#I’m at this weird spot where all three of those games can be played after aa3/unwound future and I’ve heard great things about all of them

[evilmenenjoyer]

Gratitude

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!Reader

SEQUEL to City of Love. Probably not a good fic to read as a stand-alone; read City of Love first for context.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), dubious consent, rough sex after a fight, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, bruising, marking, pain play/sadomasochism, mirror sex, manhandling, hurt/comfort (but mostly hurt), lots of angst.

Tags: @apookalypse @thecutiepieishere / I do not have an official taglist yet, but I'd be willing to make one if people were interested. If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, or in any additions to this story, let me know somehow!

–––

It's three days later when you see him again, just when you were convinced he left Paris for good.

You knew it would take a lot longer for the reminders of him to leave your mind as well as your body. He's in the marks his hands left on your hips, in the scrapes and faint bruises along your back from when he tossed and squeezed you against the brick wall, in the ghost of his lips on your skin. You can still feel them every time you close your eyes, hear his voice whisper your name against your neck as he came.

It shouldn't surprise you, after everything, to have him knock on your door right as you’re getting ready to have a night out. It still nearly takes your breath away to see him, looking as impeccable as usual in his dark gray suit, smiling as if his mere presence doesn't rock your world upside down a third time.

“What part of ‘don’t ever contact me again’ did you not understand?” you ask, though right away you can tell you don't sound nearly as firm and assertive as you’d like. You wonder if he can tell you hoped, against every rational thought in your brain, that he would come back.

Judging by his smile, you’d bet he can.

“I couldn't help myself,” he responds, raising his hands slightly in mock surrender. “Can I come in?”

That part of you that still clings to rationality, that can tell a good idea apart from a horrible one, lights up like a loud siren in your brain. There's nothing good that could possibly come out of this. Hasn't he toyed with you enough already? With his weird twisted games, tracking you down all the way to a foreign country, sending you off to those horrific games?

Still, you find yourself stepping aside, leaving a gap for him to come through. You’ve never been good at controlling your impulses, after all.

The apartment you’ve been renting for the time being stands in the heart of Paris. It looks exactly what you pictured a typical, glamorous Parisian apartment to look like – high walls, hardwood floors, large arched windows with a stunning view of the city and the Eiffel Tower. It's furnished with all the essentials, and nothing more. You didn't see the need to bring in new furniture or decorations when you didn't even know for how long you’d be staying in the city. At this point, you’re already considering moving on to somewhere else.

“Make yourself at home,” you say. “But I’m going out soon.”

“I see that.” His eyes run over you as he sits at the arm of the couch, shamelessly lingering on the black dress that hugs all your curves at the right spots. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

You turn your back to him, looking for the earrings you had put down somewhere when you heard the knock on the door. You feel his body heat approach you from behind, his fingertips brushing against a red spot on your shoulder blade that the spaghetti straps of the dress fail to cover.

“Did I do this to you?”

His voice doesn't sound remorseful or apologetic at all. If only, there's a hint of pride to his tone, a small smile at the corner of his lip that you can tell is there without even looking at him. It should upset you, thinking of how roughly he pushed you against that wall, but it has goosebumps blooming all over your skin around the spot he touches.

“Who else would it be?” Your voice shakes ever so slightly against your will, and you clear your throat to get rid of it.

You expect him to pull back, but instead he inches even closer. He has to lean down to mold his chest to your back, his lips brushing the delicate skin of your neck when he speaks. “I can make it up to you.”

“Oh, really?” You turn your head just enough to chase after his lips. Screw the night out. He lets you capture them, indulging you in only a quick kiss before pulling away.

“I’m serious. I have something for you.”

“Oh.” You frown at the loss of contact, turning to face him. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes.”

Your frown deepens, and he raises his eyebrows at you. “Don't you trust me yet?” he asks.

No. Absolutely not. Still, what's the worst that can happen? What would he do while you have your eyes closed that he can't do right now; that he couldn't have done three nights ago at that bar, when you gave yourself to him so willingly?

You close your eyes, with a small sigh as if letting him know it's a nuisance. There's no real heat to it, and you both know it.

The Salesman’s hands find their way to your arms, guiding you further into the apartment. You follow his lead slowly, careful not to bump into any furniture or clutter you left around the place while picking an outfit and getting ready.

“You didn't have to give me a gift,” you say, still confused about what this is about. He stops walking the two of you, leaving you in an unknown part of the apartment. Your heart beats slightly faster than normal; distrustful, but excited. No man has ever bought you a gift before. Gifts are for girlfriends, for women they're trying to impress. Somehow, in all your years on this Earth, you’d missed out on being that woman to anyone.

“I was feeling romantic,” he explains. You feel something cold land over the exposed skin of your neck and chest, and he fiddles with a clasp at the nape of your neck. “Blame it on Paris. You can open your eyes.”

You do so, finding yourself standing in your bedroom, right in front of the large mirror resting against the wall. The necklace stands out against your skin – thin white gold chain and gemstones shining so bright you can immediately tell they're real, a ruby and a sapphire encrusted by tiny crystals. The color choice is an odd one for a necklace, prompting you to take a closer look. That's when any hints of a smile vanish from your face.

The gemstones are placed beside each other, the shapes and markings in them identical to those of the ddakji tiles you and the Salesman had played together in the subway station.

“I had it custom-made for you,” he says. Standing behind you, his reflection on the mirror takes up almost the entire background, but you don't pay him any mind. Your eyes are all but glued to the red and deep blue stones hanging from your neck, hoping against hope that you had seen it all wrong, that this was just a figment of your imagination and the real necklace will reveal itself if you just look hard enough.

It never does.

Reality hits you then. This isn’t some fun new fling, or the beginning of a Paris romance. This is the man who lured you into a horribly traumatic experience when you were at your most vulnerable, who came all the way from Seoul just to rub in your face that you didn't deserve to make it out of there alive. And now here he is. Prying his way into your apartment, your body, your mind. And you just let him.

Horror floods you, nearly pushing you to your knees right here. You touch the pendant with shaky fingers, and it takes everything in you not to grab the chain and yank it off your neck. Finally, your eyes meet the Salesman’s in the mirror.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He blinks innocently. “You don't like it?”

“Why would you do this?” you ask, unsure of whether you want to burst into tears or slap him in the face.

His fingers join yours where they rest on the necklace, only grazing your skin on their way to touching the pendant. “I thought you'd like a reminder.”

That makes you spring into action, pulling away from him and pushing his hand away with a ferocity you didn't know you still had, not since the Squid Games.

“A reminder? What makes you think I want to remember that shit?” You raise your voice; something to make up for how small you feel, by the way you need to tilt your head to look him in the eye. “If I could erase that night from my memory for the rest of my life, I would.”

“I find that hard to believe. Would you erase our night together at the bar as well?” His eyes leave yours only to look back to the mirror behind you. “Look at you. Wearing those bruises so proudly.”

For a moment all you can do is stare at him, unable to believe the sheer audacity he has to stand in your house and say these things. The worst of it all is you can’t fully deny it – you picked the dress deliberately knowing it left the upper part of your back exposed, happy to catch glimpses of the bruises he left you with if you happened to stumble upon a mirror or reflective surface throughout the night.

“I would,” you insist. “What the fuck makes you think I’d want to remember the night that ruined my life?”

A laugh comes out of him; a short, but cruel sound. “I ruined your life, is that what you're saying?”

You scoff. “Don't act like you don't know you did.”

He steps even closer to you. You refuse to step back, even when it feels like his chest is about to bump into your forehead. “Your life,” he says, “was already shit way before I came around. Debt, an awful job, an even worse home, no future prospects, no friends. What exactly was there about your life that was good enough to be ruined?”

Rage consumes you to hear him talk like that about your old life. Things were bad, yes, but there was a positivity about you that's been lost ever since you stepped foot in those games. You could barely make ends meet, and your shifts were long and exhausting, but you had hopes of going to school, of turning your life around. Your home was a tiny, shitty house in an even shittier neighborhood, but you still took the effort to decorate it and try to make it feel more like a home. Where did that go? Now, you have all the money you could ever wish for, and all you do is spend it on clothes and expensive trips you don't even have the motivation to enjoy, your only goal being getting far away from Seoul.

“At least I felt like a fucking person! Do you even know what that’s like? Feeling human?” you all but yell, grateful for the language barrier in case any neighbors happen to be listening. “I’d never killed anyone. I’d never wanted to kill anyone! I didn't have nightmares, and I didn't wake up every day wondering if I deserve to be alive after everything I did to survive!”

“You had nothing,” he reminds you, his voice cold as the winter outside. “Not even your dignity. Or did you forget how we met? How you asked me to play ddakji with you, willing to get hit in the face repeatedly not for money, but just to have my attention?”

You hold back a sob, shaking your head furiously, but it's of no use. The words sting hard enough to bring tears to your eyes; it stings even more to know they're true. 

“Get out of my apartment,” you demand. You wish you'd never let him in. You wish you'd never met him at all.

“Things are different now,” he says, ignoring your order completely. “You’re rich, and you’ve matured. You’ll never struggle again in your life, if you're smart.”

“I said GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Finally at your breaking point, you push him, shoving at his chest as hard as you have the strength to. He barely budges. It's only then that you notice how cornered he’s got you, your back about to bump into the mirror.

He brings his hand towards your face, cupping your chin and forcing you to look higher up at him. You thrash and claw at his wrist, trying to push it away from you, but he only tightens his grip until it's almost painful. There’s a darkness in his eyes that’s unlike any expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“I made you stronger. You're a millionaire now because of me,” he says. “How about a little gratitude?”

Even from your position, you still manage an incredulous scoff at him. “Gratitude?”

“Yes.” A grin stretches the corner of his lips, not a trace of warmth of friendliness behind it. “You should be thankful I pulled you out of your misery.”

He moves faster than you’re ready to, grabbing you by the waist and tossing you down. You brace yourself for the impact of your head hitting the floor, gasping in surprise when your back bounces over the soft mattress instead. He hovers above you, using his heavier body to pin yours down before you even have the chance to start struggling against his grip.

“Get off me!”

“Calm down.” He holds both your wrists together with one hand, while the other manages to somehow pull your panties off your body, using your kicking legs as leverage. Your eyes widen in shock. “I’m just giving you another reminder.”

“W-what?” Your voice wavers with fear. All that fury is slowly but surely being replaced with it, or with a mixture of both feelings that leaves you heaving for breath.

He doesn't have to pull your dress up – your own struggle does it by itself, leaving the fabric rumpled up at your hips and your bottom exposed. You stop kicking him in an attempt to cover yourself, and he takes advantage of that fraction of a second to stick his knee on the spot on the mattress between your legs, stopping you from shutting them. You gasp, the heavy pressure on your core cutting off all your thoughts for a moment. You can think of nothing to do other than to yell for help.

As if reading your thoughts, his free hand covers your mouth.

You voice your displeasure through a muffled grunt. You keep on struggling, trying to kick him off you, but each movement unintentionally rubs your bare clit over his thigh that pins you down. He applies even more pressure and you cry out, mortified to feel heat pooling between your legs.

“Christ, you're wet. I can feel it.”

You can feel it too, the fabric of his pants damp and hot where it connects with you. You're torn on whether to keep fighting and essentially humping his leg or giving up, if only to have a few instants of relief.

“If you scream, I’ll slit your throat,” he warns in a hoarse whisper. “Do you understand?”

Out of options, you nod.

He releases your mouth, then your wrists. It occurs to you to scream anyway, but you force yourself to remember who you're dealing with. He wouldn’t give you empty threats. Anyone involved in bringing people into those games has no qualms about slitting your throat open and leaving you to bleed out on your silk sheets.

The Salesman makes his way down your body, now holding onto your legs with his hands.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you manage to ask, the answer rather obvious but it had all happened so fast, leaving you dazed and confused.

“Giving you yet another reason to be thankful to me.”

The sudden, damp feel of his tongue on your entrance overcomes your senses, and you wouldn't be able to hold back a shout if you tried.

Fortunately, he forgives you for it. You squirm under the sensations, but he holds your hips down against the mattress in a firm grip, immobilizing them completely and prying you open all at once. You hoist yourself up over your elbows only to be met with your own reflection on the mirror across the room, your hair a mess already and your face contorted in fear and pleasure and indignation all at once. You can’t bear to watch yourself like this, mortification entrenched into every muscle of your body that reacts to his touch as he continues to penetrate you with his tongue. You fall back towards the mattress with a broken moan.

“God– Y-you can’t–” Whatever you were about to say dies out in your throat as his lips rise to your clit, enveloping you so expertly in the wet heat of his mouth. You clench your whole body, eyelids all the way down to your toes, and for a moment you’re grateful for the hands that hold your legs open just so you don’t have to face the shame of spreading them wider.

Your hands, perfectly capable of putting up a fight once they’d been released, twist into the sheets beneath you, holding on like your life depends on it. You curse yourself for not trying harder to push him off, for not really wanting to; for always being so unwilling to say no to him. Moans leave your lips like they’re being ripped out of you, growing in volume like you just can’t help it. It makes you wish one of the pillows were within reach so you could bury it against your face and muffle them, or simply to hide yourself from how incredibly good it feels to be at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long at all. Say whatever you want about the Salesman, but this is a man who knows what he’s doing with his tongue. In only a few minutes he reduces you to whimpers and pleading, your orgasm hitting you like a wave crashing full-force over the shore. Your back arches off the bed, mouth open in a long moan, and he continues to dine on you like a starving man until the moment you fall backwards, spent.

When you come back to yourself, you’re covering your face with your hands as he presses kisses to the line of your inner thigh. You feel him make his way up your body, feel his hands on your wrists, gently moving them out of the way and exposing your face, the deep flush that has colored your cheeks.

Looking into his eyes, you’re overcome with a rush of emotions you’re not sure how to name. How can a person make you feel so many things at once? How can you still want him – ardently, desperately, profoundly want him – after everything? How can he be so addictive, leaving you already hooked from the scraps of attention he’s given you? You tilt your head just a tiny bit towards him, a silent invitation, and he leans in the rest of the way to take your lips in his.

He kisses you deeply, hungrily, holding you through the shudders that run through your body from the aftershocks of your orgasm until they subside. Kisses you like you’re more than just a hookup, tempting you to believe there must be something about you that’s special. Kisses you for long enough to get you drunk in it, like he’s happy to do nothing but this for the rest of his life.

The next time he pulls back, he removes his suit jacket and tie. You somehow manage to help him unbutton his white shirt, motivated by the promise of feeling his bare skin on yours. You nearly forget his pants are still on, letting him work on that as you press kisses to down his neck. Of course his body is as perfect as his face. He makes an approving sound that you can feel on his throat, and you follow the vibrations of his vocal chords until his pulse point, pleased to find his heartbeats as fast as yours. You can’t resist taking the skin there between your teeth.

He growls, hands tightening on your hips and flipping you on the bed so you’re facing the other side, your back to him. You hold onto the bed frame to steady yourself, body half-bent forward.

You expect him to thrust into you without warning, just as he had the last time. Before that, he brings a hand underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards, your sight landing squarely on your joined reflection on the mirror.

“Keep your eyes right there.” Now he enters you, and you watch your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion. “Watch yourself get fucked on my cock.”

The sheer filth in his voice prompts you to obey, to look. Your knuckles turn white on the bedframe and your body rocks forward with each of his thrusts; slow at first, but steadily gaining power and speed. He reaches down to rub your clit in circles, and it makes your body jerk to feel it and see it at the same time, to watch your reactions in real time. The sight of the necklace still hanging from your neck prompts you to look away, a confirmation of what’s actually happening to you that you’re not prepared to stare in the face.

His hand leaves your clit to wrap itself into your hair, yanking it back. Your body arches to follow it, your reflection on the glass confronting you once again.

“I said look,” he says into your ear. “Don’t you wanna see what a pretty mess you are for me?”

You shake your head, although his death grip on your hair makes it difficult to move. That’s precisely the issue: seeing the mess that he made you into, seeing yourself so overwhelmed and dirty and ashamed, the sounds leaving you suggesting nothing other than aching, raw need. It’s too much. It doesn’t stop you from pushing your hips back to meet his, trying to match his rhythm. 

He angles his thrusts to hit a spot inside of you that makes you see stars. “Oh God,” you croak, feeling the heaviness of tears behind your eyes and another orgasm fast approaching.

Just when you’re close, impossibly close to your release, he stops. You watch him on the mirror, panting just for a moment before he pulls out of you and releases your hair. You’re about to protest, or maybe plead for mercy, but he pushes you to lay on your back on the bed again, back inside of you before you can even think of a sentence.

“How about that thank you now?” He pounds into you, somehow even deeper from this position.  “Say it.”

“Shut up,” you say instead. The pause, brief as it was, only served to make you more desperate to come, and the last thing you need right now is to hear this. “Please just shut up.”

The necklace gleams over your chest, catching his attention. The Salesman runs a thumb over the sapphire, as if contemplating something, before he presses down on the pendant hard, digging it into your skin.

You gasp, throwing your head back. He’s moving fast enough that the bed rocks underneath you, the headboard slamming into the wall, his fingers still on the necklace like he wants to imprint it into your chest. It fucking hurts, the sharp metal edges unrelenting, digging in hard enough to leave a bruise. It makes your body sing, awakes the deeply-hidden, fucked up parts of you that crave this kind of pain.

“Every time you wake up,” the Salesman says, slightly out of breath himself, but much more composed than you, “and you look out of the window and see Paris, or anywhere that’s not the gutter in Seoul, you thank me for saving you.” He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust. “Say it.”

You don’t want to say it. Saying it makes you feel like it’s true, like you should give in and believe what he’s saying. That you are a piece of trash who got lucky, after all, and you should thank him for anything close to success that you achieve from now on. But your orgasm is so close you can feel the force of it numb your ears, your wrists; and in this moment, you would say anything, do anything, so long as he keeps you feeling this good.

“Thank you,” the words are just barely above a whisper, like you wish you could keep them to yourself as a shameful secret.

“For what?”

He gives you another hard thrust, almost painful if only the lines between pain and pleasure hadn’t been blurred a long time ago. You push your chest into an arch, the pendant digging even deeper into you until it breaks skin and the pain turns into agony.

“F-for saving me.”

“Good girl.”

You come then, thinking about the mark that the necklace will leave on you, thinking about how you’re going to feel it for days, how you’re going to remember it every time you feel it or see it. That there will be evidence on your body that he touched you this passionately. It feels like you’re floating, rising to the sky as you clench and unclench around him, as sound after humiliating sound leaves you.

You collapse back against the mattress when your orgasm finally lets you go, boneless and spent. You didn’t see or hear him come – in another situation, it might’ve upset you to miss it, if you weren’t still riding the aftershocks of that incredible high –, but he’s still against you, breathing hard into your neck. His release leaks from between your legs. He stays like that for a long time, slowly softening inside of you, before he finally pulls out and away from you.

You stay right where you are, unmoving. Somewhere far away, you think you can hear him searching for his clothes and dressing himself. You don’t want it to upset you, but it does; because of course he would come here, humiliate you, give you the best fuck of your life and then immediately leave, without so much as a word to you. Your head falls to the side, and even that small movement feels incredibly difficult, like your entire body is a limb that has fallen asleep. Your vision is blurry, far-away, until it finally focuses on the large window that overlooks the city. Tiny snowflakes flutter over the city lights and the dark night sky.

“It’s snowing.”

That pulls his attention to you. He’s got his pants and shirt on, the first few buttons undone, his once perfectly-styled hair a mess. He follows the line of your gaze to the window. “Were you looking forward to it?” he asks.

“Yeah.” It feels like forever ago since the last time you even thought about it. The Salesman was right; the city is beautiful at this time of the year.

You expect him to return to his clothes then head out the door. Instead, he reaches for the covers over the bed and wraps your naked body up in them like a baby. “Ow,” you hiss when he moves you, pain exploding on your chest where the necklace was pressed against you. A few drops of blood dry on your skin from when the skin had split. You feel the Salesman lift you bridal-style, much to your surprise, but you’re still too dazed to find it in you to question it.

He sits you both on the thick windowsill, him behind you and you leaning against his chest, framed by his legs. It’s gentle, somehow more intimate than you’ve ever been with him even after sleeping with him twice. You watch the snowfall outside, mesmerized, letting the steady rise-and-fall of his chest behind you soothe your aching muscles.

It’s the closest to safe you’ve felt in what feels like forever, and you’re crying before you even realize it.

Once it starts, it’s impossible to stop it. Your body trembles with the force of your sobs, tears flowing from your eyes like they haven’t since you were a little kid, at least not this openly. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you flush against himself and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, keeping his lips right there against your scalp. He rocks you ever so slightly, shushing your cries, the sound as soothing as a soft lullaby. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you sob. You think about the snow in Seoul, about how the first snowfall always made you excited, even when it happened every year. You can feel your tears rolling down your cheeks and into your neck, your collarbones. “I want to go home.”

“Then go home,” he says, like it’s simple.

“I can’t.” How can you walk the same streets you always did, as if your life wasn’t completely changed? As if the price you paid for this change wasn’t much, much greater than you could deal with? “You’re right. I have nothing. No one.”

“You had nothing. You can have anything you want now.” You want to tell him there are things money can’t buy, but you’re so tired, so exhausted. You can’t muster the willpower for much other than wallowing in your own misery, weeping in his arms like a child. “And you have me.”

That only makes you cry harder, shaking your head. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Look at me.” He nudges you to turn to him, the angle awkward but it’s so worth it the second he cups your face in both hands, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “I mean it. Come back to Seoul.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your heavy eyelids. “You just need to see things from a different perspective. I can help you.”

He coaxes you to lay back against him, and you do so without protest, burying your face into his chest. For a moment you actually consider it. Dropping the plans you had for a next trip and following him to Seoul, letting him finish corrupting you with whatever twisted worldview he has. Maybe it would be blissful, you think, to see all that violence and bloodshed as a blessing, as something that saved you rather than ruined you. It has to be a trap, or another one of his games. But it doesn’t hurt to dream about it, just a little bit.

Little by little your crying subsides, your breaths returning to normal. He holds you through it all, stroking your hair in a way that’s so tender, so soft, like you’re fragile. Like he cares about you, or even loves you.

You silently wonder if he can love anyone at all, much less someone as broken as you.

With his fingers drawing circles on your scalp, you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

–––

You wake up alone. You’re still naked but on the bed, tucked into your blankets. There’s no confusion over what happened last night, no delusions that your brain would come up with a dream like that. There’s only memories hitting you like a truck, one after the other, and it’s too fucking early for this.

You pull yourself into a sitting position, and you jump at the sight of yourself on the mirror. You barely notice the smudged makeup from last night, your eyes going straight to the star of the show: the angry red spot right on the center of your chest, already turning into a deep purple at the center. You flinch before you even touch it, your hand hanging in the air halfway through like you’ve changed your mind. The necklace finishes it off like the cherry on top of the cake, the pair of precious stones right next to each other like eyes watching you, mocking you.

You button your coat all the way up before you leave the house.

It’s still early enough that the sun has just begun rising, coloring the sky in a bright blue that bleeds into the buildings and streets. There’s probably nothing open right now, but you could really use some coffee. Or a drink. Probably a drink.

You find him at Pont Neuf, watching the river below. There’s no one else around, the city in a rare moment of quiet and peace. He hasn’t spotted you yet, seemingly lost in thought, and it occurs to you that you could sneak up behind him, push him over the edge and just keep on walking. Sever your ties to him forever, and simply keep going like nothing ever happened, bury it along with all the other memories you try so hard to forget.

You don’t do it, but knowing you could brings you a bit of comfort. You lower your head and keep walking in the opposite direction, not sparing him another glance.

[peachhcs]

losing the championships

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will's self-doubt creeps in after losing the finals making him snap at the one person who's always there for him, almost making her turn her back on him.

2.6k words

warnings: a bit of angst, arguing, crying, this is a sad post in general

ik im feeding y’all rn but i feel weird putting this out in two days and not now haha, but guys you know i had to do it. i had to get the angst out. i think this is like the first angsty post in the series?? i hate when there is angst, but i love writing it lmao. i'm not sure how accurate some of this is, but i hope the trio stays on for another season!! i'd actually be devestated if they don't. anyways keep requesting!! <3

au masterlist

it didn’t feel real. nothing felt real watching her best friends crumple to the ice in utter defeat and heartbreak just two days after winning the semifinals. samy stood up in the stands nearly motionless while everything around her fell silent. she didn’t think those moments were actually real whenever they played in movies, but here she was hardly focusing on anything but her best friends in tears. 

her eyes couldn’t leave ryan on his knees with his face in the ice. she just wanted to wrap all of them into her arms so none of them would feel this type of pain anymore. 

the stupid jumbotron panned to everyone’s reactions, basically putting the boys on full blast when they most definitely didn’t want anyone to see them crying like they were. samy’s heart only broke further when she finally looked down at her boyfriend trying to hold himself together while comforting a sobbing ryan and teary gabe. 

her own eyes grew teary seeing those three so destroyed not knowing what was next for any of them. that was probably the scariest part. 

when will searched for samy’s gaze the waterworks broke like a dam for the couple. the youngest hughes was completely crying and will’s shame settled into his skin that he lost the game without even scoring a single point. 

their coach urged the boys down the tunnel before the cameras could get any more shots of them. samy tried pulling herself together, but her hiccuping cries didn’t stop slipping out no matter how hard she tried holding them in. 

boston’s side of the lobby was nearly silent which almost mirrored michigan’s team two days ago. suddenly, seeing those happy memories wasn’t as easy anymore. samy’s mind raced wondering if this game really was the last for her favorite trio or if they’d stay on one more season with boston. 

thirty minutes passed before the bc boys slowly trickled out of the locker room. their bloodshot eyes and tear stained faces were enough to send more tears into samy’s own eyes. her lip quivered waiting for her boyfriend to appear, but he didn’t come out after his usual spot behind ryan and gabe. the two boys found samy’s gaze, frowning even deeper. 

“hey, i’m so sorry. i-i have no words,” samy brought them into big hugs hoping to ease a bit of their ache. 

“what a fucking night,” ryan muttered bitterly. 

“you guys played well. those refs were idiots making calls,” the brunette shook her head. 

“will’s still in there. he’s..he’s not taking this one too well. you can go in if you want, but he may explode. I i don’t want you to think he’s mad at you, he’ll just find something to take his anger out on,” gabe explained briefly. samy’s eyes slid towards the locker room doorway where her boyfriend hid. 

“don’t worry, i know how he gets. I’ll see if i can talk to him,” she couldn’t be scared of will. 

he was her best friend and boyfriend. he’d never intentionally hurt her and if he said things, she knew he was just angry with himself, not her. the girl shuffled her way towards the locker room trying to put on a brave face for will’s sake. 

she knocked on the door before slowly pushing it open. her eyes scanned the practically empty room until she found her boyfriend slumped in his stall at the end of the benches. her hands trembled as she slid further in and leaned against the door. 

“will?” 

his eyes snapped towards hers. he looked like a mess and that only unleashed more waterworks seeing him in this state. it wasn’t one samy saw him a lot in, so when she did, it hurt extra hard. 

“if you’re here to try and make me feel better, i don’t wanna hear it,” the boy mumbled bitterly which quickly caught samy off guard. 

she wasn’t expecting that from him so immediately. 

“i’m not. just here to be with you,” the girl said, trying to hide the shake in her voice. 

“well, i’m not really in the mood to be around anyone right now. just go. i’ll be out in a few minutes,” the bitterness in his voice definitely stung, but samy tried shaking him off knowing he was just upset. 

“will..” she inched forward, wanting to reach out to him. he looked as if anyone touched him he’d just break into a million pieces. 

“i said go. i don’t need your fucking sympathy. i feel feel like shit,” the blonde snapped this time making samy instantly draw back. 

“i know you’re upset, i get it. this loss fucking sucks. i’m just trying—” 

“you don’t fucking get it, samy! i just lost the championship game 2-0. we scored zero points. you know how fucking embarrassing that is? i’ve been trying to prove myself all season about how good i can be and then i lose the championship game. you’ll never fucking get it!” there it was. 

will’s tone rose with anger and hurt all mixed into one. samy swallowed the nerves climbing higher in her stomach as she tried remembering none of this was really directed at her. she was just the person will was getting his anger out on. 

“i-i do get it, will. remember my championship game in december? we choked. i-i get it, i do. it sucks and i’m so sorry it ended this way. i wish it didn’t—”

“stop saying you get it. it’s not the fucking same. you’ve never had to work for anything in your life because of your family!” 

the blonde’s harsh words finally hit a nerve. samy’s face twisted and she didn’t know anymore if he really didn’t mean it or not, but through the anger, will realized what he said. 

“samy..i didn’t—”

“fuck you, will. you of all people should know how hard i’ve worked to be where i am right now. i know you’re upset about everything right now, but you don’t need to bring me down to make yourself feel better. don’t bother waiting up. i’m leaving with ryan and gabe,” samy stormed out of the locker room before will could say anything more.

the tears streamed down her face as soon as she was in the lobby again. ryan and gabe instantly noticed her distraught expression, immediately going to her. 

“shit, what happened?” ryan muttered. 

“can we just go? i can’t deal with him right now,” samy choked out. the two exchanged a worried glance, but obliged. 

the whole ride back to the hotel was nothing but silence as everyone reeled from the disappointing night. 

—

gabe let samy camp out in his hotel room for the night. he didn’t dare ask her what happened in the locker room knowing she’d tell him if she wanted to; however, the dark-haired boy wanted to go knock some sense into will knowing he most definitely snapped too hard at samy which made her want to avoid him. 

it was almost two in the morning when there was a small knock. still awake, the two exchanged wary glances, so gabe got the door. 

he pulled it open to reveal a very weary, teary-eyed, sad, and frustrated will. for a moment, gabe almost let him in, but he stopped himself because he didn’t want the boy blowing up at samy again. the girl sat nervously on the bed just out of sight of the door listening in on them.

“is she here?” will rasped out, voice dry from the amount he cried after samy left the locker room and getting back to the hotel. 

“i’m not sure i wanna answer that,” gabe stood his ground. 

“come on, perreault. leno said he didn’t have her,” will tried again. 

hearing how wrecked he sounded broke samy’s heart all over again. gabe gazed back at her, a look in his eyes asking her if she really wanted to see him. 

even though he insulted her, something in samy was still trying to justify it for him being upset and angry. she really wanted to believe he didn’t mean it. with that, the girl crawled off the bed and shuffled her way behind gabe’s 6’1 figure. 

“we can talk in your room,” samy mumbled. 

“o-okay,” the shake in her boyfriend’s voice made samy want to lunge herself at him and make all the pain go away, but she had to stand up for herself still. 

“you’re sure?” gabe wondered before letting her go. 

“i’m sure. i’ll see you tomorrow,” she rubbed his arm and stepped around him. 

her and will walked three doors down where his hotel room was. it was basically hers too since most of her stuff was scattered across the room over the past few days they’ve been there. 

will shut the door behind them. the brunette looked at him expectantly knowing she said everything she could. a beat of silence passed before the tears quickly filled the blonde’s eyes and he started completely sobbing in front of her. he crumpled against the door, choking sobs falling from his lips as he body sunk into the ground. 

for a second, samy just stared at him until her instincts kicked in and she went to him without hesitation this time. 

“oh will,” she curled into his side, stroking his hair as his body fell into hers. 

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean any of it. i don’t know why i said it. i was upset and i know that’s not an excuse at all,” the boy rambled into her shoulder. 

“i know this loss hurts, but taking your anger out on people with harsh words isn’t gonna make it better,” samy said.

“i know, i know. i-i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have lashed out on you. that’s not fair to you at all.” 

“i was just trying to comfort you like i always do after losses,” the girl hated seeing her boyfriend so upset like this. his tears dripped everywhere on her even after samy tried wiping them away with her thumb. 

“i know. i shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. i just.. I didn’t want you to see me like that,” will’s voice grew softer at his small admission. 

“what do you mean like that?” i’ve seen you lose games before.”

“i don’t know if this is how you felt after your soccer game, but i felt so pathetic for losing a championship game where we didn’t even score. my pride was hurt and i worried you’d think i wasn’t good enough anymore because i lost like that,” his words continued breaking samy’s heart. 

she grabbed ahold of his face so he was looking at her, “i’d never think any less of you because you lost. it happens. you’re not pathetic for losing and i promise it doesn’t make me look at you any differently.” 

“i guess i’m just always scared you’ll get sick of me and realize i’m not actually worth it. that and a hundred other emotions were just going through me and it came out really wrong,” will frowned. 

a small sigh escaped the girl’s lips hearing the boy she’s known all her life doubt himself so much. “you’re always worth it, will. nothing’s ever gonna change that for me, okay? i’m always gonna be in love with you and wanna be around you win or lose, whatever's happening in your career. you’re stuck with me,” a small laugh escaped their lips at the last part. 

“i know that. i just get really doubtful when i get down on myself and hard losses like that happen.” 

“i get it, but i’m not going anywhere, okay? you played your best tonight, those refs were making shit calls and unfortunately, denver just figured us out.” 

a small nod came from will. he pushed his forehead onto samy’s just trying to ease all the thoughts running through his mind while focusing on the way she ran her fingers gently through his hair and around his curls. some of his roots were rough and red from the way he pulled harshly on them earlier, so her gentle motions slowly eased the ache. 

“i’m scared that i don’t know what’s gonna happen next with any of us,” will spoke again after a small silence. 

he lifted his head again to meet his girlfriend’s gaze before leaning it against the door. 

“are you gonna sign on?” the idea played in samy’s mind as well after tonight’s game. 

the decision was entirely up to the coaches of each of the guy’s respective teams, but considering how well all of them played and improved in one season, they may want them sooner rather than later. 

“i don’t know. it’s up to whether the sharks want me now or later,” will answered. 

“have you talked to ryan or gabe? what they may do?” 

“washington’s pushing closer to the playoffs. they may want ryan on for it. i dunno. gabe’s most likely gonna stay. i don’t think the rangers are quite ready for him yet. the ideal situation is we all stay one one more season with boston,” will explained a bit, his fingers drawing mindles shapes into samy’s leg. 

“what do the sharks say about you?” the girl wondered with a raised eyebrow. 

“you know what they say about me. they want me now. they wanna wait another year. it’s..sort of up to me i guess,” will shrugged a bit, avoiding eye contact. 

“would you sign on now?” she rephrased her question from earlier. 

“if i sign on now, my entire life gets flipped around in a week and i have to move to california, but then i’d possibly get to play in the playoffs. if i wait, i get to stay with boston and everyone for another year and more importantly, see you more frequently than if i was in california,” samy rolled her eyes at the last part—he was always so down bad for her. 

“don’t make the decision based on me, will. you’ll see me still.” 

“i know, but i think i do subconsciously anyway. you’re just my life now,” his words sent a deep blush across the girl’s cheeks. 

“i’m flattered,” she rubbed the side of his cheek making him lean into her touch. 

“you’re everything to me, samy. i’m really, really in love with you and i can’t imagine my life without you in it,” will smiled softly. 

the girl flushed, but returned his smile. hearing those kinds of things come out of his mouth was still something the brunette was getting used to even after 9 months of being together. 

“you’re everything to me too, will. i love you a lot.” 

the boy leaned forward to place a gentle, yet loving kiss on her lips. they melted into one another, small sighs escaping their mouths at the contact. her hands tugged at his curls while his own curved around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer like he needed her as close as possible or else he couldn’t function. 

part of it was true. without samy, will was lost like a fish in the ocean. she was a part of him and he was a part of her. they were intertwined and always would be. her soft lips soothed every single thought and self-doubt will had because as long as his favorite girl believed in him, that was all that mattered. 

“i know i said this already, but thank you for being here. it means a lot to me,” will said when they pulled apart. 

“i’d never miss this. i’ll always skip classes for you,” she grinned. 

the boy beamed, pulling her back in for another kiss. 

the two didn’t get into bed until nearly 3:30 in the morning. samy curled into will’s side, his arm tightly around her as she laid on his chest. the tension in the air completely dissipated and the cries died down. things felt okay again. 

they’d sleep tangled in one another all night knowing the next morning samy had to catch her plane back to michigan and will would be left with one big decision that would decide what plane he had to catch. 

[pumpkinsouppe]

Actually right now is the perfect time to finish T&T since I’m sick in bed nfdjlsfnds

I plan to play unwound future after T&T, that’s not budging, but what do y’all recommend I play next: AAI 1 & 2, PLvsPW, or AA4?

I need to play aa4-6 on my 3ds before the hd version comes out so I can directly compared how bad the 5-6 models and animation are jgfkelgln

[ofmermaidstories]

you saying you’d write an au for stardew is the equivalent of getting a rabbits foot and multiple prismatic shards in one day omg. even if u don’t do it the idea popping in ur head is already fantastic! i’m so happy you love the game i think it’s the perfect distraction for life !!! if only we could all just pack our things and move to our inherited farms and become the richest in town… it’s nepotism at work lol

please tae, i literally daydream about someone giving me a deed to a farm or a plot of land somewhere. 😭 and the thing is!!! like!!! farming’s not an easy job, it’s so dependant on the earth/weather, and even before climate change was a tangible threat it was a hard, hard living. 🥺 i get stressed out with my video game, lmao, 10pm and im still out in the fields hoeing or planting seeds, like. 💀 imagining doing that for like, 40+ plus to make a living……. you’d have to have a good team around you. 😩 farmhands, or family. a good spouse LOL. even a little hobby farm would be stressful………. and yet i still want that life. 😔 an orchard by the sea. 🥹 still stressful, but maybe slightly more manageable lmao.

i am trying so, so hard not to give into the temptation (not yet) to fulfil this wish via a fic LMAO. 🥹🙏🏽 i’m trying to feed it by doing like, small things: naming it (from the valley), making a playlist for it. god, i’ve gotten to the stage where i actively pause the game to write down little notes (things in our backpack: pink cake. a orange poppy flower. goat’s cheese. four cups of banana pudding. a totem with a weathered, deeply carved face. the pock-marked head of a mushroom). i am fighting for my life!!! the only thing that’s actually, properly stopping me from the follow through is that i don’t have a romantic end-game in mind. because in my head i’ve already given Reader three potential boyfies: izuku, katsuki, and maybe shouto (maybe shinsou instead). like, i can picture how friendships/relationships would form among them (izuku the kind, helpful guy. katsuki in the background, wary. shouto the son of the man who founded the company we worked for, back in the city; our work husband, who we joked to about following us out to the valley and who does). the one thing i’d want to do is have Reader find their way to Skull Caverns, and realise that all the magic they thought was whispering to just them has been whispering to other people, too—Izuku, sword in hand, staring at us in horror when he finds us cradling a large, spotted egg. Katsuki, rounding the corner after him, swearing black and blue about ghosts—sdhjfgklsdjflsfgkjsflkgj. i wanna write it so badly, just to get to that moment, LMAO. the mutual horror when all three of you are face-to-face in this giant, deadly, underground maze. the boys making you swear to secrecy; Izuku tearing into you for being so stupid, how did you even find this place, how did you know, do you understand what could’ve happened? you should’ve told them, you should’ve told him. your relief in finally having someone to talk to about all the weird shit you keep stumbling across. the way this would give Izuku an excuse to drop in to you, on the farm. Katsuki turning up to help with the tilling or seasonal planting, the harvest. i want to write about it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! all of it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! being on the dock in the middle of winter as the snow is falling, all those festive, jewel-like boats bobbing gently before you, waiting with their… winter star trees, or their paintings. the sea salt and the charred warmth of coffee beans. the mermaid show with all it’s tawdry secrecy…… the worn carpet under your feet, the mismatched planks that hold steady despite the creaking. i just think!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it would be neat to do. 🥹 i just!! it’s such a good world to play in LMAO. and if i could come up with a ending for it—a true, stops-me-in-my-tracks kind of ending—not even my attempts at nail-digging self-discipline would stop me from writing it.

for now tho it’s just my yapping, lmao. my yapping and my threats. 🥹

[natikoko]

Agent 4 (Adrian) character sheetzzz

I’m so sorry my baby I was procrastinating doing yours for like a week I’m so sorry

Adrian. Last Name unknown. 19 years old.

- 6’1ft

- From a lanky kid to almost 250 pounds of beef and gain. Had an extreme growth spurt in his teenage years, and combined with constant agent activity, made him into the guy he is today.

- Observant and calculating. Fueled by one single-minded determination at a time, he is easily one of the most effective agents in the NSS.

- Is selfish but selfless. His selfishness can be mistaken for heartlessness, and his selflessness can be mistaken for self sabotage. Make of that what you will.

- Insecure and vulnerable during splatoon 2, where he was fourteen. Helping Marie helped him boost his confidence plenty and made him feel needed when he was lost. His relationship with Marie is strong because of it.

• he doesn’t mention his life before meeting Marie often. It’s a sore spot.

- Confident and sensible. Manages to stay calm during the most stressful of situations. Meditates in his free-time helps. He’s very reliable.

- Can be a pushover at times. He just wants to help everyone!

- Enjoys literature and music. Is studying for a degree in music theory at Inkblot art academy. Takes up many extracurriculars (but has a hard time managing his time)

- Mains rollers, specifically Carbon’s or Krak-ons. Used to use dualies plentifully, but considers himself too tall to preform the evasive maneuvers he constantly did. Prefers strenuous weapons.

• Is ranked score is very high, despite him not playing often. Is probably really rusty now.

- Gets money funneled from his parents. Has a complicated relationship with them.

- He actually didn’t meet both 3(tilly) or 8(marlon) until almost half a year after Octo Expansion occurred. He was busy with his academics and Tilly and Marlon were both recovering from the deepsea metro, so they couldn’t meet right away.

• they instantly clicked when they met. They visited each other frequently and it strengthened their relationship.

• he “amazingly brought these two bumbling idiots together because they couldn’t confess” which is a complete lie, because Adrian is horrible with romance. They wouldn’t never started a relationship if Marlon didn’t state the obvious.

• Many sleepless nights trying to understand his feelings for those two…

- Is very good at shuffling cards, for some reason. But he’s horrible at card games, so…

- Physically the strongest out of all the NSS members. Marlon is strong, but wouldn’t last long without a weapon for aid. Tilly is his strongest competitor. It’s a debate amongst the NSS.

• he and Tilly fought to settle this debate. Adrian clotheslined Tilly so hard she momentarily passed out not even three minutes into the fight and it’s obvious who won

- Doesn’t cry. It’s an unhealthy habit that he’s trying to unlearn. When he does cry, it’s messy and snotty and it’s loud and gross

- But he will NOT let his girls bottle their emotions up. He will beat those feelings out of them if he has too. If he sees any ounce of repressed trauma he’s going therapist mode

• he sees a therapist! It’s nice to just have someone to talk to, yknow?

- Is the only one in the relationship who can remotely dress well. That’s not saying much

• wears plenty of shorts and plain t-shirts. Very much is a minimalist clothes kinda guy, but that’s on par with his shitty fashion sense (me tease)

- Huge fan of Hightide Era and Ink Theory

- Animals HATE him and he does not Know Why

- Speaks very loudly. Will ask the simplest question but shout it. He’ll ask “WHATS FOR DINNER‼️‼️” without knowing he’s shouting. Cannot control the volume of him voice

- Weird eating habits. Puts Ketchup in his tuna and peanut butter on his chips but he eats a lot of good home-prepared foods so it cancels out

- Tilly called him babygirl and I don’t think he’s been the same since

- Best hugger! They’re warm and comfortable and welcoming and he always rocks you back and forth, maybe even a firm pat on the back

- A big excitable guy! Don’t be mean to him!

[basiatlu]

Thanks for tagging me @lqtraintracks and @goblinmatriarch 🤭💖✨

-Three Ships-: ok so last time I avoided hp ships so let’s make them all hp-centric! I mean Drarry as an easy shot, then there’s Wolfstar (but it always makes me really sad so only little nibbles), and finally Ginny serves as my village bicycle where I enjoy her paired with almost anyone I deem compatible as I want to see her thriving in life and experiencing fun and safe partners and finding herself etc etc I adore her. How’s that for a run-on sentence?

-First Ship-: was totally SasuSaku which was then a gateway drug to shipping the angsty boy with Naruto because early internet image searches, man.

-Last Song-: “Blue Spotted Tail” by Fleet Foxes

-Last Movie-: Gunpowder Milkshake - so good about 8/10 for me!

-Currently Reading-: reading through my paired fics for the upcoming Big Bang fest

-Last Thing I Wrote Drew-: yesterday’s drawtober prompt

-Currently Writing Drawing-: today’s drawtober prompt (totally not even procrastinating - not even a little bit)

-Are you named after anyone?-: I am! There’s the Polish jazz singer, Basia Trzetrzelewska. My mom is a big fan hehehe

-Favorite Subject in School-: History! Ancient history specifically

-Do you have kids?-: No, but I do have a circus of cats. They’re currently on a diet and have made the last month a terrible time for my sleep health lolz

-When was the last time you cried?-: so I have overactive tear ducts? So if I laugh I cry and I usually hit a breaking point everyday where I laugh hysterically at something. Today it was a sticker order a customer at work had ordered of an ms paint tracing of a Scooby-Doo ai splice gen where Scooby is eating the Mystery Gang in a giant hoagie sandwich. Yeah. Me and my co workers printed it out to pin to the wall as I cry/laugh/sobbed at my desk.

-Do you use sarcasm a lot?-: Yes but also no but also I just make fun of myself constantly and intentionally act stupid. It’s a great ploy to get others to lower their defenses around you. Not out of malicious intent, just I don’t take myself too seriously in order to save that energy for when it matters. Like when I have to intensely support my friends and partner with very serious-mode love and affection. … this doesn’t make any sense.

-What sports do you play/have played?-: soccer, softball, and swim <— I hate competitive sports and never stuck with them long than a year or I just was a filthy casual doing summer seasons/clubs. I’m more of a hiker and leisure gal.

-What’s the first thing you notice about people?-: the way they hold their shoulders and hands, secondary is their eyebrows and nose. It’s all demeanor and posture for me.

-Any special talents?-: gosh um I can cook really well. Honestly I don’t like eating out and neither does my partner because we turn to each other after and go “Eh it was ok but…” and wish I had done it at home instead. I can fold and make odd shapes with my tongue, can crinkle my fingers in odd ways (double jointed, but they lock badly so no thank you), and I can do some fucking weird voices/imitations but I chicken out in front of others beyond like 3 people, unfortunately for those 3

-Where we’re you born?-: Canada

-What are your hobbies?-: video games, tarot card readings, cooking, drawingdrawingdrawing, and reading

-How tall are you?-: I hover somewhere between 5’6” and 5’7”

-Dream Job-: comic artist / self-employed artist with occasional contract work for publishing/movies. I think if I could completely support myself and have a savings with a Patreon or the like that would make me so accomplished and at ease.

Ok enough of that!! I tag people now, yeah? @mono-chromia @hihimissamericanbi @littlewinnow

[amortentiaz]

CHISHIYA x READER

he found her useful since the beginning.

warnings: fem! reader

gif by: cyberpunks

the cellphone ranged in your sweaty hands, your heart racing in your chest.

five of spades

“huh, easy.” you thought after listening the rules and seeing the category and difficulty of the game you were about to enter. you’re not exactly the athletic type but you can handle it if necessary. and that was the case, for sure. you look around to see the others and before you could properly analyze them, the game started.

after checking the first and second floor of the building looking for the unlocked room, you decided to follow the weird and giant guy with a horse mask that was designed to kill everyone there. you walked with smooth steps so he couldn’t notice someone was after him. for your lucky, it worked and you were able to see the killer shooting one of the doors from a high distance. “it’s there” you said out loud when you realized where the safe spot is, giving him the chance to notice your presence. “shit”. you start running as fast as you could, trying to avoid the bullets that want to go through your head.

you saw three guys hiding behind the staircase waiting for something, all of them armed with fire extinguishers. as soon as you get closer, the one with military pants yelled.

“is he coming?” he look at you with rough eyes.

“oh yeah, better start running too” you answered without stopping. he gave you a smirk before concentrate in his position. it was too fast, they managed to hit oni in the head and one of the dudes was already dead. you needed to reach the unlocked door so everything will stop, but you couldn’t let those people fight alone. not when you have a gun in your waist excited to be put in action.

three shoots, two on the legs and one on the chest.

you didn’t look back again and kept running to your goal. but someone was already there, standing in front of the door with a calm look in his face. you stopped and waited a few seconds.

“won’t you open it?” you said with anxiety in your voice. the clock was running. the nice-looking blonde boy looked at you up and down before reply.

“should i?” he raised his eyebrows. you laughed. he must be joking, right?

“well, if you’re gonna play pussy, get your ass out of my way” you spoke while entered the dark and cold room with him on your tail. he gave you a smirk before both feeling something was off there. he almost immediately shouted.

“DOWN” his arms dropped you on the floor as a secong tagger was waiting there, almost killing you two. you moved fast to catch your gun as the other guy catches his taser. you shot him on the arm as the taser hit his leg. you raised off the floor and two more people joined the fight, a cute tall guy with the hiker girl you already knew from another game.

10 seconds left.

you and the blonde one looked at each other. without a single world, you both jumped to reach the buttons and finally stop the timer with one second to spare.

“holy shit” you utter, bending on your knees. a hand offered you help to lift up what you gladly accepted. “oh, thanks. i’m y/n, by the way.”

“i’m chishiya. nice job tho” he introduced himself as well, giving you a crooked smile. “he’s so fucking gorgeous” you thought as you can properly see his face right in front of you. the strong men with military pants was suddenly back and his eyes shone as he contemplated that scene. blood spilled all over the room after oni’s head exploded with no mercy after the game cleared.

“nice to see you took the first step, chishiya. i want to bring her with us to the beach.”

what you didn’t know is that chishiya was thinking exactly the same thing after seeing your progress through the game since the beginning.

[glilboy]

ATEEZ Reactions to finding you reading smut about them: Maknae Line

i tried so hard to finish this afterworo and before bed lol. the first part did, so well? im genuinely shocked ill be honest. hope this one is just as good.

requests are open btw!!

tws below the cut

Warning! This work of fiction contains mentions of quirofilia, strength kink, dom/sub dynamics implications and general explicit topics

San:

"Baby just let me play it I just want to get us to the same level," San whined at you about a game you both played. He practically coaxed you into playing but now you genuinely enjoyed it, being hesitent to let him get you farther.

"I want to experience it myself though Sannie," you pouted back at him leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I just want to do the things you've been avoiding! It'll give you enough experience to be the same level, please," his voice became higher pitched which was your call to just let him do it.

"Whatever," you said in a fake angry voice, instantly giggling, "you do that, I'm gonna go grab a snack." You hopped up and off the bed, leaving your phone for him to mess with.

Picking up your phone, happy he got his way, he went to open the app but one was already open.

Humming he read a bit and when he read his name he twitched a little. So this was what you liked. San made you extremely nervous which caused you to be a bit hesitant to share what you liked in bed. You planned to tell him one day but he hurried that process up.

Hearing you coming back he quickly opened the right app even though he now had no actual intention to progress you.

"I am back!" you smiled plopping down with some cut fruit.

"No shit," he mused causing you to roll your eyes with a smile. His brain itching to do something now, an idea popped in seeing you eat the fruit.

Taking a piece of strawberry he held it up to your lips, you unknowingly smiled and took the fruit into your mouth. His breathing accelerated. Waiting a few minutes before he took another piece, he at first popped a piece into his mouth then grabbing another to hold it up again. You took the piece but a muffled sound of surprise came out with it when san shoved his fingers inside a bit.

Looking at him wide eyed and confused you met his which looked at you intensely. You didn't even have a chance to stop yourself before you started to suck his fingers.

"Fuck," he mumbled his gaze going a bit hazy at seeing you like this.

After sucking on his fingers for a moment you let go with a pop.

"You should really let me read more of those stories Y/N," him saying that is what made it all hit.

"Wait- oh shit," you mumbled before he took your jaw in one of his hands squishing your mouth open. The other holding another piece and pressing it to your tongue.

"I would've known sooner just how pretty you think my hands are dear."

Mingi:

Mingi could feel his face turn red, not suspecting is seemingly soft tasted girlfriend to read stuff like this. He was just trying to help! You were busy cooking dinner and asked him to send a text back to your friend, forgetting what you were last doing.

He gulped and set down your phone once sending the message. He wanted to talk about it but he had no clue how to bring it up. Once seated eating dinner you could feel the energy was off since earlier he was in such a great mood. You chose to ask about it after the meal not wanting to have an awkward dinner.

Washing the dishes you didn't feel Mingi approach from behind until he wrapped his hands around your waist.

"Hm? What's up baby?" You hummed softly with a smile.

"Can you do the dishes later...I need to talk to you about something," He set his chin on your shoulder and you could just hear a slight pout in his voice.

Drying off your hands you turned around to look at him, "what's up Mingi?"

He leaned up and took a deep breathe making you a bit worried.

"I- um fuck- Y/N I saw whats on your phone," he hesitated before just ripping off the bandaid.

Your face instantly dropped mumbling a small "ah fuck"

You stayed silent with his hands sitting on your waist. You looked at him before speaking, "Gi, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about how you feel about seeing it? I'm sure you're pissed."

He tilted his head questioningly at the end, "What no- I mean, like yeah it could be weird but you're reading about me so I don't see an issue, at least as of now."

You we're now pretty puzzled, a bit tongue tied. If you remembered right, the work you had been reading was well pretty aggressive so you were sure Mingi would be weirded out. He was a soft guy and you guys experimented occasionally but nothing that far.

Being able to tell you got in your head he spoke again, "I liked it. I...liked it Y/N."

Looking back at him, his hands tightened on your waist and he moved closer so your lips brushed each others.

"Please- Fuck, can we try it?"

wooyoung:

"Y/N! Can I use your phone for a second?" Wooyoung whined laying on the bed while you we're folding laundry. He wanted attention but you had chores to do.

"Why?" You looked at him weird, knowing he was up to something.

"You'll see," he smiled, just wanting to take selfies on your phone but opened it to a book of sorts.

Curiosity got the best of him as he skimmed the page, a faint blush creeping up his neck. You guys had done a lot but something in him was set off, a smile creeping up his lips.

"Pervert," He spoke deadpanned up at you making you frown before it clicked.

"Wooyoung."

"Y/N."

A moment passed before suddenly he popped up, grabbing your hair and forcing your face into the bed. A giggle sounded from behind you as he leaned down to talk into your ear, "You read stuff like that? You're that horny for just me that you read that kind of shit? Lord your fucking head over heels for me."

"Shut the fuck up-" Your voice got cut off as he lifted you up by your hair, a hand wrapping around your throat making your mind flutter.

"Say that one more time and I'll fuck your face until you pass out like that little book dear."

Jongho:

It was supposed to be a night filled with movies, snacks, giggles and cuddles but your bladder decided to change the trajectory of the night. Excusing yourself to the bathroom you left your phone on the table faced up, not remembering that you left your tumblr notifications on around someone. The phone pinged three times in a row, making Jongho curious to which he glanced over at it.

'c. j 10:15

strength kink'

"What," he said outloud.

Clicking on the notification he began to read the work, blushing at it and embarrassed that he..liked it. Licking his lips he looked around a bit flustered.

When he heard the bathroom door shut he quickly set your phone back down, trying to not awkwardly sit there. You came back like nothing was wrong, cuddling into his side continuing to watch the film.

This is where a few days passed, each day driving Jongho more and more up the wall. Hiding in the bathroom at the studio just to get off without the chance of being caught, at least by you. Scenarios spinning in his head constantly making him want to do anything and everything at once.

When he got home that day you weren't there, his need skyrocketing to the moon. He quickly made it to your bed room and moved to the bed taking off his shirt in the process. He searched around frantically for anything of yours, spotting a t-shirt a few feet away. He pulled down his sweats letting his member spring free, bringing the shirt up to his face to inhale your scent and began to jerk off.

You on the other hand just had your friend drop you off, you jumping up the stairs excited to bring home some pastries to your boyfriend. Coming inside you quickly slipped off your shoes and looked around for him. Seeing he wasn't in the living room you headed towards your bedroom asumming he was there. Opening the door to a sight to see, Jongho jerking himself off while smelling your shirt.

You stood there silent until he opened his eyes, him now being in such a deep mindspace he didn't even seem phased. Slipping his pants back up he waltzed over to you and stood there staring at you.

"I've been going fucking insane, Y/N," he spoke getting closer, shutting the door behind you.

"What do you mean baby?" You asked softly at him. He smiled a bit and lifted a hand to your shoulder making you inhale.

"Your little fucking stories Y/N."

You looked at him wide eyed, thinking you might know which one he saw. "Jo- Fuck I'm sorry, oh god," you began to frantically apologize.

That was when he picked you up and held you up against the wall with one arm, the other hand sitting lazily around your neck.

"No. No. You've been driving me crazy in a good way. Now let me fuck you against this wall unless you want me cumming in your t-shirt."

[kkusuka]

Have I told you I hate weak y/n’s that get pushed around by fangirls? No? Well, I hate them 😊

Let’s have Oikawa, Atsumu, Akaashi, Semi, and Terushima react to their normally calm gf, beat the dog shit out of a fangirl that tried to intimidate her for dating said men above. Reader just has a soft smile before cocking her fist back and boxing her shit before holding up the fangirl and looking to the rest like “You wanna end up like her? No? Then know your place~ ☺️”. Then she faces her bf with a sweet smile and says something affectionate like “I brought you lunch, dear. I made it just how you like it 😄” before kissing his cheek like she didn’t go Muhammad Ali on a bitch

<3

Oikawa Tooru<3

Oikawa’s had more than a few less than pleasant experiences with women

Considering he’s always been surrounded by them, from his sister's friends in middle school and being swarmed by them in High school and college- having women around him was nothing new

And for the most part, they were all pleasant

Giving him little gifts and food- that he always gave to you- and just telling him how much they loved watching him play

All things he can deal with before talking to his favorite girl, you

Though, there have been instances of some bold woman who just never get the hint

Whether it be drunkenness or some weird dream of having Oikawa to herself or just blatant disregard of his relationship

And right now just happens to be one of those times- but now you got a firsthand view of the madness.

Whoever this was clearly didn't understand relationships or personal space for that matter

She had a hand on his chest and was just blubbering about how she would be the best wife for him and would make life so much easier- much more than you do for him- and that was just what you saw from the ten seconds you were in earshot

He would normally laugh it offend continue seeking out autographs but he seemed to be locked in an iron maiden

“I promise! Forget about your girlfriend, she’s useless anyways!” and finally a perfect chance to make yourself known

“Tooru, I have your lun-” you attempted to grab him away, him shooting a pleading look to save him before your wrist was snatched from his arm and tugged away and shoved to the side then pushing your body away from the two

“Back off bitch!”

Now,  you were normally a pretty calm person, you knew how to deal with the women and you have been for years.

But you stand by the fact that it was never ok to put your hands on someone- no matter the situation.

But at that moment, you could care less about your silly reparations and breathing methods, that lady put a hand on you and pushed you

You could hear Tooru telling her to keep her hands off you but you just looked around and made sure that everyone saw what had happened, you don't need to be arrested anytime soon

Grabber her arm you detached her from your boyfriends and in the next second your fist was connecting with her face, watching her wither on the floor you turn to your boyfriend who’s now coming towards you

“As I was saying, I have your lunch.”

Atsumu Miya<3

Another guy who’s constantly surrounded by women

Although he is far less appreciative and nice to them, and he makes it a point to be abundantly clear that you are the only woman he will spend the rest of his life with

Something that wasn't too popular with a few specific fans

Every blue moon someone will find his phone number and blow it up with loving messages or try and get his address

The worst it’s been was someone finding his apartment number and thankfully being too far away to come by themselves but they did send some inappropriate images to his PO box and that led him to create an even thinker line between fans and himself

Thankful, the whole of them understood and respected his boundaries

Buuuuut there are always people who go the extra step

Like whoever this is crowding your boyfriend after a win against the Alders with a giant poster of him and a …. Thong

If you were the slightest more stoic you would have held in the laugh that started it all but it seems crazy is crazy no matter how you provoke them

That lady heard you laugh and the flood gates opened, in a split second her hand was on your cheek then she was on the floor holding what you could hope was a broken jaw

You didn't even realize you punched her until a shooting pain went up your wrist

Though before you had a chance to return to your lovely boyfriend, who was standing in the same spot shell shocked (and slightly turned on)  hand grabbed your ankle the flung you to the ground

It was, for lack of a better term, a catfight

She was hitting you and you were hitting her and she was screaming random shit about how awful you were to her precious Atsumu- seriously this lady was insane

Nevertheless, security arrived, and let’s just say that you were in much better condition than she was, who knew you could fight so well?

Though you weren't allowed to come to the next game and had to apologize to the heads of the Volleyball association, Tsumu was proud of you and the internet was on your side- so it was kind of a win-win

Akaashi Keiji<3

He surprisingly doesn't have a swarm of fangirls around him

But it’s much much worse, you’d rather have a mob of girls around him than the four specific psychos that never leave the poor guy alone

Everywhere in school at least one of them is watching the two of you, in class, at lunch- no matter where you try and eat- you swear you even saw one at the boba show you pass on your walk home with him

The worst part?

He thinks it’s funny.

It is hilarious to him that you try so hard to keep them away full knowing he would never leave you for the likes of them. It’s just too cute how you puff up your cheeks and huff about them and honestly, it's a breath of fresh air considering how much everyone kisses up to him

Well- he likes it when they are at a distance

On the off chance they get close to him, it's a different story. They truly are intolerable, and they away try bad-mouthing you to him like it was supposed to mean something that they don't like you

And they only ever do it when you’re away- cowards they truly are. And since they’re always watching, as soon as you left to buy the two of you lunch, one of them was on him in an instant

She was annoying and all she could say was ho you were a ‘poison’ in his life and he had to leave you as soon as possible

He didn't even realize you were there until a hand grabbed the back of her uniform and flung her off him. And from the looks of it, falling on the ground really hurt

“I’m a poison? That’s all you could come up with?”

You didn't even have to say another word, she was already out of sight

Not missing a beat, you handed him his lunch and started talking about the latest episode of the volleyball anime you loved.

Semi Eita<3

First off- a total power couple

Not only are you willing to beat a bitch, but he’s also ready to hype you up while you do it

It’s not confirmed you have, but there are rumors that you fought more than a few girls who were less than pleasant. And it’s not like you do anything for rumor control, you just laugh and turn the other way

Still, even with the rumor mill running rampant, some girls still try and shoot their shot

But this girl has to be the boldest woman on planet earth

Not only was she flirting with an openly taken man, but she was flirting with him as he held his arm around your waist. She even looked at you as she spoke to him, the audacity of people these days

“You like music? That’s crazy, I do too!” you wanted her to shut the fuck up as soon as possible.

What pissed you off more was that he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was letting it happen to spite you.

What happened after this you blame solely on the alcohol the party was providing and not on the fact you wanted to clock this girl the moment you saw her

It was just that suddenly your drink was in her face

Then her drink was in her face, and she was running to the bathroom, maybe she should listen to rumors more often because you don't think strawberry daiquiri will come out of a white crop too so easily

Terushima Yuji<3

He’s an ass

But he’s your ass, somehow

He’s a manwhore and an attention-whore, mix that should have been shot before it could grow into something more

By now you're used to the girls slipping him their numbers and hitting him up on every social media site possible and you remain happy to say he doesn't respond- probably too busy dicking you down to care about any of them

Plus, less than 1%  of them actually approach them in public, and they just happen to be the most insufferable people on the planet.

Desperation doesn't even describe it

Of that 1%, at least half of them try to touch him, running a hand on his arm, tugging at his clothes, maybe even a strand of his hair, all you can deal with because he knows what’ll happen if he even entertains their advances

But for some reason, the only thing that sets you off is when they mention the tongue piercing.

It invokes a rage unknown within you, the second the metal ball’s mentioned you see red. And he fucking loves it, you could be three prefectures over and the second the girl mentions it, you magically appear at his side like you’d been there the whole time

All of a sudden you’re all over him, disregarding this girls words as she tries to bring the conversation back to her, going as far as grabbing your shoulder, and since she touched you first- you had the green light

Your arm pulled back and your fist connected to her cheek

And like nothing ever happened you turned back to the blond

tags: @diamond-3 @rinsangel @heyheyitsne @angelalje @monisi @crystal-lilac @sadpotato10

[fruggo]

Hello ! I saw the enemies fo lovers things and I wanna request if possible

“ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

With frank if you would and thank you

yessirrr i love frank sm it’s not ok. also umm i may have accidentally written friends to enemies to lovers or something idk. and though i wouldnt necessarily call you friends at the start, you werent really enemies yet???? idk🐸just ummm yeh i love frank

also help how do i not go overboard???? i feel like i made this way too long, please help and i am sorry

warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, frank being a bastard but then you’re like awwww he’s a cute bastard aaaaw

~~

Things were weird with Frank, and they always had been from the moment you stepped foot in the Entity’s realm. He always tunneled you relentlessly, and that made you think of him as a big asshole, but there were some strange details tacked onto the sentiment that greatly confused you, should you think about it for more than three seconds.

Sometimes, it seemed like he went easy on you in chases, like he put in no effort. He would chase you for a while, let you waste his time, and then leave without even getting a hit on you when he definitely had the ability to.

And you hated saying this, but when he handled you, it almost felt…gentle. Granted, he was a killer, and his job was to murder you, but your experiences with him did not quite line up with those of the other survivors.

They always described trials against Frank as “stepping on legos in the middle of the night” or something akin to that. You never felt like that, though—when he chased you, it felt fair. Almost as if he played nice with you. And more often than not, the killer would let you go when he caught you. The reason remained a mystery to you until quite a bit later.

This trial, Frank was in 100% bastard mode. You had begun to think of his trials as quite easy due to his seemingly calm nature around you, so you were rather caught off guard when he downed you in the first 30 seconds of the match and tossed you onto a hook, no gentleness whatsoever.

You wanted to yell at him and ask what the fuck was wrong with him until you realized this was his fucking job, and this is how he should have been treating you all along. Maybe you had just been imagining it all, but you could have sworn he used to leave you alone more than this. Something just felt different.

After you were unhooked, he went for you again. And again. And then you were dead, completely wiped out of the trial. Frank had demolished you with no remorse.

You knew it was silly to feel betrayed, but you really couldn’t help it. In such an insane and hellish place, anything that could be even remotely perceived as kindness seemed like so much more of a big deal than it truly was. So Frank’s supposed “gentleness” with you had felt somewhat like a friend doing you a selfless favor. Of course, it was not a selfless favor, and it was certainly nowhere near kindness, because he was still a killer chasing you with a knife, but your standards had really lowered in this place.

After that trial, you were back to hating Frank for tunneling and bullying you (like you probably should). You began to understand the survivors’ saying about the legos—and you hoped that Frank would step on some legos too, because he fucking sucked sometimes.

And for a while, that’s just how it was. You nearly forgot how he used to go easier on you, and how you used to do okay in his matches. Now every time you were pit against each other it just felt like you were being stuck with a bunch of pins; you never had any time to breathe or rest or do literally anything. He just went after you until you were gone, and there was next to nothing you could do about it.

Everything changed very suddenly during a trial at Ormond.

You were expecting the same old routine with this asshole—chase, blah blah blah, die. You hardly had energy to fight back anymore.

So when he arrived out of breath at the killer shack, somehow knowing you would be here, Frank was surprised to find you relaxing under the window with your arms loosely crossed, a disapproving scowl upon your countenance. It was enough to make him hesitate in his tracks.

You let out a deep breath, refusing to break eye contact with his mask; you kept up that menacing frown for as long as you could, trying to make him feel guilty (who knows if it was even possible for him to feel guilty? But it was worth a try).

“Just kill me,” you said, voice steady and seemingly unbothered. Underneath the surface, you were trembling, but you stood your ground. “That’s what you’re gonna do, isn’t it? You’re going to chase me until I’m miserable and kill me off as soon as you can?”

Frank went still, not even fidgeting with his knife like he usually did; he was intrigued by your sudden confidence.

You went on. “I’m really sick and tired of you, you know that? I’m sick of you and your bullshit. Why can’t you treat me like everybody else? At first, you went easy on me. Now you just torture me with your stupid mind games, and frankly, I’m sick of playing! I’m done with you—I don’t care anymore! Just kill me, and I’ll get out of your way, okay asshole? Mori me if you want. I don’t give a shit.”

You put your hands up exasperatedly, fully expecting him to take the offer and just send you back to the campfire right then and there. But the man sighed, pocketed his knife, and sat down right next to you as if this were a normal thing for him to do.

You scooted a few inches away out of instinct. Frank noticed, but he chose not to say a word about it.

It was a long time before he said anything, and when he finally did, you wanted to punch him so bad.

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. And that was all.

Oh, yeah? It was complicated? You scoffed, hanging your head with a bitter smile. “Oh, okay. Sure.”

Silence again.

Awkward, suffocating silence.

And then Frank got up and left. You were unbothered for the remainder of the trial, not even a scratch or bruise on your body.

~~

Sometimes you simply did things, and you didn’t know why. This thing that you just did was irrational, stupid, unplanned, unwise, and everything in-between, and you knew it was, but frequently you just had no impulse control. Perhaps it was the Entity’s influence, or maybe you had always been this way—you couldn’t really remember.

How did you get here again? Why were you laying on the ground? And why did your leg hurt so fucking much?

Oh, yes. Yes, yes, you remember now.

Funnily enough, it seems as though the Entity, along with certain killers, did not like it when survivors tried to enter their side of the forest! But you did it anyways, and it appeared that you had suffered the consequences. It’s not like you had put much thought into it; where was the point in that when nothing mattered anymore and you were stuck in an endless cycle of death?

You remembered entering the killer’s woods, looking around, and doing…something. What was that something? You couldn’t be sure, but then you remembered somebody coming up to you and probably definitely hurting you. Yep, your leg definitely was in a lot of pain. You couldn’t even look at it. Did you pass out for a while? Maybe. How long were you out for?

You lay still there for a while, thinking. Man, it really hurt, and boy, were you miserable. Maybe more miserable than you’d ever felt here. The Entity normally healed wounds immediately, but perhaps you had just angered it so much you deserved to suffer.

Oh, dear! You seemed to be passing out at this time. Yes, that was almost certainly what was happening. Black spots danced across your eyes as your body began to feel distant and numb, but you didn’t feel very worried about it. In fact, you felt like making jokes right now, but you had nobody to make jokes to and you probably couldn’t even speak.

Just as you began to accept it, there was a strange thumping sensation vibrating through the ground growing closer…and closer…

Footsteps! That’s good!

Oh. Not if it’s a killer. That’s not good, probably.

But you had no way of protesting when you felt yourself being picked up, because those black spots in your eyes were dancing a lot faster now, perhaps something akin to an Irish jig, and you also couldn’t feel your limbs.

Then you were fast asleep again, dreaming of Irish dancers who were actually big fluffy cloud people wearing leprechaun clothes. Nobody but you would ever know this, and it was going to stay that way.

On the bright side, it made it a lot easier for your rescuer to carry you to safety like this.

~~

When you awoke once more, you were horrified to find yourself in the Ormond lodge of all places. You knew immediately what had happened and were determined to escape as soon as possible.

Your injured leg proved to be a huge problem, however, and you collapsed the second you attempted to find freedom. Trying again, you collapsed once more, and probably maimed yourself further in the process.

Hearing the commotion from the second floor, your least favorite member of The Legion descended down from the main stairs, refusing to look directly at you even as he scooped you up and plunked you (gently) back onto the couch, which was rather comfortable (not that you would ever tell him that).

So he was playing it cool, huh?

Okay. You could play it cool, too. You were cool. Smooth as butter.

No. You really couldn’t be cool in a situation like this, and plus, your mind was still a little woohoo since whatever accident had occurred. Suddenly you blurted out, “Frank, I hate your guts.”

And he had the audacity to laugh. He laughed at you! He did the man chuckle thing, as if what you were saying was funny. No! You were completely serious! You did hate his guts!

Perhaps your face showed how upset you were, because he started to apologize (still laughing).

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” Frank said after calming down a bit.

No. You couldn’t go back to sleep. You did not want to experience dancing cloud people dressed as leprechauns ever again in your life, for the rest of eternity. Never again.

So you shook your head violently, refusing to give an explanation, which just provoked Frank to anger all of a sudden. If you went back to sleep, he could have some alone time while the rest of The Legion was gone. He kept pushing, and you kept resisting, and he pushed and you resisted, until finally he gave up and let you off with a warning. If you made him mad again, he was throwing you out in the snow.

Fine with me, you said. Okay, I’ll do it right now, he said. No balls, you said.

So then Frank casually went to scoop you up in his arms again, and you started to freak out and beat your hands against his chest until he put you back down. He was was awfully mindful of your hurt leg for someone who was about to throw you into the snow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please don’t throw me out,” you fussed. You thought he wouldn’t actually do it. You didn’t know it, but you were right—he was just messing with you because it was funny seeing you scared.

After a bit more griping back and forth, Frank began to grow concerned about your leg. He didn’t know how to bring up the topic because things were so odd between the two of you; this was your first interaction since the brief encounter in the shack. But he swallowed his pride, because the wound seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

“Hey, do you want me to, uhh…get some supplies?” Frank asked awkwardly. When you didn’t understand, he continued, “Your leg? It looks like it hurts…I could fix it if you want.”

You barked out a laugh at his words, unbelieving of this shift in attitude. “Rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago,” you snickered, genuinely finding it amusing.

Frank took offense. He was trying to be nice for once, and you thought it was funny. And his situation really was complex, whether you chose to believe it or not. Maybe he should just tell you to get it off of his chest.

“Listen,” he said, voice laced with seriousness. “When I told you things were complicated, I meant it.”

Sensing the mood change from his tone and body language, you stopped smiling and decided to pay attention to him. Just this once. Never again. After this you could go back to hating him.

Frank continued. “The Entity was going to start…well, hurting me, if I didn’t start doing better in trials. I really didn’t want to sacrifice you, which is embarrassing to admit, but I’ll say it. And I don’t think it liked that.”

You were surprised. And also relieved that you had been right all along—he had been going easy on you at first.

“Why me, though?” you asked, confused. “Why wouldn’t you want to sacrifice me? What about the other survivors?”

If the slight tilt of his head at your question didn’t answer it for you, the way he started tapping his feet and cracking his knuckles so nervously did.

Boy, if looks could kill, you would have died instantly at the scowl Frank sent your way; you grinned pridefully at the realization that this man was down bad. You couldn’t see the expression behind his mask, though, which Frank was thankful for.

He hated every second of this, but you loved it. You reveled in his embarrassment.

Leaning forward on your hands, you begged, “Tell me more! I want to hear all about your feelings for me.”

“I could stab you right now, you know that?”

“But you won’t. You liiiiike me!”

“What are you, eight years old?”

“No, but I am severely injured and have lost a lot of blood so I am not necessarily in the right headspace at the moment.”

“You make a fair point.”

“So tell me! What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“Your ass.”

“No, really.”

“Okay, your ass and your hair.”

“You know what, Frank, I still hate your guts.”

“No, you don’t.”

You paused for a moment. It was probably the blood loss talking, you decided later, but you said, “No. Maybe I don’t.”

[lemonlurkrr]

@aureateart​ ok. My favourite parts of twilight princess  (and some other random thoughts about TP sprinkled in there) taken from my monster TP word vomit google doc :

Link lmao

Ok but for real, I like this incarnation of Link :)

I love Ordon (it just seems like such a chill and cozy village)

ALSO love how easy it is to interpret Link as being a sort of older brother figure to the Ordon kiddos. It’s just,, super cute? AND GHHH nice nice good thanks nintendo for giving me characters to care about/characters that I can imagine Link caring about

He didn’t sign up for any of this (tbh, none of the Links really signed up for this jshdjsd). But I mean like, dude was just going to take a trip to castle town, drop a gift off for the royal family, and come back. But haHA oopsies he did get to castle town eventually but definitely not the way he expected hsjdhsd

He’s just a little dude?

AND FUCK. HE REALLY HAD NEVER BEEN OUTSIDE OF ORDON UNTIL ALL OF THAT

everything is new for the player AND Link

Midna

She’s cool :)

she really just

*teleports into your jail cell* hello whore.

I am no master at writing but AYYYY she do got a character arc!!!

She was actually pretty helpful sometimes, I ALWAYS checked in with her before turning to a game guide

Other NPCs

NICE

Love all of the TP character designs (ASHEI’S ARMOUR??? AOWOAOAOOAO)

Saving Zelda and all of Hyrule was important yea but thinking back maybe it was more like, the Ordonians and the kids were what was pushing Link to keep on going

I like the Resistance members :) Very video gamey of them to have one NPC assigned to each dungeon but hey!!! Kinda cool getting to see a little glimpse of each of em

Idk, it’s just fun to imagine Link popping into Telma’s bar after each dungeon and taking a little rest :) (or to celebrate? maybe just chat, idk, give this man some downtime!!)

Honestly it was just kind of nice that Link wasn’t entirely alone. I mean, I know Midna was there the whole time, but I am always for giving Link a big group of friends (see my love for hyrule warriors, age of calamity, and LU LMAO)

Hero’s shade, very very cool, kinda sad he died with regrets but HEY. He got to pass on his knowledge eventually

AND the connection to OoT?? AND assumed to be related by blood too????? GOOD SHIT

Ilia, I REALLY really wanted to like her (er, it’s not like I dislike her, she’s just,,, kinda there for me).

It definitely seems like Nintendo was pushing to make her the romantic interest, but GHHHHH they really threw that out of the window for me by having her lose her memories

I saw a text post a while ago that said it would have been interesting if Ilia was Link’s sister instead and YES!! That would have been cool too :0

Wish we got to know Zelda a little more

I feel like we barely know anything about her

Idk man, like I said earlier, I never really had any sort of drive to save Zelda during my playthroughs

She obviously knows Midna, so maybe if they gave us just a little bit more of that relationship I’d be more interested in her?

TP WORLD BUILDINGGGG

Botw has good world building too, but each race felt kinda,,, isolated? I absolutely love the different architecture and vibe each town has (and all the the weapons too) but ghhh yea everyone felt so separated. As far as I can remember, we don’t see tooo much of the races interacting with each other? Now that I’m typing that out maybe that’s to be expected because of the calamity but KLSJDKJFD ANYWAYS THIS IS ABOUT TP

The world feels nice and alive, love how populated everything is

Castle town I like castle town a lot, it feels dense and busy and I really like how you can’t talk to every NPC you see

Very cool very fun that we got to see the Gorons hanging out in multiple spots

kinda wish we got to see the Zoras a little more (I guess they are a bit limited since they need water but GHHHH the tp zoras are so prebby,,)

BUT HEY, I do remember seeing a zora or two hanging out in the hot springs around death mountain after beating the lakebed temple (I think, might have been a different dungeon) 

but aaaa would have been nice to see them in at least a couple of other places. I think it would have really added to the “congrats Link!! You’re restoring peace to Hyrule” feeling you get from seeing the Gorons hanging out in Kakariko and Castle Town

ORDON

Love how chill it is and how it’s kind of separate from Hyrule proper

They really do seem to be doing their own thing apart from the rest of Hyrule

Just kinda adds onto the “he’s just a regular dude minding his own business” kind of vibes I get from TP Link

Also I like Ordona :)

THE LIGHT SPIRITS,,

Love their design

And love how they’re not exactly like a pure white?

Different spirit representing each aspect of the triforce my beloved

But yes hi I think Ordona is very cool

Who are you, how did you get here, which goddess do you represent? Do you even represent one of the three golden goddesses? Do the Ordonians know about you? Have any of them ever SEEN you??? Do they worship you? Does anybody even know about the existence of the light spirits?? FUCK so many questions but ghhh I like how they broke the status quo a bit by throwing in a fourth spirit :)

I feel like this one is kinda weird but I like that voice sample they used in the light spirit music. It’s spooky and pretty at the same time :)  

cutscenes mmmmm

Ok ok, the spooky lanayru cutscene is very good

BUT THE “Link, Chosen Hero! Lend us the last of your power!” CUTSCENE MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM LOVE IT SO MUCH

IT just

Idk man

It just hit different

I like the music

And seeing the light spirits swimming around in the light juice water whatever it is

Summoning the light arrows?

AND HHHHH “Lend us the last of your power!” THIS IS IT. This is the final battle.

Seeing Zelda bow down, and then Link putting his hand out 👌👌👌

Link: ok bud, let’s do this together :)

Connection to OoT (did I already mention this? Maybe., Whatever)

Very cool nintendo :)

I love seeing connections between all the diff zelda games.

Because like, on one hand, they’re all separate from each other because of yknow, individual hero stuff. BUT ALSO, they’re all connected because of the reincarnation stuff

Grrrr walking through the sacred grove and going “The Hero of Time walked around here a long time ago” FUCK THATS SO COOL

Is the Hero’s Shade watching me? What does he think of me? DIsappointed? Proud? The Hero of Time went through HELL so this timeline didn’t have to deal with any of the shit Ganon was gonna pull with the triforce, better not fuck this UP Link!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Midlink is cute

Kinda hurts that she smashed the mirror but that was probably so Nintendo didn’t have to worry about people going “but what about the twili??????” for any of the other games LMAO

BUT ALSO LIKE SKJDKLJFJ There are some pretty massive plot holes in TP anyway so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ whatever it’s fine we’ll just use this for angst because GOD do y’all like angst

So is Shadlink

Honestly don’t know where this ship came from but it’s cute so whatever

THE MUSIC??

Love Midna’s theme and how they referenced the dark world theme from ALttP (I remember trying to learn the dark world theme on the piano and doing the Leonardo DiCaprio point meme at the little jingle I recognized from Midna’s theme)

Hyrule field theme SLAPS.

Apparently references a couple of the other over-world themes from the previous zelda games (I got this from 8-bit Music theory’s video on the over-world zelda themes, he talks about TP at around 11:40 but def recommend watching the whole video if you’re into music analysis stuff)

So there’s this bit of the Hyrule Field theme, I don’t know the official name for it but I remember seeing somewhere it being called the “at an advantage theme” since yeah, you hear it during the boss music whenever you expose their weak points. FUCKINGGG LOVE THAT. Didn’t notice it during my first playthrough, but hearing it during my second was like a little easter egg for my ears every time :)

Midna’s lament is very pretty (and fun to play on the piano)

COURAGE THEME.

I didn’t care for it too much when I started playing the game but hearing it in ZREO’s arrangement of the Hyrule Field theme literally makes me turn into a puddle of emotions. Also hearing it around and of the Ordon kids (I think it plays after Link saves Colin) AAAAAAAAAAAAA

Orchestra piece #1 and #2 HOLY SHIT???????????????? 

Literally, the first time I listened to those I just,,,, plugged in my headphones, volume 100, layed on the floor/against my desk and silently vibed. I don’t know what the hell it is, but those two just fit so well with TP?? I still avoid listening to them nowadays cause if I DO I definitely will get overwhelmed with the “god I love this game so FUCKING MUCH” kind of feels.

Wolf link sucks at singing

the first time I heard him howling Zelda’s Lullaby I lost my shit because LKSJLDKSGLKJFSKG god that was.,, Bad. Anyways, hearing him howl some of the songs from OoT was cute :)

TP STAFF ROLL??? 

VERY GOOD. IT’s like 10 minutes long and GOD do I love every single second of it. It doesn’t have the same energy as the skyward sword staff roll or the orchestra pieces but GOD does it hit good??

Nice and calm after that big exciting adventure. Maybe it would have been more fun or emotional to have a higher energy piece but it was really nice getting to sit back and watch the camera fly around Hyrule. Seeing like, the Gorons and the Zoras having a good time, the kids returning to Ordon? GOOD SHIT.

and AAAAA that end, when you hear the main Zelda theme and see Link riding off out of Faron woods on Epona… good shit. It gets you thinking, where the hell is he going? What is he doing? Off ot do more adventuring? Going to help out the resistance or something? Going to help Zelda? Or maybe he’s trying to figure out a way to restore the mirror of twilight? Whoooo knows.

hhHHHHhhh it’s just that final reminder that YES!!! YOU JUST PLAYED A ZELDA GAME. JUST ANOTHER STORY APART OF THE WHOLE EPIC OF THE ZELDA SERIES AS A WHOLE

I also want to acknowledge the instrument/samples they used for all the twili stuff.

They’re all just so unique and contrast SO well with the rest of the TP OST. LIKE FUCK!! Anytime I hear the screech from the Twilit Kargarok? Sends a shiver down my spine. I associate those sounds SO strongly with the twili realm. (Like, the same way you associate the BSHEWW VVWWMMM sounds with light sabers)

I love it so god damn much

literally any time there’s a certain sound or motif associated with something I lose my shit

Sacred grove sacred grove sacred gro-

lovely lovely lovely so much fun playing that on the piano. AND again, I did the Leonardo DiCaprio pointing meme when I heard the theme from the lost woods come in GHHHHHHHH

shoutout to TP Faron Woods for helping me study and get through all of my schoolwork

BLEGUUHHH can you tell that I really love music?

and also yea I guess TP is kinda cool too :\

IF YOU READ ALL OF THAT THANKS I GUESS

[erodasfishtacos]

Three Minutes

Prompt: Harry slips up and it’s only right his wife serves him a little punishment.

Word Count: 3.2 k +

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (sexting, dirty talk, public, subby!h)

AN: I’m excited to share this!! I’m pretty sure I’m going to do a part 2. Let me know if you’d like to see this! I’m dedicating this to @harrywritingsbyme because she’s an amazing writer and you need to read everything of hers! Requests open ☺️

Reblog if you can!

Harry was dreading his interview with Howard Stern. The guy was an obnoxious prick who had no filter and liked to put people on the spot - it’s what he’s doing right now. 

You were off to the side, watching the interview next to Jeff. It was matter of time before Howard brought you up to pick and prod at your husband.

“So Harry, you’re married, yes?” Howard asks, typical sunglasses on and curly permed hair donned. His mouth a little to close to the microphone.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry smiles tightly, hands rubbing on this upper thighs. He spares a quick glance over to you.

“She’s here, right?” Howard looks over at you and winks, “Fucking gorgeous babe, huh?”

You roll your eyes at the interviewers remark and Harry’s isn’t pleased but nicely responds, “She’s amazing, way out of my league.”

Howard laughs, “Now I have to ask you, does she tour with you?”

Harry replies, “Yeah. For the most part, sometimes she’ll go off to visit family or friends for a bit.”

The interview smirks, “Does she get worried you’re going to fuck other people while she’s not there? I mean you have girls falling at your feet. It must be hard to avoid temptation.”

You blink owlishly, attempting to contain the offended scoff bubbling in your throat. Jeff snickers and you send him a elbow.

Your husbands face can’t hide his annoyance at the question, “Are you asking me if it’s hard not to cheat on my wife?”

“I mean you could have a line up of girls after every show willing to blow you. I couldn’t be satisfied going home to the same thing every night.”

The band is looking back and forth at each other - clearly uncomfortable. Mitch’s face completely blank - of course.

“Well, I mean - I think that kind of stuff like...people going crazy over you was exciting when I was a bit younger. But no, I mean I’m very much in love and also consider myself a monogamous person.”

“Man, I mean - some of the songs you write about her? Watermelon Sugar, that’s clearly about eating her out,” Howard laughs, the tune playing softly in the background.

Jeff nearly chokes on the water he’s drinking and you pat him hard on the back - as payback for making Harry do this interview.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had pussy so good I’d write about it,” the interview jokes crudely. The women interviewer tittering in the background at his antics.

Harry fumbles, “Uh-uhm, it’s not uh- necessarily about anything or any act like...in particular. Just about having a good time with the person you love.”

The female interviewer who stays mostly quite chirps in to break the tension, “Is it hard to be long-distance when she’s not on the road with you?”

“Not at all. Most of the time she’s with me but we’re lucky we have technology that helps us not feel so far away from each other.”

Howard smiles, “How do you not go crazy being without sex for long amounts of time?”

It’s odd how obsessed this guy is with sex. As well as painting Harry as some sex-crazed rockstar who can’t go a day without.

Harry then goes on to put his entire, big ass foot in his mouth. “Y‘know that’s uh-that’s what good about FaceTime and Snapchat.”

The interviewer grins like a predator at Harry’s admission. You’re face is bright fucking pink. You’re gonna murder him.

“Well you heard it here first, folks. The key to how Harry Styles - one of the greatest artist of his time- keeps a happy relationship with his wife while he’s on the road. Dick pics and FaceTime sex.”

Harry glances over at you, his face apologetic as he already knows he in trouble.

You’re not that embarrassed - it not like it’s a weird thing to do but you didn’t want him talking about it with a trashy talk show host. 

The interview is almost over which is good because Harry’s about to lose his temper after he’s asked about his step-father’s passing and the stalker who was harassing you two.

During the interview however, you get a wonderful fucking idea as easy payback for Harry’s little slip up.

After Harry’s tossed his headset and microphone pack off with a little too much force to be unnoticeable - he’s sliding up beside you.

“Baby love,” He murmurs sheepishly into your cheek, nuzzling there for a moment, and breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“You did good, H,” You reply softly, landing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back to brush his hair off his forehead.

“Y’not mad?” Harry asks warily, knowing he got nervous and gave a little too much information.

“No baby, not mad at all,” Your voice steady and believable. It was true - you weren’t mad, just a little annoyed.

He seems confused. He knows you like the back of his hand and usually, you get peeved when he says something in interviews you’d rather the word not know.

Like the one time he let it slip you had an affinity for hooking up in hotel pools after dark. Prat.

**

Harry multiple appearances that day and it ends in a dinner at a fancy restaurant in Beverly Hills with big wigs.

You were invited but declined, despite Harry’s pouting and whines for you to go. You were the only thing that made these work obligations go faster.

However, you had other plans and a little bit of revenge to play on your unsuspecting husband.

All in good fun - of course.

**

Harry sits down with a group of people from his label. They’re all dressed in tight suits and rolex watches.

Harry on the other hand is in a flowy button-up only halfway done and a tight pair is skinny jeans. Jeff is dressed pretty casually too.

They were talking about tour dates and had just received their appetizers when he gets the text from you. Your name in his phone as baby love.

Harry nearly chokes on his water when he opens the message to reveal an image of you nearly naked in your shared bed. You skin tone standing out against the baby blue comforter.

You have one of his vintage tees on as well as some creme boyshort panties. The shirt is lifted though, rumpled up by your collarbones to reveal your breasts.

Harry wants to drool over the picture but doesn’t want to risk anyone else seeing his wife in any state of undress. So he quickly responds.

Baby, I’m at dinner.

You reply with another picture. A hand tucked down your underwear, cupping your heat. He can see the outline of your fingers underneath the thin fabric.

Already have something you could eat.

Harry can already feel himself twitch in his jeans. Cut it the fuck out now

Another. Fucking. Picture. Comes through.

This time you’re completely stripped, tits visible with soft pink peaks, and a hand strategically covering your cunt. 

Make me, H.

It clicks what game you’re playing. You rarely sent anything risqué when you where together because you had each other physically.

Harry curses under his breathe, locking his phone and pushing back his chair a little too fast - excusing himself to the loo.

As soon as he clicks the lock on the single-person restroom, he’s pressing on your contact information and you pick up on the very first ring.

“You bloody brat, I’m out at dinner,” Harry hisses at you, giving himself a rough squeeze through his tighten trousers.

All he hears back is a breathy moan. He’d know that sound anywhere - you’re touching yourself.

“What the fuck are you playin’ at?” Your husband demands, but the clipped edge in his tone tells you how much it’s affecting him.

“Just a little payback, babe...for spilling our dirty secrets,” you hum innocently, deciding to send him another picture.

It’s a simple photo without context some might not even understand. It’s just your hand but your fingers glistening with your arousal. 

Harry’s hand is about to crush is phone into bits as his eyes roam the picture. He was nearly panting, already able to imagine the taste and smell.

He takes a deep breath before he threatens you, “if you don’t pull your desperate little self together right now- I’m not going anywhere near that needy cunt and I’ll make you spend all night choking on me.”

Instead of the typical, sad whimpers he expects to hear - he receives a patronizing, high-pitched giggle.

“That’s not how it’s going to work tonight, H,” you inform him in a matter-of-fact manner before continuing, “we’re playing by my rules.”

Your husband laughs in disbelief, echoing against the bleak bathroom walls, “and what those rules, sweetheart?”

“You’re going to go sit through your nice little dinner, rockstar. And I’m going to send you pictures, maybe some videos to watch to keep you entertained. If you don’t open them within three minutes each time and reply - you’re not coming tonight. The couch will have a blanket and pillow ready for you.”

If he was in charge, he’d laugh and remind you that you two have three lovely guest rooms he could choose from. But he doesn’t want to push it.

“Fuck,” Harry spits, having to cram his hand into his jeans to adjust himself so he doesn’t look like a pervert when he goes back out.

But he was so fucking game.

He’d do anything you wanted from him - no matter if he could embarrass himself in front of business partners or fans. He was besotted, whipped, whatever you wanted to call him.

“Are you going to be good for me, baby?” You coo tauntingly, from the other end of the line. Basking in his little huffs of air and the agitated lift in his voice.

“Yeah, m’gonna be good,” he murmurs gruffly, his demeanor had changed now that he wasn’t in charge any longer - always willing to let you be dominant when you wanted to be. 

It wasn’t often - but when you did, Harry would fall into a nice, fuzzy headspace of compliance and submission. He always wanted to please and this amplified all of his desires.

“Best husband I could ask for, you know?” You reward, knowing that the games are just getting started and you wanted to make this last.

“I love you s’much,” Harry automatically returns, with deep devotion and honesty. His voice as sweet as maple syrup.

“Are you hard, H?” 

He grips himself, like he’d just remember, “m’really fucking hard for you.”

“Snap an picture for me, pull yourself together, and then go back to your table - don’t forget the rules.”

“Yes ba-“

Then you end the call while he’s talking.

Harry’s a little shaky as he swipes onto his camera. He grips the thick outline of his cock, rings glinting in the dull lights, and takes a picture.

He hopes it’s good enough and quickly sends it before splashes some cold water on his face and thinking of anything but his naked wife laying at home in their bed - wet and horny.

Jeff gives him a side-eye when he sits back down, casually throwing a napkin over his lap because he can’t help the semi that refuses to go down all together.

“You alright?” His manager asks him, the others still in the throws of tour venues and vendors discussions.

Harry nods, lying easily “the missus couldn’t find her phone charger - thought I nipped it.”

“You do love to steal those,” his friends agrees before cutting off one of them men to suggest three days at Madison Square Garden instead of two.

Harry’s clutching his phone like a lifeline, anticipating the indicative text vibrations that let him know you’ve sent something.

However, despite how many times he checks, fifteen minutes pass and still nothing has sent from you. He almost starts to worry if you’re okay.

But just like the sneaky little thing you are, you wanted to give him enough time to calm down and relax before rilining him up again.

When it finally alerts him, he’s unlocking his phone and opening the message thread as fast as possible. 

The picture makes his jaw almost drop on the fucking carpeted floor. You’re in one the large closets in your home- the one that holds all of his Gucci suits in particular.

There is a massive floor to ceiling mirror in this room that you’re standing in front of. You’ve slid on one of his custom silk Gucci button-ups that has styles embroidered on the breast pocket without doing doing up any of the buttons.

He’s an absolutely goner for you in anything that makes you look like his property - the large engagement ring and wedding band on your left ring-finger satiates that feeling quite well.

It takes he a moment before he realizes what else you’re wearing. Your fucking collar. It sat tight around your neck, the expensive leather biting into your skin.

Your one hand was holding the phone and the other had a hand teasing at one of your hardened nipples through the silk fabric of the shirt.

He keeps his phone in his lap with a dim light setting so nobody can risk a chance at seeing such explicits pictures of what’s his.

You look so good with my name on you, baby. Please, want to see you in just the collar, take off the shirt.

Harry fumbles along with the conversation, that’s revolving all around him, “Yeah, I loved Argentina. Definitely want to got there again.”

Buzz.

How’d you already forget I’m in charge? Maybe I’ll just go to bed if you’re not going to follow instructions.

As punishment - if you can really call it that - in the next image you don’t have the collar on any longer and you’ve done up a few buttons on the silk shirt.

Harry feels panicked at the thought of you stopping. He was in a nice, soft headspace clinging onto anything you were willing to give him - desperate to make you happy.

I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be good for you. You’re so fucking sexy. I can basically taste you on my tongue.

“Harry?” Jeff draws him out of his haze. He’s looking at him expectantly, eyebrow quirked, and a martini in his hand.

“What did you say?” Harry asks, eyes itching to dart back down to the screen of his mobile.

“Would you want Kacey to open for you again in North America?” Jeff repeats with annoyance.

“Oh, uh-yeah, that’d be great,” he tells them without really think about it.

He should be paying attention to this pretty important meeting but he can’t when he gets another alert.

The video is back in the bedroom, your delicate fingers sliding down your torso with the button-up pooled around your ribs.

Your hand slowly, at a near crawl- traces down with the camera until the manicured tips of your fingers are at your mound.

Harry’s stomach is tensing in excitement as he watches your fingers dip into the part in your slick, swollen folds.

He has to bite back a groan when the video cuts off and he reads the text below the attachment.

Was this the pussy you enjoyed eating so much you won a Grammy writing about? Was Howard right in his interview?

If Harry was in charge, he would have delivered a few resounding smacks to your arse for how cocky you were being - despite it being the absolute truth.

Did he write and win a Grammy based on a song about how much he loved eating his wife out? Sure fucking did.

Baby love. Yeah, wrote it about you. Write all my songs about how much I love you and your body. Everything is yours.

Harry is so good when he’s subby - is the thing.

Harry was a sappy sod anyways, always ready to tell you how much he loved you and thousand of other sweet things. This just amplified all of his warm, fuzzy emotions.

Send me a picture of your left hand

He hesitates for a moment, still nodding along to the ebb and flow of the business talk but having no actual idea what they’re talking about.

Harry places his large, wide hand flat on the table in front of him. He knew why you wanted his left hand - you were just as possessive as him. 

You want to see his long, slim fingers that feel so good inside of you. You want to see the glimmer of his wedding band as well as the tattoo of your name on the outer curve of his hand.

He doesn’t think to turn off his flash. It ends up going off in the dimly lit restaurant and blinding the table, reflecting off the silver flatware. 

He looks like a complete knob - taking a picture of his hand but also something weird Harry may do anyways and upload to his Instagram.

The men blink a few times and look at him with a confused expression. Jeff jabs him roughly in the side.

“Uh, snapchat streak,” he mumbles, tucking his phone back into his lap and sending it.

You were cutting it close, babe. 2 minutes, I don’t like waiting. But fuck, who’s name is that on your hand, who’s that ring for?

You, you baby. All of its for you, promise. I belong to you, only you for the rest of my life.

The response is quick.

But...you have girls falling at your feet, lining up to blow you.

A direct quote for the interview today. Brat - she knew how he hated when people assumed or talked like he had no self control or morals.

Only want your mouth, your cunt, your tits. So bloody gone for you, baby. Please send me another video.

He really shouldn’t be egging you on.

Your being greedy but you’ve been following the rules so I’ll allow it.

The video does not disappoint. You’re hand is nestled down between your thighs, pinching at your puffy, stimulated bud. Just the amount of pain you like. It’s a short clip but it has him wriggling in his seat.

He watches it again but before he can finish it - Jeff is snatching his phone out of his shaky hands and tucking it into his own pants pocket.

The manager’s obviously sick of the lack of focus and honestly, how disrespectful Harry’s being which is something he usual never is.

“Pay attention,” he whispers with a sharp, irritated tone before clapping Harry on the back to play off the scolding to the group.

Harry feels a knot form in his stomach as his phone sits stagnant in his friends pocket. His wife sitting, impatiently waiting for his response that she’s not going to get.

He watches his vintage wristwatch as fifteen minutes pass, he hears a few buzzes from his phone that go unattended.

Harry’s not fuzzy anymore - well not in a good way. He has anxiety bubbling in his tummy and his semi had finally disappeared from nerves of disappointing you.

He decides to engage in the conversation to keep his mind off of what is waiting for him at home. He craved to look at those images and videos again. To have it in real life.

**

It had been three hours since he responded. The people at the table insisting on dessert and alcoholic coffees despite Harry saying he was exhausted from a long day of promo.

At the end of dinner, Harry would love to lie and say he’s recovered from his shakiness but he hadn’t.

After shaking the hands of the record label men, he walks to his car with Jeff. He gets a nice talking to before his phone is being placed back into his hand and he’s sliding into his obnoxious vintage Ferrari.

He takes a deep breathe before he unlocks his phone. The buzzes he heard where not all from you. A few from Twitter, his mum, Niall. There was only one from you.

Game Over. You lose.

—

Thank you for reading💕🥺

[skyeet-the-writer]

okay i’m not sure if you are taking like open requests but corpse and reader are dating and nobody really knows but like the fans ship it and stuff, and they are playing among us with jack, felix, rae ect,, and someone invites somebody and it’s reader ex boyfriend and corpse notices that she’s acting really quiet and he texts her like “baby are you okay??” and she tells him that’s her toxic ex and during an emergency meeting, her ex suspects her and when she defends herself he says something along the lines of “don’t believe her she’s a fucking liar, she’s been one since the day i first met her” and everyone is like ??? but corpse flips out on him and just snaps telling him to leave his girlfriend alone which breaks his cover so everyone knows about you guys and just like really mad corpse and having to help him calm down and you get up from your seat to see him in his streaming room and just sit on his lap and he’s like “fuck that guy it’s okay baby we can just play minecraft or something” lmaooo 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i know that was so specific but the thought makes me so soft i would actually cry if you wrote this

This Is A Shout Out To My Ex

here’s my first request guys! so sorry they’re taking so long. i’m trying to get these done before i do anything else. hope you guys enjoy! x,

corpse x female!reader

summary: while paying a game with her friends, y/n’s toxic ex joins the game. when he calls her a liar, corpse snaps and defends his girlfriend

word count: ~4.4k

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse, gaslighting, near-death experiences, swearing, some angst but it has a super fluffy end!

Living with your boyfriend is, obviously, amazing in every way. You see each other all the time, you get to cuddle almost all the time, and you get to see his handsome face every morning.

Probably, the only downside is the fact that living together makes it nearly impossible to hide the fact that you’re dating.

But, somehow, you’ve managed to keep it a secret from you rabid fans for the past four months. You literally have no idea how because you’re pretty sure you accidentally got a glimpse of Corpse walking by while you were doing a vlog.

Miraculously, no one noticed it. Then again, none of your fans knew what he looked like, so there’s a plus. There were one or two comments asking who the person in the back was, but you lied and said it was a friend. Technically, you weren’t wrong.

And so you’ve been trying to keep your relationship with Corpse on the DL to avoid any stress or anxiety his way. You could deal with it, you’ve been doing Youtube for years and could handle almost anything. Corpse, bless his heart, might not be able to.

One morning, you’re awoken by some slight tugging on your hair. You crack your eyes open but the bright light makes you whine and close them again. There’s a soft laugh behind you and you roll over onto your back, scooting over closer to him. You stretch your legs and grin, still keeping your eyes closed. 

“Did you sleep at all?” you ask in a quiet voice, your head resting on your lover’s chest.

“No,” he answers in his deep voice and you feel him play with your hair. “Anxiety, insomnia, the usual shit.”

You hum and open your eyes slowly, deciding to brave the light. You blink up at Corpse who is staring at the ceiling. “What were you thinking about?” Your own voice is a bit scratchy and rough. 

He looks down at you and you take notice of how bloodshot his eyes are and the bags under his eyes. “How pretty you are when you sleep.” He grins.

“You watched me when I slept?” you ask and playfully narrow your eyes at him. “You creep.”

He laughs and you turn around onto your side, your back facing him. “Baby, no, I didn’t mean it that way.”

You smile. “You’re so creepy, Corpse.”

He doesn’t say anything but you hear him sit up in bed. You begin to ask what he’s doing but then he lifts up the back of your shirt to press a few kisses to your back. “You’re still here, though. With me.”

“Hm. Yeah.” You turn around and he gazes at you. “Because I love you.”

His eyes light up in the way that they always do when you tell him those three, simple words. You love seeing them light up that way and you grin. “I love you, too.” He leans in for a quick kiss.

“What time is it?” you ask when you pull away.

Corpse reaches over to his side of the bed and turns his phone on. “Noon.”

“Noon?” you shout and sit up so quickly you get a head rush. “We were supposed to be playing Among Us with Sean, Pewds, Toast, Rae, and them.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You turn and see him with his hands covering his face.

You walk over to him and kneel next to him. “Babe? What’s up?”

He just groans and you frown. He doesn’t feel good. 

You push his hair from his forehead. “I can tell them that you’re not feeling up for it. They all know you, they’d understand.”

He shakes his head and runs his hands down his face before they rest on his chest. “No. No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” He gives you a smile.

You kiss his cheek. “Okay, then, babe. C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” You grab his hands and tug him up until he’s in a sitting position. He pulls you in for another kiss but you lean away.

“You have morning breath,” you tell him when he gives you his sad eyes. “Brush your teeth and then I’ll kiss you.”

That seems to get him out of bed and into the bathroom while you change clothes. You change out of your sweatpants and t-shirt and into jeans and a shirt. He walks out of the bathroom yawning and you walk past him to go to the bathroom.

I wish he’d sleep, you think to yourself while brushing your teeth. After brushing your teeth, you wash your face and do a little bit of makeup so you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed even though you did.

Corpse walks into the bathroom as you’re finishing your makeup and has a mug of coffee for you. You’re the only one in the house who drinks coffee since he can’t, so you always find it so sweet that he makes it for you.

“You made me coffee?” you ask and he nods. You take it from him and give him a peck. “Thank you, love.” 

You take a sip and grab your phone from your nightstand and shove it into your pocket. You walk out of the bedroom the two of you share and into the kitchen to check on your cat. 

Before you met him, Corpse had never really wanted a pet. He said that they die and he doesn’t want to deal with that, which you understand. But after the two of you had been dating for three months and you had been living with him for a month and a half, you begged him to let you get a cat. You knew he couldn’t say no to you. 

“Where’s Inky?” you call out to your boyfriend after not finding your cat in the living room or the kitchen. 

“In here,” he calls back and you follow his voice. Corpse is sitting in his chair getting ready to stream. You spot a black cat sitting on his table, licking at his hand. Corpse laughs and pets the animal on the head. “Stop licking me, girl. Your tongue feels weird.”

You smile and walk over to him, picking the cat up. “Come on, Inky, let’s leave dad to do his job, yeah?”

The young cat meows up at you and stares into your soul with her green eyes. You lock her gaze and have a staring contest. You lose, however, and blink away. 

“Why is your cat so weird?” you ask, placing the cat back down and watch her run away. 

“Probably gets it from her mom,” Corpse mumbles and you hear a smile. 

You scoff and smack his hand away gently when he reaches out to you. “Fine, you don’t get a kiss before the stream.”

“No, wait!” he shouts and grabs your hand, pulling you towards him. “I was kidding, baby.”

You smile at him and cup his cheek. “I know.” You lean down and give him a long, deep kiss. You feel him smile against your lips and you pull away. He gives you a smile.

“I love you,” he mutters, brushing some hair away from your face. 

“I love you more.” You grab his hand and press a kiss against his knuckles. You take a step back. “I’ll see you in the Discord chat, babe.”

“Okay. Also, don’t close the door all the way!” he calls to you and you look back at him, your hand on the doorknob. 

“Why?” you ask, leaning on the doorframe. 

He takes a second to respond. “Because I want Inky to come in here later.”

You laugh but smile. “Okay, fine.” You walk away from the door and across the hall into your own recording room. 

Your room is a lot different than your boyfriend’s. His room is dark and doesn’t have a lot in it. Yours, on the other hand, probably has too much stuff. Most of it is gifts from fans like stuffed animals and other knickknacks. Your desk, monitors, and lights take up a lot of the already limited space. You turn both your ring lights on after closing the door and turn on the LED lights you have attached to the ceiling. You switch them to the f/c setting and put the remote next to your coffee mug. You sit down in your black and white gaming chair and set everything up after putting on your headset. 

You join the Among Us game after beginning your stream and then the Discord call. You seem to join before Corpse because you can’t see him in the call. 

“You’ve finally decided to join us, y/n!” Felix exclaims and you smile. 

“Am I late?” you ask, taking another drink of your coffee. 

“No,” Sean replies. “I mean, we played a couple of rounds to pass the time, but nothing interesting happened.”

You nod and glance at who all is in the chat. It seems to be you, Felix, Toast, Charlie, Rae, Sean, later Corpse, and someone else who’s tag sounds familiar. 

“Oh! I invited someone new!” says Rae. “He’s a friend from college. y/n, this is Dallas.”

“Hey, y/n.”

Your eyes widen and your blood goes cold at the sound of his voice. You know him. You used to date him. In highschool before you moved away. You remember how toxic he was. He would always blow you off when you wanted to hang out and when you did hang out, he always played video games and never talked to you. 

“Hi, Dallas,” you stutter out. “Uh, hey, didn’t you and I go to highschool together?”

You can practically hear his smirk. “Yeah. We did.”

“I didn’t know you two went to school together,” Rae says happily. 

“Yep,” Dallas says. “We were friends, too.”

You want to throw up.

Suddenly, your loving and not toxic boyfriend joins the call and your spirits lift. 

“Corpse!” you exclaim, almost letting another word slip out. 

“You’re here,” says Rae. “Good noon!”

“Yeah, I’m not a morning person,” he says and you just now notice how deep his voice is. “I just woke up.”

“Oh my god,” Felix says. 

“Jesus,” says Charlie, dragging out the ‘u’.

“You just woke up?” asks Toast. 

He’s a liar, he didn’t sleep at all, you think but keep your mouth shut and laugh. 

“It’s like a forty-hertz voice,” Sean says. 

“It sounds like short wave radio,” Charlie adds. 

You laugh. “You sound like spoken brown note.”

Corpse laughs. “This is me when I wake up, that’s what...” He cuts himself off and laughs again.

“I’m scared,” says Dallas. 

“I didn’t know it could get any lower!” exclaims Sean. 

“I didn’t know you could hit puberty twice.” Felix laughs. 

After some more laughter, Corpse is introduced to Dallas. 

“Hey, man,” Corpse says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Dallas replies. 

“Can we start the game now?” Sean asks when everyone is in the waiting room. You take a sip of your coffee while Rae starts the game. 

You mute yourself as your role is revealed and let out a sigh of relief. “Crewmate. Good, this makes this less stressful.” You go into the hallway, following Felix and Sean to go do wires. You clear the two of them and you three go up to admin. “Okay, so for those of you wondering about my reaction to Dallas joining the stream is that he’s my ex. Uh, we dating in highschool and broke up around the end of senior year. So this is pretty awkward for me.” You break away from Sean and Felix to go do a task in the greenhouse. 

You leave out the part about Dallas where he was borderline abusive. You remember him shouting at you for asking for the littlest of things to him gaslighting you and guilt-tripping you into going skinny dipping with him. 

Maybe that’s why you love Corpse so much. He’s the opposite of Dallas. He’s sweet and he’s caring. He’s never once raised his voice at you unless you were beating him in a game. Even then you both knew he wasn’t serious. And he had never once pressured you to do something you didn’t want to do. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when someone reports Rae’s dead body. You unmute yourself and take another drink of your coffee. 

“I found her in decontamination,” Dallas says. “I opened the door and she was right there.”

“I was down by storage doing wires,” you tell them, putting your mug down. “And I was with Felix and Jack for the beginning and I’m pretty sure they’re cleared. So it has to be either you, Toast, or Corpse. Or Charlie.”

“You almost forgot about me,” he says and you laugh. 

“We never vote on seven, right?” Toast says. 

“Not if no one is sus, no,” Corpse answers. 

“I’m skipping,” says Sean. 

You nod and skip voting. “Same here.”

Everyone skips voting and you continue on. You do the rest of your wiring tasks and go out to the balcony where you notice Corpse standing out there. You smile and walk up to him and make your characters’ “eye” parts touch. “Look, Corpse. We’re touching eyeballs.”

You can just barely make out his laugh from the room across from yours and you grin before doing to do your task. You glance at your chat while you run to the reactor with Corpse. “How have you guys been doing? Hope you’re having a good day. Don’t forget to drink some water and eat something.” You smile at the camera and enter decontamination with Corpse and Toast. 

When you enter reactor, Corpse and Toast each go to do it and you head to the sorting in the lab when suddenly a body is reported. 

You decide to be quiet and drink from your coffee while everyone else discusses what happened. You zone out a little when Dallas talks and your mind flashes back to memories you’ve been trying to forget. 

“Wait, who are we voting?” you ask when you suddenly snap back to reality. 

“Felix,” Sean answers. “He vented right in front of me.”

You nod and vote for Felix and he gets ejected. 

pEWds was ejected 

1 imposter remains

You mute yourself once more and continue to do your tasks and stick with Corpse as much as you can. Your chat notices this and begins to blow up with the ship name they have for the two of you. You laugh at the chat as you scan yourself. “Why are you guys freaking out about Corpse and me? We’re literally just walking.”

Another body is reported and this time it’s Toast’s. You know who the imposter is. You unmute yourself and quickly say, “It’s fucking Dallas, it’s a self-report.”

“What?” Dallas exclaims and you immediately sense the hint of anger in his tone. He used to get so mad during video games and it seems like nothing has changed in the past few years. “How’s it me? It could be Charlie.”

“Charlie is dead, too,” Sean says. 

“Yep. And I know both Corpse and Sean are cleared because I was with Sean for a long time and I just watched Corpse get scanned.”

Dallas scoffs. “Well, shit, you got me there.”

After Dallas is ejected, the crewmates win and you all start another round. You suddenly don’t feel like talking too much anymore and do your stream in mostly silence. Just Dallas being there and in the same call as you is making you anxious and bringing up memories you don’t want to remember. 

Your chat asks you about this and you ignore it as you continue to do your tasks as a crewmate. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, looking at who it is. 

corpse 🖤

are you okay? you’re being really quiet

y/n

yeah, ig. just that dallas is my ex. toxic ex too

corpse 🖤

want me to kill him for you? im imposter

You smile and shake your head. “Oh, Corpse,” you whisper to yourself. 

y/n

no dont kill him lol

You put your phone back down on the table and look back at the game. 

You don’t pay too much attention to the game until the fourth round after you and Rae lost as the imposters. You’re a crewmate once again and you’re peacefully doing your tasks when suddenly something lays on your bare feet. 

“What the?” You look down at your feet and see a little dark fuzzball on your feet. “Inky, get off my feet, baby.” You move your feet and pick her up. You hold her in your arms like a baby the way she likes and rub her belly. “Okay, go see your dad.” Inky jumps out of your arms and you watch her leave your recording room. 

You turn back to your task and continue to do them without any interruptions. You notice, however, that Dallas has been following you for most of the round. You’re starting to get a little nervous and you run into the cafeteria to get away from him when he calls an emergency meeting.

You unmute yourself and Dallas says, “I think it’s y/n. I’m pretty sure she’s faking tasks.”

“Except I’m not,” you tell him. “You’re the one following me around, too, Dallas. What’s up with that, huh?”

“I’ve been following you because you’re acting sus.”

You glare at Dallas’s character on the screen, heat rushing to your face. “I’m literally doing my tasks, I know you saw me do the card swipe--”

“Don’t listen to her,” Dallas says and he sounds far too confident. “She’s a fucking liar. She has been since the first day I met her.”

By now your face is completely red from anger and you gasp. “Excuse me?”

“What are you talking about?” Sean asks. “I’ve known y/n for a long time, she’s never told a lie so long as I’ve known her.”

“That’s because she’s too good at it,” Dallas says in a snarky tone and you’ve never wanted to punch a screen more in your life. “Her and me used to date in highschool but I broke up with her because she lied to me about everything.”

“That’s not fucking true!” you shout and you can hear blood rushing to your ears. “I was the one who broke up with you after you gaslighted me about not hanging out with you enough when in reality you were always hanging out with your stupid football friends!”

“She’s lying--”

“The fuck are you saying about my girl?” Corpse demands. 

The chat goes silent for a moment. Corpse just called you his girl. You look at your live chat and it’s exploding with “i knew it”s and lots of keyboard smashing.

“Your girl?” Dallas asks after a moment.

“Yes. My girl. As in my girlfriend.” He sounds so possessive and it’s kind of hot to you. “Why are you calling her a liar?”

Dallas stumbles on his words. “B--because she is one.”

“Right. And how long have you known her?”

“I knew her in highschool--“

“Nevermind, I literally don’t care,” Corpse interrupts him. “I’ve been living with her for the past five months and she’s never lied to me about anything.”

Dallas is quiet for once. Everyone is. No one is really even breathing but your heartbeat is rattling your brain and blood is rushing through your ears.

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” you whisper. You swallow thickly and glance at your chat. Luckily, they’re all defending you and yelling at Dallas. You turn back to the screen. “Dallas, I’m not the imposter. And stop making stupid ass accusations.”

“I--“

“Kick him,” says Felix and you can tell he sounds mad.

“No wait--“ Dallas begins to say.

“No!” Rae interrupts. “I knew there was something off about you.”

“You don’t get to come in here and talk shit about our friend,” Jack says.

“I was kidding,” Dallas tries to explain.

But then something inside you snaps. You forgot how much you hate Dallas. How he always turned the blame on you when he did something wrong. How you almost lost all of your friends because he convinced them that you were a bad person.

At first, you thought he had changed. You thought that he had actually grown up. Turns out that people don’t change.

“Like you were kidding when you almost got me kicked out of the house because you made me go out with you to go drinking?” you ask. “Or how you played a stupid trick on me when I was driving us to school and I almost fucking crashed the car and nearly killed us?”

“Jesus.” You can hear him roll his eyes. “You’re still on about that? It was April Fool’s, you should have expected it—“

“I shouldn’t have expected shit!” you yell and it comes out raw. The memory flashes in your mind and you cringe. “That wasn’t funny, Dallas! You weren’t funny! I fucking hated my life in high school. I was already stressed out because I thought I wasn’t smart enough and you being my boyfriend and ignoring me and manipulating me didn’t help.

“So fuck you. Fuck you for everything you did to me when we were teenagers. Fuck you for making me think that you changed and were actually nice and then ripping that away from me. But you know what? Thanks. Thanks for being my ex because you made me what I am today and you’re the reason I moved to California and met the love of my life.”

You suck a deep breath in and wipe at the tears that had fallen. You put your hand on your camera. “Speaking of which, I need a hug from him. Bye, guys.”

You stop streaming and disconnect from everything. You turn your computer off, unplug your headset, and turn your lights off. You sit in your chair trying not to cry in the dark.

Corpse, your mind says and you open your eyes. You really want a hug. His hugs are the best. You take your headset off and walk out of your recording room. Before you walk into Corpse’s recording room, you head to the living room and grab a fluffy gray blanket and wrap it around yourself.

You don’t even bother to knock on the door and just walk in. His room is still dark and it appears like he’s angry. You can tell by the way his voice is deeper and how he looks like he’s shaking.

But when you tap on his shoulder, he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Babe.”

You sniffle and he pushes away from his desk. You shake your head and pull his arms up above his head and settle yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of him, and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Baby,” he whispers and you lean your cheek on his shoulder. “Just fuck off, Dallas.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and you shift up a little, pushing your nose into his neck. He smells nice. “Stop talking to them.”

“What?” he looks down at you and asks what you’re doing when you take his headset off. You unplug them, thereby disconnecting him from the stream. “y/n, what are you doing?”

“I want to cuddle with you,” you mutter and bury your face into his neck.

You feel him wrap his arms around your back and he pulls you up, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Okay, baby. We can cuddle.”

The two of you sit like that for what feels like a long time. You hear Corpse’s phone buzz, but the two of you ignore it. He kisses the side of your head and you smile.

You sigh deeply as he tightens his hold against you. “Fuck that guy, baby. It’s okay.” He moves his shoulder and you look up at him. “Wanna go play Minecraft?”

A grin spreads across your face and you nod. Corpse smiles back and picks you up, bridal style, blanket and all. You squeal and laugh as he carries you to the living room. “Put me down, Corpse!”

“Alright.” He drops you into the couch and turns around to turn the Xbox on.

You huff and push your hair out of your face, keeping the blanket wrapped tight around your body. “I didn’t mean literally drop me, dummy.”

He shrugs and sits next to you, handing you a controller. “Should’ve been more specific, baby.”

You scoff but can’t hide the small smile creeping onto your lips. “Jerk.” You put the controller next to you on the couch and move the blanket so it’s over both of your laps and you lean into his side.

After playing Minecraft for the majority of the afternoon and evening, you finally drag Corpse to bed with you after ordering pizza for dinner.

His arms are wrapped tight around your waist as your back is pressed against his chest. Inky hops up onto the bed and nuzzles your hand until you begin to pet her. She lays down on her belly and you gently pat her.

“Am I really the love of your life?” Corpse asks after a long time of sitting in the quiet darkness

You nod against the pillow. “Yeah. You are.”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s smiling when he kisses the back of your neck.

Your phone on your nightstand lights up and you head Corpse’s phone buzz again as well. You think for just a moment about all of the texts, all of the messages, all of the DMs you’re getting about what happened. For a second, you panic. What if people don’t think that you’re worth to be dating Corpse? What if people are calling you a pussy for how you reacted to Dallas? What if everyone hates you?

But those thoughts immediately go away when Corpse mumbles something in that husky voice of his that makes the butterflies in your tummy come back. “You’re the love of my life, too.”

“Yeah?” you hum, your eyes slipping shut.

“Yeah,” he says and you can tell that he’s getting tired as well. “And I’m gonna marry you someday.”

An involuntary smile spreads across your face and your entire body overheats. You bite your lip in the darkness and whisper,

“And I’m gonna say yes.”

But he’s asleep. His breathing has evened out. He shouldn’t have heard you.

You know he heard you somehow, though, because his arms tighten around your waist. You wiggle backward so that you’re flush against his chest and his head drops down onto the top of your head.

You place your hands over his and close your eyes. Finally, he’s sleeping.

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

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[katecake]

Scars

I needed me a Jaskel Soulmate AU where Jaskier knows his soulmate’s a witcher, but he also knows it’s not Geralt. After wondering how that would happen, I finally came up w/ this!!

__

Imagine a world where soulmarks exist. While not exactly rare, they’re still fairly uncommon.

Little Jaskier’s soulmark is on the inside crook of his elbow. The face of a fierce silver wolf. For as unrealistic and stylized as it is, it’s still undeniably a wolf. His parents sneer at it. The servants and teachers are all uncomfortable when they see it. Little Jaskier, though? Oh how he loves it. He doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know what it means, doesn’t know its significance. But he loves it nonetheless.

Jaskier’s only five years old when he learns what a Witcher is. He’s only five years old when he’s taught to fear Witchers.

Jaskier’s twelve and he’s being held down as he begs and pleads and screams. He screams as the other boys bring a knife to his soulmark, laughing all the while. Because, what soulmate could a monster have than another monster?

Jaskier’s twelve when he makes the connection between his soulmark and Witchers.

He runs away less than a week later, wound still fresh, and ends up somewhere outside Oxenfurt. He decides to stay there, study there. The injury scars. He keeps it covered at all times with black cloth. Sometimes, it’s so tight it hurts. He never shows anyone his mark ever again.

–

Jaskier’s twenty-three when he meets Geralt, and he immediately recognizes the medallion. It’s the spitting image of what his soulmark looked like. He feels some residual anxiety from meeting a Witcher, but has learned humans can be just as monstrous as they claim Witchers to be. The black strip of cloth on his arm is proof enough.

So he takes a gamble and follows Geralt. And he continues to follow Geralt for years to come. He learns everything he was taught was a lie (something he’s suspected since the moment that knife touched his mark). He makes it his goal to change the world’s mind about Witchers. And if he hopes, deep down, that if he continues to follow Geralt he’ll meet his soulmate? Well, that’s his secret fantasy.

–

Years pass and eventually Geralt invites him up to Kaer Morhen for the winter. Jaskier says yes in a heartbeat. He’s as giddy as he is nervous and babbles the whole trip up.

When they get there, Eskel’s the one to greet them at the gate, not that Jaskier notices. He’s too busy still babbling nervously about nothing at all and removing his packs from his horse. He struggles to hold everything as he goes over to the two, intent on introducing himself to this new witcher. Except when he finally looks at Eskel, his breath catches and he drops everything he’s holding. He can do nothing but stare, pale and shaky, at the scarred face in front of him.

He doesn’t register how the man shifts so he stands with his scars less on display. He doesn’t register Geralt’s defensive and angry tone. He doesn’t register the third, angry, man who threatens him for making his brother uncomfortable in his own home. All Jaskier can think about is the shape of those scars.

Lambert’s outright hostile to him, not that Jaskier blames him. Geralt’s also cagey and defensive. Even Vesemir, despite keeping the peace between the wolves and the bard, makes his disappointment of Jaskier clear.

It takes another two weeks before Jaskier manages to catch Eskel alone and apologizes. He wants to explain himself, but every time he tries, his throat tightens and the words die on his lips. So instead, he works to befriend Eskel in earnest.

The first time Eskel smiles at him, really smiles at him (an entire month later), Jaskier feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. The way Eskel’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the way his lips curl awkwardly, the way his whole demeanor seems to light up. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. He can’t keep the dopey smile off his own face the whole day.

Eskel smiles more after that, and it seems to be enough for the others. Lambert’s no longer actively hostile and Geralt’s back to himself. Vesemir no longer looks at Jaskier with disappointment either. And if Jaskier scratches at the crook of his arm, that’s no ones business but his own.

Until, one night when Jaskier has long since stumbled off to bed, Lambert asks. It's just the three of them, Lambert, Geralt, and Eskel, still drinking in the kitchen.

“So what’s,” Lambert pauses to hiccup, “what’s with the bard’s arm?” He asks.

“Hmm?” Geralt grunts squinting at the cards in his hand.

“That damn bandage of his,” he continues motioning at the crook of his own elbow. “Wears it when he– when he fucken bathes too.”

“Maybe it’s covering a scar,” Eskel offers, “or a weird birthmark.”

Lambert scowls. “He’s got plenty other scars.”

Geralt snorts. “And weird birthmarks too,” he adds thinking about the vaguely cock shaped birthmark Jaskier has on his shoulder.

Lambert grumbles as Geralt and Eskel continue playing their game of gwent.

“What if it’s a soulmark?” He eventually asks.

“Humans don’t present them as easily as we do,” Eskel says at the same moment Geralt says:

“Not a chance.”

The two stare at him, clearly wanting an explanation.

Geralt grumbles and downs what’s left in his mug. “Jaskier’s a hopeless romantic,” he explains. “Wouldn’t shut up for weeks when he saw mine. And then he wouldn’t shut up for the better part of a godsdamned year after we finally met Yen,” he pours himself another drink and downs that too with a shudder. “Believe me, if he had one, we’d know.”

A few hours later, when Geralt’s fighting to stay awake, Lambert slams his mug on the table. It startles Eskel and Geralt enough that they’re more awake than they were an hour ago.

“I wanna know,” Lambert growls.

“Then ask him,” Eskel says.

Geralt yawns. “He always changes the subject.”

Lambert nods vigorously as Eskel frowns. “Then leave it.”

“But I wanna know!” Lambert complains.

Eskel gets up. “I’m not doing this,” he groans. “I’m going to bed.”

Lambert calls him a bitch as he leaves and grumbles into his drink. He and Geralt continue drinking for a few minutes before Lambert asks, “You grab him and I pull that damn cloth off?”

Geralt, too drunk and too tired to think about all the times Jaskier’s flinched when grabbed by the elbow, nods.

It surprisingly takes them a few days to catch Jaskier alone. He’s confused when Geralt grabs him but otherwise doesn’t struggle. It’s not until Lambert pulls at his sleeve that he panics.

Jaskier thrashes in their grip the moment he realizes what they’re doing. Decades old panic grips him as he screams and begs for them not to hurt him.

Lambert and Geralt stay frozen as Jaskier fleas down the hall. Vesemir is there demanding to know what happened while Eskel runs past them to catch up with Jaskier. Lambert and Geralt can only stare in the direction Jaskier fled, the stench of his fear hangs heavy in the air around them.

Geralt knows what Jaskier’s fear smells like. It’s hard not to when Jaskier often gets too close to a monster, but he has never smelled of fear because of a Witcher before. Not when he’d first seen Eskel. Not when Lambert threatened to gut him right after. And not even when the snow had finally blocked off the path down the mountain and he was subsequently trapped in the keep with four unwelcoming witchers.

They don’t see Jaskier for a solid week after that. They know he’s still in the keep, they can smell him in the kitchen, in the baths, through the halls, but they don’t actually see him. Lambert’s on edge, quicker to anger, and Geralt’s quieter, more prone to get lost in thought.

They both try to apologize, in their own way, standing outside Jaskier’s door. Jaskier doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even make a sound. The only reason they know he’s in there is because his heart’s racing and he smells of anxiety and residual panic.

Eventually Eskel’s able to coax him out and he tentatively resettles into the routine he’s established for himself. Jaskier now has a constant underlying scent of anxiety to him. He smells of panic whenever someone focuses on his arm too long.

It all comes to a head one evening. Vesemir reaches to touch Jaskier’s elbow to get his attention. Jaskier flinches so hard he nearly throws himself into the hearth they’re sitting around. He doesn’t smell of fear, but his panic is palpable. Vesemir apologizes but Jaskier assures him it’s fine, even as Lambert storms away shouting abuse and Geralt slinks away miserably.

Eskel cracks that night. It’s late, the others have all gone to their rooms in their attempts to avoid Jaskier, and it’s just Eskel and Jaskier in the library. Jaskier’s leaning against him, fighting to stay awake as Eskel simply enjoys his company.

“What…” Eskel asks tentatively. “Happened to your arm?”

Jaskier tenses against him, heart rate picking up as his hand goes to cover the spot. He sits up slowly, stiffly, and Eskel immediately kicks himself. “Sorry,” he says quickly, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

But Jaskier shakes his head. “No it’s okay,” he says weakly. “It’s stupid really. It happened so long ago, almost thirty years,” he laughs shakily, voice impossibly quiet. “But I guess I still get scared someone’s gonna finish carving off my soulmark at times.”

Eskel feels like he’s been punched in the throat. Soulmarks are special. They’re Destiny’s will. All Witchers have soulmarks. Something about the trials make them emerge, almost like Destiny herself is desperately trying to preserve their humanity. Eskel knows his own soulmark all too well. Four little yellow flowers floating down a stream painted on his ribs. At times, if he just focuses on the general shape, they look like music notes. He knows the mark ties him to Jaskier. It’s why Jaskier’s initial reaction to him hurt so much.

“I’m sorry,” Eskel says lamely, because what else can he say? He could demand the name of the people that hurt Jaskier, but that won’t repair the damage. He could go after Geralt and Lambert again for their stupid stunt, but they’re suffering enough as it is and Jaskier doesn’t really hold it against them.

Jaskier barely shakes his head. “Don’t be. I’ve… actually wanted to show it to you for some time,” he admits quietly. His hands shake as he rolls up his tunic sleeve.

Eskel catches his wrist, stills the movement. “Stop,” he breathes. “You don’t have to.”

Jaskier leans towards him, his forehead coming to rest against Eskel’s. “Please,” he whispers.

Eskel reluctantly lets go. He watches as Jaskier halting works the black cloth off. There’s red marks across Jaskier’s skin where the edge of the cloth dug in too tightly. But Eskel’s breath and attention is immediately stolen by the mark. He feels fury and an unimaginable sadness wash over him in equal measures.

It looks exactly like the wolf school medallion. Or it would were it not for the angry scars distorting the right side of its face.

Eskel runs a thumb over it before he even realizes what he’s doing. Jaskier shivers at the touch and Eskel can smell the tears the bard is desperately trying to hold back. “I’m sorry,” Jaskier whispers, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to upset you when I saw you. It’s just…”

“The scars,” Eskel murmurs. “They’re identical.” He has a sick feeling that Jaskier’s mark was defiled the same day his face was slashed.

Jaskier explains himself fully that night, as he cries in Eskel’s arms. It feels strange to finally show his mark again after almost thirty years. He’s not sure if he’s scared or relieved or if its even good or bad. It just is.

The following morning, he’s understandably exhausted and spends breakfast tucked against Eskel’s side. Lambert and Geralt get to the kitchen and try to leave before the even enter it. Jaskier reeks of tears and misery and Eskel. Eskel asks them to at least stay for breakfast. Lambert still wants to run but seeing as how Geralt pitifully sits down, he refuses to be the only one that runs and sits down too. Breakfast is awkward with how exhausted Jaskier looks and smells, they’re both happy to go off and do their chores for once.

Jaskier spends most of the morning sleeping in Eskel’s room. When he emerges for dinner, it’s almost like nothing’s happened. He’s back to his loud and carefree self. The smell of anxiety is almost unnoticeable now. Vesemir claps him on the shoulder and Geralt’s less quiet.

Lambert’s still unsettled, though, still easy to anger and prone to snapping. He doesn’t believe the bard’s act for a second. That level of fear can’t just be forgiven that easily. It has nothing to do with the fact that it was his plan that caused that reaction and made his brothers upset.

His brothers and Vesemir tell him the bard’s fine. Even Jaskier himself assures him that it’s okay. He doesn’t believe it for a second. No amount of chattering with Geralt, or helping Vesemir in the library, or spending nights with Eskel will convince him.

But maybe seeing how Jaskier lets Eskel settle a hand over his arm helps. Seeing how Jaskier smiles all shy and happy when it happens helps. Seeing how Eskel returns the looks helps. Seeing how Eskel doesn’t shy away when Jaskier touches his scars helps.

Maybe seeing and smelling how happy the two are helps ease the guilt. Because what else could be under that black cloth than a scarred over soulmark?

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 314: ...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

Previously on BnHA: Some random assholes were all “let’s throw exploding spears at All Might and see if it activates his Conqueror’s Haki” and SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS, IT DID!! Elsewhere, Lady Nagant confusingly tried to capture Deku alive by shooting him in the stomach, but to be fair I guess that’s what happens when you send an assassin to do a bounty hunter’s job, so yeah. Deku was all “ouch”, and then because this is a shounen he basically just straight up forgot about it, and did a big fancy Smokescreen thing, and then activated his mildly incomprehensible new ki-blasting quirk which he got from the Third. En and the Third were all “hey Deku maybe let’s not just impulsively activate all this shit in the heat of battle when you don’t know how to use it yet and you’re already injured,” and Deku was all “thanks for the quirks guys but I’ll take it from here” and snuck up on Nagant and grabbed her arm and so now what’s going to happen I wonder.

Today on BnHA: Nagant is all “[shoots Deku again]” because of course she is lol. Deku is all “tell me about AFO!” and Nagant is all “why would I tell you anything?” and then proceeds to tell him her entire life story which is FILLED WITH SO MUCH MURDER, YOU GUYS. Holy shit. So basically she was an assassin for the HPSC, which we already knew, but somehow it’s one thing to know that, and another to actually see her running around capping dudes in the forehead and being covered in more blood than the elevator from The Shining. Anyway, so you’ll never believe it, but all that murder had a negative impact on her psychologically, and eventually led her to question everything she believed about hero society, and so she killed her creepy boss and was promptly sent to Tartarus. This extremely fun chapter ends with Overhaul showing up all “HI, HELLO, I’M STILL HERE”, because for some reason he is still here. Why are you still here, Overhaul.

“the beautiful Lady Nagant” oh you know your audience don’t you Horikoshi

well all right then! so I’m guessing this means that she is not, in fact, going to roll over and die just because Deku’s out here all “GOT YA!” like they’re playing a game or tag or something. ffff may the manga gods have mercy on our young suicidal protagonist

lmao so Deku is all “GOD I’M SO SMART, WHAT A GOOD STRATEGY I HAD, CAPITOL JOB THERE OL’ CHAP, CAPITOL” and lol, okay. I mean, it was a good plan though. but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop here

“I’ll make you give me information on All for One” well there you go, lol. Deku Angst arc still fully engaged. still no light in his eyes either of course. just a lil chaotic ball of sleep deprivation and rage

lol, fucking THANK YOU though

oh my god what the hell did she do to him lol

did she shoot him with her elbow??? fucking look at this?? THIS IS WHY WE LISTEN TO HAWKS oh my god Deku are you dead

WHAT’S HAPPENING, IS THIS GOOD OR BAD, WHO’S WINNING

things that I wish I could tell from this panel which I unfortunately cannot tell

did she stab him or shoot him?? can you imagine if it was the former lol. why does Horikoshi keep stabbing all my kids. look Kacchan now the two of you can match

did she actually hit him or did he get away??

or did she hit him and then he jumped away?? just, what

well anyway, so now Deku is asking her why she sided with AFO, but he seems a lot more pissed off than when he was interrogating Muscular, though. probably because she shot him three times. fair enough

oh my god

does Lady have a blog here on tumblr dot com?? -- does Horikoshi have a blog here on tumblr motherfucking dot com?? why do I suddenly feel like this man is out here sneakily reading up on all our discourse

oh my god Deku it’s almost like getting up close and personal with someone who can shoot custom bullets from any distance and any position with deadly accuracy was a terrible fucking idea

IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD WARNED YOU NOT TO ENGAGE WITH HER AT ALL COSTS. IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD HAD THE FORESIGHT TO DO THAT sob. can you imagine how much shorter this series would be if characters actually listened to Hawks. Hawks, and Momo. why do we even let anyone else run the show ever

OH MY GOD

DEKU, RUN

OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

this looks a lot like what happens to me whenever I play One’s Justice. those fucking combo attacks that you can’t fucking escape from and so your character just has to stand there getting their ass whalloped repeatedly while you wonder why you paid $40 for this

but anyways though. so Lady who did you kill?? I bet they deserved it, don’t worry I forgive you

(ETA: ANYWAY SO FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT LADY NAGANT DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. aside from murdering all those innocent people and shit. but there were CIRCUMSTANCES, and THEY WERE EXTENUATING, OKAY.)

-- holy shit

looks like the HPSC arc is back on the menu boys

so are we about to learn that the HPSC was going full Hydra on people’s asses? secretly dispatching anyone they deemed a threat to society?? “taken care of” as in you fucking shot them??

so then was the “hero” she killed actually one of the guys who was giving or carrying out these orders?? holy shit Lady, up until now I’ve mainly just been stanning you for your flawless eyebrow game and metal af quirk, but this shit could actually get real very quickly, and I am prepared to genuinely and sincerely love the shit out of you depending on what we learn next about your backstory

oh my god?!?

so wait, hold up. am I reading this right?? basically the HPSC started murdering vigilantes because they were worried they were gaining too much of the public’s favor?? holy fucking shit???

oh my GOD oh my god

“it’s been a while since I scarred you all with the dead dog and the graphic slaughter of an entire innocent family, huh,” Horikoshi says thoughtfully. “anyway so what do you all think of my new creation, the Spaghetti Bullet.” well, Horikoshi, so you know that squished-up face that Kermit the Frog makes sometimes? yeah. that’s what I think, if you must know lol

holy hell the juxtaposition

I’m actually kind of surprised to learn she had a lot of fans? what with her M.O., I was expecting her to have been an underground hero like Aizawa, but apparently not? then again I still have absolutely no idea how any of that works. I really need to read Vigilantes already

oh snap

nothing like a sweet dose of assassin trauma to finally round out our BnHA Trauma Bingo!! well done guys, we finally collected all of the traumas! hooray!

noooo Ladyyyyyyy

holy shit what a fucking chapter. like, this man promised us an assassin, and went and fucking delivered. I was not expecting it to be this dark, lol, but holy shit I am here for it

you know, at some point you have to start questioning the logistics of this, though

I mean, how do I put this... her quirk isn’t exactly subtle. that murder scene from a few pages back looked like the first season of Dexter for fuck’s sake, that’s not exactly “disappearing” people now is it?? and I mean, her bullets are literally made from her own fucking hair; it seems like it would be impossible not to leave any evidence behind. did no one start to wonder who the fuck was going around murdering all these people? or did the people who asked too many questions wind up getting conveniently “disappeared” themselves??

and hey, speaking of asking too many questions

holy shit is he blackmailing her??!? or no, wait -- what the hell is he reaching for in his pocket boy you better not

(ETA: what exactly was this man expecting fdslkjd. “uh oh my unstoppable hair trigger assassin who is literally always armed is asking questions, better announce that I am going to shoot her and then reach into my pocket veeeeeery slowly while she stands there all of two feet away.” how did this guy ever function as the head of a shadow government with these decision-making skills, I’m genuinely baffled.)

OH MY GOD LADY YES

this. right here. is why “run the fuck away” was damn good solid fucking advice. oh shit. but my god did this dude have it coming

so wait lol has she just been narrating all of this out loud to Deku this entire time

okay but can we just stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that they’re having this deep conversation about the dark secrets of hero society right in the middle of their intense mid-air sniper free-for-all lol

holy shit you guys, Nagant’s the one that should have made the tell-all video. I mean, no offense to you, Dabi, I’m sure you worked very hard on your video and did a ton of crunches every day so that you would look good with your shirt off while you told the world all about how your dad was a jerk. but seriously...

this is already like 100x more convincing than what he put out. also, gasp, is it another flashback

yes it is oh my gosh

so the HPSC Chairladyperson whom ReDestro killed used to be this guy’s direct subordinate, huh? I wonder if she kept the whole assassin program going after she took over. can’t say I was feeling any particular kind of grieving way about her death before, but certainly not now lol

but unfortunately Nagant has finally lost me at the same place where all of the villains inevitably do, which is to say when they somehow make the dubious mental leap from “society sucks and is bad” to “let’s just be openly fucking evil lol, worth a shot.” because when heroes murder innocent people and cover it up, that’s obviously bad (and I mean, it absolutely fucking is lol, don’t get me wrong); but when villains murder innocent people straight up out in the open without giving a fuck, they’re righteous revolutionaries? just -- is there really no non-murdery middle ground here?? I guess that’s what Deku and co. are for, hopefully

anyways oh shit Deku seems to have spotted something?? and he’s doing something weird with Blackwhip what

oh, he spotted her, I guess

lmaooooo

new favorite Deku panel right here. a masterpiece

oh my god you guys our little boy is starting to grow up before our eyes

you love to see it. and you can tell with those elipses that he’s gearing up to say something really cool and determined and badass like the shounen protag he is, yes please, Deku ilu so much please do your thing

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

IS THAT A TEENY TINY LIL EYE SPARKLE THERE OMG. still not anywhere close to his usual standard, but that’s some clear resolve there in his eyes there at long last! it always shines the most clearly when he’s being true to himself and his ideals, so I love that it finally shows up again here, when he’s reaffirming his resolve to help others no matter what

uh oh so what’s Lady going to do now

is it time for a trump card?? kinda sounding like it’s time for a trump card

???

I lied btw, this is my new favorite Deku panel. but anyways what is she up to now lol

ohhhhhh, lol

why does she seem shocked, lol. here I thought this was part of her plan, but apparently she forgot all about ol’ “Look Ma, No Hands” back up there

and so I guess that’s it for this week! so we’ve learned basically everything now about Lady and her quirk and her history with the HPSC and why she agreed to work for AFO. pretty much the only question that still remains is why the hell she decided to drag this asshole along for the ride! because I still cannot figure that out dsklkjlkf

(ETA: actually now I’m kind of wondering if they maybe have some past connection we don’t know about yet. when exactly was Nagant sent to Tartarus? is it possible she was ordered to track down and kill Overhaul at some point before that, but never got around to it? or something else along those lines? idk but now I’m curious.)

anyways Deku, I know that your empathy has no bounds and that you’re on a “saving villains” kick right now, and good on you... but also, if you decide to just like, skip all of that shit just this once, absolutely no one will hold it against you, I’m just saying. just, all I’m asking here is maybe let’s think twice before we start trying to reform guys who imprison and torture little girls for profit. I think maybe that’s a good place to draw the line. next week is going to be a very interesting chapter lol

[xoluvx]

keep you warm; t.holland

Pairing: frat!boy tom x fem!reader Warning: smut Word Count: 1.9K

“Those were the rules,” Haz shrugged as you looked at the ping pong ball in the red solo cup. You were down to five cups. At this rate, the odds were against you; you would surely lose this match.

Tom watched as your eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to, mate.” He slightly tapped his friend’s chest trying to get him to move on. The gesture was sweet, but you weren’t going to bend the rules. You certainly didn’t need rescuing from Tom.

“It’s okay. He’s right, those were the rules.” You pulled the sweatshirt over your head. The oversized hoodie was shielding your body from crisp air. The only thing you were wearing under was your lacy bralette. It covered enough to leave the rest to the imagination. You were never really a fan of wearing shirts under your sweaters.

Haz chuckled, not paying attention to what was under the sweatshirt. He just wanted you to toss it to him. You did so with a playful eye roll.

Tom’s eyes were fixed on you. His eyes tracing the curves of your breasts up to your collarbones. Clearing his throat, feeling Haz bump his side, he grabbed the ping pong ball. His turn to go.

He missed.

Smirking, you tossed the ball at one of their cups. It landed in a cup at the center. Clapping triumphantly, you high-fived your partner before giving Haz and Tom a knowing look.

“Who’s going to strip?” You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, tilting your head waiting for them to decide. Haz grunted, defeated, taking off his belt. “Lame, but I’ll accept it.” You exclaimed. Your gaze shifted to Tom who was avoiding your eyes. You’d wanted his shirt to come off, but that was only more reason to win.

You were down to three cups. The boys were done to four. Tilting your head, you assessed where you were going to throw the ball. You’d be lucky to get any of the four. Taking the plunge, you tossed the ball with enough force that it landed in the cup furthest to the back. The ball swirled quickly into the cup before hitting the layer of beer at the bottom.

“Yes!” You cheered hugging your partner watching Tom carefully. Your eyes were playful, dancing with his as he blushed shaking his head.

“Your turn, mate.” Haz tapped Tom’s shoulder. With a shy smirk, Tom took of his t-shirt. His muscles compressed as he lowered his arms. Those big muscular arms, you could stare at them all day; you could trace every indentation of his body.

•

“Hey,” you heard a voice approaching you from behind. Turning your head, you saw Tom. He was still shirtless with a beer in his hand. His jeans were hanging low, you could see the band of his boxers. “Can I join you?” he asked motioning to your side.

Snapping out of your trance, you nodded tapping the spot next to you. Your legs were dangling over the edge of the pool. Your cup half empty, its contents now streaming through your blood system.

“Good game back there,” he stated taking a swig of his beer. He was looking at the water softly ripple in the pool. The fluorescent lights made it glow. He watched the way the smaller waves formed as you swung your legs back and forth in the pool. 

“I may have lost my sweatshirt, but I least I won the game.” You chuckled lifting your cup towards Tom who was now looking at you. He clanked his beer with your cup and the two of you took a sip before falling into a fit of laughter.

“This is a good look,” he complimented teasingly moving his hand to motion towards your current outfit: bralette and shorts.

“What can I say? I’m a fashion icon,” you played along standing up moving your arms out and twirling before turning back to face him. He looked up at you watching the water drip from your legs into a puddle at your feet.

Your shorts were short enough for him to see the indentation of your ass as you turned and he blushed when his eyes landed on your breasts; your nipples were hard through the lace.

Soon after you twirled you felt Tom’s hand wrap around your calf. His fingers softly caressing your skin as he looked up at you. Watching him, you couldn’t help, but giggle. His own lips curled into a smile as he stood leaving the beer on the concrete. His hand dragged up your leg, until they were resting on the tender part below your ass. His nose brushed against yours.

He had a weird power over you. No matter where you were, he always managed to make you lose your common sense. He made you forget about where you were, who you were with, and more importantly, that you’d been messing around for months and still hadn’t admitted how you felt. If he even felt anything.

Suddenly, your body started shaking. Feeling cold as the wind dropped in temperature and the alcohol was replaced with nerves. Your arms were shaky around his shoulders, lips brushing against his.

“I’m cold,” you whispered following with a shaky laugh.

“I’ll keep you warm,” Tom whispered in the voice that told you it was game over. You were going back up to his room and you knew what was going to happen. And you wanted it so bad.

His hands slowly made their way up to your ass, gently squeezing pulling you closer as you moaned against his lips; lips that soon connected with yours in a needy kiss. It didn’t matter that you were standing in his backyard and anyone could walk out at any second. You were trapped in his embrace and you savored the taste of his mouth on yours. One hand reached for the back of your neck as he pushed himself closer to you.

“Your room,” you hummed against his lips wrapping your arms tighter around him. The feeling of his bare skin on yours was driving you crazy. Tom groaned still kissing your lips. His body moving, pushing you away from the ruckus of the party.

“Better idea,” he smirked pulling away briefly looking towards the shed in the far corner of the backyard.

“You are not going to fuck me in a shed, Holland.” You warned pulling away as he tried going in for a kiss again. Cupping his chin, you forced him to focus on you. Your eyes serious. “It’s not happening.” You raised a brow as he rolled his eyes.

“I was going to show you another time, but just come with me.” He almost whispered like he was letting you in on a secret. Grabbing your hand, he lead you to the shed. Twisting the doorknob, he opened the pitch dark shed. You couldn’t see a thing until he flipped a switch. The small space lit up and you gasped a little. This wasn’t just any shed.

“What is this?” you smiled looking around. There was a futon and a couple of string lights, where the hell did Tom get string lights?

"Just something I’ve been working on. For when we want a little more privacy,” he added shrugging. He lived in a frat house, privacy was minimal. But more than anything, he’d done this with you in mind. He was giving you a part of him. In this.

You were going to fuck the shit out of him for this.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him as he pushed the door shut pressing your back against the door. Your hands buried themselves in his hair as you felt his hot skin sticking to yours. Your leg wrapped around his waist as he held it in one hand, fingers digging into your skin.

The want, the need was overpowering your senses and your mind had completed blurred in the heat of the moment. You wanted him, all of him, on that futon.

Your lips were sloppy against his, tongues mingling as he started moving your bodies towards the small futon. You were straddling him when he settled on the couch. Your lips tracing a path along his jaw until you were kissing his neck.

Brushing your tongue along his warm skin, you heard Tom groan. A shiver rippling through his body as his hands cupped your ass moving you against his body. His own hips thrusting upwards wanting to feel more.

One of his hands wrapped around the back of your neck pulling your face back to his, your lips colliding in a heated kiss.

You fumbled with his jeans trying to remove the pesky denim as he tugged on your shorts. The two of you blinded by lust and maybe a little more. Your shorts were off in no time and you soon ripped your lacey bralette off as Tom brought you back down to him.

Straddling him once again, he unwrapped the condom he’d pulled from his jeans as you held your weight waiting for his signal. When he gave you a small squeeze, you nodded kissing his lips once again. He held an arm around your waist as you slid on to his cock.

You were tingling inside. Your pussy wrapped around his cock gloriously and you had to dig your fingers into his shoulders to adjust yourself to the feeling. No matter how many times you had sex with Tom, it always felt like the first.

You felt Tom’s lips on your cheek as you dropped your head down near his neck. His hips were gently moving as you adjusted to his length.

But the tender moment was cut short when you started moving your hips. You swayed back and forth, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him with need. The kiss ignited the flame in your body again and with a little more force, you started bouncing.

One arm was wrapped around your body as one hand cupped your ass. He assisted you with each bounce as his breathing grew heavier. Your breathing matched his as your hips started swaying again. His cock was buried deep inside you; each time you swayed you felt yourself growing hotter and more tingly. 

Until you snapped.

Your body was convulsing, your lips parted against his uttering the faintest of moans and whimpers which was Tom savoring on his lips.

His hand slightly tapped your ass as he pushed his hips up joining your high soon after. Your head fell into the nook of his neck. You could hear his heart thumping as his cock twitched inside you.

You stayed in that position for a while. Relishing in the warmth of his body. The heat that was radiating from his heat still pressed on yours was comforting.

Tom shifted a little and you raised your head to look at him. His eyelids were heavy with bliss. His lips curving into a smile as a faint chuckle escaped his body. He brought his hand up to your forehead wiping the beads of sweat that had formed.

“Are you warm now?” he asked cheekily.

You felt yourself blush internally. Maybe it was just the warmth he was putting off or the fact that you were really falling for this guy. 

“Toasty,” you whispered pushing that thought aside.

Your lips connected tenderly as the soft lighting of the string lights witnessed the moment.

idea by @moonflowcrr