#and now it Should be find because we Should be handing over the deposit on wed

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Welcome to my Tuesday morning PSA about plastics!

So--I was walking along the Bolstadt beach approach sidewalk here in Long Beach, WA yesterday afternoon, and I started seeing these little orange pellets on the ground that looked a little bit like salmon roe (but probably weren't). So I picked one up, and it was most definitely rubber. I went around picking up every one I could find, and while I didn't keep exact count I probably amassed 50-60 of them. I took this picture before depositing them in the nearest trash can.

These are airsoft gun pellets, and you can buy them in big jars containing thousands of them. That means that someone who decided that the beach was a great place to shoot their airsoft guns could easily litter the place with countless little bits of plastic rubber in less than an hour. We already have a huge problem here with people leaving trash, including tiny bits of plastic, all over the beach (you should see the gigantic mess after 4th of July fireworks when thousands of people come in from out of town, blow things up, and then leave again without picking up after themselves.)

But these airsoft pellets have a particularly nasty side effect. You know how my first thought was "wow, those look kind of like salmon roe?" Well, we have a number of opportunistic omnivore birds like crows, ravens, and several species of gull that commonly scavenge on the beach, especially along the approaches because people often feed them there. If I can catch the resemblance of an orange airsoft pellet to a fish egg, then chances are there are wildlife that will assume they're edible.

Since birds don't chew their food, they probably won't notice that the taste or texture is wrong--it'll just go down the hatch. And since they can't digest the pellets, there's a good chance they might just build up in the bird's digestive system, especially if the bird eats a large number of them--say, fifty or sixty of them dropped on the ground along the same fifty foot stretch of sidewalk. The bird might die of starvation if there's not enough capacity for food in their stomach--or they might just die painfully of an impacted gut, and no way to get help for it. If the pellets end up washed into the ocean, you get the same issue with fish and other marine wildlife eating them, and then of course the pellets eventually breaking up into microplastic particles.

You can get biodegradable airsoft pellets; they appear to mainly be gray or white in color rather than bright screaming orange and green. But "biodegradable" doesn't mean "instantly dissolves the next time it rains." An Amazon listing for Aim Green biodegradable airsoft pellets advertise them as "Our biodegradable BBs are engineered to degrade only with long-term exposure to water and sun and will degrade 180 days after being used." That's half a year for them to be eaten by wildlife.

I don't know, y'all. That handful of carelessly dropped rubber pellets just encapsulates how much people don't factor in the rest of nature when making decisions, even on something that is purely for entertainment like an airsoft gun. We could have had a lot of the same technological advances we have today, but with much less environmental impact, if we had considered the long-term effects on both other people and other living beings, as well as our habitats. We could have found ways from the beginning to make these things in ways that benefited us but also mitigated any harm as much as possible. Instead we're now having to reverse-engineer things we've been using for decades, and sometimes--like the "biodegradable" airsoft pellets--they still have a significant negative impact.

But--at least there are people trying to do things better, thinking ahead instead of just on immediate profit. We're stuck in a heck of a mess here, figuratively and literally, and changing an entire system can't be done in a day. Maybe we can at least keep pushing for a cultural shift that emphasizes planning far into the future--if not the often-cited "seven generations ahead", then at least throughout the potential lifespan of a given product.

[solarmorrigan]

Deck the Halls - Spooky Scary Remix

For the @steddie-spooktober day 7 prompt: Skeleton Rated: G | Words: 682 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, modern AU, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a menace Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Those are skeletons.”

“They sure are.”

With an air of satisfaction, Eddie deposits the two life-size, plastic skeletons onto the couch, where they preside over the boxes of decorations sitting on the living room floor like a bony king and queen (or two kings. Or two queens. Steve guesses he can’t say for sure, since they’re skeletons).

“Eddie, it’s December,” Steve says.

“You know, your observational skills are one of the things I really love about you,” Eddie shoots back.

“Fuck off,” Steve snaps, with no real heat. “We’re supposed to be decorating for Christmas.”

“And so we shall!” Eddie claps his hands together. “Where should we start?”

“Let’s start with why there are skeletons on the couch,” Steve says, and Eddie tsks, like Steve is the one being weird.

“We’re going to decorate with them, obviously.”

“Skeletons are for Halloween, not Christmas.”

Eddie eyes Steve with that shrewd tilt to his mouth that never bodes well for Steve’s chances in an argument. “Says who?”

“Uh, everyone?”

“Oh, everyone. Is that all?” Eddie waves his hand dismissively. “You know, skeletons don’t stop existing just because it’s not October. In fact, I’ve got news for you, baby.” He steps closer to Steve, bringing his hands up to Steve’s hips and giving them a squeeze before leaning in to whisper, “there’s a skeleton inside of you right now.”

Steve scrunches his nose up in distaste. “Don’t say it like that,” he implores, and Eddie snickers.

“Too late, thought’s in your head now.” He leans in and pecks a kiss to Steve’s cheek before stepping away. “Besides, I have a plan to deal with the Christmas skeleton nay-sayers such as yourself!”

He goes to dig through the plastic shopping bags he’d come home from the store with, where Steve had only sent him to get another box of lights and some extra hooks for the gutters, not these new spooky-scary interlopers, who are still sitting on the couch, eyeing Steve with their empty sockets.

“Where did you even get these things, anyway?” Steve asks as Eddie digs.

“They were on sale, can you believe it?” Eddie says. “No one wanted the poor, bony bastards, so I brought ‘em home. Aha!”

From the depths of the rustling plastic Eddie unearths his treasure: two fur-trimmed Santa hats.

With what seems to Steve like a disproportionate amount of delight, Eddie sets about placing the hats onto the two bare, plastic skulls, tugging them around carefully and setting the pompoms at jaunty angles before he steps aside and gestures with a theatrical sweep of his arms.

“What d’you think?”

Steve blinks at two festive skeletons on the couch. What does he think?

He thinks that they only moved into this house a few months ago, and he doesn’t want anyone in the neighborhood to think they’re weird.

Which– okay, they are weird. Obviously. Everyone is going to find out. But Steve had been hoping that the idea could sort of bake in; that they’d have time to settle and become a part of the community before everyone figures it out, so they’d have a better chance of not getting frozen out. He’d had a plan.

But then again– Eddie is standing there grinning at Steve, so hopeful and pleased with himself, practically begging Steve to tag along with him on his weird little endeavor, and honestly? Steve would rather live as a socially ostracized hermit until the end of his days than make Eddie unhappy.

“I think you’d better find a good place outside to put them, and they’d better stay there, because if I wake up one morning and find out you moved one of those things outside our bedroom window, or somewhere inside the house, I’m divorcing you,” Steve says.

If anything, Eddie’s smile only grows. “I wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” he says, his tone implying that he absolutely would.

All the same, Steve allows himself to be smothered with grateful kisses, and braces himself to deal with “mysteriously” moving Christmas skeletons for the rest of the season.

The things he does for love.

[inkformyblood]

of use all shiny and new (SVSSS, MoShang)

Canon Compliant, Unreliable Narrator Shang Qinghua x Besotted Mobei-Jun

Really, Shang Qinghua should be used to the sudden arrival of his king. The portals had been so cool when he’d first thought of it, huddled underneath three blankets in yet another power outage as a storm raged outside when he’d wanted to be anywhere except there, but he’s suffering. 

Two lifetimes under his belt but he still feels like the skinny teenager he’s been twice over now,  burdened with the inherent shame of just existing. It’d be easy to just throw himself out of the window to make it all stop, he’s already shrieking, job half-complete. 

“Shang Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun says again in the space Shang Qinghua takes to breathe. “What are you doing?”

Shang Qinghua blinks up at the other man, all shimmering silk and fur-clad towering inch of him. Out of the corner of his eye, backed against the corner of his desk, the towering pile of budget forms sways in the breeze from Mobei-Jun’s portal, a few snowflakes drifting over the barrier and melting on the floor. They’d been a bitch to coax out of the few Bai Zhan disciples he could find and then again to get Liu Qingge’s approval as the Peak Lord tried to vanish on another month-long mission. He’s sick of it! The reports have been overdue for a month and if he has to sit through another meeting when Yue Qingyuan calmly inquires after the completion one more time, Shang Qinghua is going to lose his shit, System consequences be damned. 

“Nothing, my king. What can this humble servant do for you?”

He tries to clasp his hands in front of himself — safer that way when he can restrain himself from gesturing as he talks, a swing of his arms that would destroy any chance of getting the stack of reports completed — and adjusts to fold them behind his back as Mobei-Jun’s gaze dips to his scabbed knuckles, his jaw tight. Of course, signs of weakness should be avoided. Shang Qinghua laughs, too high, too sharp, shut up!

“We are travelling to the Lapin Kingdom.” Mobei-Jun’s scowl deepens, his lip curling to revealing the sharp edge of a fang, and Shang Qinghua knows he should love all of his creations equally but self-indulgence had been the only luxury he could afford along with his shoebox of an apartment and the spiders settling in for the long haul in his fridge. “This king wishes to hear any intel you have gathered.”

“Ah? Of course, my king. If this humble servant had some time to prepare, I would have had it ready for you, but this servant will provide.” It had been, after all, some of his best work, twenty thousand words for a subscriber special. He’d teased it for weeks beforehand, dropping random polls into his comments to disguise the actual information he needed, and that had been enough to boost his subscriber account to the next milestone before he had even finished writing it. He’d been able to spring for the good ramen off the back of it as well, so suck it Cucumber-bro and his nine paragraph rant about the sheer impossibility of having a semi-tropical climate so close to an ice desert. He’d had to research the effect of wind on climate to make sure it was right.

Mobei-Jun turns away and sits on Shang Qinghua’s bed, his legs splaying wide as he reclines back, sitting on a throne of his own glorious creation instead of stale rumpled sheets. He inclines his head, his dark eyes narrowing. 

“The Lapin Kingdom have long been allies of the Northern Desert and are key trading partners for spices and their gold deposits due to their warmer climate. Because of this, ah, there’s a few cultural differences my king should be aware of.” Shang Qinghua moves away from his desk, shaking his hands as he begins to pace in a wandering circle. His boots crunch against the snowflakes piling up in front of the portal before it vanishes as he strays closer, Mobei-Jun huffing out a quiet sound. “Apologies my king. The people tend to wear limited layers, mostly treated skins and golden jewellery, and they expect visitors to dress in an equivalent fashion.”

The result of another poll applied, again, suck it Cucumber-bro, his writing is a pristine example of democracy manifest. 

“This servant can supply us both with robes that will suit, I’ll just need some time, Li Bo owes me a favour from the mess he made with that pack of Greater Horned Sloths and then Zhang Fei for a gift?”

“No need.”

Shang Qinghua stumbles to a stop, his fingers caught on the rough edge of his knuckle, his tongue between his teeth. “My king?”

Mobei-Jun stands and Shang Qinghua is grateful for the high ceilings he insisted on as the other man regards him, his face blank. “This servant is still of use to this king. You will wear this.”

Shang Qinghua flinches as a loose bundle is thrown at his head, his hands flying up to grab it. It is lighter than he would have expected given the usual heft of his king’s cloak on the rare occasion that it is dropped over his head. He shakes out a cloak, dark blue to match Mobei-Jun’s colours with a deep hood and a veil to cover his face. He looks up into Mobei-Jun’s chest, the other man suddenly closer, then his face. “My king?”

“You will come with me.” Mobei-Jun folds his arms and Shang Qinghua’s gaze drops to follow the motion. Fuck, he did such a good job writing him. “Choose.”

There’s two clasps attached to the edge of the cloak, one gold, one silver. There’s a flicker of a thought about the cultural benefit of wearing the gold, but Shang Qinghua tugs it free, holding it out to Mobei-Jun.

“This servant will wear his king’s colours.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(Can I take 👁️ anon? That way I can just preface with that emoji whenever I'm sending something here)

Anyway, for the Trein event: Ruggie trying to ask Lucius about the answers to an upcoming exam?

👁️ Anon is all yours!

A Storied Past.

Trein frowned upon sneaking, among many other things. “To sneak is to hunch over and creep around in unsavory locales. It’s simply distasteful,” he’d declare with a dismissive huff. “You are young gentlemen and esteemed students of Night Raven College, not riffraff. Your posture and behavior should reflect that.”

Well, Ruggie thought as he squatted low to the ground, it’s not a problem if you don’t get caught, right?

The hyena chanced a glance from behind the desk he hid behind, surveying the teacher’s lounge. The adults had vacated to take lunch in the cafeteria, granting him a 30 minute window of opportunity to do that which Trein so loathed: sneaking. Ruggie had already picked the lock to the door and rifled through the papers kept in the drawers—other actions Trein would find reprehensible—but to no avail. The man’s answer key was nowhere to be found.

He was so screwed on that next unit exam. I’d have the time to study for it if Leona-san weren’t runnin’ me ragged just before the test…!

Ruggie’s gaze fell on the black and white lump gathered in one corner. It stared back at him with unblinking, feline eyes. The fearsome beast that guarded the teacher’s lounge.

“Mrrrow.”

“If it isn’t my good ol’ buddy, Lucius-kun~” Ruggie broke out into a mischievous smile. This, he could work with.

He made no effort to conceal his presence or to provide an excuse—even caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Ruggie instead casually approached while lying on his belly, both hands balled into paws. His words were traded for meows that easily rolled off of his tongue.

(“How’s it goin’? Don’t mind me, I’m just sniffin’ around for a tasty morsel. You won’t squeal on me to ol’ Trein, wouldja?”)

Lucius yawned, either unsurprised or disinterested. (“Depends. What are you willing to do for me this time?”)

“Tch. Always gotta be a dealmaker, huh? You’d give Azul a real run for his money,” Ruggie grumbled to himself. Fixing his grimace into a grin, he shook a paw at the cat. (“I’ve got a nice can of fancy tuna with your name on it!”)

Lucius sniffed. (“Just the one?”)

(“What, you want more? I know you love the stuff, but if you have too much at once then Trein might start getting suspicious about how full you are.”) Ruggie made a face. (“I’ll give you one can of fancy tuna and a some catnip to chew on afterwards. How about it?”)

(“Two cans or nothing.”)

(“Two cans,”) Ruggie shot back, (“one now, second one a week from now. We don’t want to risk being caught.”)

Lucius inclined his head, considering. (“… Alright, I accept.”)

(“Sweet, thanks.”) A pause. (“By the way, you wouldn’t happen to know where Trein’s keeping the answer key for the next exam?”)

Lucius rose from his spot and scampered over to the bookshelf along one wall. Getting up on his hind legs, he tapped on the spine of a thick binder marked GAINS!!

(“Isn’t that Coach Vargas’s stuff?”)

(“You'd think so, wouldn't you?")

Lucius pulled the binder free. It fell to the floor and opened, revealing weekly schedules, exercises, and protein (and egg)-rich meal plans. Ruggie cocked a brow expectantly. Lucius rolled his eyes and tugged out a loose piece of paper free with his teeth. He deposited it before Ruggie.

Several bubbles littered the page, a single dark circle in each row.

The answer key.

("He suspected cheating on the last exam because of the higher than usual grade average, so extra precautions were taken to hide this one. Vargas collaborated with him.")

("Whoo-hoo! Way to go, Lucius-kun! You're the CAT!") Ruggie cheered, snatching the sheet up. His eyes greedily ran across it, committing each answer to memory. ("Always a pleasure doin' business with ya!")

("Yes, yes. Now then, about that first can of fancy tuna...")

[honeyydrunk]

reasons for some of the jjk men on why i would and wouldn't fuck them. i think now would be a good time to mention that uh i'm not going to be saying no to anyone. gege akutami knew what would sell.

starting off strong with GOJO SATORU daddy's home home for me i know i've been waiting no lube no protection all night all day any position any location any time no matter what he asks even if it hurts me i'll just endlessly over and over again go towards you.

now WHY would i climb the beanstalk? let's go through the reasons. - he's hot i remember the teacher giving him her number - he's tall bro was planned to be made into a coathanger bc of those japanese genetics defying legs. and you know if he's tall then proportionately..... - he's fast in 299 seconds gojo satoru had slaughtered a train's worth of transfigured humans - his voice "you cryin?" "this is where you're weak right?" it doesn't matter i watched jjk in sub, i went onto youtube and listened to the uploaded audios of the dub

but why i'm not fucking that man until failure 😔 ?! - i'm not geto suguru. i may be delusional but i'm not blind. even kenjaku wasn't able to sway him, and he WAS suguru. - he's too whimsical for my liking. bro would answer a call while midstroke, teleport out, then return like 30 minutes later with souvenirs and go "yeah let's continue!!"

🎀 nanami kento 🎀 to me it's not just sex. i wish to marry someone like him. i'm ridiculously close to manifesting 'a husband like nanami kento'. as someone who let's just say is situated in the finance sector, no one wants that man more than me. it's embarrassing how nanami is like a living cheat code to everything i've ever wanted.

oh for to be a lawyer representing his office firm, occasionally coming in every few months and parading in mini skirts and high heels. acting as if we're only acquaintances during the meeting. and after the deposition we end up in the backseat of his car during his lunch break. seriously hoping no one from the office comes down and decides to check why his car is 'moving' like that. 🎀 why i'm going to give him 'marry me head' 🎀 (this is going to be a long list)

- he's a tall guy in finance. - he's blonde but in a hot way - his technique is finding someone's weak spots. - he's absolutely built - he takes things seriously. bro would take you throughly. - i have a thing for successful men - he pulls hair - he kills curses effortlessly - he's very good at being relaxed while in a fight - island holiday sex - that office attire with the suit does things - when he takes off the tie and wraps it around his hand, he should be wrapping it around my wrists. - he likes bread? i can give him cake - oh his job must be so stressful isn't it such a good thing i'm really good at massages - stability in this economy is like the hottest thing istfg - i've never seen a not HAWT nanami cosplayer (no one try and prove me wrong) - when he's mad it's crazy hot

why i'm sadly not riding that man until he places a ring on my finger in the malaysian sunset? - he wouldn't want a relationship. not because he doesn't desire one, but due to the demanding nature jujutsu sorcery, not only would that drain him out too much to care, but also because he wouldn't want to put his partner through the mental challenges of not knowing whether he'd return alive or death. and the mental challenges it would give his partner if he died. - i'm not 27. he gives me the horrific (for me) vibes that he'd only consider a relationship with someone who he's the same age as. - my japanese skills are really bad that makes communication in a relationship a problem.

🙈 geto suguru 🙈 hes beautiful, getting slightly too close to my type for comfort, but whether i could ignore my grievances with his lifestyle choices is yet to be debated. i have a lot of grievances with that why i would beg him to consider a one night stand w this monkey?!: - tall hot built how many times am i going to have to say tall hot built throughout this post. we KNOW the jjk men are fine. for sex the standard really is just if they're hot. - his hair his soft long black flowing princess hair everyday i thank twice and loona stans for existing. your lesbianism has stolen the scissors away from the hands of men. thank you for your service..

- he's so soft when treating people he likes i like people being nice to me

- i hate the clothes he wears as a cult leader are you pregnant with all those curses you're swallowing? like the way kenjaku definitely didn't swallow. because that outfit looks like villain maternity wear. the only upside is that it makes me even more motivated to get that man OUT of his clothes.

- something about his gentleman type personality with his either cult leader flair or his extreme dedication has me going crazy delusional as with nanami i am weak to men that have corporate expertise. it should scare me the way i cave. like okay i'll bleach my hair white and get blue contacts if that's what it takes to have you. please charm me and make me delusional

- he's hot while killing people aside from financially successful gentlemen, unfortunately i have the horrific ailment of snapping the minute i see a crazy guy with blood on his face that kills people with ease. and that one scene where he DECIMATED that guy and wiped the blood of his cheek ruined me

why i'm staying far FAR FAR FAR away - i may relate to gojo satoru but i'm not him bro isn't touching me. i'm not his blue eyed the strongest bc i'm gojo because i'm the strongest coat hanger overconfident sweet lover hates moral arguments high school bittersweet situationship.

- i actually HATE his moral argument due to the balance of equilibrium and market forces whatever, if jujutsu sorcerers were meant to be the prevailing thingy then they would be so. i could go into more detail but let's just say i couldn't be gojo because how could i be so selfless to let the situationship of my life go to chase a dream he'll never achieve for an argument that's wrong because he feels it to be more important than me. - he's got the megumi potential man effect "worst curse user" R U SRS? be fr. i know he handed tokyo student's asses back to them but i think he's just a heartbroken guy who's a little bad and has a goal or whatever. bro is NOT the worst curse user. - can't figure out if i would mind lobotomied geto or not. but he would definitely be freakier after those backshots he took. - his mouth probably tastes like a rag used to clean shit and vomit - to my knowledge i am not a jujutsu sorcerer

choso !! choso !! choso !! why i would?! OFC I WOULD

- this again at some point saying tall hot and built starts to get too repetitive. but when he pulled his clothing to the side during that fight with yuuji, i was staring for TOO LONG. - i think his blackhead pore strip is cute. - his personality is ridiculously cute. obviously this may sound odd but i think we can gather i'm rather odd. in MY opinion, it's cute. like idk his sincerity in his choices is very cute. - i know i could make him blush so easily.

why i wouldn't.... (unfortunately) - i'm not his brother if there's one thing i know about that man is that he is dedicated to his brothers. he will not hear anything i have to say and simply ignore me for i am not his brother i am a random person. - i don't want to carry on kenjaku's bloodline - family reunions w that man would be ridiculous - the cursed womb paintings 1-3 is a concept i don't wish to partake in

fushiguro toji he's a real one. didn't like his family so he finds himself a cute wife. he's absolutely goated w those skills. his choices with child raising leave me seriously concerned with what might happen after our sexual activities. i mean the minute he realises who megumi was after he resurrected he just went and killed himself. CRAZY. but yeah i'd fuck him - he's built - he's built - he had to make megumi somehow - bros got grey sweatpants and a compression shirt - he has that heavenly pact for physical prowess he should USE IT - lowkey like how the scar looks - he wants to hit core this is one way to do it - he's built - i can tell he would be good in bed call it a 7th sense

why i wouldn't: - he'd steal everything i own while i'm asleep - id have to pay him to fuck me - i am not his original wife, he's not going to want me. - i don't want those crazy zenin clan freaks knowing who i am - do i want him to traumatise my kid when hes revived again? - i don't like gambling addictions

sukuna ryomen.....

would...... - 4 arms - 2 dicks - doesn't he have a tongue on his stomach? - built - king of curses he can be the king of this pussy - i wanna ride him so bad while he sits on that throne of his - ngl whatever that white kimono he wears is hot - his voice - he's lowkey funny - he's hot i'm not even going to bother denying

why i wouldn't: - i'm not megumi - bro would kill me before i ask him if i can suck him off - why would he agree? - if i survived i feel i would be severely looked down upon for this choice of mine

mahito.... (hella ashamed for this not even lying) would: - he's built - he can change his body to anything wouldn't: - he'd kill me and he's not like nanami where death would be worth it for him

@saradika TSYM !! i googled and found the free spacers

next "why i wouldn't and wouldn't" will be the neos the nct boys (however long that takes with HOW MANY? members?)

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 37 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

You linger a little longer in the bathroom than John after your bath, performing those obligatory feminine tasks. Hair. Moisturizer. Nails... You are extra attentive to these things here, where personal appearance seems absolutely paramount. 

When you walk out to join him, wrapped up in your fluffy white hotel robe, you find him sitting in one of the chairs with his back to you, looking out the window at the city below. Cars flit past, people mill on the sidewalks. Manhattan never truly sleeps.

You lean your hip against his shoulder; automatically he reaches for you, his fingertips sliding up your thigh beneath the robe, making you shudder with the sweet thrill of his light touch tickling your skin. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring it. It takes you a while to notice he’s holding a little black box, turning it in his other hand. 

You’re not sure why the sight of it makes your heart sprint in your chest. 

“When the Camorra come…” He pauses with a long, tired sigh. “I want you to wear this.” 

He flips open the box with his thumb, extending it towards you without really looking at you. 

The object inside is bright and shiny, sparking blue fire in the low light. 

Your heart steps to the edge of a precipice and flings itself into a swan dive–you don’t know if rocks or water await below.

“Is that…an engagement ring?”

It’s a deco white gold setting adorned with a substantial–but not obscene diamond. You realize the filigree shapes are leaves and flowers–something that would become a nature girl like yourself. 

“Technically.” 

He doesn’t sound…happy. 

“In our world wives have standing; girlfriends are just fodder. I want them to know I’m serious about your safety.” 

His meaning dawns on you–and suddenly you’re not terribly happy either. 

“You want to get fake engaged?” 

“I won’t pressure you into something more than that right now, y/n. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” 

You realize the source of your own annoyance is that for a fleeting moment you’d thought it was real–and goddamn you for a fool, maybe he finally has truly fucked your brains out, but you know you would have said yes. 

“Where…did you get this?” you ask, looking at the little ring with all its grandiose meaning. It suits you to a T. He’d put thought into this…and it feels off. 

He’s quiet for a long time, before he finally admits, “In the antique shop, in Clear Forks. It made me think of you.”

You close your eyes at hearing this, suddenly dizzy. “When?” you ask, barely able to lift your voice over a whisper.

“You know when,” he answers, matching your volume. 

You think he maybe means in the interim when he’d locked you up like a princess in the tower, after your magnificent fight. Little did you know, that things had yet to really go to hell. “Were you…going to ask me for real?” You’re not sure why your eyes are suddenly stinging with tears. 

“I’m good with vows, y/n. Absolutes. The rest…has always been hard for me. I thought…that I was never a better man, than when I was a husband. I thought that was the man you deserved–the man I’d forgotten how to be. I thought I could find him again, if we…” He cuts himself short, squeezing the little box in his hand. You hear it creak in protest. “But now I see how selfish that idea was.”   

Maybe you should be relieved, that he decided against trying to bully you into a legally binding union with him–but as it stands now…it hurts, that he changed his mind. What a conundrum you find yourselves in. How things have changed, since he locked you up that day.

“Oh.” 

There must be something in your voice, because he finally looks up at you. “Honey…please don’t be sad.”

“I’m…I don’t know what I am,” you admit, making to go to the other chair. But he grabs you up before you can run away, depositing you across his lap. 

“I’ve hurt your feelings.” 

“Maybe?” 

You’re relieved that he’s arrived in this state of mind. You really are. It’s just…complicated.

If he had sprung this on you after you’d been isolated in the bedroom for days on end, pining for him, certain you’d ruined everything… Oh. What a coup indeed. You might have agreed then too, but certainly not for the same reasons.

Or were they?

Can you trust your own judgment when it comes to this man at all?

“I’m just…trying to protect you.” 

In that moment you’re not sure if he means from the Camorra, or himself.

“I get that.”

“Then…?”

“I don’t know…” you sigh, snuggling under his chin, and you’re not lying about that. You’re tired, too tired to process this right now. “Will you hold me?”

He says nothing, just wraps his arms more snugly around you, and you watch the nighttime goings-on of New York out the window from the safety of your crow’s nest, together.

***

“What a lovely ring,” says Winston, seating himself beside you on the roof, Dog at your feet. You’ve taken to wearing it early so everyone can get the appropriate eyeful–apparently assassins are terrible gossips in their off time. And maybe Winston notices it, because you’re glaring at the damn thing like it owes you money. 

You just can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe it’s not such a big deal to John, because he’s been married before…but this is all new to you. You’re not the kind of girl who’s ever gotten caught up in worrying about marriage, or weddings, but this has unexpectedly hit you in a tender place. 

The decidedly tinny voice of reason inside you assures you that it would be bat fuck crazy to marry John Wick, after everything he put you through. But your heart? The heart wants what the heart wants, and that bitch is loud.

Maybe the trauma of all these extreme circumstances has simply fried your brain, made you want to cling to the man who seems like a safe shelter right now. 

But it occurs to you on reflection that maybe, John’s obsessive brand of love is what you’ve wanted all along. To be the object of his devotion, even to the point of madness–it ticks some primeval box deep inside your brain, and you wonder if a part of you somehow knew all along. You like it. You thrive on it. When you love someone you give them everything. Why should you settle for anything less on the other side, the way you always have, your whole goddamned life?

When your parents split and started new families it felt like they abandoned you. You went from being their perfect little darling to a mistaken product of a previous marriage.  Your mother would insist with an oblivious laugh that you seemed so self-sufficient she didn’t feel like she needed to take care of you anymore. That wasn’t how it felt to you, while your little world crumbled around you, and you know deep down your need to be liked by everyone is undoubtedly tied up in this somehow.  

Your need to be loved by John? For better or worse…it’s the air you breathe. How sad, how paltry a nice normal love would seem, after this. Maybe that’s not healthy–but it’s your truth. 

No other man will ever do for you, after this.  

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

“Are congratulations in order?”

“Sure.” 

You’re not sure if Winston is in on the ruse or not–it’s funny, in this world in which you’ve been told to trust no one, you find it hard to lie to this elegant old man. Maybe you have daddy issues too.

“I see our Jonathan’s tendency to monosyllabic conversation has rubbed off on you.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, sitting up in your seat, trying not to appear like a sulky teenager, sure you’re failing utterly. “It’s just complicated. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about the sculpted figures in the molding in the lobby, they’re very interesting.” 

Always keen to chat about his design choices in his beloved hotel, he proceeds to tell you all about it.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: So I had to post this chapter in 2 parts because of how long it was and the formatting was weird otherwise. So here we are, and 2 part chapter! But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

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Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 pt. 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 2

Charlie eventually left after a few hours of convincing Sam and Dean that I would be absolutely fine infiltrating the club without them. At least at first. Some negotiations took place and after a while we all came to an agreement - I’d go in, scope the place out and unlock every door before leaving and letting the boys take over, handing over the intel on who everyone was and where they were stationed. This would make the kills less messy and reduce civilian casualties. Once this decision was made, we ate dinner before the guys went back upstairs to get as much information on the strip club as possible, whilst I went to finish the laundry from earlier.

I’d dropped Sam’s clothes off in his room before I headed Deans room to deposit his. Upon arriving, I twisted the handle and let myself in, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him before placing the neat stacks of clothing on his bed. Patting the top on the piles to ensure they wouldn’t topple over, I was turning to leave when something caught my eye. It was a pile of napkins and receipts crumpled up and tossed in the bin by the door - the same ones that made me feel so deflated earlier today. I smiled, feeling some semblance of relief course through me as I made my way upstairs again. As I walked I pondered; the Winchesters unknowing of the fact that I’d spent a short amount of time taking exotic dance classes. My ex boyfriend had paid for them so I could give him a ‘private show’ in cheap lingerie, and not to toot my own horn but I was pretty good at what I did back then so this should be a breeze. The only thing was that now I had a point to prove, and boy was I going to prove it.

I strode into the room where the boys were - Deans head in his hands and Sam’s face pressed to the inside of a book that was open on the table. He could have been asleep, if it wasn't for the fact that his eyes opened when I walked in. Without saying a word I grabbed an empty chair and set it in the middle of the room away from the desks and bookcases, making both men flinch at the abruptness.

“What are you doing?” Dean quizzed, lifting his head from his hands.

“Proving to you that I’m perfect for this case.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and I was unsure if he was catching on. I grabbed his phone from the table, unlocking it and finding the perfect song to play, settling on ‘Apocalyptic’ by Halestorm. At the start of the music he seemed to realise what was going on and he sat up eagerly, watching me intently as I undid my hair from its ponytail. I ruffled it up close to the roots, putting some volume in there as he went to stand up. I placed my fingertips on his chest and pushed gently, making him sit back down in his chair. I shook my head.

“Not you.”

He looked at me, puzzled; however his jaw dropped when I took Sam’s hand and urged him to stand. Sam had been paying minimal attention and just about knew what was going on when I gently pushed on his toned stomach, moving him backwards towards the chair in the middle of the room. I felt my heart do a small flip at the sheer size of the younger Winchester, this being my first time standing so close to him. And he smelt softer than Dean - less leather and gunpowder and more mint and fresh linens. I looked up at Sam through my lashes, watching his chest rise and fall more rapidly than before as he scanned my face. I smiled.

“Just relax, Sam. I Promise I don’t bite - at least not unless you want me to,” as the words left my lips I heard a SNAP and looked over at Dean, who’d now crushed the pencil he was using into splinters. I couldn’t help but smirk, starting to enjoy this perhaps a little more than I should. I pushed on Sam’s hips, urging him to sit, now in perfect view of his older brother. I stood in between Sam’s thighs and looked down at him, watching how his big eyes followed my hands as I slid them down over his shoulders and chest before running them back up again, tracing a single finger up over his Adam’s apple and tilting his chin up to look at me. The moment his eyes met mine his lips parted slightly and I leaned in close, so close that I could almost taste him. He let out the quietest groan and I whispered over his lips:

“I’ll try to make this enjoyable.”

I was bending over slightly, feeling my already very short skirt ride up. I sashayed around Sam, swaying my hips to the music and trailing my hands over his body with feather-light touches. Every time I did I felt him tense up or let out a small noise, especially when I crouched down behind the chair and slid myself underneath it, appearing between his legs and pushing myself up, my own legs straight and spread wide as I leant forwards. I now faced Dean, making eye contact with him as he watched me slide my hands up Sam’s thighs as I perched myself in his lap, swaying my hips as I pressed into him. I heard him suck in a breath at the contact, his manhood twitching in his jeans beneath the softness of my ass. I brought my knees and ankles together in a ladylike fashion before spreading them wide again, my legs pressing hard into the inside of Sam’s thighs. Deans knuckles went white as I ran my hands over my body and through my hair, biting my bottom lip sensually. Feeling Sam’s hands graze my knees, they slowly started to trail up my thighs as he snuck touches in where he could. My heart fluttered in my chest - his hands were already treating me far more gently than Deans did. I let him touch me for a few moments before I smacked his hands away and stood up. Spinning to face him I flipped my hair back, and slowly - oh so slowly - traced my hands down my own figure. As I outlined every curve I lowered myself so I was kneeling right before him - right between his legs that were spread wide like my own as my bare knees rested on the cold floor. I ghosted my hands up the inside of his thighs as he let out a shaky breath. I smiled up at him, but it seemed he was past the niceties as I noticed how dark his eyes had gone. I drew my hands back and spun around so I was now facing Dean whilst still nestled between Sam’s thighs. The older brother had pulled his chair out for a better view as his elbows rested on his knees as his large palms came together - as though in prayer - in front of his plump, kissable lips. He stared at me, unmoving and barely blinking, as though he were in a trance. Still on my knees, I threw Dean a coy grin before I placed my hands on the floor and walked them forwards, my ass now completely on show to Sam as my denim skirt did nothing to keep me covered. My back dipped in a feline manner as my chest came into contact with the floor, and I couldn’t help but think to myself that I would put money down that Dean loves this position for rough, pleasure-seeking sex. I hummed to myself at the thought of him fucking me into his mattress like this; one large, rough hand on my hip and the other propping himself up over me as he would moan my name and I would lose myself in his bedsheets.

I tore myself away from my daydream by sliding my hands forward so I was laying on my front before rolling onto my back, tilting my head back so I was looking at Dean upside down, my hair pooling around me. I gnawed on my bottom lip again as I planted both feet on the floor so my knees were bent and touching, before lifting one leg as gracefully as I could into the air and pointing my toes. Reaching my arms up, I gently touched my ankle and trailed my fingers over my leg, up my thigh - catching on my skirt and lifting it higher - along the soft skin of my exposed torso and over my breasts. I then dragged my fingers through my hair and over my scalp, my outstretched arms lifting my tank top a little - flashing Sam some braless underboob. I heard him moan and shuffle in his chair, however my eyes were still locked with Deans, and I watched as the older brother leant back and spread his legs a little wider, adjusting himself in his jeans as he laced his fingers together over his abdomen. Without missing a beat, I flipped myself back over onto my stomach and played the previous motions in reverse - sliding upwards so I was on all fours and then back to being just on my knees. I turned so I was facing Sam again, grinning at his hooded eyes and slack jaw as I placed my hands on his knees and pushed myself up to standing. I stepped around him slowly, my hands running down his broad shoulders as I moved to stand behind him. I leant down and whispered into his ear, his head dipping to the side slightly as my breath fanned out over his hot skin:

“Admit it, I’m perfect for the case.”

I watched his eyes flutter closed as he replied in a breathy voice.

“Yes… you’re perfect…” he paused, like he’d forgotten to finish his sentence, “…perfect for the case, I mean.”

I smiled as I stood up straight, catching Deans piercing gaze again.

“I’m going to bed - it’s been a long day. You boys should too,” my voice came out perhaps a little more sultry than I expected.

They both nodded, humming in response as I turned away, walking to my bedroom and leaving behind me at least one testosterone-field time bomb.

I’ll probably regret that whole ordeal in the morning

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Up Next:

Chapter 9

[mangocurist]

GO MY BACKROOM WATOFIES.... literally the only undoomed watofies universe and theyre literally in the fucking Backrooms. what the hell is this irony

also hi connie !!!! heres ur backrooms watofies @pineconnie ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ⑅ ა

ೃ ✿𓈒ॱ⬭ᩙ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚.ೃ࿔*:⬭ᩙ °❀･˚₊‧ೃ ✿𓈒ॱ⬭ᩙ °꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚.ೃ

If Wato had known that the search for a missing scientist in the Backrooms Complex would lead to her having to run through endless hallways of yellow wallpaper that smelled slightly of cyanide and stained the edges of her dress pants with a mysterious sheen of dust every time she trudged forward, all with a long-limbed shadow monster chasing her down like it was its life's goal to tear her apart, she would have thought twice about her decision to help McSwee. 

Her only saving grace in this mass, endless complex of twining rooms and empty, empty halls, was, as usual, Wifies. 

He’d been sticking to her side since the moment they’d entered the elevator chamber and been sent plummeting down through the floor— it was a habit that he’d picked up some time after Wato had returned from the End Barrens, catatonic and just barely holding it together at the sight of him. Back in those first few months post-End Barrens, Wato had latched onto him (and Ken, but Ken wasn’t here right now— and honestly, what a shame, because they could definitely break all three of them out) at any given opportunity. 

She had managed to outgrow that phase, mostly, but Wifies still stuck close by, just in case she ever felt like she needed his support.

Now, looping around one of the parking lot pillars for the third time, Wato couldn’t help but feel that immense gratefulness she’d felt during those hundred days for her beacon of hope rushing right back to her as she watched him cheer, opening a chest. 

“I found a tape,” Wifies waved it at her, beaming giddily as he jogged back over to her. Wato had seen him make this expression dozens of times before, sure, but every time it happens she only feels more endeared. “My first contribution to the team!” 

“One step closer to leaving,” Wato agreed readily, linking their arms together as Wifies deposited the tape into his bag. She was just barely able to stop herself from saying you’ve done enough already, just being here is enough, because it was true. They did need to get out. But Wifies could have been doing nothing at all, and Wato would still appreciate every second he stuck to her, the warmth of his hand in her own tethering her to the ground they stood on.

“Should we make our way back to the group?” Wifies asked as they left the underground parking lot, both taking another moment to recheck their surroundings. “I mean, if we can find them.”

“I think Vixios and Baablu… no, no, that’s not right, Vix and Swayle are together right now. Baablu is probably off exploring somewhere on his own,” Wato thought out loud. 

She couldn’t actually remember where the rest of their little ragtag rescue team were— and honestly, with Wifies next to her, she didn’t really care all that much about where the rest of them had gone. 

It felt a little like her time in the End Barrens again, when all she wanted was for someone to stay. Anyone, to stay. 

Here, though, with her Wifies by her side, the brush of his shoulder against her arm and the solid, real presence of his hand in hers, Wato only saw the need to keep him close.

“Do you want to go back to the, uh, hotel level?” Wato asked, in lieu of a response from Wifies. She couldn’t help but fill the silence between them whenever she could— that was another bad habit she’d picked up from End Barrens. If Wifies minded it, though, he hadn't yet said anything. “We can rest for a bit while the others continue collecting. Or, you know, we can try exploring some more, if that’s what you want.”

Wifies scrunched up his face slightly as he thought about it, shaking his head after just a moment’s hesitation. “I mean, the Complex is a huge place, so we’re probably gonna be stuck here for a while trying to get those tapes. You should try and get some rest while there’s no monsters trying to chase us around.”

The blatant concern on his face made Wato feel a little warm, like standing in a warm ray of sunlight instead of underneath the bright fluorescent lights of the lot’s ceiling. 

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.”

She squeezed his hand just a little tighter before they started moving forward again, with nothing but the maze of light before them to guide the way.

[st5rni]

BACK TO YOU

matthew sturniolo fan fiction

WARNINGS : smut, angst if you squint, ex to lovers

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

after a long night of playing board games with the triplets in their living room, everyone begins to get bored and pack it all up.

"i'll sleep on the couch," you say, not wanting to intrude on any of their rooms. it's been a while since you've seen all three of them, especially after you and matt broke up, so everything seems to be a bit hesitant.

chris puts his arm around your shoulder, "nah thats fine, sleep in the guest bedroom upstairs. we usually have madi or nate stay in there when they come over, so you can temporarily take their place." he insists, giving you his best smile despite being half asleep.

"okay, that works." you agree, standing up and yawning, "which way is it?" trying to remember which floor the guest bedroom is on.

"its the room next to mine." matt says, "you remember, right? you went in the guest bedroom once while trying to find your way to my room when we first moved here." he laughs a bit as he says this, reflecting on that time. back when you two were still together.

you stare at him for a moment before answering, "yeah, um, i remember." you say awkwardly, tucking your hair behind your hair and tying it up so your hands have something to do besides pick at your hangnails. the whole room is quiet now, the tension being very clear to all four of you.

matt fiddles with his rings, "uh, okay goodnight." he says before speed walking away to his room as quickly as he could.

"you two make things so awkward." nick says bluntly while he puts up the uno cards, "like why are you both still like this? just get back together." nick suggests with a snark, chris nodding in agreement.

you feel a blush grow on your cheeks, not sure if from embarrassment or not, "you think he'd want to? i don't know i just felt like he was over it by now. i fucked our relationship up." you admit, trying to sound casual about it, and not as desperate for him as you actually are.

"do i think?" nick laughs, "he wears the horse necklace you bought him almost everyday, even in videos. he still has photos of you two on his desk. he's more in love with you than he was before the breakup, i think." he says with a shrug, lowering his voice a bit so matt doesnt overhear

chris jumps in, "i mean.. why did you two break up, anyways? he never wanted to talk about it." his words had hesitance to them, like he was scared it'd break you if he asked.

"i broke up with him because of the distance, but now i-" you pause your words, wondering if you should tell them now, "i.. i was planning on waiting to tell you guys this but, um, im moving to LA. we have a deposit on a house and everything."

"NO WAY??" chris practically screams before running to give you a hug that even nick joins, "that's great!! why do you seem so like, upset about it?" chris questions, genuinely confused on why you didn't even smile when telling them the news.

you put your face in your hands, "it's embarrassing. i can't even tell you guys- just.. it's stupid." you try and stray away from the LA conversation, not wanting to admit you moved here primarily to try and get closer with matt again, "do you think he'd want to ever.. get back together? or, like, at least talk about it?"

"i mean, i think so?" nick says, some doubt in his words, "i dont know about getting back together, it.. hit him pretty hard." he admits, crossing his arms as he says that, knowing he shouldn't be telling you what he is.

you nod, words not able to form properly anymore, "okay.. uh, goodnight guys." you decided it was best to end the conversation here before you cried in front of them. something you'd never hear the end of. giving them a weak smile, you walk to the guest bedroom you'd be sleeping in.

while you go up there stairs, you reconsider the conversation with nick.

maybe there's just the slightest chance he would ever want you back. but honestly? it was likely the opposite. after you'd hurt him so badly, it only makes sense for him to hate you. you don't even blame him, either.

that thought hurt more than anything, and you needed an answer to whether it was true or not.

you look at the two doors in front of you, knowing one is matts room and the other is the guest bedroom. you could drop everything now, leave matt alone, and completely remove him from your life.

..but you love him too much to not have that closure. you need a final answer.

slowly, you open up his door and peak through the sliver of it, looking in his room.

there matt was.

he was on his bed, shirtless and sweating. his eyes were shut and he was practically panting as he was jerking himself into his own hand.

"fuck, fuck- fuck." you hear him muttering under his breath, and with just your luck, you lean on the door, causing it to accidentally open more than you meant to, causing him to look up and see you staring at him, "FUCK!" he yells, before covering himself with his blanket.

"SORRY— IM SORRY!" you yell back, slamming the door closed immediately after. "shit." you whisper to yourself, recollecting what just happened.

just seeing that. fuck, you had forgotten how much he turns you on.

a couple minutes pass by, matt opens the door, his face flushed and hair messy, still not entirely calmed down yet. he runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat. "um, sorry. whats up?" he tries to ignore the awkward situation lingering in both of their minds.

you clear your throat, and start fidgeting with your fingers, "can we- um, can we talk?" you ask, also still trying to recover. that was not something you'd just forget about. ever. "please?"

"what?" he stutters, "i mean, sure. yeah, come in." he clears the door so you can walk in his room, "its kind of messy, sorry."

you look around matts room, noticing how things were different, but still familiar, "you rearranged things." you state, mainly talking to yourself, still observing.

suddenly you remember what nick said, and look towards his desk and see the photos of you two framed sitting there, exactly where they had always been.

"so.." matt starts, "what'd you want to talk about?" he asks, once again fiddling with his rings.

"oh," you had almost forgot, "i just.. fuck this is gonna sound stupid. um. matt, do you— um... i should have thought about this before i came here." you blush, now embarrassing yourself.

he tries to give you a smile, but fails, "its okay. you can sit down if you want." he offers, sitting down on his bed to try and make you more comfortable towards the idea.

you look at him, and just admire him. how could someone be this sweet? "thank you." you say, accepting the offer while you sit down next to matt. probably closer than you should, "matt do you hate me?" you spit out, trying to get it out of the way.

"what?" he asks softly, almost like the question offended him. "thats a joke, y/n." he scoffs.

"im serious!" you insist, looking directly at him, "i know what i did was fucking horrible, and unfair, and selfish. and i never should have done it but—"

matt interrupts you, standing up, "Y/N what are you talking about? you broke up with me. if anyone hates anyone, its you who hates me." he thinks for a second, "i wish i hated you." he says in a quiet voice, but it had some harshness to it.

"matt, no!" you immediately refute, standing up as well, "i care about you— i promise i care. its all ive been thinking about for months. i mean, fuck, i miss you matt. im still in love with you. i never stopped."

"thats not fair and you know it, y/n." matt turns his face from you, "i have been waiting that maybe there was a chance we could ever try again and as soon as im coming to terms that it wont happen you pull this shit. im not going to do this again knowing it'll have the same result of you thriving in boston with all your friends completely forgetting about me while im here still wearing the stupid fucking necklace you got me on our first date." his voice was shaky, everything he was holding back this whole time had exploded at once.

you feel a salty tear run down your face despite your efforts to stop them, "please, just— this is different. it's different this time i promise." you beg, trying to get words out but hardly being able to, "just, hear me out and it can be your decision on what we-"

matt turns to you again, "i said no y/n." he hesitates when he sees your tears, his expression softening a bit, "you— you were right. it'll never work with you in boston."

"im moving to LA." you blurt out, and that's all you say for a second. a lot of emotions flash on matts face at those words, but you cant make out any of them. you take a deep breath, "i missed you, and boston wasnt taking me anywhere for my future. i..." you think for a moment. "i see you in my future."

matt stares at you, not reacting in any visible way at this point. you start panicking when he still doesn't say anything.

"but, if you dont want that that's okay too— ill stay away, or like— i can go back to boston, i just have a deposit on the house its no big—" your sentence gets cut off by matt walking towards you, grabbing you by the waist, and pulling you in for a kiss.

as your lips connect, he moves one hand to your face. his touch is loving, forgiving. just how you'd remembered it. you didnt kiss him back at first due to the initial shock. he pulls away, "stay." is all he and mumbles before kissing you again.

this time you immediately kiss back, wrapping your arms around his neck just like you used to. his body pressed against yours. its everything is just how it was, but somehow even better. the emotions are strong, enveloping both of you.

his lips move against yours as he moves his hands down to your hips, making your stomach tie in knots and your face warm. suddenly you're acutely aware of every action, every sensation, every thought, every feeling. its all heightened as you realize the situation you're in

the kiss comes to an end, and you stare at him, unable to suppress the smile from your face, "so.. you do still love me?"

matt cant help but laugh, causing you to join him, putting your face against his chest, "y/n, i just went on a whole rant about how i love you. then i kissed you. i think you can put two and two together."

"yeah, well... i miss hearing it." you pull your face from his chest so you can see him again, looking into his light blue eyes, then his whole face. you missed this so much.

"in that case," he kisses your head, "i love you, y/n. so much." his thumb gently caresses the areas of your cheeks that are tear-stained. "and to make it official, can i be your boyfriend again?" he asks, his voice genuine and sensitive. you know he's wanted to say that for so long, and so have you.

you bring him in for a hug this time, "i love you more, matt. and yes, you can." you say, taking in everything as you do.

you finally had matt again after all this time, and this time you weren't letting go. not again.

"matt," you softly say to get his attention, and lift your head up to kiss him again, he immediately kisses back, and picks you up as he does.

you wrap your legs around him, not removing yourself from the kiss. he sits on the bed with you in his lap.

the kiss is passionate, and slowly getting more heated as both of you are overcame with each other. you're pressing down on him, softly grinding against his crotch. it was already hard considering you interrupted him just a few minutes before. the atmosphere of the room changes, its sudden, both of you knowing where this was leading and neither wanting to change it.

he grabs your hips and pulls you down on him harder, your touch to him becoming even more intimate now. he's breath is heavy while you focus on making him feel as good as possible, missing being like this with him. missing seeing him like this.

as things were heating up, he brings the kiss a short stop, "y/n, are you sure you want to go farther with this? i was already kind of.. you know, when you came to talk to me. we just got back together, i dont want you to rush into this if you'll regret it." he checks, not wanting to ruin things because of one stupid choice.

as obvious as it was that you wanted this, it still meant a lot he had asked you. you almost forgot how caring hes always been with you, "i want you, matt. i promise. i want you in every way." as soon as you say this, as if a switch was turned on, he dips his head down and starts kissing at your exposed neck, making a small gasp escape your lips.

hes making sure he leaves marks, biting and sucking in every place, not hurting you, but instead making you more and more needy. you bring your hands up to his hair and run your fingers through it, still as soft as its always been.

"y/n, y'know what i was thinking of earlier?" he asks you as he moves his kisses up to your jaw, blissfully taking in every little noise you would make.

"n-no." you stutter out, trying to focus on his words when all your brain could linger on was the thought of him being inside of you, "tell me?"

you feel his lips curl into a smile, "i was thinking of you. of us. just being like this, your mouth on me again. me inside of you again." he mumbles, just loud enough to where you can hear it, his breath hot against you're skin.

you bite your lip softly, "i remember." your voice is soft, thinking about touching him like that again, "can i.." you trail off your words, getting off his lap to sit on your knees in front of him, and you softly touch his sweatpants waistband.

he lifts his hips up for a moment to help you pull off his pants and boxers easier as he takes off his own shirt.

you stare at his length in front of you, hard with pre cum leaking at the tip. you look up at him staring at you, waiting to see what you do next.

you move one hand to wrap around his base, he shudders at the sudden feeling despite as gentle as you were.

remembering what he likes, you rub your finger against his tip teasingly, just touching it enough to make it somewhat of a tickling, pleasurable sensation.

you look up at him, lust hazy in your eyes before looking back down and licking the tip, swirling your tongue as agonizingly slow as you could .

"fuck, y/n." he hissed, the desperation clear in his voice. he moves one hand to your hair, keeping the other still on the bed as he throws his head back.

after a bit more teasing, you finally put your whole mouth around his tip, and slowly bring your head down.

matts breaths are fast paced and rigid, keeping his hand in your hair as he tightens his grip subconsciously, his mind fuzzy from the slow pace.

you bring your head back up his length, bobbing it up and down. you use your hands to reach any place your mouth cant, swirling your tongue against his base and getting where you knew all his sensitive spots were.

he's letting out soft moans, trying to stay quiet so no one would hear him. he watches you intensely, admiring the sight, "you're so fucking pretty Y/N." he breathes out, slightly bucking his hips into your mouth, loving the feeling of you on him.

you continue like this for a little bit more, enjoying making him feel this way. not too much time passes before he gently pulls you off of him right as he's getting close, "not yet." he mutters, taking deep breaths as he comes down from a high.

you stand up and he pulls you back into his lap, but this time he grabs your waist tightly and flips your positions, pinning you down to the bed.

matt reaches for the hem of your tank top, looking at you, his eyes half lidded, wanting permission to take it off of you.

in response, you lift your back and help him pull it off you. you're about to unhook your bra as well before matt moves your hands out of the way and does it effortlessly.

"its still your favorite?" he asks, motioning towards the bra. its lacy pink one. it was really cute and surprisingly comfortable at the same time.

and you knew it always made you irresistible to matt.

"i only wear it when i see you." you admit breathlessly, before fully taking it off and throwing it off to the side, it now laying on his floor.

he lightly caresses your body, dragging his hands up from your torso to your breasts, feeling every curve you had, "just like i remember." he whispers, before leaning to shower your entire upper body in kisses. "my beautiful girl."

matt continues to kiss down until he gets to your shorts, and he softly pulls both your shorts and panties down, cherishing every bit of you being revealed.

once he takes off those last bits of your clothes, he admires you while he rubs the inside of your thigh, "i missed you, Y/N. not just like this, i missed every moment of you. so much." he says as he takes off his rings, putting them on the bedside table. "i missed being inside you, too."

your face turns red, eyes glued on his hands now, curious on his next actions, "matt-" he interrupts you by spitting on his fingers and bringing them down to rub your clit. "fuck!" you gasp, the sudden feeling shocking you.

matt continues to rub in small circles, your back arching as he does so, "have you been with anyone else?" he asks, kissing your stomach as he speaks, unable to keep himself off you.

"no." you tell him honestly through pants.

matt hums softly, and slowly brings his finger down your hole, before putting it inside you easily from how wet you were, looking at your reaction as he does so, "so tight..." he whispers. "does this hurt? when was the last time you-"

"i dont." you interrupt him, knowing what he's going to ask, "i mean i like, i do stuff.. i just— i only let you do it."

matt smiles against your chest, "ill take care of you baby." he says gently, coming up to kiss your jawline and softly biting as he does so. you feel him curl his finger inside of you, "can i add another one?"

you hesitantly nod, not able to get any words out. the first finger was just starting to feel good as he continued to move it inside of you, he brings his other hand down to rub your clit more as well, making you twitch from the overstimulation.

"use your words," he orders, his voice soft but eyes full of hunger. "i wanna hear you." he brings another finger to your entrance, teasing you by just putting the fingertip in.

you shut your eyes, "please, matt. please put another finger in." you beg, opening your legs more to urge him to do it faster.

"perfect." he says, before putting another finger in, this one more of a struggle, "is that good for you?" he asks, knowing its been a while and not wanting to rush you.

"yes. yeah, thank you. fuck." you reassure, gripping the bedsheet to steady yourself. it wasnt a lot, but it was the most you've had in a while. not to mention its matt.

he chuckles softly against your skin, and brings his head up to kiss you. he moves the hand rubbing your clitoris to grab both of your wrists and pin them above your head. there wasn't too much force, but his grip was just tight enough, "why are you thanking me? it should be the other way around."

he spreads his fingers inside of you, trying to get you ready for whats to come. after the stinging pain was gone, it felt blissful. matts always been good with his fingers, but you forgot how good.

after a while, he had added another finger, prepping and teasing you by dragging it out for as long as he could make you last.

you had begun to grind yourself down on his fingers, trying to get them to go even further inside you, "matt. please, im ready. please. i need you so badly." you plead, your legs twitching from his touch.

"alright, since you've been so patient." he complies, slowly removing his fingers from you, making you shiver from the empty feeling, and letting your wrists go. he brings himself forwards, and you subconsciously wrap your legs around his waist. "let me know when you're ready."

you exhale shakily, feeling matt rub against your entrance. whether he's just trying to get ready, or if hes purposely teasing you, it makes your stomach heat up in that familiar way.

you look at him after a moment, and see the desire as he stares back at you, "im ready." you say, bringing your hands up to wrap around his neck.

at that very same time, he slowly pushes inside you, causing you to let out a sharp gasp, "fuck..." you hiss in pain, closing your eyes.

"it's okay, im going slow. im almost fully in. just let me know when you're ready for me to move, baby." he comforts, running a hand through your hair, the other one gripping your waist.

you eventually feel him come to a stop after what feels like forever, knowing that means he's finally in, "im sorry. im almost ready, shit." you're trying to stop yourself from showing it hurts, knowing its going to feel amazing after a second. remembering how amazing he feels.

he shakes his head immediately, knowing how long it's been for you, "no, dont apologize. take your time." he inhales slowly, "y/n, you feel so fucking good already." he shuts his eyes now too, your walls tightening more around him the longer he stays still inside you.

"okay. okay." you speak up after a few silent moments, "move, please. im ready." you whimper, moving your hands to grab his shoulders, tightening your grip on him to prepare yourself.

matt nods, and slowly pulls himself back and forward again. it stings, but already hurts less than you thought it would.

"faster." you let out in a breathy sigh, looking directly at him now that you're more used comfortable towards the feeling.

"wont fight you on that one, baby." he huffs out, increasing his pace gradually so it's not too much at once for you.

now you have yourself arching your back as he thrusts into you rapidly. he's being gentle, but it's just enough so you can feel his passion. you can feel how badly he wants you.

he's letting out breathy moans, and is leaning into you while continuing at his pace, not taking even the slightest break.

your legs and hips are shaking, bucking up for as much friction as you can get during this, the pleasure building more and more.

you can hear his pants next to your ear, he leans in to kiss you despite not being properly able to. the kiss is sloppy, but heated. there's so much love behind it, and you know you can both feel it, "fuck y/n. you're so perfect, such a good girl. ive wanted this for so long baby, you have no idea." his words are broken apart as he ruts against you.

"im close." you say, his words bringing you to the brink of an orgasm, already still recovering from that high from earlier you know you wont last long, "can i cum, please?"

matt inhales sharply, bringing his hand to your neck and squeezes softly subconsciously. matt slowly nods, "yes. fuck, yes."

with matts permission, you let out a moan saying matts name, slightly hoarse from the grip he has on your neck. you feel yourself grow warmer than before as you release, biting your bottom lip, trying to keep a little bit of dignity for yourself.

"fuck." matt sighs out. "me, too. im- fuck, i have to-" he quickly pulls out and releases all over your stomach and breasts, his mouth open as whimpers fall out of it.

"fuck. sorry." he apologizes, leaning over to grab a towel.

he quickly wipes his cum off you, and throws the towel in a bin of other dirty clothes, "do you need to take a shower or anything?" he asks, clearly still out of breath.

thats an obvious no since you can hardly talk, let alone stand up for that long, "no its okay." you respond as you scoot up, patting a spot on the bed, "just stay here with me. or, i— i can leave if you want me too—" you panic, not knowing if he wanted you to leave or not. you didn't want to have the wrong idea and invade in matts privacy.

"no, y/n." he laughs softly, "stay, please. just give me one second, okay? ill be right back." matt grabs some underwear and sweatpants and throws them on before kissing your forehead and leaving the room.

a few minutes pass by, and he comes back holding a plate of some of your favorite snacks and two bottles of water. "i know its late, so you probably don't want anything to eat right now, but at least drink some water for me if you can." he hands you the water and puts the snacks down on top of the drawers next to you, "do you want some clothes to sleep in? a sweater? you're cold, arent you?"

you just stare at him admiringly for a beat, wondering how you got so lucky as to have this wonderful man back in your life, "dont stress, matt. you dont need to do all of this. can you just hand me my underwear and maybe a jacket or something?" you request, a smile on your face. you missed this feeling so much.

"yeah, totally. here," matt grabs your underwear and a random ransom hoodie he has and hands them to you. you quickly put them on, and matt crawls in bed with you, "come here." he whispers softly, wrapping his arm around you and running his fingers up and down your arm, "i missed you."

a gentle smile forms on your lips as you lean into his touch. "i missed you, too."

matts silent again, lost in thought, "why dont you just stay here? i mean, it might be too soon but— it'd save money for you and plus you'd be here most of the time anyways. plus, i could see you more."

your face is immediately covered in a blush at the implication. its a risky idea, but hes right. it'd make more sense, after all you were going to be here more than your own house anyways, "you know what? i dont think thats a bad idea. if it means i get to live like this everyday, im definitely down." you snicker while leaning more into matts chest, "but the issue is i signed to live there for at least 6 months already."

"that's okay," matt assures you. "as long as you're nearby, you know?"

you nod, leaning in to kiss him softly. his hand gives your waist a gentle squeeze before chuckling softly.

"round two?"

A/N

hope u enjoy!! part 2 is in the making

[fallenhunnyapple]

After getting a bunch of questions from @ilikelookingatthings, its time to compile some more info about this AU! So here we are~ I might be rehashing some things said before for clarity and expanding on ideas

(the words are from Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage because it makes me insane and suits this AU a lot)

So let's break this down into separate parts.

Adam's Sexuality:

Adam is a closeted Gay man. This is something he's always been, but his pride and the enforcement of the Angels kept him from ever really pursuing anything while he was In Heaven. Lucifer was his first love and that memory is so deeply embedded into his heart that even without his memories, he still Feels the affection and attraction.

He doesn't have memories of the formative experiences that made him struggle in Eden and Heaven, but the internalize homophobia isn't going anywhere, and being the priest of a small town, he's faced with Homophobia often enough that he'll never feel safe being Out. Feeling attraction towards male constituents instead of the female ones made his sexuality very clear to him, even though he knew that if he were to feel any attraction it /should/ be towards women.

So meeting Lucifer and being faced with his ancient love, feeling unjudged by the one he's attracted to (Lucifer mentioned offhandedly early on that he's bisexual), of course he's still conflicted because this is Literally Temptation by the Devil himself, but he finds himself unable to repress everything when Lucifer is being so open and making him feel its Okay. Sure, its still to the Devil's own ends, but that doesn't make it any less supportive.

Adam's Ultimate Fate:

Adam is ending up in Hell. Whatever else happens while he's alive, there is no escaping that fact. Being in a sexual relationship with the Devil Himself is more than enough for eternal damnation. If it had been with a human, things may have been different, or they may not. He's Meant to stay celibate for this test, which incidentally goes against the very purpose of his creation, still etched into his soul despite not having the memories. And that in itself makes him more susceptible to being offered What he wants with Who he wants.

Lucifer makes it very clear to him at some point in the future that he wants him in Hell. Not as a way to spite Heaven, but because he wants _Him_, _Adam_ in Hell with him. And for the Years they have together, because Adam isn't being rushed to his grave or anything, he's allowed to live his full life, Lucifer will gladly push Adam further and further into Sin to ensure he'll come home to him in the end. Thwarting Heaven's plan is only secondary now.

Adam's Connection with the Divine:

The point of this test is to prove that Adam can be a Good Enough Person to make it to Heaven. The Angels are completely Hands Off. They're not meant to make him More than a Mere Human and interfering or speaking to him would potentially prophetize him and that defeats the Purpose. And once Lucifer gets involved, fighting over Adam's soul would make too much of a mess of things. They just have to hope that Adam makes correct choices and that ultimately, he does enough good to outweigh the bad and still ascends when the time comes.

Lucifer of course wouldn't be so keen on the idea. He probably knows that Heaven is Watching, but he would still do what he can to hide things from them. Adam is His now, he's decided, and he won't let them take him away.

Adam's Faith:

When Adam was dropped into the human world without his memories, he was more or less deposited outside a church so a priest took him in. He was late teens at that point, so he wasn't exactly Raised, but he was very influenced when the Church helped him when he was at his lowest and most vulnerable point. And he inherently had Faith because despite not having memories, he can still Feel it in his Soul that Heaven and the tales of the Bible are Real. So entering the Faith only made sense. Also as sort of a way to repay the Church for taking care of him when he needed it most.

He didn't really bother pursuing other interests or possibilities because he's fairly limited while living out of a Church, so it just makes sense to stick with what he was given instead of having to build up from Nothing.

Adam and Lucifer:

Lucifer goes into this whole thing with the plan to make Adam Sin enough to be condemned and disrupt Heaven's plans. It shifted from random impersonal sins to wanting to make Adam Sin with Him specifically when he noticed the now-human man Clearly had some feelings for him.

The thing is, Adam is at Such a base state, he's not all too different from how he was in Eden. Not exactly, of course, there are a lot of different factors. But there's still a sort of childish playfulness and naivete that is Endearing. Lucifer was Fond of Adam then and he finds himself becoming Fond of him now. Sure he's not going to jump into and real deep feelings or anything immediately, but its not /impossible/.

Lucifer doesn't hide the fact that he's The Devil for Long. Adam figures out very quickly that he's a demon and Lucifer never disputes that, letting him believe it for a time. But he doesn't lie about his name and he doesn't lie about his status. When Adam asks the right questions, he learns who exactly he's dealing with. Which would explain why he was able to walk on hallowed ground and why he could spray him with holy water from a super soaker and the most it did was tingle and sizzle a little bit.

Maybe there is some sort of Merit to Adam 'distracting the devil' as it were, but in reality, Lucifer wasn't actually... Doing anything or tempting anybody. Other demons use his name, but he personally doesn't want to deal with More Sinners in Hell, he already doesn't want to deal with the amount that's there, why would he try to tempt more? Adam is a special case because its at first to piss off Heaven and then because he genuinely just wants Adam to be by his side when he dies.

Adam will one day have his feelings reciprocated because Lucifer is a sap like that. And Lucifer will give Adam some of the first genuine affection he's ever had in his life, which only makes him fall harder. But they have plenty of time to figure themselves out.

Lucifer:

It started as a way to get back at Heaven, truly. But it didn't take long for his goals to change. Less about condemning this Holy Man and more about Keeping Adam by his side. He does spend a lot of time on Earth because of this. Which is very new to him. He hadn't really been to Earth before this, but the scope of hos exploration is very small, so he mostly just sticks to following Adam around and being a nuisance.

He doesn't spend _all_ his time on Earth, he's still in Hell. But he was rather isolated there, barely taking care of his own duties as King as it was, so his absence isn't really noticed all too much except for the people who Know what he's up to. Which basically amounts to Asmodeus and his publicist (an OC I have that's more or less a constant in every universe who has to deal with Lucifer's public image good and bad).

Charlie and Lilith are not really on his radar. Sure he misses them both, but neither of them are actively in his life at that point, so his energy and mind are focused on Adam instead.

Adam's loneliness:

While his loneliness is certainly pronounced in the way he doesn't really have friends or true connections at the Church he lives and works at, it something much deeper than that. Adam has Always been isolated. Heaven was very isolating for him in ways he wouldn't know or think to express.

Adam was the first Human Soul in Heaven, but he wasn't Quite a Winner either. He was something More. He's in a position between the two that meanst he inherently felt Othered by both. That, plus his behavior and attitude made it incredibly difficult to make any real connections on Heaven. The closest was with his Exorcists, who respected and cared for him still as a superior so it never really went beyond that. Even Lute was still subordinate to him, even though he treated her most as his equal. But ultimately he was very lonely.

So that loneliness pervades into his Human life. He doesn't know how to connect with people, not really. And again, being in a position of authority over others makes him feel isolated again. He's the only priest at his church, so he doesn't have someone of his same rank to connect with either. And he's never had parents or siblings or any of those built-in relationships that teach you how to connect to people. He's a grown man who has always had to start from scratch.

And that makes it all the easier to fall into it when Lucifer offers him companionship. Not even sexual but just... Someone willing to talk with him and be silly and hang out.

[sunarots]

so high school ━━━ atsumu miya

03. cocky ♡

“Maybe you should take your hood down and sunglasses off.” After fifteen minutes and a pit stop in the first coffee shop you could find, Atsumu was yet to make his appearance any less suspicious.

“Why?”

“Because you’re drawing more attention to us and they probably think you’re kidnapping me.”

Atsumu looks around himself and curses under his breath, pulling his hood down but keeping his sunglasses and mask on. “Fine.”

“Lose the sunglasses too, you look like a dick.”

“Oi, watch it or I’ll kick ya out,” Atsumu laughs. He moves the sunglasses to sit on his head. “Here, take the lift up.��� He takes the second suitcase from you, rolling both of them by his sides. “How was the flight?”

“It was okay. Some lady’s baby started screaming halfway through and then she picked a fight with a flight attendant for not having anything to heat up milk.”

“What?”

You laugh along with him and shrug. "Funniest thing, they did have something to heat it up for her. She just started screaming out of nowhere! Then the baby threw up on her and the snacks she got, which shut her up really quick."

Atsumu laughs, holding open the elevator door for the two women waiting behind you both. He presses the button and you start moving up. "Just so ya know, none of yer furniture has arrived yet. Yer more than welcome to take my bed and I'll take the couch until it does get here."

"Oh, I sold all my furniture. Those boxes on my story was all things I donated to different charity shops, Ushiwaka delivered them for me before taking me to the airport."

Atsumu nods along slowly to your words. "What's yer plan?"

"Oh, I have money from all the things I managed to sell, along with the deposit I'd placed on the flat, so it's enough for basics. After I drop my suitcases off, I'll go for a walk and try to find some shops and you can go back to work."

"Don't be silly." Atsumu takes both your suitcases before you have a chance to stop him, leading you out of the elevator and towards the parking lot. "I can take ya. I took the whole afternoon off to help ya settle in. Plus, I can show ya all the hidden spots. We can grab a bite to eat."

"Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience-"

"Yer not inconveniencing anyone, Y/N," Atsumu assures you, stopping behind a sleek, black sports car and lifting the trunk of it. He lifts the two suitcases, barely managing to get them both to fit. "I'm starved. We can try yer world famous onigiri tomorrow after ya get some rest."

You reach to open the car door, flinching back as the door raises upwards. "Jesus, you really make the most of your money here. Tobio's was just some old car. What's the point of it going up rather than outwards?" You slide in beside him, grabbing at the door and pulling it down.

He settles into his seat and lets out a soft chuckle. "Uh, it looks cool? Plus, ya can't hit any other cars with them." He pulls out of the spot and starts driving seemingly fast.

"You might catch some low-flying planes."

Atsumu shakes his head. "Oi, watch what ya say about my baby here. Be gentle."

"Are you being gentle with her, you took that corner at sixty." You have one hand rest on the door, staring at Atsumu with doubt in your eye. "Miya, are you trying to kill me? Was that the plan all along?"

Smiling and shaking his head, he glances over at you and slows the car down. "Ah, sorry. I forget to slow down with others in the car. I’m not usually the chauffeur.”

Nodding your head, you admire the streets you pass much more intently now that you’re going at a more reasonable speed. “So you drew the short straw this time around?” you tease, Atsumu not catching your smile.

“Nah, I didn’t. I offered.”

“Wow, you offered. I’m flattered.”

He chuckles. “Ah, well, mostly because the others need their practice more than me. I’m better than them.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really cocky?”

His grin grows wider as he slows and pulls into a parking lot, carefully reversing into a private spot. “Everyone, darlin’. Come on, let’s get you unpacked.”

masterlist. previous | next

summary. after your best friend reveals he’s moving out of your shared flat, you’re presented with a tough choice: let one of the creeps who are begging you to let them move in with you, or find a cheaper flat in another area of town. a do-over couldn’t have come at a better time for you, but your only option for a place to stay is with someone your best friend knew from high school, and his two teammates.

taglist (open!). @reignsaway @yuminako @thiisisntlovely @diorzs @aboutkiyoomi @spicana @bakingcuriosity @kr1nqu @savemebrazilhinata @dazqa @sereniteav @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @sleezzsister @hermaeusmorax

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Oh I got a good one!

Remember AU prompt 5? Well Imagine all the other fallen take an interest in the reader and they all begin fighting over them?

Request Prompt #33 - ✦💓

You couldn't be in any more of a pickle now. Apparently, you've figured out since we last left off from, that this is a seal dimension. A dimension specifically created by the witches in order to contain some very specific beings. And to be honest? You were currently considering just crumbling on the spot from anxiety. Because out of all the cookies you've seen here( aka, like, five you think?) you're the only one that's normal sized! How fun. ( Disclaimer: it is not fun, you are fucking terrified. ) You can already hear two of them fighting, well, so far it's only verbal so at least you aren't in too much danger. All you have to do is stay hidden... stay hidden... stay hidden. You open your eyes, the forest around you has changed again. You also could no longer see the other two cookie's arguing, you're pretty sure that their names had been Burning Spice and Mystic Flour? You weren't sure. But you did know that they were arguing about you. Or more specifically, how you got here. You sneak out from your former hiding place, the forest had definitely changed your location. It just... did that sometimes, that's why it was so easy for you to get lost. Whenever you hid from something in the shadows there was a good chance that the forest around you was going to change again. " Oh I'm terribly sorry for the wait, little star." You heard a voice echo through the forest. You froze up- what the heck forest? Weren't these strange teleports supposed to get you out of danger? I mean, that's what they did before, right? You were immediately seize with a gasp by a large hand made out of shadows, it slithered up speedily into the tree where it deposited you into the equally large hand of a certain individual. You cast your gaze up into the gigantic eyes of Shadow Milk Cookie, which stared at you with interest and amusement. In hindsight, maybe you should have stopped hiding in the shadows. " Aw, what's the matter little star?" He cooed, poking at your cheek. " Are you not happy to see me? That's very disheartening, you know?" He spoke in that kind of tone that you'd use with a baby or a small animal, you know the one. " I don't think I'd be particularly happy to see any of you." You retorted, earning a cackle from the gigantic jester. You knew more about the beasts than you did when you arrived here after all, and you knew that Shadow Milk was basically embodied deceit so you barely trusted a word he said. And yet, he seemed to have a genuine interest in your safety... If not only for his own personal goals. At least, that was your reasoning as you figured that if he was the one triggering the teleports, then he'd at least be looking out for you, right? You heard him sigh. " You know, you seem to love making things more complicated for yourself, hm? Now all the others know about your existence within the seal, and that's making things more rough for you, riiight?" He drew out that 'i' sound just to tease you, but you knew there was at least some truth to what he'd said. You nodded in reply, flinching at the sharp grin he gave you. " Welll~ It turns out I have just the solution for that! If you stick with me, then you'll be safe! No more of that 'running away' business." He offered, but you knew there'd be a catch. " But! In return... You have to help me get free and back out into the world, 'kay?" You hesitated, you'd doom the world as you knew it if you let him out, right? Did the world out there even exist as you knew it now? You have no clue as to how much time has passed since you zapped yourself in here. Shadow Milk was looking at you expectantly, and you didn't want to find out what would happen to you if you rejected his offer. " O... okay, I will."

[salty-autistic-writer]

Snippet in which Tommy has a cat.

Tommy opens the door for Buck and clears his throat. “Well. That’s it. My modest home.”

“It’s nice. I really like the plants,” Buck says, walking inside, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. “And you have a couch.” He sits on it, sinking in a little bit because it’s soft. Really soft. Hm. “So comfy. I really should buy a couch, right?”

“I can really recommend a couch, yeah. We could buy one together,” Tommy says, a corner of his mouth ticking up.

“I’d like that,” Buck decides, already imagining how much fun it would be to go to Ikea together. However, he gets distracted as he sees something he wasn’t expecting. A black cat is hiding behind one of Tommy’s plants, glancing at Buck with wide-open golden eyes.

“No way, you have a cat!” Buck gasps. “I love cats. Actually, I love all kinds of animals. Even sharks. Did you know sharks don’t have bones? But they can still fossilize because they deposit calcium salts in their skeletal cartilage to strengthen it, and -” He stops with a little embarrassed chuckle. “Oops, I’m rambling, right?”

Tommy smiles. “I love hearing you ramble. And apparently, so does Luna.”

“Oh.” Buck sees that the cat is now sitting right in front of the couch. Moved so quietly, he didn’t even notice her approach. “Hey,” he says quietly, leaning forward and reaching out a hand. “Look at you. You’re so cute.”

Luna studies him a moment longer, then sniffs at Buck’s hand and rubs her head against it. “There you go,” Buck says, grinning. He gives Luna a good head rub and she starts to purr.

Tommy raises a curious brow. “She never does that. I mean, not that I brought a lot of people here, but when I did, she always stayed away, hiding somewhere. She really likes you.”

“Yeah,” Buck laughs when Luna jumps up onto the couch and continues to rub all over him. “Everyone loves me.”

“True,” Tommy says, walking over to Buck and kissing his head. “But only I get to keep you, right?”

“Right,” Buck agrees and pulls Tommy on the couch because of course, he has to test how nice it feels, to make out with his boyfriend on it. Luna studies them for a curious moment, then meows and stalks away, obviously not interested in seeing more smooches.

Find it on AO3

[seaglassmelody]

Silly Saturday-Sunday

Thank you to @rookamell and @serensama for the tag!!

Rules: Go through your WIPs, or create something new, and find something with some laughter, jokes and levity!

So I posted most of my silly stuff for the moment but I did get struck with inspiration in the shower this morning so have more Kitchen Shenanigans ficlet under the cut:

----

Neve was starving.

Other than her requisite cup of (Lucanis-brewed) coffee that morning, she hadn't even had time to think about food.

She and Davrin had spent hours bent over notes about the Gloom Howler- where it had shown up, what it had said, guessing where it might go next. They hadn't gotten any closer to an answer by the time Assan started pacing around Davrin's room and sqwaking insistently.

Davrin had sighed as he leaned away from the table. "I guess it is about that time, huh boy?" He looked at Neve as she tilted her head in question. "Lunchtime. Might as well take a break anyway, since we're not getting much further right now."

It was then that Neve registered just how hungry she was, though she was loathe to admit it. She wouldn't give their resident mother hens the satisfaction of knowing that she did in fact forget to eat far more often than she should.

They had agreed to leave everything laid out to return to later in the day and headed for the kitchen to see if anyone had started making food.

The good news was, someone had started making food.

The bad news was the kitchen was now an absolute disaster.

"What…happened?" Neve's voice was incredulous as she took in the scene from the kitchen doorway.

Shards of broken plates were scattered across the floor, intermingled with stray cutlery. There was a large splash of water that seemed to have dimmed the fireplace (but not put it out entirely). Rice was everywhere. The air smelled heavily of burnt…something.

Bellara sat at the table, struggling to sit still while Rook wrapped a bandage around her hand. And tapping about the room was Manfred, who was slowly picking up vegetables from the ground and placing them on the tabletop. He seemed to be organizing them by color.

Rook glanced up from her work on Bellara's hand briefly. "Hi guys. Do you know where the broom is? We should probably get the plate pieces cleaned up before someone steps on them."

Davrin clicked his tongue at Assan to get the griffon to stay still while he went to the pantry to grab the broom. "You know, you two are usually a mess but this is a new level."

"We can explain!" Bellara insisted as Rook released her hand. "We were making fried rice for lunch, but we started talking about serials-"

"Well that explains a lot already." Neve interrupted, amused. She had wandered over to start picking up the cutlery and deposit it in the sink.

"I think the stove went on the fritz, because the pan should not have caught fire that quickly." Rook groused, "And Bel went to grab it and burned her hand, so I got her some water to clean it and put a compress on-"

"But at some point Manfred got in here! And he was way too close to the flames, so I tried to get him away from it but that knocked the water bowl off the counter, and the splash made Rook startle-"

"Which knocked the plates and silverware off the counter. Not sure how the vegetables wound up there though." Rook stared at Manfred's collection thoughtfully. "Maybe he threw them down there because he thought we were doing it on purpose."

Manfred gave a dissenting hiss.

"Or maybe not."

Davrin came back with the broom, shuffling behind Neve to begin sweeping up broken pottery. "Is it too early to say that you two shouldn't cook unsupervised anymore?"

Rook and Bellara shared a brief look and sighed in unison. "Probably." Bellara agreed.

A calmer quiet settled in as the group worked to clean up the disaster, interrupted only by the clacking of Assan's claws and Manfred's bare feet on the stone.

"Ah Manfred, here you are- my word, what happened in here?" Emmrich exclaimed as he entered, also in search of lunch, Neve presumed.

Bellara, Rook, Neve and Davrin all looked at each other and just started laughing.

"Maybe we should go pick up some food in Treviso today." Rook suggested.

"And then we can warn Lucanis not to come back for a few hours." Neve agreed.

"And not tell him what happened?" Bellara gasped.

Davrin sighed. "Blame it on me and Assan if you have to."

"Davrin…" Bellara and Rook chorused, touched.

"But only this once!"

[bathic]

13. Never warm, never implicitly inviting.

Word Count: 6.7k

Chapter Warning: Sexual Content, MxM, Physical Violence, Angst, Unhealthy Relationships, Toxicity, Minor Fluff.

The corridor ended in an opening to a large, circular room with planked walls of dark wood that shuddered and shook as if racked by passing chills. You eyed the boards closely, catching the smallest slivers of the same fleshy pink that the tunnel Yunho and Wooyoung had guided you through.

“Sit.”

San stood at the end of a table, the plate and bowl and mug deposited on the surface. His tone left no room for arguments, and yet you still managed to find one.

“Do you seriously think I would sit and eat after everything you’ve all done to me?” You scoff, staying rooted at the entrance to what you gathered in a quick once over to be a dining hall. Three tables sat in the center of the room, arranged in a peculiar manner with a single corner of each touching. The one your food sat on had a singular bench facing outward. Actually, all three of them did. If filled by bodies, two of the tables sitting opposite of each other would allow the ability for its occupants to be in full view of one another. The third table almost had a sense of higher ground. Nothing paralleled its position, instead it was the head that looked on at either of its flanks.

“Sit.”

“No. It could be poisoned, something I wouldn’t put past any of you of doing.”

You watched the way San’s nostrils flared, gloved hands tightening at his sides. And then he raised the closest one to the table, grasping the bronze handle of a spoon submerged in whatever was in the bowl. He refused to look away as he raised it, the juice sloshing a bit over the sides, towards his mouth that parted to quietly slurp it back. You shifted on your feet, an uncomfortable feeling biting at the back of your ankles. San lowered the eating utensil to briefly scoop up a small portion of the rice on the center of the plate and followed the same path as the soup to his mouth. Then, did he look away.

“Eat.”

“Why?” The question came out weaker than you wished but the need to still fight burned like a hot coal in your chest. It wasn’t like you were safe, nothing and nobody here could be trusted.

San sighs, “Because our food supply runs thin. Wasting what little we have means bringing us one step closer to starvation. And now that an extra ration is to be added to the preexisting eight, that’ll make the stock deplete quicker.”

Perhaps a bit of compassion could be spared in that moment, unfortunately it wouldn’t be coming from you.

“Why the hell should I care if any of you starve to death?” Did he seriously think you would actually feel sympathetic to their dwindling resources when they not only abducted you but proceeded to threaten your life left and right? You gazed at him like he was the most pathetic creature you have ever had the displeasure of looking upon.

The harsh words that spilled past your lips caused an ugly furrow to tug at his brows. He settled his sight on you once again and it was nothing but a reflection of contempt. What an awful thing to say to someone who could easily shatter your jaw with just a single punch. Was that what you wanted? For him to completely pulverize your face until nothing was discernible, to create a gaping crater of broken teeth, shattered bones and fleshy mush. He could, his hands were already itching to rearrange that scowl you were giving him.

You startle when his hand suddenly slams down onto the table’s top, rattling the dish ware from the force.

“You either sit and eat or I will escort you back to the captains' quarters. And don’t think I won’t let him know about your refusal to cooperate. One thing you will learn very quickly is how he absolutely loathes insolence.”

“I would rather stand here and rot into the floorboards than to sit at the table belonging to a bunch of psychotic freaks and eat the slop provided out of self-righteous pity.”

It was venom pitted against acid; potent poison laced in every word. San moved like a leaf in the wind, wings fluttered open and enlarged enough to drown out the warm lighting of the dining hall. Even in the shadow that he cast, you could make out the raw odium in his one eye. An untapped hatred. Oh, he was far beyond the point of anger.

The first step he took felt like the whisper of a blade against the skin on your throat. Just a light pressing, but a threat all the same. It promised for more. The next step, hollow yet loud, had you backing away. The corridor at your back was far more inviting in its shrouded darkness than the man slowly stalking towards you. Perhaps it was the lighting or the way his wings puffed out like the feathers of a peeved off chicken, but you could have sworn he almost seemed to grow in size.

“Stay away from me—“

You shuffle further back when his snails-pace progress is doubled, nearly toes to toes with one another. Something collides with your back, or you manage to run right into it in your blind attempt at putting more distance between the both of you.

“What’re you doing?”

Curiosity never blended well with danger and yet the person at your back, who’s large round eyes you met over your shoulder and instantly recognized as the same ones belonging to a certain visitor back in the brig, was every bit of that.

~

Mingi’s head turned at the sound of the door opening, watching with squinted eyes as Seonghwa slipped into the room wordlessly. From below him, Yeosang stirs slightly but remains in the throes of slumber.

“Seonghwa?”

“You’re still awake.” Wasn’t a question, wasn’t meant to be one.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Both of them were shying away from the elephant in the room, choosing to creep around the subject out of their own selfishness. Mingi wanted to know what had happened but couldn’t stand to hear how awful (because he knew what his beloved was like— they all did) Hongjoong must have been and Seonghwa was still reeling in his anger. He didn’t want to lash out at the younger, knowing it would be misdirected. Mingi didn’t deserve that, even if his wing-bound was a royal asshole.

Seonghwa retreats to his armoire, exchanging one article of clothing with another until he was dressed in his nightclothes and the previously worn were deposited into the basket at the bottom of the closet. Mingi’s eyes watched his every movement, head laying back down onto Yeosang’s chest. Every meticulous movement seemed to lull a weight over his eyelids.

“Seonghwa?”

“Yes, Min?”

Mingi shifts a bit, curling further into Yeosang’s side while the other man lets out a sleepy huff.

“Will… Will you tell me what happened?”

There’s an audible sigh in the dimly lit room, the oil lamp sitting on the nightstand on the opposite side of where Mingi laid hardly provided enough light to make out the shape of the older man. But it wasn’t needed, he was already at the foot of the bed, tired eyes looking softly at the way Yeosang slept and Mingi attached to his side like freshly tapped sap.

“No. It’s not important, go to sleep.” Seonghwa moved to the lamp, snuffing out the flame with a turn of the wick. The room fell into complete darkness.

Mingi feels the bed shift and the covers that are thrown over the two already tucked in are tugged a bit in the older man’s pursuit of comfort. He doesn’t want to drop the subject, curiosity gripping at him like his own hand on the handle of his less-than valued dagger.

“Seonghwa—“

“What?” His tone is spread thinly within the darkness.

“I just want to know—“

“I’m tired, Mingi. Please, snuff out your curiosities and go to sleep.”

It goes quiet again but there’s a tension feeding over an invisible bridge across Yeosang’s sleeping form. Mingi shifts a bit, raising his head and his hand from the chest he was using to rest on. He had to seek out Seonghwa in the dark. If he doesn’t, he’ll remain restless.

“No more questions, promise. But a kiss, perhaps?”

Seonghwa sighs, his eyes staring at the blanket of black obscuring where he knows the ceiling panels are. Mingi wasn’t such a simple creature, but he always asked for the simplest things when his grandeur was denied. It wasn’t like answering his questions would have been such a difficult task to do but Seonghwa couldn’t continue swishing around the bitter acid in his mouth that the situation put there just to appease his mate. But he could compromise.

Mingi waits patiently when he hears the bed move and the covers shift and the micro sensation of the older man’s body heat barely gracing the moth fuzz on his face. Plush lips meet plush lips in the dark, soft and warm and gentle in their caress. Mingi sighs, hand patting around blindly for any trace of Seonghwa’s skin to latch onto. But he comes up empty handed and Seonghwa retreats back into the unknown space on his side of the bed. Mingi can’t withhold the whine from his throat, lips tingling and craving more than was given.

“Good night, Mingi.”

His disappointment is swallowed in favor of returning back to Yeosang’s chest, staring absentmindedly into the dark where he hopes Seonghwa is laying.

“Good night.”

~

Hongjoong’s in the process of unbuttoning his shirt when there’s a round of steady knocks at the door. The pipe he had been smoking earlier hung lazily between clenched teeth, small puffs of smoke escaping with each noiseless exhale. He fingers a few papers sitting on the surface of his desk before giving a loud enough grunt when the knocking continues.

“Fucking enter or leave.”

The door creaks open and a figure slips in without a word.

“What’d you want? It’s late and I’m too tired to deal with anymore of your nonsense.”

Yunho leaned against the wood of the now closed door, watching his captain pluck a paper from the desk, give it a little aimless chuckle before balling it up and casting it off to the side where the roaring fireplace crackled with life. Clouds of smoke separated into a haze around the man’s head, spreading thin yet wide.

“Mingi’s not here?”

“Does it look like he is? Sent ‘im off to Yeosang’s bed for the night. Had things to do and couldn’t be bothered with a clingy little moth in my way.” Hongjoong doesn’t turn when he speaks, rather keeping his attention on the insignificant documents begging for his approval. He hated one-sided deals, most of which taking up space on the wood were just that. Bargains upon bargains in which he’d be given less than half any share. Might as well polish dirt.

Yunho pushes off the door and approaches with steady footsteps. He counts each one in his head— not too many to be mistaken for eagerness but none too little to give way of hesitation. Either one will be sniffed out by Hongjoong in a mere wings beat.

“Good. That’s… good.” The taller’s tone was his worst enemy. Even more was his audible swallow right after.

Hongjoong turned slowly, dark eyes immediately hooking into Yunho’s beaten skin. “Why’re you here, Yunho?”

“I just…” He falters, both in voice and steps. “I just want to help you get ready for bed. I know it’s been a rough turning of day for you.”

“Has it now? And I wonder whose fault that would be, hm?”

Yunho continues forward until he stands toe-to-toe with the man who had bludgeoned him in the brig just hours ago. The man he loves. The man he vowed to love until his wings ceased to function and the last of his days were under the moon’s watchful eyes. Hongjoong’s head tilted up, not by the distance of height but by the gentle finger beneath his chin. The pipe he had between his teeth was removed by the other hand belonging to Yunho and laid to rest atop the papers.

“Not entirely mine but I will admit my faults and make amends for my mistakes… if you’ll let me.”

Hongjoong betrays nothing of his thoughts, just stares without a word up at Yunho. He didn’t need to, not really. Yunho knew he was expecting him to do what he said he would, no point in barking out more orders. Moments like this are when the captain is the easiest to love. Fleeting as they are, but all the same.

Yunho’s finger drags slowly down and across Hongjoong’s jawline, dipping over the curve of it and further descending along the side of his neck.

But that is as far as he makes it, or rather that is as far as Hongjoong allows him to go. A strong grip latches onto Yunho’s wrist and wretches his touch away from the older man’s flesh. There’s something calculative in his eyes, like he was trying to figure out the best move to make. One that’ll be entirely in his favor.

“A bit bold of you to come in here and assume that you are forgiven just because you bat your pretty little eyes and whisper pitiful machinations at me. And touching,” Hongjoong shifts his hand to merely hold the same finger that trailed an unseen path along his skin, the padded tip peeking out from his curled fist. “Did I strike you so hard that you’ve lost all common sense? Are you stupid, Yunho?”

Yunho could only swallow, the lifeline he had held onto had grown slick within his hands and was sliding out of his hold faster than he could grasp. The ground beneath him would do him a proper service by opening up and swallowing him whole. Hongjoong watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, the sudden nervous shake of his eyes bringing a satisfied smile to his lips.

“Oh? Did you really think you could fool me, Yunnie?”

Wooyoung’s favored pet-name sounded completely wrong falling from Hongjoong’s curled little grin. Usually, it was bathed in a soft playfulness, a comfort akin to a favored blanket. But from the captains' lips did it sound uncannily saccharine, a false pretense of what it should be but rather a poorly placed mask. Yunho knew he was doing it on purpose, making it obvious that the endearment wasn’t spoken out of the same love that his wing-bound would have done.

“No, that’s not… that isn’t what I was trying to do. Truly, I just wanted to make amends for my carelessness during the mission and for the… not birdling situation.”

“Making amends would fall into the same grave as vying for forgiveness.” Hongjoong releases Yunho’s finger but quickly scoops up the same hand and guides it with an almost calm insistence to the buttons still holding his shirt together.

Yunho exhaled heavily, “Then let me do both. At once… together.”

One button, two buttons, three and four and the count got lost between wandering hands and pressed lips. Hongjoong had his arms thrown around Yunho’s neck, boots forced onto the toes and chest pressed bare to the taller man’s clothed torso. Yunho knelt slightly, knees cracking a bit under the stiff position to wrap one arm around Hongjoong’s waist while the other crawled under the back of the captain's shirt to grasp at his warm skin. Hongjoong always seemed to have a fire lit beneath his flesh. Never warm, never implicitly inviting. But hot, smoldering, luring anyone in who got close enough to the wild exuberance without being scorched to nothingness.

Yunho lifted the other like he weighed little less than a rucksack filled with spindles of worm-silk. Long legs crossed from the disoriented desk in the captain's office to the private sleeping quarters where the oak door riddled with the past gnawing's of termites eased shut by the heel of Yunho’s boot. Hongjoong had slithered a ringed hand into dark strands, fisting their softness until the younger groaned. A sound so satisfying that the captain just had to hear it again— and thrice more after that.

“Please— if you keep doing that, ‘m afraid my legs won’t be able to hold neither of our weight.”

“That so?”

Hongjoong had a salacious twinkle in his eyes, paired with the flush gracing his skin against the orange glow of the oil lamp nearby and the swollen pout swatched in a delicate red, Yunho could feel his knees giving small warning jitters that he was quite weak already.

But that didn’t matter, not when Hongjoong descended once again onto Yunho’s lips, rendering every single nerve ending in his scalp to the tips of his toes utterly useless. Tongues dipped and curled and tasted around the edges of teeth and across slimy gums, meeting in the epicenter of moisture ridden heat to undulate against one another until saliva rose like the entrapped water lurking far beneath the city of lights. Yunho set Hongjoong down at the foot of his bed, parting with an awfully wet smack that roped off into a tethered string attached to both of their lower lips.

Something in the way the captain looked at Yunho made him feel wanted in the worst of ways. Underneath long lashes was a beast in wait, teeth aching to sink into supple flesh and tear apart every inch of untouched soul.

“Finish your amending, Yunho.”

Had he been a stronger man, had he never left his beloved alone after the minor argument they had, choosing to stay and fix it rather than leaving Wooyoung to sleep on with heavy heart, had he chose to remain in that room instead of here with his mate looking up at him like he was just another object in his possession— realization that reconciling required more than just a prurient approach to mend the unstable situation between him and the captain would have kept his boots by the door of his own quarters. Instead, they were kicked off across the wooden floors of Hongjoong’s bedroom where another pair joined and the littering’s of leather, linen and cotton branched out to connect each article of clothing together.

Hongjoong’s soft moan fades into a breathy laugh, head knocked back while Yunho’s lips birth irregularly shaped bruises across the column of his throat. In his lap was the barest form of Hongjoong, sweat spread lightly over the curves and contours of his body lit aglow by the oil lamp. Yunho could almost swap out the horrible man from the brig with this erotically lust-drunk creature swaying atop of his cock. In a way, this was a completely different person. Someone who reflected his most vulnerable state without hindrance, unashamed of the whines and eyerolls and desperate pleas for more and more and more.

“Does he know you are here? Fucking me, warming my bed while his remains cold. What a— oh fuck— what a terrible lover you are.” Hongjoong’s at his ear, enticing moans intertwined with salacious commentary. But it was true, Yunho left Wooyoung to sleep alone after another petty squabble to come here and bury his cock in their captain. The same one that held no mercy when bludgeoning his face and torso. It was wrong to not care but the man didn’t, not for his wing-bound, not for himself.

Yunho’s hips bucked upward in a round of steady jolts, cock sheathing to the hilt from a halfway point that left the remaining length inside of Hongjoong. He couldn’t really part from him, a note of possessiveness of having his captain under his large warm hands, in the cradle of his arms and impaled on his member. Not even the reminder of the bruises on his face, the swollen mess of his eye or any of the cuts and splits of his flesh could compare to the throes of passion he was drowning himself in. All for Hongjoong, all for his beloved captain.

~

You swivel away from Jongho like he had held a lit cigarette against the back of your arm, nearly slamming into the entrance frame of the corridor. He looked at you then at San and then to the plate of food sitting untouched on the table.

His head tilts and a pout tugs his lips forward, “Not eating? Better not let captain find out.”

“He won’t. Not unless you keep your mouth shut.” San was stiff, eyeing the sudden appearance of his mate like he came bearing all sorts of wicked omens.

Jongho’s gaze flits back to San, his wing-bound, and the stirrings of something mischievous flutter within his chest. Oh, how he loved to see his beloved bothered, teetering on the fine edge of glass by his own hand. Nothing soothed his soul more than knowing that he was upset by his presence, his meddling.

“Are you threatening me? Your mate?” His attention drifts to you, pressed tight against the dining hall entrance. “Can you believe that we are bound both by soul and the very blood pumping us alive? You’d think with the way he speaks to me that he hated me. Isn’t that interesting?”

You had nothing to say, and even if you did it wasn’t like the situation would be proper enough to spit it out. Jongho looked at you like how an unruly child looks at a shiny new toy, the promise to yank and pull and handle without any sort of care gleaming within his round eyes.

“Why are you here?” But San wouldn’t let a second of barely held control slip further from his fingers.

The question makes the younger’s eyes roll, having heard enough of it all-hours in passing. Was he not allowed to be anywhere, around anyone? For fucksake he felt like a fly stuck against the sticky tassels from above— the thought halts and the stirring in his chest amplifies.

Once again, you are in his sights. “Didn’t you say you were from above?”

How he knew that was beyond you, a detail within a conversation you didn’t have with him let alone anywhere near him. It causes an uneasy feeling to creep along the back of your neck, like the tips of spindly fingers just barely catching against your skin.

“I didn’t— not to you.”

Jongho looks contemplative, eyes adverting to an undisclosed spot on the ceiling. San takes the short opening to draw near, close enough that he could reach a full arm's length towards you and the fabric of his gloves would brush against your arm. A butterfly effect almost ensues, you, having seen the movement, tries to sidestep further away which immediately captures Jongho’s attention once again and upon seeing his lover attempting to grow closer, makes the decision to suddenly grab a hold of you all the easier.

“Running off so soon? And without having your dinner that was not only prepared just for you but also carried all the way here, so you had someplace to eat that wasn’t on the floor.” You shudder in his surprisingly constrictive grasp, leaning away when every word he spoke into your ear was accompanied by a blow of warm air. “Maybe you should have it on the ground, yeah? I’ll tip every last bit of it for you to lick up like those beasts running wild up above. You know, the ones that howl at the moon.”

“Jongho.”

San’s warning tone did nothing to the younger man, rather Jongho seemed to ignore him altogether.

You writhe around like a cat caught by the scruff, legs kicking back and nailing any part of his legs that you could land. There’s a gathering of spit in your mouth, and surely if you stood where San was then you’d appear to be frothing as if ridden by rabies.

“Let me go! Let me fucking go you crazy piece of shit!”

“What a mouth you’ve got there. But if you insist. Have it your way.” Jongho releases his hold right when both of your legs are kicked up into the air, unceremoniously dropping you onto the floor. You hiss at the pain shooting up from your backside, but it doesn’t compare to the sudden hand carding through your hair and fisting the matted and dirty strands at the roots.

Jongho yanks your head back, peering down at you like a child would when stumbling across a funny looking bug. His smile is disarming, rounded cheeks and small little squared teeth with plenty of pink gums. You scowl, trying to ignore the fact that your head was throbbing from the source of his hand.

“I don’t think those beasts can talk. Should I help you with that as well?” He thinks for a moment, “Maybe some other time. Right now, you should have your supper. Come along.”

The man takes a step forward and with the next one proceeds to drag you by the hold he has on your hair, treating it like a leash on a dog. You curse, hands immediately flying up to his own, scratching and digging into his skin in hopes that he would let go. But he didn’t, rather he would pull and tug you along while you fought with what little energy you have left. Your feet were useless, not having enough grip to dig into the floor. San watches on silently, jaw clenched, and fists balled at his sides. He knew he should step in, make his beloved cease his torment but a part of him that kept his boots rooted reminded him of your disobedience and apathetic behavior towards him and his mates.

Jongho stopped at the side of the table where your food sat, untouched (only slightly) and probably cold. With his unoccupied hand, he takes the plate with the bowl and topples it over onto the ground. Vegetables, mush and congealed soup with meaty bits splatter across the wood, even so much as splashing onto your jeans. You can’t flinch away with the grip still wedged within your hair.

“Isn’t that better? Now you can properly enjoy your meal as intended. I’ll even assist you further.”

Another strong yank and your head is brought face-to-face with the spilled slop, hands slipping through the soup to try and keep yourself from face planting into it. But that wasn’t good enough for Jongho. No, he wanted to see you pressed into the mess you’ve created by being ungrateful. His hand lets your hair go and relief is immediate, enough to have you sighing. But you realize rather quickly (or maybe not as quickly as you wished) once you begin to raise your head away from the floor that you’ve made a wrong move.

“Uh-uh, down you go.”

Something hard collides with the back of your head and sends it slamming into the food riddled ground. Your face is squashed onto its side and whatever it was that hit you remained pressed to your head, keeping it pinned in place like one does to a specimen.

“Get— off—“

You claw at the wooden panels beneath like it would help but it only caused your fingertips to burn.

“What was that? Shouldn’t you be eating?”

Jongho’s boot presses more firmly down against your head, the sound of your muffled cry bringing a satisfied smile to his lips. San couldn’t watch anymore, head cast down and to the side, your wet pleas for help-like nails on a chalkboard. You felt humiliated, like a dog who’s pissed on the floor after holding it for far too long, knowing that the action will only lead to trouble and the consequence for it is to be shoved face-first into the yellow puddle while harsh obscenities are thrown like darts at a dartboard.

“Please— ‘M sorry— I won’t do it again—“

What exactly won’t you do again? Refuse to eat? All of this just because you were cautionary against your captors. Is that not normal behavior after being forced against your will by strangers to god knows where? It’s not like any of them have been particularly welcoming, if anything you could probably count on both hands the amount of threats they’ve spewed at you and on your toes the actual physical harm they’ve done. This was madness, and all because you didn’t trust them or their intentions (which were made blatantly clear by that bastard captain).

“Sannie? What are you— Jongho, what the fuck are you doing?!”

San lifts his head just as Jongho turns his, both meeting Wooyoung’s wide eyes from the dining hall entrance. He was a bit disheveled with sleep still clinging to his nightwear and ruddy cheeks. His hair was mussed into a messy nest with strands sticking out here and there. But his eyes, despite clearly having just woken up, were more awake than the rest of him.

~

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sosorry.”

After cleaning up the kitchen for the night (and whipping up an extra plate for the not-birdling), Wooyoung dragged himself to his shared quarters where he hoped Yunho would be waiting. There was much to be said but when he opened the door and saw his wing-bound sitting on the edge of their bed, beaten black and blue the only words he could get out between the sudden onset of sobs is ‘I’m sorry’. Yunho welcomed the hold of his lover with his own awaiting arms, both wrapping each other in an embrace that spoke far more than words could. There was love, reassurance, guilt and forgiveness.

And what didn’t pass through their mutual holding was exchanged in fleeting kisses— one pressed here and there, a little chaste, a bit of teeth, soft, soothing, adoring. It happened between the shedding of Wooyoung’s clothing and his redressing, tender and gentle. But Yunho didn’t escape from his own attire, refusing when the younger tried to undo the ties on the front of his trousers.

“You… You aren’t staying, are you?”

Wooyoung hated the bitter feeling clawing at the back of his throat. Even more when Yunho’s eyes adverted while he excused himself to instead fluff the pillows on Wooyoung’s side of the bed. Even after all of sediments shared, his mate was still planning on being anywhere that wasn’t with him.

“Just going for a short walk. Seeing if, you know who, is still down in the brig.” Yunho avoids every attempt that Wooyoung makes to make eye-contact until he grows restless enough to let out a strained laugh.

“Seriously? You never care about anyone who ends up there.”

Yunho runs a hand through his hair, a bit out of nerves and a bit out of frustration. “She wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for us. There’s a difference between that and the slugs that wish to do us harm that end up in those cells.”

Wooyoung frowns. He knows Yunho is making up a lie to where he is actually running off to, almost like he knows that if he revealed his true intentions the younger would throw a fit.

Seeing his beloved growing upset causes Yunho’s face to soften. He hated keeping things from Wooyoung, giving half-truths and evasive answers but if his wing-bound knew that he was planning on sharing Hongjoong’s bed tonight (even without the captain himself knowing) than Wooyoung would put up a fight that would probably bring the walls down in their shared space.

“Youngie—”

“I hate that you feel like lying to me is the best thing for you to do.” He looks at Yunho with an unreadable expression, one that makes Yunho wince. “I know you better than anyone else does, better than you know yourself, Jeong Yunho.”

Wooyoung buries himself under the covers of their bed, back turned to his mate out of pettiness. Yunho winces again at the use of his full name, very rarely was it ever used especially by his beloved. Perhaps it was a mistake to leave and seek out the danger in the dark but deep down he wanted to taste that heat, that fire promising nothing but to consume and ruin him into nothing.

Hesitantly, Yunho bends over the bed with one knee sunken into the mattress, to place a soft apologetic kiss to the side of Wooyoung’s head. No words are exchanged further, and Yunho is gone behind the closing click of their private quarter's door. Wooyoung lays in the quiet stillness until it bears down on him too much for him to handle. The tears bubble and flow down his skin and soak into the neckline of his sleep shirt and pillow, some even slipping between his parted lips as he sobs uncontrollably into his hands.

He wept and wept and wept until his tears soothed him into a sluggish slumber, the only comfort he had, the only thing that would remain stuck to his skin even after he aroused an indiscernible amount of time later. Still alone and still crying.

Perhaps he should go for a walk himself. Clear his head of his heartache, banish away the somber thoughts for the night.

~

Wooyoung’s eyes flit from San to Jongho to you, with your face still squashed against the spilled food and floorboards, boot heavy against your head.

“Wooyoung, what are you doing awake?” San looks over Wooyoung, from the tear trails staining his skin to the puffiness lining his eyes. He quickly drew the conclusion that his mate had been crying, something that bothered him immensely.

“Me being awake isn’t important— what the hell are you both doing to her? Jongho, remove your fucking boot from her head!” Wooyoung rushes over to Jongho, socked feet shoved into wonky looking slippers that have most definitely seen better days. That’s all you could see, were his slippers.

Jongho pouts when Wooyoung shoves him away, his boot removed from your head. You let out a shuddered sigh, shakily pushing yourself up onto your knees. The feeling of cold soup and meat bits against the side of your face threatened to draw a gag out of you. Even the smell had gone pungent.

“Explain— one of you! Whatever the fuck this is, right now.”

“It’s nothing, Wooyoung.”

San’s failure to give an actual explanation only made the other man more upset. But why? It wasn’t like he owed you anything, not like you’ve been the most personable person since he and Yunho brought you here. Not even beforehand, had you displayed even an inch of niceness. But maybe his anger wasn’t from this ordeal, most of it had to have been from his squabble with Yunho. The sour feelings left on a bitter open edge. However, that wasn’t exactly right either. He was still angry with his beloved, but he was very much ticked off by what his other two mates were doing to you. Because despite him wanting to believe he really didn’t owe you anything, Yunho’s words from earlier did dust off the truth. You wouldn't be here if it wasn’t for them. You wouldn’t have been thrown in the brig or faced Hongjoong or forced under Jongho’s boot if it wasn’t for his baseless accusations.

He did owe you. Even if a little bit.

“Nothing? Do I look stupid to you? This clearly isn’t ‘nothing’.” Wooyoung turns with a hiss, eyes narrowed.

San looks away at that, a tinge of shame crossing his features. Maybe things did go too far, and he was too blinded by his own minuscule grudge to see that.

“It really isn’t that big of a deal. She refused to eat, so I gave her a warning. Could have been worse,” Jongho pauses, looking down at you with that passing gleam in his eyes. “Hongjoong could have found out and she’d be dealing with him… again.”

You scowl, lunging towards him with your hand balled into a fist. You’ve had enough— of him, of the rest, of Hongjoong, of this awful place, of the pit. Your momentum is sluggish enough for Jongho to evade with a casually sidestep and Wooyoung to grab ahold of your flying arm without hardly moving from his spot. Fuck, you were exhausted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t really care. But you will do yourself a favor and clean this shit up before Hongjoong finds out you’ve wasted food just to torment her.” Wooyoung hauls you up by your one arm and then maneuvers it to drape across his shoulders. You can’t find it in yourself to shove him away, like that last bit of reserved adrenaline had completely wiped you out.

“I didn’t waste—“

“Shut up. Mops in the closet over there with the bucket for water. Dry rags are on the second shelf.” Wooyoung turns away, barely acknowledging San as he passes.

“You’ve been crying.”

“You should probably help him.”

You keep your eyes downward as Wooyoung leads you out of the dining hall and down the corridor bathed in shadows. He takes a left and another left and a right and you wonder if you are in some kind of maze. But that’s probably just your exhaustion settling over your brain, a thick impenetrable blanket that ends up stealing away your consciousness before you realize. Wooyoung feels your weight suddenly grow heavier, enough to have him stumble a bit. He looks over at you to see your head bent forward uncomfortably and when he shakes you, it lulls to the side. You’ve fallen asleep or rather fallen unconscious under a dog pile of stress.

He sighs, shifts you around with the finesse of a baby caterpillar, hooking an arm under your knees and around your upper back. The position had to be uncomfortable if you were awake and for him, it definitely was looking at it, but it provided an easier means to transport you. Wooyoung hadn’t a single clue where you were to be sleeping for the night if things had turned out differently for you but for now, he was going to return back to his room with you cradled in his arms and hope that either you spare him your wrath when you wake up or Yunho— he bites the thought in half. No part of him wants to entertain anything pertaining to his wing-bound at the moment. If Yunho shows his face in the morning with an argument ready on his tongue than Wooyoung will gladly sever the muscle right in half.

Oh, those tears weren’t even worth shedding. Staining his skin and pillow, leaving behind the evidence of a breakdown worth absolutely nothing.

════════════════════════════════════

Masterlist

[sanazyung]

royjamie the bachelor au walk with me… roy who is on the show bc his mates submitted him as a laugh and jamie who is Headlining as the first Bisexual Bachelor. jamie only has eyes for roy since day one meanwhile roy wants to die every time the camera is trained on him. every other contestant hates roy. jamie sends home anyone who tries to tell him that roy is a prick. roy is trying desperately not to fall in love with jamie so that no one on (inter)national television sees him be vulnerable. there’s a date in amsterdam. a date where they play football. a date where they go bowling an all the other contestants try to get jamie to “teach them how to bowl with his arms around them” while jamie only cares about fucking beating roy. its jazz. its motown. its the vibrator on the bedside table. its the fucking royjamie reality tv bachelor fanfic you never knew you needed…

THIS is the fic i am working on now. sneak peak below the cut🙈

***

Jamie suppressed a laugh as Roy frowned at the word mate. He used the little crease between Roy’s eyebrows as a distraction for the way his stomach twisted itself in knots at the thought of anyone else knowing what he had just told Roy. Maybe that meant that he had made his choice. Maybe he had always known.

Well. One step at a time.

Jamie reached over the table to grab the rose where it had been carefully paid by the production team. He twirled it around in his fingers trying to find the right words to say. All of them felt too insignificant for what had just transpired between them.

“You–” Jamie coughed awkwardly, and started again. “Thank you for listening to me tonight. I’m glad I told you. And I would be honored to meet your sister and niece, yeah? If you’ll have me. I want that. I’m serious about you, and I want to get to know everyone who is important to you. Because you’re important to me.”

You mean the world to me, was stuck in his throat. I’m falling in love with you. I think I might be there already, and that terrifies me.

“Jamie,” Roy said. Nothing more, but Jamie supposed he had known him long enough now to know exactly what he meant, even in that one word. It was Roy saying yes, saying you too to whatever Jamie had left unsaid between them. Jamie’s hands were shaking as he lifted the rose between them.

“Please take it,” Jamie whispered. “I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t.”

Roy grunted, and it meant of course I will you fucking prick. Jamie beamed, and leaned over to pin the rose to Roy’s lapel. It looked fucking mint on him—it always did.

“Kiss me,” Jamie breathed, his hand still lingering on Roy’s chest. “Roy—”

Roy didn’t hesitate. He pulled Jamie up in one fluid motion, depositing him down onto Roy’s lap while Jamie let out a breathless squeak. It quickly divulged into a moan Jamie probably should be worried about being heard on camera, but Roy was kissing him too thoroughly for him to care about anything other than Roy’s beard scratching against his skin. His hand came up to cup Jamie’s face, thumb brushing tenderly across his cheeks where Jamie was fairly certain there were still tears. The action made him pull away, emotion in his chest threatening to make it burst.

“Roy,” the word was punched out of him, like he didn’t have a choice, like all that mattered in the world was that one syllable. Like there weren’t four other contestants still waiting for him back at the resort, like there was nothing between them but–

“Alright, you two,” Keeley’s voice cut him off, as she stepped out from behind the camera. “We have more than enough footage for this date, and it really is getting late. Roy needs to head back to the hotel and you, Jamie, have a decision to make before tomorrow.”