#anyway. i don’t know if the game actually gives enough of a shit about this to. talk about it. but like god i hope so.

[floral-hex]

fuck, I hate telehealth, but ya know, I think I’d actually like it if it was in minecraft instead of a video call. Let’s do therapy in roblox or something.

[quietwingsinthesky]

its like. i LIKE ezio!! and ezio wants to avenge his family and save people and destroy the group that led to all this harm!! but i know that he doesn’t!!!! the games keep going and the modern day segments are there and the war does not end with him!!!

ezio thinks he can end this war. and i know he doesn’t.

this is a tragedy.

[theatrevelyan]

Ok, big endgame spoilers for DAV but I need to scream into the void because I don’t think we stopped enough to talk about the fact that Lucanis literally stabbed a God, twice, and even killed her the second time.

He killed her.

Sure, he had help, and someone always dies to give him the shot, but do you understand how fucking big of a deal that is?????

Actions so important and plot relevant as that are usually reserved for the main character/protagonist of a game, especially in an rpg.

And here comes our little assassin, who we recruited to kill gods but who we all know, from a narrative standpoint, has no chance to actually deal the final blow, and he fucking deliveres.

We still get the big boss, sure, but he still got one. He defied narrative preconceptions and finished his contract.

How fucking metal is that?????

And can you imagine, once this is all over, how the other crows must see him? He was already a legend before and now he’s the crow that managed a successful contract on a freaking god.

Can you imagine the awe? The fear? The sheer terror his next target would feel knowing the man who killed a god is after them?

And if Rook is a crow the same goes for them!

The crows are already infamous, could you imagine how their reputation would skyrocket even more knowing that not just one, but possibly two of them managed to kill a god????

One might a fluke, an outlier among them (which Lucanis already is since he’s considered the best they have). But two?! It begins to be a pattern. Sign of skill and competence for the whole guild.

Caterina would love that shit. What better marketing strategy than “if need be, we can kill gods btw” could she get.

And can you imagine if crow Rook and Lucanis are romancing each other??? Who would dare to even think opposing the two assassins that literally killed gods??? Bet the usual crow shenanigans would stay clear of them.

Anyway I’m really normal about Lucanis.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Seven Minutes

luke castellan x reader

A/N: i was so excited to write this request as soon as i saw it so i hope you enjoy!

TW: smut, luke being a cocky little shit

word count: 1,172 words

Playing seven minutes in heaven is not an appealing idea to you. You don’t like the idea of being trapped in a closet with a guy who isn’t of your choosing and it isn’t some stupid kissing game that’s over in a second, but there is sadly no saying no to Silena Beauregard. Your friend is literally the embodiment of an Aphrodite child with her ability to persuade. For gods’ sake she actually has the word ‘beautiful’ in her name and everyone knows that someone with such a likeness to the love goddess isn’t someone that can be refused.

“There’s going to be lots of good looking people there I promise… Charlie, Clarisse… Luke.” Silena murmurs the last name.

“What?” You’re clearly pissed. She can hear it in your tone.

“What do you mean ‘what’?” She asks innocently.

“What was the last name you just said?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just listing people at camp who are objectively attractive.”

“Just objectively attractive or objectively attractive and playing seven minutes in heaven tonight?” You ask, giving her a pointed look.

“The second one.” She replies quietly.

“I’m not going if Luke is going to be there.” You tell her petulantly, stopping in your tracks like you’re going to turn around and head back to your cabin.

“So you did hear me.”

“I’m not going.” You start to walk back but she grabs your wrist.

“Yes you are!”

“I’m not. I hate him. I want him dead. I pray for his downfall on every quest he goes on.”

“All I can hear is that you spend a lot of time thinking about him.”

“Silena!”

“I’m sorry but if you think about it, all this hatred could just be pent up sexual frustration.”

“It’s not.”

“It could be!” She realizes that she isn’t anywhere close to getting through to you so she holds both your hands in hers. “Please just come. The bottle most likely won’t even land on him anyway. Just think about it as a fun night.”

“Fun night my ass.” You grumble but turn around and begin to walk back to the Aphrodite cabin. Silena giggles excitedly.

When you walk in, almost everyone of the older campers in Silena’s friend group are already there. Your eyes fall on Luke first and he gives you an annoying little smirk.

“Okay, now that everyone important is here…” Silena smiles before sitting down. Clarisse hands her an empty beer bottle. “I’ll go first.” She spins the bottle and grins when it lands on Charles. If your eyes aren’t deceiving you, you could swear Clarisse’s face drops for a millisecond.

The person next to Charles goes next, and then Clarisse goes and now, it’s your turn. You’re not really sure how it’s your turn already, but you aren’t about to argue with Silena over the spinning order. You look at Luke before you spin and he gives you another cocky smirk. You try to ignore him and spin the bottle, doing it perhaps a touch too hard because it goes in circles forever. When the bottle slows, it is clearly about to stop on some Apollo kid before it shifts a little more and lands on Luke.

What the fuck?

He looks away from a son of Boreas to you. “Up you get then, princess.” He stands.

You look at Silena with ‘help me’ eyes but she shrugs with a guilty grin. So now you’re walking over to Luke. He holds out a hand so he can lead you to the closet but you slap it away as you pass him. He turns on a dim light as you enter and shuts the door behind him.

“Look at my luck.” He says in a suave tone, holding his hands out like it was the gods’ bidding.

“Did you really bribe a wind god kid so that the bottle would land on you?”

“Perceptive.” He comments. “I was just lucky that I happened to be sitting North of you. So maybe it is the gods’ will.”

“You think it’s the gods will that we fuck in this closet?” You scoff.

“You said it, baby not me.” His right hand falls to your waist, gripping at your love handles. “But sadly, we don’t have enough time for me to fuck you properly.”

“Get your hands off me.” Your gaze is filled with a lot of passion. Whether that passion is lust or hate, he isn’t sure.

“Make me.”

When you don’t make him take his hands off you (which you most could) he takes that as a sign that you want him just as much as he wants you, so he pulls you in for a rough kiss. You hate how you kiss him back, whimpering into his mouth when you feel his hand slip up your thigh to rub you through your jeans. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he begins to make quick work of your zipper. Luke tugs your jeans down and chuckles at the sight of your lacy panties.

“Were you planning on getting screwed tonight or is this just coincidence?” 

“Shut up.” You murmur before forcing your mouth back against his.

He rubs you through your panties for a second but you both know you’re short on time so he slips them to the side, sliding his fingers through your arousal. 

“Gods, you’re so wet.” He whispers into your mouth before plunging two fingers inside of you, curling them in just the right spot. You whine softly, pissed at how good he is at touching you. He leans his head down and begins to kiss your neck. He suckles on the same spot for about a minute so he leaves a deep red mark. “Oops, left a little colour.”

“Luke!” You scold quietly and he begins to rub your clit with his thumb so you can’t think straight enough to say anything else.

“Just have to let people know who’s girl you are, princess.” He starts rubbing your clit a little harder. “Who’s girl are you?”

You’re feeling so good and you’re so close to your peak that you moan out, “Your girl.”

“That’s right. Cum on my fingers, baby.” He demands and you do right away, squeezing around his fingers as you get your release. “You better get dressed.” He says as he checks his watch. “You’ve got about 12 seconds before they open that door.”

He’s clearly amused as you struggle to get your pants back on in time but that doesn’t mean you don’t notice as he licks your cum off his fingers, moaning just a little bit.

“Times up, lovebirds.” One of the other Aphrodite girls says as she swings open the door.

You walk out as soon as she does and you don’t make eye contact with anyone as you storm out of the cabin.  

“We’re done with the game for today.” Luke says cockily as he quickly grabs both your jackets and chases you out the door for round two.

Silena grins. “I knew it.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween 

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

[bunni-v1]

Having a laugh at the thought of instead of Mistletoe, Outer Ring has a different tradition that instead of kissing under a mistletoe they fight(MistleFoe)

I imagine reader has no idea that their tradition is completely different from what most people know it as and is trying everything they can to catch Lighter underneath one, much to Lighter’s confusion(if he even notices readers attempts).

Once they actually end up underneath one, Lighter tries to protest the fight but is silenced as reader just grabs him and kisses him?? As reader pulls away Lighter just stares dumbfounded not really processing what happened, but once he does his whole face just flushes as he tries to keep his cool while also figuring out what that was for???(not that he’s complaining ofc)

That shit is so funny. Oblivious x Oblivious is my favorite honestly. It’s like an awful game of cat and mouse where he’s trying to outsmart and dodge you and you’re trying so hard to get him under the fucking mistletoe. You don’t even notice the pattern of fights going on around you, all you wanna do is kiss that stupidly handsome mug of his.

He’s good at dodging it when you’re around, not wanting to have to fight you. But god you’re making it so hard when you stalk him like a wildcat, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, only to be thwarted when he practically runs through doorways to avoid it. It kinda stings a little, because why wouldn’t he want to kiss you? Are you not good enough to kiss? It doesn’t deter you, but it does make your heart ache a little.

Meanwhile Lighter is so fucking confused as to why you want to fight him so badly. He thought things were going good with you two, why do you wanna catch him under the mistletoe? If you wanted to fight him you could just ask (he wouldn’t say yes), but why were you going about it in such a roundabout way? Your quirks were usually cute but this was just weird…

Unfortunately for Lighter, you always get your way with him. He allows himself to let his guard down for five minutes, and then your pulling at his sleeve with a smirk pointing up at the mistletoe. Since you technically won, he was going to give you what you wanted, albeit a little reluctantly. He didn’t know why you wanted to fight him so badly.

“Y’know, we don’t gotta do anything, this tradition is kinda stupid anyway,” He tries one last time to negate you, but you pout at him so cutely he can’t help but give in.

He turns to find a better place to tussle than the tiny doorframe of Cheesetopia, but you grab the edge of his jacket and tug him back. He has all of three seconds to be confused before you’re tugging him down for a sweet kiss. Not what he expected, but he wasn’t complaining as he kissed you back.

You leave him hot and bothered when you pull away, a self satisfied smirk on your face before you turn and saunter away. His face is bright red, and all he can do to calm himself is press his hand to his mouth and look at Kasa with a desperate “What the fuck?” kind of look.

She smiles at him, shrugging, “Maybe you should go after them…”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. For the first day of 12 Days of Christmas event in the X Reader Lovers community, prompt: Wish List! Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix

part i (wish list)

Tomura stares down at the blank piece of paper. It’s not totally blank. It’s – sparkly, just like the green and red pen with a pompom on it that Toga stuck in his hand. There’s a pattern around the edges, also green and red, of leaves and berries, and right at the top of the page, in curly letters, it says WISH LIST. Tomura doesn’t have a clue. He doesn’t even want to do this. He’s only doing it because Toga’s making him.

She’s staring at him right now. “Go away,” Tomura says. “I’m not writing it with an audience.”

“See, but if I leave you alone, you won’t write it at all,” Toga says, smiling. “It’s a Secret Santa, Tomura-kun. It won’t be any fun if you don’t write a good list.”

“It’s not going to be fun anyway, because I don’t want to do it.” Tomura shoves the piece of stationary back towards Toga. “Find somebody else.”

“Nope! Remember last year? You didn’t do it, and then you were mad all twelve days because everybody got gifts but you,” Toga says. She pushes the paper back towards Tomura. “Come on. It’s easy. Just put things on your list – not too expensive – and somebody who gets your list will leave them for you! Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“No,” Tomura says. Toga scowls at him. “I have to go shopping for somebody, too.”

Coming up with a gift list is bad enough. Waiting around to see if he’ll get presents – or even one present – from whoever got stuck with him is worse. But Tomura watched all of last year, saw all the effort everybody else put into their presents. Special hiding places, special wrapping paper. Last year Dabi got into an arms race with his younger brother and started leaving actual riddles for the person he was giving gifts to. Tomura’s not going to do any of that shit. Whoever he gets is going to be disappointed.

“I’m not doing extra shopping,” he says to Toga. “I’m out.”

“I’m organizing this year,” Toga says. So? “What if I get you somebody with a really easy list? Somebody normal who’s not going to ask for anything weird and who’s not going to get mad if you don’t set up a scavenger hunt.”

Tomura thinks about his friends, then his coworkers. “There’s absolutely nobody like that who works here.”

“Yes there are. You just don’t know about them, because they don’t do anything to annoy you,” Toga says. Her smile starts looking a little sharp around the edges. “Write the list.”

The sooner Tomura writes it, the sooner this will stop happening. He picks up the pen, sets it against the piece of paper, and hits an instant snag. “I don’t want anything.”

“Yes, you do,” Toga says. Tomura thinks about it, then writes something. Toga grabs the pen out of his hand and crosses it out. “No. It has to be a gift. Something you wouldn’t buy for yourself. Something nice.”

“For under ¥4000?” If Tomura wants something, he usually just buys it. “This is stupid.”

 “If you don’t have specific things you want, just write down things you like,” Spinner suggests on his way past with a stack of copies. “Like say – video games, dogs, candy, energy drinks –”

“I’m not letting him put energy drinks on his Secret Santa wish list,” Toga says. Spinner shrugs and keeps walking. “That’s not a bad idea, Tomura-kun. Write the kind of things you like, and then your Secret Santa can find things like that for the right price.”

Fine. Tomura gets the pen back from Toga and writes: video games, dogs, candy – “More specific,” Toga instructs. Tomura scowls and adds parentheticals. “See, that’s perfect! Was that so hard?”

“Yes.” Tomura lets Toga have the list, then takes it back again a second later. “I need to add something.”

It’s only a sentence, and Toga reads it out loud, looking all kinds of skeptical. “I hate the cold, so I don’t want any let-it-snow shit. Wow, Tomura.”

“You said to be specific,” Tomura says. “Are we done?”

“Yes!” Toga folds Tomura’s list into a quick origami heart, then tucks it into her pocket. “This will be fun! You’ll see. You won’t regret it.”

She leaves without the stupid Christmas pen. Tomura tosses it after her and flops forward on his desk, regretting it already.

part 2 ->

[caitlinbueckers]

ok Ik you said Pazzi fic in studio but will never get the idea of Paige calling azzi mamas out of my head so just felt like I needed to share an idea for a blurb or to include in anything you write PAIGE CALLINF AZZI MAMAS

anon ur a genius but i am simply a fool who took this prompt and then ran with it and turned it into a random oneshot soooooo i apologize for the minimal use of ‘mamas’ but hope u like it anyway and will implement that in all my writing deadass

pet names.

paige bueckers/azzi fudd.

2.8K.

kinda bullshit rambling but a lil more of a structure to follow???

minimal nsfw so 18+ as fuck

Wait guys let me know how u rly feel bcuz im not suuuper happy w this one

at first, it’s a subtle change.

it’s not like paige is ever actually serious enough for her words to be taken to heart or with any ounce of meaning behind it— she’s a fucking idiot, and azzi was more than well aware of her incessant antics, and the fact that she just played too much.

so, of course it surprises her, but she can’t say it really means anything, until it does.

it’s funny to azzi, really, when recently, all of a sudden, paige will get caught up in her usual tangents that she’s started letting these random, little pet names slip from her lips, mouth moving so fast, almost as if she barely meant it, could barely even call it out herself.

it happens usually when they’re tired— or, at least when azzi’s tired, and paige is excited. sweat clinging to the back of azzi’s neck, her curls drawing up and away from the edges of her hairline, skin flushed and hot to the touch when paige is suddenly breezing past her. she’s somehow still in a jog despite the rigorous drills they’d done, oblivious to the redness of her face or the plastered strands of blonde hair against her forehead. she’s at the tail end of a conversation with KK, still grinning like a fool about whatever they must’ve been chattering about, yelling out some type of phrase or joke that only those two could conjur up.

azzi’s right eyebrow is already lifted, somehow already suspicious and unimpressed of her intentions when paige is launching straight into a new conversation, cheeks still pink and teeth on display as she skips backwards to keep her eyes on azzi.

“i think me an’ KK are ‘finna go play 2K when we get back to the dorms— i told her ass she doesn’t stand like, a single chance when I’ve been on my grind, and she don’t believe me, like, baby, you know i’ve been on that shit,” she clicks her tongue, rolls her eyes before she’s smacking azzi’s arm, giving her a sneaky grin, one that signaled whatever she was offering was really gonna be a delight, (it never was), “you should come chill. you don’t gotta play if you don’t want, you can always be my lil’ cheerleader.”

it wasn’t like her high energy, rapid movement behavior was anything unusual, but that little, barely missable word was.

baby. it rolls off her tongue like it’s been waiting around the whole time, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. she says it with an ease of comfort she can’t necessarily place, and azzi doesn’t necessarily hate it, but it’s there, nonetheless.

it momentarily stunts her, but azzi still finds herself smiling— not from any type of fluster or flush miraculously, but one that she usually gives paige when she’s amused by her, eyes wide and exaggerated as she huffs out a chuckle. “that sounds… boring, honestly.” but, she’s laughing at the gape on paige’s face anywa, “i need to shower, dude, i don’t wanna watch video games.” she scoffs, before she grins at her, only because she knows it’ll piss paige off.

and it does, so, of course the walk out to the parking lot is filled with a whole lot of, ‘oh my god, bro, you’re so lame.’ or, ‘like, azzi, you can have a turn ‘forreal, like just come over for like, deadass a second.’

ultimately, and unsurprisingly enough, paige ends up getting her way. though, she’ll swear it’s only because azzi takes her shower, does some homework and is in the middle of taking out her braids when the word hits her again, and again, and again.

babybabybaby.

she can’t really blame the way she rolls her eyes despite herself. her and paige had been close for fucking ever, so there wasn’t necessarily much between them that was off limits, but it still resonated within her as something azzi couldn’t just brush off. whether that was more damaging than pretending it never happened, she didn’t have a single clue.

all she did know, was that paige bueckers got her way entirely way too much. so much so, that azzi has to let out an audible groan reserved only for paige, before she texts that she’s on her way over.

and yeah, whatever, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if it was just a one-off, or if maybe their friendship wasn’t so fucking complicated in the first place.

but then, it does matter, because it doesn’t stop happening.

when paige is frustrated at her homework, sitting plainly with her legs at full extension in the study room with aaliyah, ice, and azzi, it leaves her lips in a huff of exasperation, “azzi, babe, this shit really makes no sense, swear.” even if she’s saying it in the voice that clearly states she hasn’t attempted it for nearly long enough to proclaim she doesn’t get it, “az, can you please just come check it out.” azzi can’t tell what’s worse; the fact that paige had said it, or the fact that nobody had even looked surprised that she did.

or when they’d gotten dressed for media day, everyone milling about as they try not to wrinkle their uniforms or crease their concealer, it’s paige (and eventually nika and aaliyah) that whoops and hollers during azzi’s solo pictures, something like, “yeaaaah princess! nation’s best, babyyyyy! work that shit!” followed by a series of whistles that sounded so off pitch it makes azzi snort, rolling her eyes as she purposely avoids the gaze that paige so obviously wants to capture, teetering at the edges of azzi’s peripheral with a grin so wide it threatens to make her blush.

and, she swears she doesn’t, and instead turns back to the photographer with cheeks only a touch pinker than they were previously, “sorry— can we do that again?”

really, the only time she’d ever allowed herself to actually enjoy it, was on the last night at the hotel after a game. it couldn’t have been later than two or three in the morning, paige and azzi having spent the majority of it whispering beneath the covers, anything to not wake up the two other girls asleep in the other double bed.

it’s not too bad, having to share beds— except that, paige is a chronic cuddler and azzi would rather sleep on the shitty futon than be subjected to paige’s unrelenting weight against her back, or her arms slung lazily over her, but it was because of that precise position that azzi could even hear the words when she says it.

“mmmh-,“ she hums tiredly first, speaking mostly out of her ass, like paige always did when got too tired and let herself start rambling “night, pretty girl.”

it’s soft, and sort of raspy— the way paige gets when she’s been screaming all night on the court, and azzi can really only tell by the amount of ibuprofen that she’d downed before bed being somewhat more than her usual, that she’s probably got a headache. it’s a voice she uses when she’s being sincere.

the quiet sentiment, however insignificant to anyone else, replays in her mind. almost like a secret. almost like the closer she keeps it to her chest, the harder it’ll be to lose it.

it makes her whole body warm all over.

her response comes a few beats later, when she’s sure paige has drifted, and nothing but her measured breath is puffing against azzi’s neck, heard only between the two of them.

“night, p.”

but then, suddenly, everything sort of changes. azzi doesn’t know when this part happened— maybe it’s between the time she kisses her at that bar, tipsy and too close, unaware of the camera that set the internet aflame, and now, where it was customary that paige did homework with her, or ate dinner with her or slept over all the time. perhaps, it’s one selective moment in the chaos between that had suddenly transformed paige’s subtle casualty of the pet names, to something more intimate. more for them, rather for anyone else.

or, maybe it was exactly where they knew they’d end up all along.

it’s after a night out, after neither of them had ever really questioned how this had became their routine. that now, it had become something unspoken, an inherent rule that was followed without it needing to be stated. that, when they got too fucked up with the team, and the ubers were being ordered, azzi and paige always went together, that the address would always end up being paige’s dorm, and that azzi would always be curling into purple sheets by the time she sobers up enough to sleep.

but, she’s not sober. she’s drunk, and her face is flushed hot, sticky with the bar atmosphere. “paige, you’re making me too hot.” azzi complains with an impatient lilt to her voice, lifting her right shoulder up to her neck as if to shrug paige off, but the girl is relentless, humming her denial as she slid a hand across azzi’s thigh, grasping it hard enough that her nails dug into the skin there.

“psh, you’re already hot, shut up.” the words are spoken clumsily, lips brushing against the bare skin of azzi’s shoulder with each word, while a sudden surge of annoyance and somehow gratitude courses through azzi for having worn a sleeveless top, “c’mere, mamas, ‘lemme lay on you.”

she’s being whiny, and it only makes azzi roll her eyes before her gaze flickers to the screen of the car, giving her another light elbow prod, only this time, a short, sneaking smile is crossing her face. “paige, ‘forreal, we’re about to be back anyway.”

this, somehow, only fuels her. “i’m wounded,” she complains, before she’s pressing a little smack of a kiss to azzi’s neck, “my girl’s so mean to me, shit.”

my girl.

what the fuck ever.

azzi should’ve demanded an explanation then, but she doesn’t.

in fact, there’s not an explanation waiting for them when they stumble into paige’s room, their hands in a tight grasp, pulling each other in so that they can both fall against the bed, and azzi really shouldn’t have been expecting one. it’s definitely not explained when they’re somehow under the blankets, and paige has an arm, long and lean, wrapped around azzi’s waist to end somewhere between her legs, fingers finding a rhythm that seems to pull the very air from azzi’s lungs.

it’s not what azzi was expecting to happen, and yet somehow they’d fallen into place like it something they’d done a million times. paige had undressed her, after azzi’s complaint of still feeling too hot, and paige— not even a singular bit sober— finds her hands along the bottom of azzi’s top, tugging it over her head before she tosses her an old basketball camp shirt that had been slung across her dresser.

“you gonna sleep in jeans?” is really what had started it, paige’s pointed tone making azzi’s face burn hot, but the smirk on her face never faltered. “you’re so annoying.”

because then, paige has her fingers hooking into azzi’s waistband, eliciting a string of giggles that escape because fuck, she’s ticklish and paige knows. “what? what am i doing?” the blonde is grinning too, snickering under her breath as azzi’s pants are yanked down her hips, kicked from her feet with minimal effort until azzi feels it. a featherlight kiss was placed to each of her scarred knees, the inside of her thigh, eyes flickering up to azzi’s hazy but steady gaze, “this okay?”

god, azzi hadn’t realized until just then how fucking okay it was.

it���s quiet, sensual even, the way that paige talks her through it— heel of her hand dragging endlessly against her swollen clit, fingers thick as they arched into her, teeth grazing the back of azzi’s shoulder with each word of encouragement.

“c’mon, mamas, jus’ like that.” had anyone known better, they’d think paige must’ve been getting off just to this, by the way her own voice hitched and caught, her own hard swallows that reverberated in azzi’s ear, each laced with little gasps as she plunged into her wetness.

but, azzi did know better— paige was absolutely getting off to it. her voice is all breath, crackling and barely audible, murmuring incoherent mumbles that make it almost incomprehensible to decipher, yet, azzi swears she can understand.

it’s in her ear, over and over, that heat and pressure between her legs building as her hips twitched involuntarily against her knuckles, feels the way they slide deeper within her and azzi lets out a noise that even she’s too embarrassed to recount. “fuck, i wanna hear that shit, need to hear you baby, please.”

it coaxes the orgasm straight from azzi’s core, thighs involuntarily squeezing around paige’s hands, to which the blonde is silent in muted awe. she watches with bleary eyes but bated breath, sitting up only a bit to really witness it. the way azzi’s face drew up, eyebrows furrowed and lips parting, the whimper edged breaths that huffed out of her, the tight clamping of her eyes shut.

“so fucking pretty,” each word is punctuated in a kiss, “so good.”

really, it should’ve been a lot worse for them the next morning. azzi can’t help the wave of a ground shaking realization she gets when she rolls over to inspect paige’s sleeping expression, lips slightly parted, her blonde hair mussed on the pillow behind her. there should’ve been some type of lingering awkwardness that hung above them, some type of trepidation or fear, maybe even regret.

it definitely wasn’t like they talked about it, but they’d also never quite gone this far. did they need to? probably, because azzi knew that the guilt would probably hit sooner or later.

in fact, azzi waits for it to hit, all the way until paige wakes up, and her eyes are a little puffy, watery blue and clear as she blinks up blearily at azzi like she’s the finest thing she’s ever laid eyes on (because she is), and whispers with a grin, “distracted by my beauty?”

she waits even until the next away game, when her legs are propped up over paige’s lap and her fingers are drumming absently against azzi’s thigh, humming something in her headphones with her eyes shut, looking like a complete idiot, before their eyes meet by chance when paige opens them, and suddenly, they’re both grinning.

she even waits for it to hit when the buzzer goes off after the fourth quarter of that game, an easy win, and confetti is thrown. it’s chaos really, with all the girls rushing through the tunnel to get back to the lockers. that is, until, paige pulls her aside for half a second, hidden away from the hungry eyes to press a solid, sweet kiss to her lips.

but it doesn’t end there. azzi waits for it during her injury, when enough nights in linoleum covered white floors with the constant smell of antiseptic start to pierce the inside of azzi’s brain, ruins her attitude enough that paige’s texts go unanswered. and yet, everytime azzi wakes up, the pain in her leg flared and angry, it’s paige that’s sat in the corner of the room, huddled under a shitty hospital blanket, waiting for her to wake up.

it went even as far as the loss against IOWA when the roles are reversed— after the excitement of final four had became real, after the grueling, rampant preparation, and then ultimately, a loss. it’s when azzi gets permission to stick around in paige’s hotel room until she gets back from the game, and the way that the blonde, finally in the safety of the four walls, found herself crumbling to azzi, becoming nothing but a shell of what everyone perceives her to be, everything paige wishes she fucking wasn’t.

it’s only then, that azzi finds herself returning the favor— arms wrapped tight around paige’s waist with a burning, sting in her own eyes that she can feel the moment she sighs against the crown of paige’s head. she can smell the sweat, the smell of a basketball court that had just gotten waxed, but really, azzi just smells paige, and that’s enough to give her the composure she needs to whisper against her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself, baby… you guys did so good.”

and they don’t talk about it, because they don’t need to. the same way they never had to ask the other when it came to the hospital or bus rides or homework dates or hotel rooms— it was unspoken, implied but never mentioned. the same way back when they’d met at USA camp, it was never a matter of conversation for their plays to work, it was all in the matter of a look, or a slight of hand.

and when the team starts asking, giving paige shit about how she’s missing video game nights with KK or azzi’s getting shit about caroline missing her study partner, everybody already knows. when paige tells nika, voice only a little timid as she gives her a condensed version of the last few months like it was a ground shaking news, head tilted to lean on the older girls shoulder, the brunette bursts into laughter. ‘finally, took you guys long enough.’

and really, it was a wonder they hadn’t been like this the whole time.

a wonder that it had taken this long in the first place.

[salmonskinrolltf]

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

[angelgoeslewd]

Omegaverse Alpha!Chuuya, Dazai, and Ranpo Headcanons

⚠️ warnings: 18+ concepts and scenarios, Minors DNI! Omegaverse, GN!reader, mentions of heats and ruts, slick, knots, and sexual/explicit scenarios.

[Fyodor and Nikolai here!]

Chuuya

ARE U READY TO BE THE WORLD’S MOST SPOILED OMEGA??? :D ‘CAUSE BABY- YOU ARE!!!

Chuuya knows that he can be very absent in your relationship, both physically, mentally, and emotionally. But that doesn’t stop him from always trying to make up for it!!! Unlike OTHER ALPHAS-

Chuuya is honestly probably the best Alpha you can have. He’s very sweet!! He worships you, he’s caring towards your needs, sympathetic to any issues you have, will absolutely spoil the shit out of you, protective in all the right ways, very stable financially — the list goes on and on. However… it is extremely hard to break down his walls and actually GET to the point where you two are in a committed relationship. Between his trust issues and being a literal executive for the MAFIA- he isn’t the type to fall in love very fast or very easily. He wants to be. He romanticizes love to an extreme; but he cannot bring himself to actually relax and let down his walls in order to experience it. Basically, you gotta fight for this boy, but it is oh so worth it.

I know most people probably think you have to manage dancing around his outbursts and anger issues but honestly? Those are for people who Are Not You™️. You do have to talk him down from crushing the Alphas who mention you in the wrong sort of light to death, however.

They end up dead anyway. Yeah you really kinda have to be morally grey to date this man. And that might be a deal breaker for some. While I see a lot of fics talking him out of the dangerous life of the Port Mafia and having him settle down, I really don’t see that as a viable option. One, I firmly believe that Chuuya sees his place in the Port Mafia as one he’s earned, all by himself, without relying on anyone and proving himself worthy. The emotional ties to his job alone make it hard for him to even consider leaving. Two, even with all the danger, Chuuya prides himself on being able to keep you safe despite all of that. You will never be taken. You will never be used. He keeps you close enough so that you are technically protected, but far enough removed that you cannot be a pawn in this sick twisted game that Mori plays. And… it’s kinda stable for him. For you. A generous income that leaves you leaves you flush and living lavishly beyond your wildest dreams. He can’t give that up. So really, you have to be ok when he ends up having to murder a few people for his job. Not that you would know about it first hand. And he’s never malicious. He has his own moral code that will never be broken.

Heats???? Ruts??? This man will shower you in whatever you want during that time. No matter what, he will always be there for you. Uninterrupted personal time with Chuuya. His Omega always comes first. He is such a generous lover too. He’ll knot you as many times as you wish. He’ll make you breakfast in bed and make sure you hydrate. Loves eating you out until you’re begging for his knot, ass up and face down. Give you all his clothes for the nest you make. He’s so in tune with his Omega that his ruts will line up with your heats very early on in the relationship, so you might want to invest in child-prevention or otherwise both you and him will be looking at parenthood. 😳 He wouldn’t mind that. Considering how long it would take for you to get to that point… but he wouldn’t let you know that.

Dazai

Honestly, I love this man ok? He was my first BSD love and he’ll always have a place in my heart because of that. But my god. He is an absolute horrible Alpha.

Dazai himself is very guarded. He loves to have an air of nonchalance, but that’s all it is. An image. He is a fortress of walls that will never truly come down, unlike Chuuya, who eventually lets you in fully. Considering his past and his experiences, being able to break through a few of those will be a victory. Dazai, on the other hand, needs a partner who is okay with never truly knowing his own desires. A partner who’s ok with always being held at an arm’s length, because Dazai feels like if he loves you too much, something bad will happen.

Not only the emotional distance, but a physical one too. Dazai loves to be touchy, but at home, he also needs time to regenerate his own physical stimulation. It might be strange to some that he seems more affectionate and physical in public, but Dazai wants to trust you. He wants to feel comfortable enough to not always be what he feels like he should be. He might come off as cold or even uncaring, but he just needs time, no matter how much he loves you. And trust me, it will pay off.

And we also have to consider his job. Unlike Chuuya, who’s rather stable in his self-image and work life, Dazai almost is like Ranpo in a sense, where he feels like something bad will happen if he’s not available to ADA at every second of the day. Unlike Ranpo, Dazai cannot shirk these feelings or his duty, even though he basically goes in and does absolutely nothing all day. Mentally, he’s there. Thinking up solutions and plans without speaking a word of it. He needs to be there to get ahead, to minimize casualties, no matter how much Kunikida helps out. There will be many times you spend a heat alone, or Dazai will have to rush out to go to work during one of them.

Buttttt that’s not to say he’s a selfish lover. He is, in fact, a very, very good one. Not only through experience, but in creating a sort of intimacy that makes you feel like he’s all there. Even if he isn’t. Which, again, is sort of shady of him. 🙄 But honestly? His dirty talk is top notch. During the heats that he goes to work, he’ll talk you through the time that he isn’t there. Much to your embarrassment.

Dazai’s favorite thing is to feel you clench around his knot. He loves making you so horny that all you can do is beg him to knot you and scream his name or his title. It’s a moment that he can just forget everything, his past, his current situation, and just be with you. He loves being your Alpha and does wish he could be a better one, but that’s just not him. 100% keeps a pair of your slick stained panties in his pocket. Disgusting man.

His ruts will take a while to line up with yours. It’s a combination of both problems — physical and emotional distance. Feeling like he can even sort of trust you will cure that. He’s super restrained during his ruts though. Even if you’re in a long relationship, the only way you can notice is by his heightened scent, which he loves to blockers to suppress, because he’s stupid like that and feels like it interferes with his investigations (yes and no. it’s not very helpful if someone can smell you a mile away, but it’s also because Dazai likes to keep an air of mystery AND distance between any sort of work and personal life, in his own strange way. Stops taking them if it helps create a connection he can use) and the fact he just randomly wants to knot you at all times of the day. He doesn’t even seem that serious about it though — just like “oh! popped a knot in you! sorry!” and does that 10 more times until you catch on.

“Dazai… are you in rut???” “…yeah.” absolutely ridiculous mind game for no reason other than it’s Dazai.

Seriously, if this man is your Alpha, I’m sorry. He makes you jealous accidentally a lot because he has Omegas fawning over him, that he gives crumbles of attention for validation, but his secretly super possessive and HATES when it happens to you. Seriously. One Alpha hits on you and suddenly you’re covered in hickies and claim marks, rubbed so hard with his scent it almost stinks and you can’t get it out with ANY SORT of laundry detergent.

Ranpo

again, if this man is your Alpha, I’m sorry. I am actually less sorry than if Dazai is your Alpha but I’m still sorry.

Ranpo is childish. He has absolutely 0 clue on how to be a proper Alpha, despite Fukuzawa trying to teach him, but unlike someone like Kunikida or Sigma, has probably little to no desire to learn. That isn’t entirely true, especially with how earnest Ranpo is to want to learn with you, but honestly, he gives up very quickly.

He can be very selfish with his pleasure, but that’s mostly to your gain, to be honest. At least you have 0 emotional hangups when it comes to Ranpo. 🤷‍♀️ that’s all I can say.

He also has 0 embarrassment. He will fully scent you, partially undressing you to get to what he wants, like a breastfeeding CHILD, in the middle of the office. If you smack him away, he’ll be fully confused. Like “whaaaaat? I’m your Alpha. I’m supposed to do this.” NOT HERE, IDIOT.

Mouths your neck and your scent gland whenever too. Like just leans over in meetings to do so. You, as his Omega, almost have to leash him, your Alpha. It’s a bit of an unusual dynamic, but fits perfectly to Ranpo.

He will end up growing up a bit when he enters a relationship with you; however, that will take a lot of time. Your relationship probably starts off really casually too. Ranpo will most likely just offhandedly ask you on an outing, then he’s considering you his significant other, his omega, without it ever truly being discussed. “It wasn’t obvious? Why would I ask you out if I didn’t want to be with you?” Please teach him how to properly enter a relationship. Or at least discuss with him the standards of dating. Fukuzawa will give you a bonus. Just please.

Now, it’s very widely accepted that Ranpo is autistic/asperger’s syndrome, and I headcanon him as that as well so a little on that from another Aspie!!! Ranpo doesn’t always catch on to what is and isn’t socially acceptable. He has a tendency to sometimes be sexual in times that aren’t always the best, but if you tell him nicely, he’ll understand and back down. Usually with a nod and taking mental notes. You need to be very verbal with this man because he will not catch on in any sort of way. If you want a gift, ask him for it! If you want time alone, ask him. Seriously. You need to tell him or he’ll just keep doing his little routine.

He has stimulation problems. You might need to carry around headphones or some sort of fidget toy because he sometimes gets overwhelmed in public by all the information he’s taking in. He’s used to it, but that doesn’t make it better. If you let him sit on the couch with a weighted blanket and just sit with him in silence on the other side, he will eventually jump your ass after a while and cuddle up under your arm. He will probably not leave your side for the rest of the day, refusing to talk to anyone but you.

His libido is finicky, it jumps between hyper sexuality and almost completely disappearing, even if he wants to pleasure you. His ruts show that. Unlike most Alphas, they aren’t always timely, and show up randomly. It makes it hard for your heats to line up with his ruts. They rarely line up, and sometimes when you’re in heat Ranpo is completely disinterested and would rather be working on a case. Early on, he most likely will ignore you and them, not out of animosity or a lack of care, but just because he’s really not used to being in a relationship. If you give it time and practice, certainly after expressing your need, Ranpo will take care of you through them. Whether it’s eating you out or knotting you properly. He can finger you with one hand while working on his phone or laptop with the other, a skill he didn’t even know he had.

His ruts on the other hand… he’s very needy. You will have to call out of work for a week or two. He wants to be touching you at all times. Don’t expect to leave the bed at all. Actually, just plan on being on his knot the whole time. If you have to get up, even for a drink of water, expect him to be right there behind you, arms clasped around your waist, begging for you to come back to bed. His scent gets so heavy. He just wants to be comfortable and the only way he feels comfortable is with you. You might need additional call out days for how weak your legs will be afterwards.

Ranpo is apologetic though and will bring you painkillers or a heating pad. You probably could talk him into a massage every now and then. He knows how much you give to him, and struggles with sometimes feeling like your relationship is one sided. It is, in a way, but Ranpo gives back tenfold with how absolutely pure his love is for you. He’s loyal and will never entertain any sort of attention from any other Omega. He shares all his snacks and candy with you and tries to show you his love in little ways, like remembering your favorite flavors or something you mentioned you liked.

Ranpo isn’t the best Alpha, but he is a good soul. He tries and though he has his struggles, he really is there for his (and your!) best interests at heart.

Praise him. Praise him during his rut and you will be there for another week. It drives it crazy and ends up lengthening it for an extended amount of time.

[makethemhoesmad]

with you

@azzibuckets was today’s victim

paige

—

when i was dragged out of my dorm to some bar i recognized but always forgot the name of, i wasn’t expecting to catch the end of a women’s basketball game on a tv screen just as i was ordering my first drink. i wasn’t expecting the losing team to be my school, either. uconn wasn’t normally prone to losing games. something that didn’t surprise me, for the first time that night, was the star player on the team, paige bueckers, choking back tears. most people wouldn’t spot it. but me, i did. i did because a few months ago, it was my arms she ran into, my shoulder she cried on, when this happened. i wonder who’s there for her now.

i didn’t realize that in an hour or so, id learn that the answer was no one at all.

~

later, still nursing my second drink, my thoughts clouded with the image of the girl i shouldn’t care about, it took me a moment to notice how the energy in the bar had shifted. i only looked up when someone brushed against my arm, jostling my drink and nearly spilling it. they turn around, and i recognize them immediately. i’d know azzi fudd’s smile anywhere. 

“oh my god, i’m actually so sorry, i can get you a new one?”

i shake my head, grinning at her.

“nah, it’s okay, i was gonna head out soon anyway.

she nods, and starts to walk away, before turning back and pointing a finger at me accusingly. 

“wait. you’re that girl, aren’t you? paige’s ex.” 

i nod, tentatively.

“don’t leave yet.” she states, rushing off into the crowd. it almost makes me want to walk out with my dignity, but some small part of me makes me stay. 

i stay in my seat long enough that im about to leave, when a flash of blonde hair sits her ass in the seat next to me and just tucks her face into me neck.

“paige, baby, i can’t do this again.” i say. but after those words leave my mouth, and i feel her sniff against my neck and snake her arms around my waist, i know that there’s no way im not doing it again.

“please, just come home with me. we don’t gotta do nothing, i just need someone to hold me. no, not someone. i need you.”

and that’s all it takes.

“alright.” 

she jolts us both out of our seats and takes my hand, dragging me to her car. i wave briefly to my roommate, who gives me a nod and a knowing grin. 

i know paige’s car, almost like it’s my own. she opens the passenger door and ushers me in, before shutting my door for me and going to her own side. she’s still doing that shit. she says nothing as she drives, just reaches for my hand, allowing for me to feel her grip get a little tighter, a little more desperate as she gets closer to her apartment. even when we get there, even once we’re inside, she doesn’t talk. only once we’ve entered her room, and she’s shut the door, does she finally say,

“i’m sorry.” 

i don’t answer. instead, i sit on her bed and open my arms, letting her fall into them and curl her face into my chest. i feel when the tears start to fall, but as i rub her back, i feel them stop. she sits up, looking at me with red eyes and a runny nose, then starts to unbutton my pants. before i mention her earlier words, she says,

“not doing anything, ma. just wanna be comfortable.” 

i let her continue, watching as she strips us both to our bras, her boxers, and my panties. she pulls her covers back, and despite being taller than me, she intertwines our legs and cuddles into my side, her arms wrapped around me like she’s scared i’m gonna run away if she lets go. i stroke her hair, whispering, “i saw the end of that game baby, it’s okay to be upset.”

“it’s not okay,” she say, “it’s only okay when i’m with you.”

~

when i wake up, still tangled in her, blonde hair splayed on my ribcage, i realize that im the one that’s there for her. and if i let her take my clothes off, show me that she never forgot my body, and then when i take hers off, show her the same, then, well, i wouldn’t rather be with anyone els

[tightjeansjavi]

The Menu | Part 2

“like an angel to me”

A/N: so I think this is the fastest I have ever written something in awhile! Every time I think there’s no possible way for me to want Joel even more, I surprise myself with something like this 🥴

~word count : 5.3k~

Pairing | dark! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: after showing up to Joel’s apartment late one night, he gives you exactly what you’re seeking.

Warnings: dubcon/teetering on noncon (the lines are pretty blurred but I just want to be safe) coercion, manipulation, mind games, degradation, a sprinkle of misogyny, possession, ownership, dominance, humiliation, reader goes from being a dom to a sub real quick, brat tamer, praise kink, size kink, blood kink??, spitting kink, unprotected PIV, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, light spanking, oral (male receiving) little to no foreplay, some aftercare??, Joel is an asshole, delulu! Joel, cockslut, whore, bitch, are all used. Age gap, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in late 20’s, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is Angel, this story might not be for everyone, and that’s okay! Please heed the warnings! If I have missed any, PLEASE let me know. +18 minors dni!

The last thing Joel Miller expected you to do was laugh. Not just giggle, or a snicker, no. It was a full on wheezing laugh.

“Oh my fuckin’ god. You’re not actually serious, are you? Wow, is this supposed to make my panties wet or something? Cus’ it’s sure doin’ the complete opposite!”

His face turned beet red all the way to the tips of his ears. The glass that was clenched firmly in his fist was on the verge of shattering. Guess he couldn’t handle his fragile ego being busted open, huh?

“Y’think you’re so funny, huh?” His confidence was wavering on thin ice as he reached for the bottle instead.

“Oh, yeah. I think I am absolutely fucking hysterical. What? You don’t get your dick wet enough around here as it is? Oh, shit! Is it because your dick is small? It’s alright, Joel. Most women don’t care about size anyway.” You were smirking through your teeth as you sipped away at what was left in your glass.

The glowering man sitting across from you took one harsh swig from the bottle before he cracked his neck to the side. “I get my dick wet around here plenty. Thank you for showin’ some concern though. Ain’t you just a real peach? Why even mention my dick size, huh? Ask any woman around here and they’ll all tell you that I am well endowed.” He nearly growled as he slammed the bottle down along the coffee table.

“Geez, don’t go and get your panties all in a twist, Miller. I have no interest in knowing anything that has to do with you dick, I assure you. God, I swear all men, even after the world has gone to shit, are the same. Y’can’t handle someone busting your ego? Well, aren’t you just some delicate fuckin’ china.” You scoffed and placed your glass down on the coffee table like a dignified person.

Oh, you didn’t just bust his ego, you shattered it right down to the core. He could handle some bruising, sure. But god, if he didn’t want to tear you into two right now—

“Maybe I shoulda let those men in the alley fuckin’ tear you apart, since you think this is so fuckin’ funny. D’ya have any fuckin’ manners at all?! I risked MY fuckin’ skin to save your own and this is how you’re gonna act?!” His voice boomed through the thin apartment walls. He expected you to cower. To profusely apologize for poking the angry bear. Instead, you stood your ground.

“Maybe you should have! You could have just minded your own and let them fuck me up, but instead you what? Wanted to be the hero?! I never asked you to come and rescue me, Joel! Y’want me to say thank you? Fine. Thank you oh so much for saving me, Joel Miller! How can I ever repay you?” You mockingly batted your lashes, followed by an eye roll as you rose to your feet.

“Yeah, well, next time I ain’t gonna be there to save your skin! So, why don’t you jus’ go on back out into the streets, and see what happens!” He shook his head tightly as his jaw clenched like a fist.

“Great! That’s the best news ever because like I just said, I never asked you to rescue me!” You yelled exasperatedly as you made your way over to the door. Your head still throbbed, and your nose felt like a million tiny shards were digging into the flesh, but you’d much rather spend a night in lock up than another minute with this man.

“Great! Jus’ be on your way then, girlie!” He grumbled through his teeth.

“Oh, and Joel? For the sake of all the women in the QZ, why don’t you just keep your dick in your fuckin’ pants.” You gave him the middle finger before yanking his apartment door open. “Do not fuckin’ follow me home.” Was the last thing you said before you slammed the door behind you on the way out.

“Oh, don’t you worry! I ain’t gonna follow your bratty, disrespectful, no good—” he was cut off by the apartment door swinging shut so hard, it nearly fell off the hinges.

For good measure, the brooding bear got up from where he was sitting and locked the apartment door just in case you thought about coming back. Not that you were going to as you were already halfway across the QZ street heading home.

Joel Miller did not see you again for what felt like months (not really. He’s just a bit dramatic is all) when all in all reality, it had been two weeks to the date. He thought maybe you had died, or worse; He thought that maybe there was a chance that you got infected. Good riddance.

But then Tess told him that you were in fact alive, but avoiding him.

Joel knew why of course. He was quite the dickhead during your last interaction. Tess couldn’t really blame you for wanting absolutely nothing to do with Joel Miller ever again.

Business carried on like usual on their end even without your addictive charm in the mix.

You fucked a FEDRA soldier for extra ration cards just out of spite, and to get Joel Miller’s stupid face eliminated from your brain permanently. If you ever ran into that man again, you wanted to be smelling of another man’s cum just to rile him up all over again.

You wanted to crawl right up into his skin. Cover him in welts and hives to drive him mad. Hell, you wanted to poison him and leave him without the antidote. Fuckin’ Joel Miller and his stupid Texas twang and those piercing brown eyes and massive hands.

Perhaps that’s how you found yourself outside his apartment door late one night searching for a vice to be filled again.

You knocked once, then paused and knocked twice.

This is fucking stupid. What the hell am I doing?

When you heard no immediate answer from the other side of the door, you assumed that he wasn’t home and proceeded to turn on your heel to walk away—

The door squeaked open as Joel Miller's head appeared from the doorway.

“Fancy seein’ you here tonight, Angel.” He rasped deeply. You couldn’t even see his face yet, and you just knew he had a shit eating grin plastered on it.

“Miller.” You acknowledged him with a tight nod when you finally turned to face him.

He was leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed and brow raised curiously.

“And what is it exactly that you're showin’ up here for?” He knows, of course. He’s known for awhile, but he wants to hear you say it first.

“Somethin’ that I heard you have to personally ask for. Somethin’ that isn’t advertised on your little menu here, Joel.”

his lips curve upwards in a wolfish grin. He cocks his chin to the side as his broad arm comes to rest along the chipped wood on the doorframe.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d finally give in, Angel.” He rasps. Thick and deep. His words hang heavy in the sultry air.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his response as you crossed your arms against your chest. “Okay, well, you don’t need to be all mysterious about it. Now, can I come in, please?”

“I see you're still at it with being a disrespectful brat, huh?” He pushed himself off the side of the doorframe so that you could make your way inside. The door was pulled shut behind you with a soft woosh of air.

“Yep, and I all I could think about these past few weeks of you fuckin’ the disrespectful brat right out of me, Joel.”

I fuckin’ knew it.

“Oh, I see. So, that’s what you’ve been up to all these weeks is thinkin’ about me?” He awaited your answer with a bated breath.

“No.” You deadpanned with a faux sigh. “Was too busy fucking a FEDRA officer for some ration cards. Didn’t have enough space in my brain to think about you setting me straight.” You teased with a smirk playing on your lips.

His fists clenched at his sides as his jaw tightened. The thought of you fucking another man, let alone a FEDRA officer?

“Hmm. Is that so? Well, I think you’re lyin’ through your teeth right now, Angel.” He wasn’t about to let you get under his skin that easily.

“Me? A liar? Oh, I’m truly wounded. C’mere, Joel. I bet you can still smell him on me.” You purred softly.

His eye twitched as he imagined you screaming another man’s name as you rode his cock—

He took a few steps towards you and backed you right up against the countertop. He dipped his head down towards your face as his hands came to rest along either side of the cool countertop. His nostrils flared as he inhaled your scent with his nose pressed deeply into the clavicle of your throat. “Did ya fuck him before you showed up here? Answer me, Angel. And y’better tell the truth.” His voice dropped an octave that shamelessly sent a pool of arousal dripping through your panties.

“Mhm. I fucked him before I showed up here. His cum is still inside of me, Joel. Y’gonna fill me up too?”

His teeth grazed the spot where your neck met your collarbone as he dragged his hot tongue across your skin. “S’that what Y’want?”

“Sure.” You shrugged almost disinterested.

“That ain’t how this works. Y’tell me exactly what it is that you want from me, and I deliver. Y’got that?” He asked you sternly as the bridge of his nose dragged upwards across your throat.

“Ah. So the women you fuck tell you what they want, and that’s all you do to them? Well, where’s the fun in that? Seems kinda boring to me, Joel.”

“Y’don’t like my rules, then y’can fuckin’ leave. That’s how things work around here, baby. So, I’ll ask y’again, what do you want from me?”

“Hold on. Hold on, cowboy. Pump the breaks. What if the thing they’re requesting is something you’re not interested in? You still do it? What about the things that you want? Ain’t that important in all this?”

“God, you’re annoyin’, y’know that? Can you just answer the goddamn question? I ain’t have all night.” He grumbled impatiently.

Then you did something that neither of you expected. You reached your hand up between your nearly touching bodies and grabbed ahold of his jaw tightly between your fingers and forced him to look directly into your eyes. “No. Fuck that. The world has gone to shit and you’re not thinkin’ of your own desires? Man, don’t you wanna be in charge for once? You think I’m so annoying and nothin’ but a disrespectful brat? Then show me what you do to women like me. Put me in my place, Joel.” You challenged him.

It was as if something inside of him had snapped. Maybe you were right. Maybe he oughta put you in your place after all. Why only be half in charge of how things played out, when he could take the whole cake himself?

“Alright. We’ll play the game my way then.” He chuckled darkly as his knuckles turned stark white from how hard he was gripping either side of the countertop.

As soon as you went to open your mouth, one of his hands clamped down instantly as he leaned in close. “Startin’ with shuttin’ this smart fuckin’ mouth of yours up. Yeah, ain’t so tough now, are ya Angel? Didn’t think so. Now, I’m only gonna ask you once, alright? Get. On. Your. Fuckin.’ Knees. Now.” He commanded you.

You dropped to your knees like an obedient dog on a leash waiting to be rewarded with a treat.

“Wow, would ya look at that. Guess the bitch can be obedient after all.” He chuckled.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his new demeanor. You weren’t one for teasing, and right now Joel Miller was testing your patience.

“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that. You’re the one who showed up at my door, remember? This ain’t goin’ fast enough for you? Well, we’ll just see about that.” He tsked under his breath as his hand moved from your mouth to resting along your jaw.

“Open.” He commanded you as he applied a bit of pressure to either side of your cheeks. When you obediently opened your mouth, he praised you. “Good girl.” Followed by a light loving slap to your cheek. “Now, the way I see it is that you have three holes for me to fuck.”

His grin intensified when your eyes widened at his suggestion. It wasn’t that..you were afraid but if he wanted to fuck you in the ass at some point, you’d need to be ready for him.

“Oh ho ho. I see. You ain’t ever done that before? Hmm. I’m surprised that a mouthy bratty whore such as yourself hasn’t had a cock in her ass before. Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time.” He leaned down so he was closer to your face as the blunt ends of his fingernails dug into the skin on your cheeks. His lip curled up into a snarl as his pupils darkened. “But then again, I am supposed to be puttin’ you in your place. Ain’t I, Angel?”

Tears began to spring along your waterline from how hard he was gripping your face. Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew. “You’re hurting me, Joel.” You gritted out as a few tears leaked down your cheekbones.

“Good.” “Now I have your full attention. That’s very good, Angel. Look at you bein’ a good girl with your listenin’ ears. Now, if I do remember from our prior interaction, you assumed that my dick was small. Ain’t that right?”

You nodded meekly.

“Ah ah ah. Words, Angel. Use ‘em. I ain’t into silence. You speak when spoken to. Y’got that?” He squeezed your cheeks tightly as tears continued to roll down them.

“Yes sir.” You squeaked out.

He loosened his grip on your face, which in turn allowed you to relax your jaw. “Where were we? Ah! Right. The part where you assumed that my cock was small. Right before you called me some delicate fuckin’ china. So, how about you see for yourself.” He gestured to the growing tent in his jeans. “Don’t be shy now. Go’on and see if the women in the QZ are jus’ sayin’ horse shit about my size.”

You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you felt his eyes burning holes in your skull from how harshly he was staring you down. Your hands quivered under his gaze as you reached for his belt to undo it.

“Don’t act so nervous, Angel. It’s just a cock. It ain’t gonna bite ya.” He teased with a chuckle. You could visibly see his hardened cock twitch under the confines.

You undid his belt before looping your fingers through the faded fabric and tugged them down swiftly over his ass and thighs.

You saw the sheer size and the girth of him through the tight fabric of his briefs as his own hand reached down to palm himself through the fabric.

“Holy shit.” You whispered in awe as your jaw fell open.

How in the hell is that supposed to fit?

He seemed to be reading your mind as his hand that was palming himself reached for your own and placed it under his. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’tcha worry your pretty little head about that. Although, maybe now is a good time to take back that little comment you made, hmm?”

Your own fingers dragged across the stiff outline of his cock as your eyes flitted upwards to meet his gaze. “I take it back.”

“Take back what?” He pressed.

“Sayin’ that you probably have a small dick.” You spoke quietly through the thick rising tension between you.

“Atta girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, huh? Still need’ya to take it out for me, Angel. Gettin’ awfully painful for me.” He hissed between his teeth when your hands finally grasped the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down. His cock sprang up freely against his taut stomach. The tip was gleaming with a bead of precum that was weeping from the slit.

“Well, it ain’t gonna suck itself, girlie. Get to it” he gruffly requested as he placed one hand along the back of your head and nudged you forward towards his cock.

For a brief moment you thought about just biting his dick off right then and there. Sorry, the voices. You just didn’t want to seem too excited. The FEDRA officer you recently fucked had nothing on Joel Miller’s cock. That was for damn sure.

Your glassy eyes stayed locked on his darkened ones as you stuck your tongue out and gave the tip of his cock a light kitten lick. He must have not been too pleased with it because his grip around your head tightened as he yanked your head upwards.

“Suck now, Or you ain’t gettin’ shit in return. We clear?” He asked you sternly with his eyes narrowed into slits.

“Crystal.” You mumbled in response before wrapping your palm around the base of his length and gave it a few slow tugs. When you finally obeyed, and he felt the wet heat of your mouth engulfing his weeping tip, his shoulders slumped as he inhaled a shaky breath.

“Shit—yeah. There ya go. See, that ain’t so hard? Fuck—that’s good, Angel.” He praised you from above as his hand loosened its grip around your head for a millisecond.

You relaxed your jaw on instinct to slowly inch your mouth further around him. The girth of his cock was stretching your mouth further than it had ever been stretched. Drool mixed with precum dribbled down your chin as fresh tears sprung to your eyes. You truly weren’t sure how you were supposed to fit all of him.

Joel didn’t want to admit it outloud, but seeing you sitting so pretty on your knees, mouth stuffed with his cock, and little tears leaking from your watery eyes, he never thought you looked so beautiful.

“That’s it, Angel. Relax a little more. Convince me that you’re actually enjoyin’ this. C’mon. Ain’t you a bit of an actress after all?” He chuckled.

Your hands found purchase around his bare muscular thighs as you tried to push yourself back for a gulping of air. Joel didn’t allow you the pleasure however as his hand was still firmly holding your head in place. You let out a sound that was nothing short of frustration before the tip of his cock pressed against the back of your throat, igniting your gag reflex to kick in.

Joel loved it.

His eyes rolled back when your throat clenched around him like a fist. His nails scraped lightly at your scalp as he threw his head back. He had received many blowjobs in his lifetime, but most women couldn’t take him all in. But once again, you proved Joel Miller wrong.

Feeling rather pleased with your work on him, Joel finally allowed you that breath of air that you so desperately needed as he removed his hand from your head. You immediately pushed yourself back off his thighs as his cock slipped out of your mouth with a light pop. You coughed a few times, gasping as a string of saliva hung from the tip of his cock all the way to your lips.

Before you could fully recover, his warm calloused palms were wrapped around your forearms and yanking you up from the faded tile floor hastily. He proceeded to wipe away your tears as his cock, still very much hard, twitched between you.

“Remember, Angel. You’re the one that showed up to my apartment like the cheap, bratty, beggin’ whore that you are. You asked for this. Y’wanna leave? Doors right there. I won’t stop you.” His thumb brushed the spot just below your eye.

You shook your head immediately. If it wasn’t for the constant tingle that simmered between your thighs, you probably would have hightailed out of there.

His smirk was nothing short of proud as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Very good, Angel. Very good. I’m testin’ you, and you’re passing with flying colors. Got your listenin’ ears on and everythin.’ Y’know what happens when you’re a good girl? Y’get rewarded. And I’m feelin’ mighty generous..so in the next five seconds you’re gonna take your pretty ass on over to the couch, you’re gonna strip down and bend over the side of it. Y’got that?”

You nodded as your hands already dropped to the hem of your shirt, fingers playing with the frayed ends. “Yes, sir.”

He patted your cheek affectionately before he stalked off to his room. You could hear him counting down from five as you scrambled to discard your shirt and tug your jeans down over your thighs. Your pulse quickened as you made your way over to the couch and bent over the side of it. You shouldn’t have felt this excited, but Joel Miller truly did bring the inner whore in you out to play.

His footsteps were heavy and audible just as you were reaching for the waistband of your faded panties to drag them down your legs.

“Ah. I’m sorry, Angel. Was five seconds not enough for ya?” He tuts softly under his breath. His footsteps hold a slight swagger as you feel the heat of his body simmering on your bare skin. His hand rests along the back of your thighs before slowly dragging upwards. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh as your covered pussy clenches around air. “Didn’t give ya enough time to take these off, hmm?” He hummed under his breath as he dragged his thumb across your covered core, applying the tiniest of pressure.

“Joel,” you whimper with a sharp breath when you the pad of his thumb pressing against you. “I’m—sorry, sir.”

“Sorry?” He sounds slightly confused at your apology. You can’t see his face, but you imagine his head cocking to the side as he gazes down at you like a starved man salivating at the wet patch that pools in the fabric of your thin panties. “Honey, this ain’t nothin’ you gotta be sorry for.” He reassures you as his head dips down.

You can feel his wiry, coarse beard scraping gently at the base of your spine. His lips on your searing skin are wet, hot, and inviting as he begins to leave open mouth kisses all the way up to the spot between your shoulder blades. You feel both of his massive hands prying your cheeks apart, followed by the slick length of his cock sliding through your covered folds.

He grunts directly into your ear as the sheer mass of his body conceals you like a cloak. He’s so fucking big. It's suffocating, almost. Being enveloped by a man such as him. Your thighs rubbed together to relieve the ache between them.

Can he just get on with it already?

“Now, Angel. I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt of yours till your legs shake. Till that stupid FEDRA officers come doesn’t even fuckin’ exist anymore. You’re gonna scream my name, and you’re gonna let every single one of my goddamn neighbors in this shit hole apartment know jus’ who’s fuckin’ you so well. Hell, maybe even that FEDRA fuck will be able to hear you from outside. You’re gonna scream and cum, like the dirty, obedient, little cockslut that you are.” He growled before bringing his palm down against your ass with a harsh, stinging slap that sent your back arching.

“And maybe, if you do as your told, and you milk my cock fuckin’ dry, I’ll treat you like a princess. Food. Shelter. A cock to keep you warm at night? Soft touches. Kisses. The comfort that I know you so desperately fuckin’ seek. All of that, and more can be yours, Angel. You jus’ have to be good and do as your told.” His teeth scraped the outer shell of your ear before he bit down on the thin skin harshly between his teeth. His thumbs looped between the waistband of your panties before he yanked them down to your ankles swiftly.

“Joel, that’s not what—” you tried to speak and get a few words in. But this was his show, not yours.

“That’s not what, Angel? That’s not what you want? Oh, please. Let’s not start this off by lyin’ to me. You showed up here tonight because you were seekin’ somethin’ I offered. I know how that brain of yours works, little girl. Y’sure can run that mouth of yours, but you and I both know that you’re fuckin’ helpless. Those men in the alley would have killed you if it weren’t for me. They would have torn you to shreds had I not stepped in. Say it, Angel. Say that I saved you.” He snarled unkindly as his freehand slipped around to your mouth. He pressed a kiss to your throat, right where he could feel your pulse quicken. “Spit.” He commanded you.

You shamelessly spit of glob of saliva right into the palm of his hand just like you were told.

His annoyance was prevalent when you didn't bother to answer his demand for you to admit that he saved you. Your blood was pumping in your veins and your heart was beating because of him.

You felt an unpleasant chill roll down every vertebrae in your spine when he didn’t praise you for spitting into his hand like a good girl. You tried to turn your head to the side to see what exactly it was that he was doing, but he didn’t give you that satisfaction. Oh, no. He wasn’t going to give that to you.

You went to open your mouth, to tell him just what he wanted to hear, but your words were muffled as he shoved your face right into the couch cushion. His hand encaged your head while the other slipped back between your nearly connected bodies. He used your saliva as lubricant as he fisted the heavy weight of his cock a few times.

Your body lurched forward when you felt the head of his cock pressing into your glistening hole. He was barely notched inside your cunt, and you were already trying to crawl away. He was too much.

He tuts with a disappointed sigh, shaking his head tightly. “Y’wanted this, remember?” He almost sounds pitiful. Almost. “Can’t exactly fuck this tight little hole if you ain’t holdin’ still, Angel.”

“Joel—it’s too. Fuck. It’s too much.” You whine pathetically as your nails dig into the worn fabric on the couch cushions.

“Too much for a fuckin’ cockslut like you? Shut the fuck up and take it.” He hissed between his teeth. “Just fuckin’ relax and quit bein’ so stiff. I’m tryin’ to make this an enjoyable experience for the both of us!” He snapped cruelly. He dropped his hand from around your head and opted to wrap his arm around your middle, yanking you back against his hips as he sank further into your heat.

“Actin’ like your pussy doesn’t want this, baby? She’s huggin’ me so fuckin’ tight already. She’s pullin’ me right on in. S’like she’s takin’ my cock fuckin’ home.” He groaned deeply as he bottomed out. Filling you to the fucking brim. His cock felt like it was splitting you in two, right down the middle. His chest was firmly pressed down against your back as he rolled his hips forward.

A strangled moan crawled up your throat as you found yourself fucking yourself around his cock. Showing him that you could in fact play the role. Be the actress. Milk him dry just as he requested.

“Joeeel.” You moaned wantonly with your cheek pressed firmly against the scratchy fabric of the cushions. Your tears had long since dried in a salty cavern along your cheekbones.

“That’s it, Angel. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. See, I told you I can fuckin’ treat you well.” He grunted praisingly as his lips found their way to your neck once more. He sucked, licked, kissed on your sweat-slicked skin as he pulled his hips back before jutting them forward once more. He set a deliciously deep and urgent pace as he fucked into you. “Don’t think for a second that I’m—-fuckin’ lettin’ you off the hook so easily, Angel. Y’still gotta tell me who saved you. Who saved your fuckin’ life!” His teeth grazed the thin, breakable skin along the column of your throat. He bit down harshly, drawing blood to the surface as he sucked on the entry wound that he created. A marking of dominance. Possession. The carnal need to own you.

The coil in your stomach tightened and pulled as your orgasm quickly approached. You liked it. You liked being fucked like the cockslut that you truly were. With each harsh thrust of his hips, the weight of his balls slapping against your skin, you cried out his name in a cock-drunk stupor.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Not the FEDRA officer fuck, right? Did he fuckin’ save your skin?! Huh?! No, Angel. He didn’t. Bet he woulda taken the opportunity to kill you, Angel. I bet they all fuckin’ would! Every last goddamn rotten, son-of-a-bitch sick fuck left in this shithole would jump at the opportunity to spill your blood on the streets below, Angel. Not me! Not Joel. Why do you think that, Angel? Why do you think I’d never let anyone hurt you?”

Your pussy clenched down around his cock as your strangled cries fell freely through your parted lips. Your back arched to meet his relentless thrusts.

“Because—because you own me, Joel!”

Maybe it was the endorphins coursing through your veins. Maybe it was the way Joel Miller’s cock continued to hit the spongy spot inside of you with every heavy thrust of his hips. Maybe it was the way he spoke to you. Or the way his body shielded yours with sheer strength. Maybe it was everything combined. In your cockdrunk haze, you wanted to be owned by this man.

“Yes, Angel. That’s right. I do fuckin’ own you. I own your body. This pussy. That smart mouth of yours. I own the come that drips between your thighs. I own your screams. I own your thoughts. Your feelings. Your likes and dislikes. I own every fuckin’ part of your being.” He growled possessively as his thighs and yours began to quiver. As his cock began to twitch, and your tight cunt began to pulse like a heartbeat.

“You own me, and I own you.”

He didn’t disagree. He didn’t argue as the cries of his name falling from your tongue mixed with his own heavy grunts.

Angel. Angel. Angel.

As he shot hot ropes of his seed into your fucked out hole, you milked him of every last drop, and as he slipped out, you could feel a mixture of his and your come dripping down between your thighs.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back as his breaths came out as hot puffs across your clammy skin. His cock softened against his thigh. Glistening in yours and his come. Your eyes fluttered shut as the post orgasm haze swept over you.

You felt two strong arms gently pulling you up as your head fell back against his strong shoulder. He held you securely against him. All you could hear was his heart beat and your intermingle breaths.

“Did you really go and fuck that FEDRA officer before you showed up here, Angel?” He asked softly while the pads of his thumbs rubbed soothing circles against your hips.

“No.” You admitted. “I didn’t.”

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

[thenightshadowqueen]

Death for a Dollar watchthrough thoughts

Holy shit, this was unhinged. I loved it so much. (That’s too many italics, but I don’t care.) I’m kind of speechless; the number of times I actually covered my mouth in shock (usually because of Sam, but Tom was insane in this one, too) was staggering. I adore this play.

Anyway, I’m going to get into my actual thoughts instead of just rambling.

Just to start, ‘Death for a Dollar’ is a great title, so kudos to whoever came up with that

Oh my god, Hank and Gareth 2.0!!!!

“You don’t know what he did for this place.” “That—Tell me!” This is off to a strong start

“Where was your showmanship?” I love it when they work mini games of Change into the plays

Mr. Twilliger is an incredible name

“This is me being the bartender, getting the stories out of the customers, so they reveal things, and then they want to drink more because they’re reliving their trauma.” I mean, it’s a valid tactic to get more money; yay, capitalism! (sarcasm)

AJ forcing Tom to be musical… Caesar and Juliet, anyone?

I love that Luke knows off the top of his head how many keys a piano has (I’m honestly not surprised)

Is Sam’s hair a little longer than normal? Because it looks really good

“I got three keys, three teeth, three toes. I’ve been through a lot.” I love Tony the piano player (who was also referred to as Bill once)

“My mind can take an awful lot; there’s not a lot in there” I love him, actually

“You ain’t trying to seduce him!” “But I get bigger tips when I do!” Sam

Can I just thank whoever edited this for giving us that little shot of Tom laughing? Because I love it when we get to see him actually laugh.

I love Mrs. Prostitute (and I love Tom for including positive representation of sex work)

“This is what feminism looks like” West End Big Boys flashbacks

“My mum is crazy” SAM

Also I think my favourite thing about the microphones is that we can hear them laughing so much more clearly (brought to you by Luke, on this occasion)

I adore Sam’s weird little harmonica thing he does in western-genre pieces

Ooh, younger versions of characters being played by different actors; I don’t think we’ve seen that before

I love Sam being confused and Tom’s response being to start clapping

I love Sam being annoyed and retaliating at AJ with a bald joke

“I told my daddy that I was real fast with a pistol, and that maybe I could go and work in law enforcement, but he wouldn’t have it.” “No! No son is going to go work for the government!” AJ trying to paint his father as the villain and Sam trying his very best to make the audience like him… This is gorgeous

“Telling a man if he’s allowed to own people or not” okay, never mind, I take that back

I don’t know why Sam picked the Watson-clown voice, but I’m glad he did (also I love that the voice made Luke break)

“Many Fingers Pussy” Jesus Christ, Tom

“They thought I had the devil in me” god damn it, now I feel bad for Bill

Sam is so good at playing wide-eyed innocent characters

“God, I wish they had that law in America in the modern day” I wish I had enough faith in people’s judgement to wish that

“I didn’t know you could do magic” I love it when Sam causes trouble

I can never see a reference to a one-man band like that and not think of Mary Poppins

“I can’t wait to hear those four white boys do those accents” oh dear

Luke speaking Spanish!!!

You know what, that vaguely Mexican accent could have been a hell of a lot worse, so well done, Sam

“So you can work on a farm, or you can jerk people off” oh my god, Sam

“He offered me a job” and then AJ realising what it sounded like and walking it way back

Tom entering the scene and waiting for a moment to join in and then Sam just throwing him in without warning is amazing

“I work here jerking people off” Tom

“She said she helps people el secrete-o” SAM

“Hand stuff Jesus is okay with” Sam

I don’t know why the fact that Tom knows little bits of Spanish brings me so much joy, but it does

Holy shit, Luke speaking Spanish with an American accent might be my new favourite thing

I love Maria, the bank robber/prostitute

You know what, I get Bill; the little, slightly mosquitoy “yeah”s are alluring

Half-kiss!!!

“A beautiful flower turns to a crooked leaf” I fucking adore AJ’s weird little sayings

“It’s a well-known expression” and then the advert with the merch saying ‘more well-known expressions’

“Something went worse than wrong. It went really wrong.” Gorgeous.

Sam’s slip oh my god

I know I already said Sam’s hair looks good, but Sam’s hair looks really good

I already said it but I will never be over Luke’s Spanish-in-an-American-accent. Never.

“I’ll keep my hands moist for you” it seems like Tom like using the word moist (the moisturiser fairy comes to mind)

I love audience participation

I’m sorry, as someone who struggles with mental math, that quick multiplication from Luke was impressive

“Got a lot of spunk in you, have you?” I love Tom using his English degree to make dirty jokes (obviously this doesn’t require an English degree; I just mean that it’s a wordplay joke)

I love Sam making sure to bring the story full-circle, with Tony losing his teeth and toes

Jesus, Tom

“Have we invented the electric chair yet?” I looked it up, and it looks like it was invented in the 1880’s, so not quite, but it wasn’t nearly so far off as I thought it might be

“I’ma travelling electric chair salesman” … honestly, I’m not even surprised at this point

Tom is right; this is really dark

I don’t think Sam knows how electric chairs work (affectionate)

Okay who the fuck let Sam wink like that

“Well, I guess that’s the end of the Shoot from the Hip show” I love when they get meta

“What could go wrong with giving a southern American teenager a pair of guns? I’ve got school tomorrow!” Holy fucking shit; may I present Sam Russell, the king of risky jokes

“…when we faked my death…” I love Tom so much

“I think this is the first time we’ve used the principle of the unreliable narrator” I actually love this so much; this is such a cool concept, especially for an improv show

Tom is unhinged in this one and I love it

I love this so much

I already made as post saying this, but it bears repeating: this is BUS levels of insane

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 4

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 4.9k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, public sex, blowjobs, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, mentions of morbid games lmao

You haven’t had a chance to talk to Beomgyu about what happened at the party, mostly because you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to ask him about Haeun because you don’t want to hear that they’re together now. And you don’t want to talk to him about Yeonjun and admit to him that you are not actually together when he clearly has someone else. 

As for Yeonjun, you start becoming closer and closer to him–you’re not actually dating but Beomgyu doesn’t need to know that, and the fact that he thinks you are and it’s pissing him off beyond belief is just the cherry on top. 

But due to all this messiness, things become awkward between you and Beomgyu. There is this unspoken tension that neither of you will acknowledge. Even just him coming home and stepping into the living room where you’re at feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. 

Live with your best friend, they said. It will be fun, they said.

You focus intensely on your phone, determined to ignore Beomgyu until he retreats into his room like the virginal creature he is. But to your dismay, he heads straight to you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Beomgyu asks, rushing to your side and you look at his concerned face with confusion. “What is it, did Yeonjun hurt you?” 

“Huh?” You hum, completely lost. 

“Your face. You look like someone ran over it.” 

You glare at him, showing him your phone pointedly. “I’m just stuck at this game.” 

He rolls his eyes, shoulders relaxing. “Damn, I thought it was serious.”

No shit. It looked like he was ready to scratch Yeonjun’s face off at the mere idea that he hurt you. Which is kinda sweet, you guess. 

“It is serious. This game is kicking my ass.” You complain, brushing past it once again, choosing to focus on the escape room game you’re playing. “I feel like such an idiot. Why can’t I figure this stupid puzzle out?” 

“Let me see.” He sits beside you, plucking the phone out of your hands. 

“Hey!” You protest loudly but he shushes you. “Let the genius do his thing.” 

You bark out a laugh at that. “Now that’s hilarious.” You mock him, but let him try anyway. If only because he looks the prettiest when he’s concentrating on something. 

What? It’s not like you’re going to get over your undying love for him in a day. 

Beomgyu flounders around just as you had expected, clicking all over the screen to try to unlock some hidden clue to no avail. Soon enough, his frustration reaches your level/ 

“What the fuck do you want me to give you, you stupid man?” Beomgyu yells in frustration, repeatedly tapping on the man who won’t give him the phone number he needs. 

“Is the genius struggling?” You mock and though he doesn’t mean it, he gives you the most heart-breakingly adorable pout you’ve ever seen. It takes the combined strength of every single cell in your body to not swoon on the spot. 

“Shut up. It’s a stupid game.” He mumbles and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Or maybe dialing random numbers on the phone isn’t the best strategy when there are like an infinite number combinations possible?”

“Like I said, stupid game.” He asserts, “It’s impossible to solve.” 

“No, you’re just an idiot. Give me back my phone.” You try to take it from him but he refuses to hand it over, insisting, “I’m going to solve it.”

“Beomgyu, come on!”

“I’ll figure it out!”

“No, you won’t, dumbass!”

“Okay, now you’re really not getting it back.” He says and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He sighs and tugs on your arm, pulling you onto his lap, “Come here, let’s work it out together.” 

How can you when his breath hitting the back of your neck lights your nerves on fire and the warmth of his body pressed up against yours fries up your brain? 

Still you valiantly push through, coming up with ideas together to solve the puzzle, equally stupid ideas that don’t work, but you don't even care about the game anymore, just enjoying being in his arms, leaning back against his shoulders, surrounded by his warmth and his scent. 

“Okay, that’s it. I’m cheating.” He announces after a long, frustrating stretch of inadequate gameplay, and you grunt. “Yes, please.”

You watch as he looks up the answer to the puzzle you’re stuck on online, practically melting in his embrace. 

“That’s the answer? What the fuck? It doesn’t even make sense.” He grumbles once he finds the answer, the vibrations of his deep voice like a cat purring against you. 

“I know. This is so annoying.” You mutter, no heat behind your words, as he enters the code given from the walkthrough. “Or maybe we’re both idiots.” 

“Nah, nah, it’s the game that’s stupid. We’re so smart.” He denies dramatically and you giggle.  “The smartest.” 

Once he dials the number given to him by the man, a distorted voice answers, giving you a cryptic message before hanging up. 

"Look into the eyes of the bird. What does that mean?" Beomgyu wonders, and a sudden realization hits you. "Oh, oh, there was an owl statue back there!"

"You're right. Good thinking, babe.” He compliments mindlessly, oblivious to the fact that he so casually sent your heart into overdrive. Yes, he has called you that before, but never in a non-sexual context. This whole thing feels so domestic, so relationship-y, and it’s seriously messing with your tattered heart. 

Beomgyu goes back to the owl and taps on its eyes. They turn white and the statue shakes, causing your anticipation to rise… but then nothing happens. 

"Wait, what?" Beomgyu wonders dumbly, and you frown. "Let's look around again. Maybe that did something."

"Okay." His head moves ever so slightly to the side and he takes a deep breath through his nose, frustrated, but if you didn’t know any better, and if your wishful thinking had its way, you would think he was taking your scent in. 

"Oh, there it is. It opened this thing." He says excitedly, jolting you out of your fantasies. "That’s the code!"

"Come on then, open the suitcase!" You gush, joining the excitement. You just love to see him so giddy.  

"Right." 

You watch his eyebrows furrow as he looks around for the suitcase, and you do your best not to bend forward and kiss his pretty nose. 

Damn it. Get yourself together. 

"It's a camera. Let's try to take pics with it." You tell him once he opens the suitcase. 

"I have a bad feeling about this." Beomgyu says, trying to take a picture of the mother character but it doesn’t work.

"Try the child." You grab onto his arms, feeling nervous yourself. 

You click on the child but instead of taking a picture of her, she takes a picture of you. Then the scene turns dark and she starts screaming.  

"What? What is happening? Pull back." You tell him urgently. 

He moves around frantically, stopping at the scene with the mother and now there is a monster behind her. The monster speaks in the same distorted voice, saying it’s taking the mother and leaving the child to you. 

“What the fuck?” Beomgyu asks, creepy music playing in the background. “Bring her back!”

“Oh, don’t feel bad for the mother. She fed her brother urine and dug up the corpses of her family members for a sacrifice.” 

“She did what?” He gives you a look of disgust.

“But even that’s not surprising. I mean she’s the product of the semen her father ejaculated into a jar and combined with the egg he extracted from her dead mother who he killed because he was obsessed with her.” 

“Why do you play these games?” Beomgyu groans, horrified. 

You shrug. “I am fascinated by the morbid. And if I recall correctly, I didn’t ask you to play.”

“I know. I just missed hanging out with you. Even if it’s playing creepy games or just you ranting about your day.” He says sheepishly, turning his head to face you, and you suddenly realize fully how close you actually are. You gulp. “Yeah. I missed hanging out with you too. I guess we’ve both been… busy.” 

“Yeah with the gigs and the parties and all, I guess I’m not around much.” He trails off, running his fingers up and down your forearm, making you shiver. Then looks up at you with a grin. “Hey, remember back when we were so lame no one ever invited us to parties so we would just spend our weekends at home watching movies and playing video games?”

“Remember? That was only like a couple of months ago. You may have forgotten your roots Mr. I’m-in-an-up-and-coming-band but it will always be the loser lifestyle for me.” 

You're joking but you do miss it. You miss when he was your Beomgyu and not Haeun's. Even if it was just in your head. You miss your best friend and not the asshole he became. 

“Yeah, right. You’re such a loser, you’re dating the lead singer of that band.” He mutters challengingly, staring you down. You’re so close, you only have to lean in a tiny bit to meet his lips, and by the way he’s looking at you, you think he wants it too. 

But then his phone rings and the moment is over. You snap back to your senses and quickly get off him, glancing at his phone. It’s Haeun. Of course. You feel so stupid. You’re not his girlfriend. You’re just his dumb friend who thinks she has a chance with him when he never expressed any interest in her and has in fact been in love with another woman–a woman who is now his girlfriend. 

“Baby–”

“Your girlfriend is calling. Answer her.” You tell him harshly, and he flinches, taken aback. He is silent for a second, searching your face for something, before he sighs. “Fine.” 

“Hey, baby.” He answers, looking at you as he uses the exact same nickname he just called you. You roll your eyes, starting the next phase in the game, trying not to let it show how hurt you are as you pointedly ignore him. “I’m good. Heading for bed.”

He pauses for a second during which you pretend you’re actually playing the game as he listens to what she’s telling him, before he says. “Baby, I can’t come over now. I’m tired… yeah, i’m just not feeling that well–No, no, don’t come over. I’m okay. It’s–” 

He shuts up abruptly and you look up to him to see him staring at his phone in frustration. 

“She’s coming over?” You raise an eyebrow and he sighs. “Wants to make sure I’m not sick.” 

“You’re so lucky.” You gush sarcastically. 

“Don’t start.” He warns.

“No. No. I’m really happy for you. Your love with Haeun is so special. So special in fact that you probably only share it with like five other men.” 

He laughs at that. “Oh yeah, it’s not like you’re dating boyfriend of the year either.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frown, hands on your hips. 

“It means that you’re not the first groupie he’s had. You’re probably not even the only one. Hey, maybe if you stick around long enough, he’ll even introduce you to the others.”

“Fuck you, Beomgyu.” You hiss, grabbing your things and heading to your room.

You know you shouldn’t have goaded him. Things were going well. You were finally spending some quality time together, just the two of you, just like you did before. But then you had to open your mouth and let your ugly jealousy show. 

Doesn’t matter. It would’ve been ruined anyway when she arrived.  You’re not really in the mood for a live sex show. 

______________________________

But if you thought hiding in your room would shield you from it, then you were dead wrong. You can hear them even from under your pillows. You would put on some noise-canceling headphones but Beomgyu owns those and you really don’t want to go to his room and give your worst nightmares form.   

All you have to distract you now is your phone and your frantic messages to Yeonjun. 

You: Junnie. I’m seriously going to kill myself. 

Yeonjun: Are they that loud? 

You: Her mostly. It’s like she’s intentionally trying to make me vomit. 

Yeonjun: Maybe she is. Maybe she feels threatened by you. 

You: Threatened? That’s crazy. 

Yeonjun: You’re right. It’s not like you hooked up with him before or anything… oh wait. 

You: You’ll be my 13th reason. 

Yeonjun: I’m sorry. If you’re so upset, why don’t we go out? 

You: It’s 2 am…everything is closed.

Yeonjun: So? The streets are open. We can walk around. It’ll be fun.

You: I don’t know. Isn’t that kinda dangerous? 

Yeonjun: That’s the fun of it. But if you’d rather stay home and listen to her fuck the guy you love then be my guest. 

You: I’m getting dressed. 

____________________________

“Do you take these late night walks often?” You ask Yeonjun, hugging your jacket close to your body to fight against the chill in the air. 

“Sometimes. When I have time to.” He shrugs, his breath making visible vapor trails in the air. “There is just something so magical about that period of time between midnight and dawn, when everyone else is asleep and it’s just you and the stars. Feels almost magical, you know?” 

“Yeah. I know. It’s like you could say anything and everything and it would be safe from the light of the morning.” 

You know all this too well because you used to spend that precious time with Beomgyu, cuddled together into the late hours of the night watching movies or talking about nothing even when you knew you had an important lecture in the morning or band practice to go to. 

During those moments you thought that Beomgyu could almost feel how you feel. No two people could share what you shared without being in love, right? 

But it was just the spell of the night talking. There was nothing there. Not from him at least. 

You stop for a second, taking a look at the slumbering city around, looking into windows and wondering about the occupants inside–Are they happy? Are they with their loved one? Do they feel the magic around them? 

Does Beomgyu feel the same way you felt about him with her?

You feel arms wrap around you from behind, and Yeonjun rests his head on your shoulder. “It’s so peaceful, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” You relax against him, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to stay in the moment, willing the night to work its magic. 

“How cute.” You hear a gruff voice cut through your attempted peace, and your eyes snap open to see a man holding a knife out at you and Yeonjun. 

“Whoa, whoa.” Yeonjun pulls you behind him. “No need to get violent.” 

“There will be no need if you quietly pass over your phones and wallets.” The man gestures with his knife. 

“I can give you the wallets but I have very important files on my phone.” Yeonjun attempts to reason with him but the man gets closer with the knife. “Hand everything over.” 

“Okay. Okay.” Yeonjun tries to calm him down, while you do everything in your power not to shit yourself. You’ve never been held up at knifepoint before! This is what you get for listening to Yeonjun. The man has orange hair! No good ideas could come from him.

“That’s the fun of it.” You mutter under your breath as you get your stuff out, repeating Yeonjun’s earlier words. “Yeah, this is so fun.” 

You shoot Yeonjun a glare before reaching out to hand over your precious belongings, but as the man goes to take them, Yeonjun suddenly smacks his arm, causing the knife to drop out of his hand and onto the floor.

Both men lunge towards it, attempting to recover the knife, and for the few seconds they fight, your heart stops probably a couple of times. If the mugger gets the knife, you’re sure he’ll send you and Yeonjun off with a few new holes in your bodies. 

Thankfully though, Yeonjun manages to swipe the knife in the end, and he holds it out threateningly. Well, as threatening as you can be with your arm shaking. 

“Aha!” He screams at the mugger, who in turn raises his hands up in surrender. “Get away from us.” 

“That’s my knife.” The man says dumbly. 

“It’s mine now. That’s how it works, isn’t it?” Yeonjun counters, sounding a little crazed. “Now get the fuck away before I return it to you somewhere you wouldn’t like.” 

“You wouldn’t.” The man doubts Yeonjun. 

“Yeah? I was crazy enough to wrestle it from you. You don’t know what I would do.” 

“Fine. This isn’t worth it.” The man turns and runs away. 

You and Yeonjun stay frozen for a good few minutes.

“Holy shit.” He breaks the silence, “I can’t believe I did that!”

“I know! I almost passed out. You’re fucking crazy.” You smack his shoulder, “You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“I know. I wasn’t thinking. It all just happened so quickly.” He breathes in shock, then looks around. “We should probably clear out of here in case he comes back.” 

“Right.” 

You quickly walk away, hurried steps accompanied by the occasional disbelieving exclamation until you deem you’re far enough away. Finally, you stop, looking around to make sure the coast is clear and to gather your bearings. 

You don’t know what comes over you, maybe it’s the stress of nearly dying, but you suddenly burst out laughing. “Fuck, I still can’t believe you did that! We could have died.” 

“But we didn’t.” He tries to argue, grinning madly, “And now we got this cool trophy.” He brandishes the mugger's knife, happy with his conquest before a frown takes over his face. “Do you think he stabbed anyone with this before?” 

“Probably.” 

He lets go of the knife and it falls to the ground with a clang. “Ew.” 

You both burst out laughing again, letting the high emotions runs themselves dry. But as your crazed laughs die down, Yeonjun pulls you close and kisses you, expressing that passion in a different way. 

"Junnie…"

"Did the near death experience turn you on too or is it just me." He jokes and you blush. "Maybe." 

You feel his hands fiddling with the button on your pants, but you grab them to stop him. "No, let me do it this time."

“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side. You know he knows what you mean but that he just wants to hear it from you. But instead of answering his question with your words, you get on your knees in front of him instead.

He cups your cheek gently. "You don't have to do this, doll."

"I want to." You undo his pants, taking his cock out and giving it a kiss. "Teach me?"

“That is so fucking sexy.” He hisses, gathering your hair in his hand. “Start slow. Don't overwhelm yourself. Just get it wet first."

“Okay.” You lick his cock, gathering your spit as you go and using your hand to spread it over his entire length. Bit by bit, his cock becomes more hard and slippery, letting you easily slide your hand over it, your tongue licking him everywhere from his shaft to the small opening on his head. 

“Okay, that’s enough teasing.You can start taking some of it in your mouth now.”  

“But I like teasing you. It’s payback, baby.” You grin, refusing to pull back, and starting to suck gently on his balls instead. You don’t know where all this confidence was coming from. You’ve never done this before. In fact, before Beomgyu, you didn’t have any sexual experience at all to speak of. 

But Yeonjun is not Beomgyu, and he doesn’t take your brattiness. He tugs on your hair pulling your head back until you’re completely off his cock, then he grabs your face with his other hand and pushes his thumb into your mouth, opening it. “Don’t make me punish you, doll. I want your first time to be nice so be good now.” 

He pushes you face towards his cock and this time you open up, obediently taking him in. “That’s it… no, no go slow.” He cautions when you take in more than you could, gagging a little bit. “I’m not going to fuck your throat. Not tonight, at least.”  

You moan around his length, squeezing your thighs together in need. 

“Aw, doll. He hasn’t been taking care of you, has he?” He purrs and you pull back, shaking your head. “Didn’t let him.” 

“Good.” He breathes, pushing your head back on his cock, encouraging you to take more and more of him, but being careful to not push you too far, always pulling you back when you start gagging. 

To be honest, you’re not doing much. You’re just letting him fuck your mouth, going along with the pace he sets. But he won’t let you slack. 

“Suck on it, baby.” He purrs, hand getting tighter in your hair, and you pucker your lips, sucking his cock every time you pull back. “Ah, that’s it. You’re doing so well.” 

You look up at him, seeing how he’s starting to struggle a little bit, the pleasure getting to him so you double your efforts, bobbing your head as far as you can go and sucking harshly as you go up. 

As you do that, you inadvertently pull off him with a pop, but before you can put your mouth on him again, he holds you back. “Spit on it. Get it all wet and sloppy.” 

You bite your lip, doing everything to not put your hand between your legs right now. You gather some spit in your mouth, grabbing his red, hard cock in your hand before spitting on it, immediately using your hand to spread the saliva over his length. 

“Use both hands. Twist them as you go up. Makes it feel like you’re milking my cock.” He groans, throwing his head back, and you stare at him, amazed. You never thought you’d actually have a guy feeling like this before. 

I mean, of course, if it was Beomgyu, he would’ve gathered a crowd around you because of his moans by now, but that’s Beomgyu. He’s a virgin and he thinks everything you do is sexy. But Yeonjun has had a lot of experience. So much so that he probably had more than a couple dozen girls blow him off before. 

Oh. You really shouldn’t have thought about that. Now you’re overthinking it, wondering if he actually likes it or if it’s just alright.  I mean, with Beomgyu he’d be babbling all about how good you’re making him feel and begging you not to stop and–

“Are you okay?” Yeonjun snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“Oh, I’m fine.” You squeak, quickly going back to doing that twisting motion he told you about and attaching your mouth to the tip of his cock, sucking on it as if you wanted to drain him. 

“Ah–it’s just–you were kind of–holy shit, that’s good…” He trails off, losing track of his thoughts. “Squeeze your hands as you do that. You’re not gonna hurt me.” 

You hold onto him tighter, letting your tongue prod at his slit as you suck him off and jerk him with your hands, determined to keep his mind off your little slip. 

“Okay, okay, I’m close. Gonna cum, doll, so unless you want it in your mouth then get off.” He tries to pull you away by your hair but you refuse, sucking on him harshly until you feel a warm fluid filling your mouth. “Oh, shit.”

You whine around his cock as your mouth fills up with his cum. You only pull back when he has no more to give, keeping his seed in your mouth for a second before hesitantly swallowing it down.

“Fuck, swallowing on your first time? What a dirty girl.” He purrs, gently smoothing your hair down from the mess he made of it.

He’s very gentle. He really took it slow with you. You should be happy that your first time was so positive, right?

But as you look up at him catching his breath, the strong taste of him on your tongue brings up an ugly feeling of regret. Oh god, if Beomgyu finds out about this, he’ll be so pissed. 

Why are you even doing this? Just to piss him off? Do you actually like Yeonjun? Do you think you can love him the way you love Beomgyu? And does he like you? I mean, he did tell you that he does, but what does that mean? Given his history and all, how many other girls does he like? How many other girls is he doing this with? 

Suddenly you feel dirty, and the pavement burn isn’t helping you feel less like a slut. 

“You okay?” Yeonjun asks again and you shake your head. 

 “Yeah! It just… tastes weird.” You deflect, and Yeonjun laughs, putting his cock back in his pants and helping you up. “I warned you.” 

“I was curious.” You shrug, throat closing up. “But now I really need water.” 

“I’ll get you some water. But first–” He pushes you against a wall, “Let me repay the favor.” 

He tries to lean down to kiss you, but you put a hand up to stop him. “That’s okay. Technically this was me repaying the favor.” 

“Well then owe me one more.” He suggests, trying again but you turn your head to the side. At that, he finally steps back, sighing. “What’s going on?”

"Are you… are you messing around with other women?" You ask uncertainly. Beomgyu really messed with your head. 

"Did you want us to be exclusive?" He asks, and you step away from the wall. "Oh."

Right. Of course. He’s the lead singer of the band. Of course he’ll have a dozen other women after him.  

"I just figured with you and Beomgyu–"

You’re stupid to think he’ll sit around and wait for you. "No, I get it." 

"I swear I am not as much of a manwhore as you probably now think I am." He insists, “It’s just… we’re not dating, right?”

“Right.” You confirm. 

“But if you want to. We can try.” 

You give him a smile with some effort. “We’ll see.” You look up into the sky. "The sun is coming up. Let's go home."

______________________________

By the time you reach home, all the stars have disappeared, drowned out by the oppressive sunlight, and you hope to god Beomgyu is fast asleep. 

"Want me to come inside?" Yeonjun suggests but you shake your head. “No. I’ll just go to sleep. You should too.” 

“Right.” He sighs and moves to leave but then stops abruptly in his tracks. "You didn't say you wanted–"

"Just let me think, Yeonjun." You interrupt, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he still looks unsure. “Good night.” 

You don’t let him say more, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you quietly. You look around to make sure the coast is clear before treading lightly to your room. 

"Welcome home.” Beomgyu’s voice stops you in your tracks, and you wince as you turn towards him, seeing him standing in the door of the kitchen holding some coffee. “I suppose you were with Yeonjun again."

“It's not what you think." You don’t know why you’re lying. You don’t know why you even feel guilty about this. Haeun must be sleeping in his bed right this moment. 

"So you didn't go out and hook up with him?" He asks and you stay quiet, making him scoff. “Of course.” 

You let out a heavy breath. "Beomgyu, I can't deal with this right now. I’m tired.”

“Do you like him?” He ignores what you said, tone serious, and you have to stop and think about it for a while.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” You say at last, feeling lost. You don’t mean to goad him. You just don’t understand his behavior and it’s time he made some sense of it. 

“I just don’t want you to fuck up my band.” He says simply and you stare at him, even more lost. “What?” 

“If you date him and then you break up, it’ll make everything awkward between me and him. This sort of thing has broken up bands before and I just didn’t want that to happen. I don’t want to lose what could be my future because you wanted some dick.” 

You let out an incredulous laugh, tears stinging your eyes. Is that all he cares about? So it’s not about Yeonjun or even about you. It’s because he’s worried about his precious band.  

“Well, that’s not up to you. Is it?” You ask bitterly, but that just riles him up more and he gets all up in your face. “Like hell, it is. This is my future.” 

“Well, this is my future too. Yeonjun could be the one for me.”

He staggers back. “What?” He breathes, stunned. 

“I don’t know!” You exclaim, feeling completely overwhelmed by everything that has happened today and just needing to retreat back to your room and curl up into a ball until you’re able to push the bad feelings away. 

“I need to rest.” You turn around, running to your room and leaving a shell-shocked Beomgyu rooted to the floor. 

______________________

A/N: feedback keeps me going so drop a message about what you think of the new chapter to motivate me to get the next chapter out faster 😂

and once again

Taglist: @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr

[gladiatorcunt]

you nailed how i imagined modern!feyd to be (batshit crazy) but you think he‘d let cute hello kitty reader put like stickers and bows on his motorcycle and stuff lmao? would he be an ass and be mean about it or would he allow it because reader is all sad and mopey otherwise 😔🎀 (maybe brat reader? like how would mans handle that in the modern au because in the canon verse pissing him off is a bit too scary) and alsoooo i laughed my ass off when you wrote he would debone coryo like a fish because yuh that twink (he could do bad things to me) wouldn’t stand a chance fr

he would actually make coryo so concerned, like they’re both from well off families (feyd just does underground fighting bc for the #love of the game) but coryo will be like “these poor people are CRAZY.” coryo gives off the vibes of he’d tell someone to kill for him (especially when he gets older, or he wouldn’t get his hands dirty if he does it himself & he’s methodical), feyd is tearing out throats with his teeth. he’d tackle his uncle and start stabbing, he’d gnaw his own arm off just for fun like you can’t compete where you don’t compare tbh. (coryo’s still my bf tho <3)

anyway,

cw: 18+ mdni, typical feyd warnings, spanking/pain play type stuff

modern!feyd would only let you put stickers on his bike if they’re the ones that are like hello kitty holding a gun or something. it’s not like he’s afraid that the softer ones will undermine his masculinity or anything, feyd’s ripping into other men with no real regard for keeping their bodies intact, it’s just that the cutesy stickers go on his helmet. he’ll let you tie a ribbon around his bicep and film videos of him flexing and making it pop off. he would wear matching pjs with you, but he doesn’t want to get blood on them so he sticks to his trusty sweats. he’s the kind of person to wear black in the hot summer sun because he’s spiteful enough to not give a fuck about heatstroke, like it’s something he could fight lmao. gets a matching dear daniel x hello kitty tattoo with you i fear, or a my melody x kuromi one since that’s more your dynamic.

brat!reader with canon era feyd does scare me to death, but with modern!feyd it’s fun to think about…. to a degree. like if you keep it up, he’s pausing the match and dragging you inside the ring to spank you in front of everyone. open palm strikes with half of his strength, if he used all of it your ass might fall off. his rings add even more sting. you learn quickly to know when to pack it up and throw in the towel, because he will NEVER be the one to test out your devious little ideas and macinations out on. he’ll shove a vibrator up your pussy and take you for a long ride on his bike, ignoring the way you try to hump him as he points out the sights he thinks you’d be interest in. weirdly punishes you by fucking nice and slow when you want your shit rocked, he doesn’t even edge you or anything, he just gives it you so soft and sweet and holds your hips down so you can’t try to buck them.

in some ways, you being at his matches has helped his abilities. (you do have to come to his fights btw, if you’re not there expect the rumble of his engine to be heard outside of wherever you’re at. feyd will get his unlce to cancle the match if you’re not there, he’s ultimately a certain kind of performer and if the key audience member isn’t there??? what’s the point.) he has to keep an eye on you, which helps him multitask. he’ll be punching some fuckin’ loser into an unrecognizable pulp while, out of the corner of his eye, making sure that no one’s trying to drag you into any wagers or into their cars. he’s curious if you could cum just from watching one of his fights, from hearing the agonized whimpers of his opponent as feyd effortlessly conquers them. something about you must be sick, because the more ruthless he is in a fight, the higher you’re jumping on him and the more marks you’re sucking into his neck.

you’re so clumsy with it, always putting too much teeth into your hickeys. but that’s just the way he likes it, because you know he’s actively holding back from biting you so hard that’s nearly cannibalizing you. (side note: loves gorey horror, nothing too funny or artsy, he likes shit that cares more about the pure carnage than quips or wide camera shots. hannibal is too “fancy” for him, he always asks you to explain what the fuck they’re talking about.) definition of mauling you like a bear, fucking him is like meeting God if they were an eldritch horror and you were on the brink of death. it is NOT for the weak, his thick arms holding you in a headlock as he pistons his gigantic cock into your cervix. he makes you cum until pass out, then he makes you do it again to wake you up. really good at resetting your brain if you need him too.

modern!feyd who gives you the ultimate scary guard dog priviledge. you’re going about your business in a store and he’s practically vibrating behind you, foaming at the mouth and waiting for some mf to try it with you so he can berserk. but no one ever takes the bait, just one look at his deranged ass and they’re swiftly turning on their heels and high tailing it out of the apple store (you’re taking too long to pick what color imac you want.) copies whatever pictures you saw on pinterest, acting as your little prop. wrapping a tattooed hand around your throat, mirror selfies where he’s holding you over his shoulder by your ass, gross close ups of his long tongue wrapped around yours, insta stories directed at paul specficially bc he won’t stay out of your dms. asks his opponents for date ideas while he’s beating their ass 💀, made his uncle organize a remartch (even though feyd won) with the guy who limped over to your adorably clad in pink form and asked you to get boba (because he noticed feyd giving you your favorite before his fights).

pierced dick, would sharpen his teeth and make his tongue forked. face tattoos + whatever piercing’s more painful. big in body mods overalls like he sees himself as an extension of his motorcycle that he’s always illeggaly modding, fast and furious type specs that no court of law would deem road safe. but he always devotes part of his brain to making sure you’re safe when you ride along with him, reaching behind him and his black painted nails rubbing comforting little circles into your plush thighs. ambidextrous by choice and practice, for sure has a cauliflower ear. whenever you’re sad and pouting, he’s grabbing your chin in between his thumb an pointer finger and lifting your head up so he lovingly teases you about being a crybaby and so he can lick your tears away. (and he doesn’t even do it with sexual intent, feyd’s genuinely just trying to consume your sadness directly since word’s aren’t his strong suit.) could fall asleep in an ice bath, has done it before, dad type snoring like you wouldn’t believe.

loves it when you ride him in any kind of water, you have to pack extra strength sun screen if you’re going to be out in the sun though bc he WILL burn more often than not. still has your pussy gorilla glue gripping his length though, there’s no pain on earth that would put him out of comission & that’s a promise.

[theyfiles-au]

Yo @mystic-warriors here :3

I WANTED TO MAKE AN AU WITH BLUNDER AND FOLLY BECAUSE STFU I LOVE THEM

I finally finished the main story of 3 (so just 90% more game to go 💀) I know there’s some quests with blunder and folly which I have not yet done, but my friend told me after they turned into ghouls for like 5 minutes they gained the ability to see Yokai

BUT JUST HEAR ME OUT OK (more rant and art below vvv)

THIS AU IS BARELY THOUGHT OUT AND WILL PROBABLY JUST BE THE OCCASIONAL DOODLE DUMP BEFORE EVENTUALLY BEING ABANDONED BUT THIS AU IS KIND OF APART OF MY MAIN AU WITH MY OCS (comyst, Sam, saturn, etc) BACK ON MY MAIN @mystic-warriors so the events of the game didn’t even happen, (just pretend they’re researching other wacky shit around town ok again this was not well thought through just let me have this)

I like to think they’re in the same world as my main Au but I don’t have any plans of them actually meeting the protag comyst, they’re just off on their own doing their own shit, maybe they might reference or bump into eachother for a joke or something but that’s about it. (DONT EVEN START ON ASKING WHERE TF COMYST OR BLUNDER/FOLLY LIVE THEY JUST… IDK EXIST IN THE SAME PLANE OF EXISTANCE CLOSE ENOUGH LEAVE ME ALONE)

ANYWAYS now that you all understand that (TLDR) this Au is purely so I can give the two a team and draw them in wacky shenanigans while lore/plot is not a worry I MAY DOODLE DUMP

Also please excuse this awkward stage of me trying to figure out how tf to draw blunder and folly