#feel like i gotta watch out and look out for him but i know i DONT and it makes me feel shitty

[natalienomad]

1. Rivaini

2. chaotic good, there with the good morals but damn if it ain't weird as shit to get there

3. Elf and Deathcaller Mage. I figured a Lord of Fortune would be chill with spirit magic.

4. Relaxing at a graveyard in Rivain. Possibly digging up corpses looking for loot, and maybe a companion or two.

5. Oh sarcastic! If you're a necromancer ya gotta have a lil giggles in ya to be around the LoF.

6. Davrin. Hunting down monsters may not be Rooks jam, but petting a cute griffon? And saving griffons? Can't pass that up! Not to mention going on walks with tea that makes ya high sounds like a pleasant evening.

7. Emmy. My lil Richy. He needed someone to understand the spirits like him that wasn't from the Mourn watch. An outside perspective, with equal reverence for the spirits.

8. At first? Lucanis. Until he showed her coffee and rum go well together.

9. Oh no, Isabela thinks we're still too down to earth to really get into the thick of it. That's why she lends us Taash, to really get the fire going under the Veilguard.

10. Shes been known to take a few sticks and bang on rocks for a good time.

11. Staff. Staff Staff Staff. Make thing blow up? Make thing blow up Wayyyyyy over there? Yes please.

12. Asexual, with a Panromantic heart. If things happen, they happen. But the true goal? Is getting a kiss and really feeling it down in her chest.

13. Isnt necessarily evil, nor is it good. Simply a way of balancing the world. You live. You eat. You breathe. You die. ....though she may raise you afterwards.

14. She's a big nature hobbyist. Going out on walks, seeing the wildlife, trying to maintain that balance of life and death.

15. She liked Antoine and Evka right away. And her first hatred was with the Mayor of D'metas crossing. Trading life for gold was silly. You rob graves to get gold and raise them. Give them new life, not condemning them to a branded unlife.

16. Assan may be a good boy, but she's always wanted to have a few druffalo to tag along and help ferry her treasure and new friends.

17. It feels like she got tossed into the life, just by happenstance. She doesn't mind, tho she detests the leadership she has to take on, it weighs on her.

18. More than likely owning said druffalo caravan.

19. At an old age, after continuing our little Manny's training after my dapper guy passes on. One day I'll join him, after they dig his coffin up, and lay us to rest together. Knowing Manfred will become the greatest watcher of them all, a lich all his own.

20. It's a complex stance, she'd aid him in his freeing if the spirits, to take down a tyrant meant to enslave others. But to sacrifice those same spirits like a pawn? She'd feel regret and pity and shame and continue the fight, knowing it was the only way, but knowing this man also had to be toppled.

21. Hard to pick a favorite, she uses a healthy balance of fire, necrotic and ice. But if she had to pick one? The fire beam ulti.

22. Common, Elvhen and Qunari.

23. Ask Manfred to go on a walk.

24. Oh absolutely. Whether the skeletons we raise have a semblance of the original owner or just a spirit accessing the memories who's to say. But we certainly pass on, somewhere.

25. Oh Deathcaller for certain. She'd wish to dabble in Evoker, but being a powerhouse in the back that can wipe a wave of darkspawn out in seconds is a Good Feeling.

26. Herding Dog. Not a war dog. I have a job, and it's helping these nerds figure themselves out and point them in the right direction. And I'm happy to do so.

27. Traipsing along ancient burial grounds mostly. Going into town to sell said goods, share interesting stories I've heard from the spirits in the tombs.

28. Oh Rook is Alllllll too happy to let Isabela take the wheel. Literally and figuratively. The Lords are far more chaotic than Took could handle. She needs a good balance of crazy and semi crazy, and sane to help Her stay sane.

29. Mourn Watch. So I could've snuggled up to this kindly older man quicker! He's such a charmer!

30. Her carefree and loving nature that she expresses to herself and all her friends.

Rook Questionnaire

inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?

2: What is your character's alignment?

3: Race and subclass?

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

7: Romantically close with?

8: Who are they suspicious of?

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

11: Weapon of choice?

12: What is their orientation?

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

[wonderjanga]

So there is that headcanon where Captian Marvel looks a lot like teth Aman (Black Adams kid) and him mistaking cap as his kid and trying to reconnect in a way making people think that Black Adam is Captain Marvels dad

*throws this idea at you and runs away*

*idea smacks me in the head*

Teth was furious. For good reason too. The Wizard literally sealed him away for nearly five thousand years. Then, the old man replaced him with some, from what he’d heard, bumbling idiot. So yes, he was furious, and he also wanted his job back. Something he could only get if the current champion was put down. Which he was on his way to this place called Fawcett to do.

When he got there, he could practically feel the magic emanating from the city. Were there magic ley lines here? Then it’s a no wonder the Champion chose to set up base here rather than one of the major cities. As of now, Adam was above the city surveying the terrain. Meanwhile, Billy in Marvel form is sitting on a roof, wondering who that weirdo hovering above the city.

Solomon: “Oh… Billy you have to kill that man.”

Marvel: “WHAT?” *gobsmacked and concerned because other than a couple times, Solomon has never been one to hop on the ‘kill that villain’ train*

Achilles: “Yeah, we’re sorry, but like, no joke, you actually gotta kill him.”

Marvel: “The other times were jokes?”

Mercury: “Kinda, but you absolutely have to kill this guy or he will kill you.”

Marvel: “Oh. Uhm… okay?” *sounds extremely nervous as he stands up* “So what do? Do I just…?”

Hercules: “Yeah, just like charge him, and beat him. To death.”

And that’s how Adam literally blinked and the next thing he knew, he was hurtling through the air and to the ground, far from the so called Fawcett. Damn it. The current Champion had found him first. When Adam crawled out of his crater, he was met with a face he didn’t think he’d ever see again. Aman.

Had that blasted Wizard brought his son back from the grave? Adam didn’t know whether he should be grateful, or enraged. On one hand, the Wizard brought his boy back. His boy whose life had ended too early. On the other hand, his boy had been thrust back into a life of danger as the Champion. Gods, how long had Aman been the current Champion? How long had the Wizard waited until he decided that doing this was acceptable?

As for Billy, he just stared down at the guy wearing black in confusion. Why did the Gods want him to kill this guy so bad? He isn’t attacking anyone. He’s kinda just there, staring up at up at Billy with the same confused expression Billy has. He also has the same lightning bolt? Billy had thought that was only reserved for people connected to the rock. The Wizard had never mentioned this guy before if that’s the case.

Black Adam: *mistakes Billy’s confusion as recognized* “…Aman?”

Marvel: *heard “a man” and just thought Adam just had some type of accent* “Yes…?” *now extremely confused*

Black Adam: “I can’t believe it.” *flies over to him and tries to reach out to him*

Marvel: *moves out of his reach because he does not know this rando*

Black Adam: *sounds slightly annoyed* “What did the Wizard tell you?”

Marvel: “Nothing? I just don’t know you.”

Black Adam: *looks absolutely disturbed* “He erased your memory?”

Marvel: *just about to answer when some monster starts attacking Fawcett* “Look, I gotta go. We’ll talk later.” *flies off to the monster*

Zeus: “How interesting.” *probably stroking his beard* “He didn’t immediately kill you.”

Solomon: “Be on watch Billy. He could still attack.”

Now, Adam obviously didn’t do that. He immediately went to Kahndaq, made himself pharaoh again and remodeled the palace as best as he could in such a short time. It wasn’t until about a week later that Adam came back to see his boy again.

Marvel: *finishes helping an old lady cross the road*

Black Adam: *lands beside him and clears his throat*

Marvel: “Oh, it’s you again!” *smiles*

Black Adam: “Yes. It is I.”

*silence*

Marvel: *desperate to fill the awkward silence* “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I caught your name the last time we met.”

Black Adam: “I am Teth Adam.” *is super hurt that his boy doesn’t remember him and is plotting on the Wizard*

Marvel: “Cool. I’m Captain Marvel. I’m fine with Cap, or Marvel, or whatever you can come up with.”

Black Adam: “So that’s what he has you going by…”

Marvel: “What?”

*another silence*

Black Adam: *clear throat again* “When… are you coming home?””

Marvel: “Home?”

Black Adam: “Home. Kahndaq. If you’re worried about becoming a slave again, after your…” *clears throat* “The point is, I worked to get rid of it.”

Billy honest to the Gods just assumed this guy was both lonely and another Champion.

Marvel: *confused at the mention of slavery* “Sure, I’ll come by. That’s in like Africa, right?”

Black Adam: *a little relieved that he’d visit, but also filled with a little dread because Marvel not knowing where Kahndaq is kind of supports the memory wipe theory* “I believe so.”

Marvel did visit. And sure, he might’ve had to work himself up for the awkward afternoon, but it wasn’t that bad. Teth seemed a little happier after the whole thing. Billy’s pretty sure at least. It’s a little hard to get a read the guy’s emotions.

Also, someone caught the end of their conversation, more specifically the coming home bit. Thus, the rumors of this new guy in black being Marvel’s father were born. These rumors were fueled by Adam trying to be fatherly, albeit awkwardly, and Billy just accepting it because he just thinks Adam is being nice.

Like the time Adam brought him a modernized version Aman’s favorite food because he thought he might still like it.

Achilles: “WAIT BILLY IT MIGHT BE POISONED-”

Marvel: *takes a big munch* “Wow, this is really good!”

Black Adam: *relieved* “It’s good you still like it.”

Yeah, Fawcitizens are like ninety percent sure Adam is their hero’s dad. And they’re here for it. They just want their big guy to be happy.

[revelboo]

REVELLLLLL DROP ANOTHER SCAVENGERS CHAPTER AND MY LIFE IS YOURSSS !!!!

Disaster squad!

Lifeless Ordinary Pt 5

Scavengers x Reader

• Shifting slightly to keep an optic on Misfire and Crankcase as the two try to get behind Swindle at the bins of human things, despite Krok warning them to not steal anything. They have to realize they need this crook to get them food for you. And if they get caught, Swindle’s likely to refuse to sell them anything else. “I mean, you gotta understand with the way humans multiply, they’re everywhere. Hundreds of different languages going. How was I to know which one your pet speaks?” Swindle flashes his denta, but it’s his newest acquisition that Krok’s attention keeps sliding to. Another human sitting in the middle of a bin of cloth coverings, folding the items one by one and sorting them into stacks. Ignoring the rest of them.

• Used car salesman aura robot is back and talking with your guys. Even not understanding a word the guy is saying, you’re almost positive he’s lying through his denta as he talks to Clicky. Over the weeks of being stuck as a pet, you’d started making up names for them all. Clicky, Goggles, Wings, Broken, and Big. Not exactly creative, but naming them makes you feel better. Makes them people instead of just scary, giant robots that want who knows what from you. You’re so busy watching the fast talker, that you almost miss the other human. Almost.

• Adjusting you against his chassis, Fulcrum watches you try to signal the other human, waving an arm until they look up and chattering at them. Sagging some when they reply, shaking their little head and gesturing at Swindle. You can’t understand the other human, he realizes. So the crook isn’t lying and he winces when you slump against him, sullen now. Still muttering nonsense. “You have their language?” Krok asks, beginning to click that thing he carries around and the sound makes Swindle grimace.

• Slumping against Goggles you have the absurd urge to cry, because there’s another human right there. And they can’t understand you. Apparently the universe is having fun jerking you about. Just one thing. Can just one single thing go your way?

• “I know that language,” Swindle grumbles glancing at you in Fulcrum’s hands and tearing his optics away when Spinister grumbles softly and rests a big hand on Fulcrum’s shoulder. Staying close to his tiny pet, but letting someone else carry you so he can get to his weapons if need be. It’d be easier just to shoot the mech in the face and take everything. He’d explained that to Misfire, but the seeker had just shook his head at him like he was being the unreasonable one. These things are all things you’d need, right? So why not take them. How’s that short sighted? Relaxing some when Swindle hands the data file over to Krok and he calls for Crankcase to try it. Because if this one doesn’t work, he’s shooting the other mech no matter what Misfire says.

• “Why is it always me? Why not test things on Spinister? Or Fulcrum.” Swearing at them all, he lets Spinister install the language chip. “You’re all awful,” he mutters and you sit up straight in Fulcrum’s hands and lean so far out, the other mech pins you tighter to his chassis in surprise. Staring right at him with wide eyes.

• “I understand you!” You’re so giddy, you almost pitch out of Goggles’s hands. Because that wasn’t weird alien noise coming from Broken. He’d spoken and you’d understood him and you’re about to start bawling you’re so happy. Finally. You can go home.

Previous

[petriwriting]

Swimming Lessons - JJ Maybank X Reader

Request.

A/N: This was so cute...

Growing up in the outerbanks and being unable to swim was hysterically ironic. You enjoyed the pool, and the beach as long as the water wasn't too deep. You liked baths, hot tubs and jacuzzis, but for some reason you just never learned how to swim properly, which raised an insecurity that you couldn't swim. Of course, naturally everyone can swim, but the thought of the darkness undernarth you and the absence of the grounding earth under your feet, it was absolutely terrifying. But, you were willing to learn.

"JJ I can't swim."

you protest, it's the evening, the air is warm and humid and the sea breeze has a slight chill. JJ holds you, bridal style over the water. 

"JJ I'm serious!" you say louder, growing scared as he carries you into deeper water, it's now waist length deep for him. He's still standing, which means you could too, but it is a bit scary since you can't swim. Your bottom starts to meet the cold water and you squeal. "Hey I got you," JJ says with a laugh. you hold onto him tighter. "I don't understand how you can do this for fun." you say. 

"Swimming is boring, wait till I can show you how to surf. You'll be flying across those waves." He jokes continuously. He pretended to drop you and laughed it off again, enjoying your nervous laughter and smile. You protest one more time. "JJ I can't swim." you say serious this time, your tone sobering up. "And I told you I won't let you drown," he says sternly. you sigh in defeat. He gently puts you down, slightly deeper than before, your chest is met with the chilly ocean water and sea foam. "This.. isn't too bad." you say, you are simply standing in the sand, not really swimming. 

Before you can say anything else a huge wave crashes over you, sending you hurdling into JJ who holds you still. "Oh my god," you exclaim. "That was scary," you sigh, pushing your wet hair out of your face. "Babe, it's the ocean. there will be waves." JJ says, with a look. "They aren't even that bad today. this is pretty calm." he reassures you. 

"Alright, let's try this." he insists. "Float on your back, just to practice." he instructs, you follow suit hesitantly and do as he says. you are floating on your back, or trying to at least. There is comfort in knowing you can easily stand if you need to. "Hey," he says, his eyes are looking deep into yours. It's a sweet moment. "I got you." he says gently. 

You try again, one more time until you are comfortably floating on your back in JJ's arms. He cheers you on encouragingly. "one more time, ok?" he asks. "This time you gotta close your eyes. I'll be right here, promise." he says. you begin to float on your back the same as before. you keep your eyes open for as long as you can until he is insistent you close them. Darkness. you feel the flow of the waves, and are relaxed and amazed by the ocean and how she carries you and cradles you as if you're a baby. you got a glimpse of why JJ and his friends loved surfing and swimming so much. It was comforting. It felt safe.

You open your eyes and you have drifted and floated out further than you would have liked, JJ's arms are not beneath you and you begin to panic, your feet can't feel the sand beneath them, terrified, you remembered everything JJ had told you about swimming. "It's as easy as breathing, you'll know what to do. It's an instinct." 

You look up and see JJ has swam out closer to the shore and is waiting and watching for you. You are slightly angry he broke the promise but you swim towards him and before you know it you're swimming. He claps and cheers for you. "You got this!" you swim right up to him and pull him under the water. swimming now feels effortless. He got you out of your comfort zone.

"Nice try you can't drown me i'm a strong swimmer," He jokes. The two of you race to the shore and you chase him up onto the beach until you're both exhausted and laying on the sand. "JJ," you say finally after some silence. "Thank you for teaching me to swim." you say. "Nah, don't thank me. you did all the work," he smirks, looking down at your lips for a pause and then kissing you tenderly. 

[igbylicious]

you know i was wondering... when you have something in the pipeline about yunwoosan's oneshot, could you give us a spoiler? it doesn't have to be much just enough... please ⟵⁠(⁠๑⁠¯⁠◡⁠¯⁠๑⁠)

pls accept these ~500 words of smut as a lil preview, i hope you like them ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ it dives right into the middle of the filth lol

preview warnings: dom Yunho & San, sub Wooyoung & reader, mxm Woosan (w/ anal fingering), voyeuristic reader, hand-on-throat, choking, spanking, degradation (reader is called a pervert & a cockslut), reader uses she/her pronouns, possessive Yunho, i get so dizzy writing him for this one yall

Your head spins as you gasp for air — and though you and Yunho have stopped moving, the bed still creaks underneath you, with familiar whiny moans filling the bedroom. You don’t even think about it, can’t think, when you peek back over your shoulder.

Vision blurred from unshed tears, you just barely make out the forms of San and Wooyoung. San is hunched over the smaller man, grunting as he finger-fucks him hard, his free hand pinning Wooyoung’s thigh to hold him down as Wooyoung jerks and cries out at the punishing pace.

He’s completely lost in the throes of pleasure, head thrown back and spine arching, his unpinned leg kicking out and spasming. His cock is hard and leaking on his stomach, his hand harshly smacked away when he reaches down for relief. San revels in his whines with a toothy grin… a grin that widens when he glances over and sees you looking at him.

“Oh baby, no.”

Your memory jolts back to life with a shock, eyes widening as you remember Yunho’s one rule, but it’s too late.

A hand closes around your throat and you gasp as Yunho forces you to look at him. You whimper, fully expecting to see fury in his eyes — and are thrown completely off balance when Yunho is pouting cutely instead, an unnerving contrast to his rough hold on you.

“And you were doing so well,” he sighs. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you? What a little pervert you are, you really love watching them that much. What about me, hm?”

“I-I—” You stammer, blood rushing down your core you as his thumb slowly presses down on the side of your neck. “Yunho, ‘m so—”

Your breath goes wheezy at the pressure, all while Yunho stares you down with those big, beautiful eyes. His pout fades away, leaving nothing but cool disappointment. “I get jealous, you know,” he murmurs, leaning in to nose at your cheek, lips brushing against your jaw. “Don’t wanna share just yet. What’s a guy gotta do to keep your attention?”

You suck in a tight breath when Yunho smacks his other hand against your ass, and then again, warming the skin. You whine at every impact, reflexively arching into it. Needing more.

“Ah, so that gets your attention,” Yunho says, his eyebrows raising with interest. “You know what I think?” His fingers tighten around your neck ever so slightly. You feel dizzy, drowning in heat. “I think Sannie has been too soft on you. A spoiled little cockslut like you gets to do whatever she wants around him, don’t you?”

You weakly shake your head ‘no’; a bald-faced lie. San is soft like whipped cream when it comes to you.

Predictably, Yunho doesn’t buy it for a second. His palm connects with your ass again, a little harder this time. “No? You really expect me to believe that?” Yunho scoffs. “I bet all it takes is one needy look from those pretty eyes and he’s right down on his knees for you.”

[spiicii]

the og bloodline / bloodline property (part two)

jey uso / jimmy uso / roman reigns / solo sikoa / sami zayn x fem!reader  word count → 6.8k summary → sami zayn has proven himself an ally to the tribal chief. as a reward, he is invited to experience what no other outsider has experienced before: a taste of the bloodline’s property.  notes → definitely got carried away with this one, but i hope you think the wait was worth it! i tried not to play favorites, though i’m sure i failed miserably.  tags → multiple partners, possessive behavior, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, choking, begging, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, creampie, hickies, some crying, overstimulation, lore accurate tribal chief (roman is not always nice to his cousins)

You pressed a small kiss beneath Roman’s jaw, feeling a small chuckle rumble in his chest at your touch. 

“What a sweet girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss of his own against your temple. “Now be good for me and sit in Daddy’s lap while he gets some work done. Okay?” 

You nodded, letting out a contented sigh as he pulled you closer, cradled in his arms. You always felt so small when he held you like this, his massive arms encircling you, keeping you tucked against his muscular chest. You closed your eyes and let him hold you, his deep voice keeping you calm as he spoke with his family. You didn’t know what they were saying and you didn’t care, more than happy to stay curled up in the Tribal Chief’s arms. His perfect pet. 

“Excuse me, my Tribal Chief. Sami Zayn is outside.” Paul Heyman’s words had you opening your eyes, watching with interest as the Wiseman approached, his head bowed in deference. “He wishes to speak with you.” 

Roman waved one of his hands dismissively. “Fine, fine. Send him in.” 

Paul bowed his head again, already moving away to follow his master’s orders. You felt Jey move up behind you, no doubt already irritated by Sami’s arrival. You knew they didn't get along. 

“Why you gotta entertain that fool, uce?” Jey snapped, his voice tight. “You know he ain’t blood.” 

“It’s not your call to make, Jey.” The Tribal Chief’s words were firm and the Right Hand Man was quickly silenced. Although you couldn’t see him, you could already imagine the disapproving look on his face. 

When Paul Heyman re-entered with Sami Zayn trailing close behind, you couldn’t help but watch him in curiosity. He was taller than you thought he’d be, a happy smile already on his face before he’d even been acknowledged. He seemed excited, practically bouncing on his heels as he entered, rubbing his hands together as though he had big news to share. 

“Hey, Roman! I-”

He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes landed on you. It was clear he hadn’t been expecting you, his smile faltering as his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Oh! Hello.” He seemed nervous all of a sudden, fidgeting with his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sami.” 

He stepped forward with his arm outstretched, as if to offer you a handshake, and you were quick to shrink away. The Tribal Chief didn’t have many rules, but you knew it would displease him to have any man outside of the Bloodline touch you. Solo and Jey seemed to agree, already moving forward protectively. 

“Aye aye aye, back the fuck up, uce,” Jey snarled, shoving Sami roughly in the chest to push him back. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

Sami was quick to raise his hands, as if he were surrendering. “Whoa, whoa, wait! My bad, dawg. My bad. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…” 

“Yo, uce, chill.” Jimmy was quick to intervene, already placing himself between Sami and his brother. “It’s alright, man. Relax.” 

Jey’s face was a mask of anger as he stared back at Sami, his hands clenched at his sides as if he were resisting the urge to punch him. Jimmy put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Just relax, uce. It’s all good here.” 

“Yes, Jey. Relax.” The Tribal Chief’s voice was calm, but you could hear the warning behind his tone. “Sit down.” 

You saw Jey tighten his jaw, no doubt resisting the urge to mouth off, but you knew he wouldn’t dare. Not with Sami here. So instead he obeyed, slowly moving back to Roman’s side to take a seat, his eyes flashing with anger. 

Jimmy offered Sami a smile. “Don’t worry about him, man. You know how he is.” 

Sami let out a nervous laugh, shifting his weight from one to the other. It was clear he was trying not to stare at you, but he was failing miserably, his eyes continuing to wander to take in your small form curled up in the Tribal Chief’s lap. You didn’t mind meeting his gaze, taking him in with equal curiosity. 

“You’ll have to forgive my cousins, Sami.” Roman said, relaxing further into his chair as he pulled you closer. “They’re a little…protective.” 

Sami chuckled again, though it was clear he was uncomfortable. “Yeah. Yeah, I can see that.” 

Solo made a displeased noise but a wave from Roman’s hand quickly silenced him. 

“I don’t normally let anyone outside of the Bloodline even look at what belongs to me, but I’ll make an exception for you, Sami. After all you’ve done for this family, I think you deserve a reward.” 

Sami looked at Roman in confusion. “Reward?” 

Roman hummed in agreement, reaching up to cup your cheek with his large hand. His touch was warm and your eyelids fluttered, leaning into his touch. 

“Isn’t she pretty, Sami?” The Tribal Chief kissed your hair and you melted deeper into his arms, your cheeks heating up at his sweet words. “You can see why my cousins are so possessive of her, huh?” 

Sami looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed unsure, his eyes flickering between you and Roman. 

“Come on, uce.“ Jimmy encouraged, clapping Sami on the back. "She’s pretty, ain’t she?” 

Sami met your eyes again and you offered him a bashful smile, nuzzling against the Tribal Chief’s neck in contentment. 

“Yeah,” Sami breathed, his eyes glued to you. “She is.” 

Roman chuckled, reaching around you to grab at your thigh, his grip possessive. “Come to our penthouse tonight then. Consider it a thank you for what you did for me last week with Drew McIntyre.” 

Sami seemed taken aback by his words, but not nearly as taken aback as Jey. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

Jey’s anger didn’t surprise you, however his willingness to confront the Tribal Chief did, especially in front of an outsider like Sami. You felt Roman tense beneath you, his grip on your thigh tightening. You buried your face into Roman’s neck, letting out a small whimper. The last thing you wanted was for them to argue. Unfortunately, Jey was incapable of keeping his mouth shut. 

“He ain’t got no business touching what belongs to us. Uce, you can’t-”

“I can’t?” The Tribal Chief’s tone was dangerous and Jey instantly fell silent. You saw Jimmy cast an alarmed glance in his twin’s direction, but he didn’t dare interfere. He knew better. 

You felt Roman take a shuddering breath beneath you, his fingers clenching and unclenching on your thigh in an attempt to compose himself. You were grateful Jey didn’t speak again. 

“As I was saying,” Roman continued, muscles still tense beneath you. “You are invited to our penthouse tonight. Being allied with the Bloodline has its perks. Ones that I hope you’ll indulge in.” 

After a few tense moments, Roman slowly relaxed, letting out a long breath and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you tonight, Sami. The Wiseman will see you out.” 

Sami quickly stood, his eyes still flickering with worry between Roman and Jey, but he didn’t say anything. After one final handshake from Jimmy, Paul escorted him out, quickly shutting the door behind them. 

The room was silent now, the air tense. Nobody moved, but Roman’s breath was steady, his chest rising and falling calmly beneath you as he held you close. Jimmy looked worried, his leg bouncing in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness, while Solo remained stoic as ever, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared straight ahead. It was a long time before the Tribal Chief finally spoke. 

“Argue with me in front of an outsider again and I’ll grind your face into the mat like I did at Hell in a Cell. Do you understand?” 

The silence was deafening, but it wasn’t long before you heard Jey’s response, his voice quiet, “Yes, my Tribal Chief.” 

*****

“Do you wanna touch her, Sami?” The Tribal Chief’s voice was a low rumble, his grip on your neck tight as he pounded into you from behind. 

You whined in his hold, your back arched perfectly as he kept you speared on his cock. His large hand was firmly around your neck, though you were grateful for it, his touch keeping you grounded as you balanced on your knees atop the king mattress. 

You met Sami’s heated gaze and saw the barest trace of a blush tinting his cheeks, his lips parted as he let out small pants of air. 

“Yes.” You heard him breathe, his eyes never leaving yours. You saw that he had his hands clenched at his sides, almost as if he were resisting the urge to reach out and touch you without the Tribal Chief’s permission. 

Roman shifted the angle of his thrusts and heat shot up your spine, another whine spilling your lips as he aimed for that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. He chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss into your hair as he continued to assault your g-spot, his thrusts unfaltering. 

“I don’t blame you.” Roman’s tone was conversational, his voice steady despite the fact that he was balls deep and rock hard inside of you. “She looks so perfect like this, stuffed full of my cock and begging for more. She knows how to serve her Tribal Chief, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

You tried to find the words to respond but he dragged across your g-spot again and you almost screamed, the feeling so good that you felt like you could hardly breathe. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed in your ear, his other hand grabbing one of your ass cheeks and kneading the soft flesh there. “You gonna come, pretty girl? Gonna come on your Daddy’s dick?” 

“Yes, please,” you gasped, the tension inside you threatening to snap. “Please, can I come, Daddy? Please?” 

“You beg so pretty for me, baby,” he moaned, his breath hot in your ear. His grip on your neck was so tight that you began to see black spots across your vision. “You can come.” 

The tension finally snapped and you shuddered in his hold, pleasure rolling through you as you clamped down on his dick. 

“Fuck!” He hissed, his hips beginning to stutter against yours. “Gonna fill you up, pretty girl.” 

With a few more violent thrusts he did, warmth spreading inside you at the feeling. You relaxed in his hold, his grip on your neck loosening as he finished. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands gentle as he laid you back down on the mattress. “You alright, sweet girl?” 

You nodded, your brain still foggy from the pleasure he’d just given you. You heard him chuckle, his hand warm against your cheek. 

“You’re so good for your Tribal Chief, sweetheart.” he whispered, brushing a few stray hairs from your forehead. “You gonna be good for my Bloodline too? Gonna let them take care of you?” 

You pressed a kiss of your own to his cheek, a sign of life as your body recovered. “Yes, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” He praised, motioning for Sami at the end of the bed. You watched as Sami approached, his eyes raking across your naked form, his knuckles blanched from how hard he had them clenched at his sides. 

“Come give her a kiss, Sami,” Roman said, already moving away to make room for him. “I think she deserves it.” 

You heard a noise of protest to your right and you looked over to meet Jey’s reproachful gaze, his mouth set to a frown. Sami hadn’t laid a hand on you once since he arrived, the line in the sand clear. His reward from the Tribal Chief was the privilege of seeing you like this, fucked out and used by his Bloodline, a privilege that no other outsider had been granted - not even Paul Heyman. To be granted the honor of even touching you was clearly not something that Jey was expecting, swiftly rising from his chair to approach the bed, his expression furious. 

The Tribal Chief quickly clocked the movement, a firm finger already pointed in his direction. “Don’t even think about it.” Roman snapped, his tone brokering no room for argument. “Sit your ass down and be grateful I’m even allowing you in here after the shit you pulled earlier.” 

Jey curled his lip, an angry retort on his lips before Jimmy moved forward and grabbed his arm, hissing into his ear. “What the hell you doin’? Let it go, uce. It ain’t worth it.” 

There was a beat of silence, the air tense as Jey clenched and unclenched his fists, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. Jimmy continued to whisper furiously in his twin’s ear, tugging on his arm to urge him to sit back down. It took a few minutes, but Jey eventually obeyed, still staring daggers at Roman even as he took his seat, his jaw so tight it looked like it might snap in half. 

“That’s what I thought.” The Tribal Chief’s tone was smug. “I apologize, Sami. Some Right Hand Man, huh? I might be in the market for a new one if this one can’t do as he’s told.” 

A splotch of red dotted Jey’s cheeks, but he mercifully said nothing in return, his eyes simmering with anger as he glared at Roman. The Tribal Chief met his gaze evenly, his lips twisting into a smirk. 

“Well go on, Sami. Kiss her. I won’t ask again.” Roman’s impatience was beginning to bleed through his words, the smallest crack in his composed facade. Sami sensed it too, already moving quickly to your side, only stopping when he met your gaze. 

He seemed uncertain, his eyes flickering behind you to where Jey was sitting. You had no doubt that Jey was staring him down, but you didn’t turn around to look. Instead, you reached out your hand to Sami, tentatively brushing your fingers against his. He blinked, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to climb onto the bed, his eyes still wide as he stared down at you. 

You offered him a reassuring smile, sitting up to meet him. “It’s alright,” you murmured, taking his hand in yours and tugging gently to pull him closer. He followed you easily, his eyes never leaving yours. They were a pale blue, a stark contrast from the dark eyes of the rest of the Bloodline, his pupils blown wide with lust. You reached up and played with the hairs in his beard, watching with interest as his mouth parted, small puffs of breath falling from soft lips. 

You leaned forward and he met you halfway, your lips colliding with more force than you were expecting. You let out a surprised chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, spreading your legs to make space for him. He followed you further onto the bed and you felt his erection press against your hip, his hands on either side of you as he explored deeper into your mouth. He tasted different than the others, perhaps a little sweeter, his lips almost softer than Jey’s. 

He shifted a knee up and pressed it against your core, causing you to gasp against his mouth. He applied more pressure, the fabric of his jeans quickly soaked from your wetness, some of the Tribal Chief’s seed still dribbling out from where he’d claimed you. You felt your hips cant forward to seek more friction, reaching up to tangle your fingers into his unruly hair. 

You were so lost in the feeling that you didn’t feel the bed dip, another body joining the two of you. Full lips were pressing against your neck, a large hand reaching around you to palm at one of your breasts. It didn’t take long for you to realize that it was Jimmy, his lips ghosting across the shell of your ear as he pressed himself against you. 

Sami released you, leaning back to watch Jimmy wrap his arms around you and pull you close, his teeth now grazing the delicate skin of your neck. Sami seemed hesitant now, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you, as if he expected to be dismissed. You offered him another smile, reaching out to tug gently on his beard. 

“Why’d you stop?” you hummed, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Sami visibly gulped, his eyes flickering to Jimmy, as if he were anticipating a fight. 

“Jimmy won’t bother you, Sami.” You heard the Tribal Chief say and you looked over to see that he had settled in his own chair, watching the scene unfold with interest. “He knows how to share.” 

Jimmy chuckled against your skin, his kisses full of teeth. “Sometimes.” 

You couldn’t help but smile, your eyes sparkling with humor as you met Sami’s gaze. “He’s just kidding,” you assured him, pulling him closer. “Kiss me again.” 

Sami quickly obliged, his persistent mouth on yours as Jimmy pressed more searing kisses to your neck and shoulders. It was normally Solo who would leave love bites and bruises across your delicate skin, but Jimmy was in a rare form tonight, his clever tongue licking and nipping wherever he could. His mouth was now latched to the underside of your jaw, a bruise blossoming beneath his lips. 

Sami’s kisses were becoming more desperate, his breath coming out in gasps, swallowing your moans as though he were a drowning man. He only made a sound of annoyance when Jimmy placed a calloused finger under your jaw and tore you away from Sami’s ministrations to claim your mouth for his own, your kiss wet and filthy. 

Sami’s erection pressed deeper into your hip and you moaned in response, wanting more than anything to be filled. Satisfied. 

“You’re welcome to stay, Sami,” The Tribal Chief interrupted, his voice low as he watched the three of you. “But you won’t fuck her. Not tonight. I don’t know if you’ve earned that yet.” 

Roman’s tone was light, but you could sense the seriousness behind his words. He’d already been more than generous, allowing Sami to taste what belonged only to the Bloodline. But he wouldn’t allow any more than a taste, not from any outsider, no matter how loyal they were to the Head of the Table. 

Sami’s brow furrowed at the Tribal Chief’s words and you could tell that he was frustrated, his hips stuttering against yours as he resisted the urge to grind against you. 

You looked over Sami’s shoulder and saw that the Tribal Chief’s eyes were narrowing, his patience already tested earlier by Jey’s outburst. “Sami. Come join me.” 

It was a warning. One that Sami was smart enough to hear. His hips stilled against yours, slowly climbing off of you and taking a seat in the chair closest to the bed. He adjusted himself before sitting down, clearly uncomfortable still in his jeans, but he didn’t complain, his eyes still heated as they met yours. 

Jimmy suckled another bruise behind your ear, his cock pressed thickly against your ass. You closed your eyes and relaxed in his arms, letting out a small whine as he twisted cruelly on one of your nipples. His breath was warm against your neck. “Want us both, sweetheart?” 

Always. 

“Yes, please.” You moaned, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting more than anything to be filled up and used. Wanting only to serve.

“Good girl,” Jimmy purred, curling his fingers in your hair to pull you into a kiss. You felt his hands on your hips, already twisting your body around to face him. 

“Don’t.” Roman’s firm voice startled you, your eyes flying open in alarm to look at him. You quickly realized that he wasn’t speaking to you, his angry gaze focused on Jey instead. It took you a moment to understand that Jey had been making his way over to the bed, about to join you and his brother before the Tribal Chief had stopped him. 

The twins almost always fucked you together - it was just their way. They had a near telepathic ability to communicate, their movements always in sync, almost as if they were one person who had been blessed with two bodies. Roman had never interfered, allowing his Bloodline to use you as they saw fit, but tonight was different. His eyes were narrowed at Jey, making it clear that he would not be permitted to touch you tonight. 

The two men faced off as if they were about to fight, Roman’s face completely stoic as Jey’s lip curled again, his golden teeth flashing in the dim lighting of the room. Sami watched the scene unfold with a nervous expression, wringing his hands together as his gaze flickered between the Tribal Chief and the Right Hand Man. Jey took another step forward and you made a distressed noise, pressing your face into Jimmy’s neck, a silent plea to stop this. You hated it when they argued. 

Jimmy shushed you, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead to keep you calm. As always, he knew exactly what you needed. “It’s alright, pretty girl. They don’t mean it. Come on, guys. You’re killin’ the vibe. Stressin’ our girl out for no damn reason.” 

Roman’s eyes met yours and you saw them soften. He never wanted to upset you. Not if he could help it. He leaned back in his chair, motioning towards Solo, who had been a silent spectator for most of the night. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Solo and Jimmy will take care of you tonight. We won’t fight anymore. Will we, Jey?” 

Despite his efforts to keep the peace, you could hear the threat behind Roman’s words, his tone making it clear that he would not tolerate any further disobedience. Jey scowled, his lip still curled, but he thankfully didn’t argue. 

The bed dipped again as Solo joined, his eyes meeting yours with such intensity that you felt your knees weaken. As much as you enjoyed the attention from the twins, you always felt comforted by Solo’s presence. He didn’t participate every night, sometimes content to sit back and watch, his normally stoic facade giving nothing away. You were glad he was here now, your hand reaching out to him almost instinctively to urge him to come closer. 

He took your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pressed a sweet kiss into your palm. You smiled at him, pulling him closer. He could be sweet when he wanted to be, despite his rough exterior. You knew he cared for you, his signs of affection small, but not unnoticed. You were pleased when he offered you a gentle kiss to your temple, another sign of his devotion to you. 

Still, you weren’t surprised when he quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you roughly from Jimmy’s grasp to manhandle you into the position he wanted. Solo might have his sweet moments, but he wasn’t one to fuck around. He knew what he wanted, and he took it. You tried to suppress a chuckle as you heard Jimmy grumble, clearly unhappy to not be calling the shots. Solo ignored him, already shoving his older brother roughly back down against the mattress. 

“Aye, yo, what the fuck, uce?” Jimmy protested, but he quickly silenced once he realized what was happening, watching with interest as Solo lifted you up to straddle Jimmy’s hips. You went easily, letting out a shaky breath as Jimmy’s erection nudged at your already slicked entrance. Jimmy looked up at you with a smirk, his hands already on your hips to keep you steady in his lap. 

“Bossy motherfucker,” Jimmy muttered, but there was no real heat behind his words, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked up at you. “Lift your hips, babygirl. Gonna fill that pretty pussy up.”  

You placed your hands on Jimmy’s tattooed chest, leaning up further and widening your legs to allow his tip to tease at your entrance. You shuddered as you took the first few inches, your toes curling at finally being filled. 

As you took more of Jimmy’s cock, you felt Solo move up behind you, his fingers threading into your hair as he pressed a searing bite under your jaw. Your eyelids fluttered at the feeling, bordering the line between pain and pleasure. You let out a gasp as he left a particularly vicious bite mark on your shoulder, yet another bruise to prove that you were claimed. Owned. 

“Solo’s gonna open you up, pretty girl,” Jimmy murmured as he leaned back, your eyes taking in the miles of golden muscle across his exposed chest. “Now be a good girl and sit on this dick.” 

You sank deeper onto his length, letting out a sharp gasp as your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Jimmy reached out and grabbed your chin, the grip punishing. “And what do you say?” 

Your eyelids fluttered and your pussy convulsed at his dominating words. Somehow, you managed to find the words. “Thank you, sir.” you whispered, watching Jimmy’s searing gaze twist into a smirk, his fingers tracing the shape of your lips. “Good girl.” 

When Solo’s fingers reached your ass, they were gentle, covered in lube as they slowly fingered you open. You felt your body instinctively tense at the intrusion, the walls of your pussy fluttering around Jimmy’s cock, causing him to let out a groan. 

You felt Solo’s other hand on your shoulder, his touch immediately causing you to still. “Just relax, pretty girl.” You heard Solo murmur, his voice grounding you. “I got you.” 

You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to relax as his fingers explored deeper inside you. The feeling was always strange, but not unwelcome, pleasure already beginning to spread across your body like wildfire. 

Jimmy bottomed out and all the oxygen left your lungs. Your mouth fell open as you felt his tip knock against your cervix. God, he felt so big at this angle. You shivered as you felt his cock twitch inside you, Solo adding another finger as he worked to scissor you open. When Solo pushed a little deeper, you felt an embarrassing sound emit from your throat, so whiny and needy that Jimmy laughed. 

“Almost there, little girl,” Jimmy rumbled, his grip on your hips still tight. “You can take it.” 

With Jimmy’s cock now stuffed deep inside, pleasure beginning to curl at the base of your spine, there was only thing you wanted to do: move. 

You lifted your hips experimentally, whining as Solo’s grip on your shoulder tightened to keep you still. “Not yet.” Solo scolded, adding yet another finger. “Don’t be greedy.” 

You couldn’t help by squirm in Jimmy’s lap, but you forced yourself to obey, the burn of Solo’s fingers a good reminder that if he didn’t take his time working you open he could hurt you. 

Eventually, Solo withdrew his fingers and you whimpered at the loss, your body already trembling with need. You weren’t sure how much longer you could wait, wanting more than anything to bounce on Jimmy’s cock until you saw stars. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye had you turning your head, watching as Jey paced beside the bed. His face was twisted in a mixture of anger and lust, his gaze occasionally flickering over to where Roman sat, almost as if he were pleading with the Tribal Chief to rescind his orders and allow him to join you. 

You wanted to reach out to him. Wanted to pull him close and kiss away those ugly feelings until he smiled again. Would Roman be mad if you did that? Although you belonged to the Tribal Chief, he was normally powerless to deny you anything. Seeing Jey stalk the length of the room like a caged animal had something aching in your chest, but then Solo’s lubed-up cock nudged against your empty hole and all thoughts flew from your head. 

You hadn’t realized that you were shaking so much, though whether it was from excitement or nervousness you weren’t sure. Jimmy seemed to take pity on you. “Come here, babygirl,” he murmured, sitting up to wrap his arms around you, taking the weight from your already aching knees. You leaned into him, your forehead falling into the crook of his neck. 

You let out a high-pitched keen as Solo continued to push deeper into you, the feeling growing more and more intense with every inch. Solo let out a low groan, his hand gripping your shoulder tightly. “Such a good girl,” he breathed, his hips stuttering as he resisted the urge to plunge deeper without giving you time to adjust. Jimmy shifted inside you and you felt his length graze against your g-spot, the feeling sending electric shocks up your spine as you clenched around him. 

“Fuck!” Jimmy hissed, his hands moving down and gripping your ass to spread you open for his brother. “Jesus, I’m not gonna be able to last if she keeps doing all that.” 

You barely heard him, the feeling of Solo’s cock splitting you open making your eyes roll back into your head, your own heartbeat in your ears. 

Another inch and you felt your knees buckle, but you didn’t fall - not with Jimmy’s hands on your ass and Solo’s hand on your shoulder. You felt your pussy spasm helplessly around Jimmy’s cock, the feeling making you want to crawl out of your skin with want. 

“Fu…fuck,” you babbled, your body tensing as Solo pushed deeper. “Too big.” You gasped, your hands scrabbling for purchase against Jimmy’s strong body. 

“You can take it, honey,” Jimmy crooned in your ear, his large hands keeping you speared on Solo’s cock. “Now be a good slut and relax for me.”

Your pussy contracted at his words, your mouth placing feverish kisses against Jimmy’s neck. Jimmy groaned, his cock twitching inside you as you began to lift your hips, still impatient despite the intensity of the feeling of two dicks inside you. 

“So tight,” Solo gasped, his grip on your shoulder becoming punishing. You whimpered at the feeling, leaning up to give a messy kiss to Jimmy’s mouth. With one final thrust, Solo was fully seated inside you, his body flush against yours. You froze, your muscles tense and toes curling. You let out a shuttering gasp against Jimmy’s lips and the look he gave you was positively sinful.

“She looks so fucked out, uce,” Jimmy breathed, one of his hands coming up to wipe the sweaty hair from your face. 

Solo leaned forward, his fingers under your jaw to turn your face towards him. Your mouth was open as you let out small, desperate pants, your eyes dazed when you met his. He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss against your heated skin. 

When both of them moved at the same time, you felt your eyes cross. They fucked you together, not nearly as in sync as the twins normally did, but you found that you didn’t care. With each knock against your cervix your pussy constricted around Jimmy’s cock, making his hips stutter in response. 

“Fuck, your pussy is perfect,” Jimmy growled, his canines nipping against your neck. “So fucking tight.” He adjusted his thrusts and suddenly he was hitting your g-spot with devastating precision. You cried out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes at just how good it felt. Solo let out a groan, his warm hand pressing between your shoulder blades, hips snapping faster as you continued to clench down on him. 

Jimmy’s hand was on your jaw, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. You met his dark eyes, eyelids fluttering, mesmerized by his gaze. The pleasure was becoming overwhelming, your body impossibly full, both holes stretched and abused by two members of the Tribal Chief’s Bloodline. It was all becoming too much. 

“Please, Daddy, please,” you begged, the pleasure threatening to push you over the edge. Solo’s hand wrapped your throat, his fingers pressing down hard enough to bruise. You arched your back, tight as a bow. “Please!” You cried, unwilling to finish without your Tribal Chief’s permission. 

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” Roman’s voice was closer than you realized, and you opened your eyes to see that he was standing beside the bed, his fingers reaching out to brush across your sweaty brow. “Beg me for it and I promise I’ll give it to you.” 

Jimmy’s thrusts began to falter and you knew he was close, your own orgasm just a hair's breadth away. “Please, Daddy,” you begged, your eyes crossing as Jimmy continued to pound into that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. “Please, let me come. Please, please, please.” 

The Tribal Chief’s words were as sweet as honey. “Come for me, baby.” 

Pleasure ravaged your body, muscles jerking and your mouth parted in a silent scream. Your pussy spasmed and convulsed, milking Jimmy’s cock as he continued to slam into you, punching the air from your lungs. He was close, sweat dripping down his brow. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he swore, his mouth on your shoulder as he finally spilled inside you, the feeling warm and euphoric. 

Solo wasn’t far behind, his grip tightening around your throat. “What a good slut,” he snarled, smacking your ass so hard you groaned. His thrusts were becoming harder and more erratic, his grip on your throat so tight that you found yourself fighting for air. 

With one final thrust Solo spilled inside you too. You made a pitiful sound as he released your throat, your head falling into Jimmy’s shoulder. You forced yourself to focus on the feeling of Jimmy’s warm body beneath you, the only thing anchoring you to the earth as the aftershocks of your orgasm left you twitching. Your insides felt gooey, muscles still shaking as Jimmy held onto you, keeping you from collapsing. 

“Good girl,” Someone whispered in your ear, their voice sounding far away. “So sweet. So perfect.” 

You let out a whine as Solo pulled out, your hole clenching down on emptiness. You felt exposed and vulnerable, and he ran a soothing hand down your back, as if he were calming a frightened animal. “You’re okay, baby. We got you.” 

When Jimmy pulled out you felt your mind short-circuit, his load trickling down your inner thigh and onto his exposed stomach. You let out a breathy gasp at the feeling, your body still trembling in his arms. “Shhh,” Jimmy soothed, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead. “Just relax, honey. I gotchu.” 

They were gentle as they laid you down on the bed, their hands no longer grabbing to bruise, their mouths no longer seeking to bite. You let out a small sigh, your body aching and your holes still twitching and spasming from abuse. 

You tried to form a coherent thought, but you felt brain-dead, too drunk on cock to think. All you could do was lay there, babbling the only word you could think of: Jey. 

You repeated his name over and over again like a mantra, letting out a small sigh as you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The Tribal Chief pressed a kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle. 

“What do you need, pretty girl?” 

You made a distressed noise, your fingers reaching out towards nothing. “Jey.” You whispered, your eyelids fluttering. “Jey.” 

The Tribal Chief’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with anger. You reached out to grasp at Roman’s arm, your eyes pleading. 

“Please, Daddy,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from abuse. “Please.” 

Roman frowned, his expression displeased as he reached out to stroke your hair. You shivered beneath his touch, knowing that while he had never denied you anything you desired, you were asking for too much. It wasn’t your place to interfere with the Tribal Chief’s methods of keeping his Bloodline obedient, especially if he felt disrespected by his own Right Hand Man. 

Still, you couldn’t help but clutch at his arm, your eyes wet with tears. You needed Jey, the same way you needed all of them. 

The Tribal Chief’s gaze softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He let out an exasperated chuckle. “Greedy girl,” He was shaking his head, but he didn't look angry. He looked almost amused. “But you know I can’t ever say no to you, hm?” 

You couldn’t help but smile, nuzzling into his hand as he stroked your hair. 

The Tribal Chief pressed one final kiss to your cheek before standing up, his eyes flashing over to where Jey stood. His smile immediately dropped, his jaw now ticked in annoyance as he returned to his seat. He met Jey's questioning gaze with a frown, but he didn’t say anything. Thankfully, Jey understood that he was being given permission, no matter how begrudging it was, and he quickly stripped his shirt and climbed onto the bed before Roman changed his mind. 

You let out a contented sigh as Jey moved between your legs, his soft lips against yours instantly. His smell was in your nose, sandalwood and bergamot, already making you dizzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, comforted by his presence. 

“Why’d you do that, babygirl?” You heard Jey whisper in your ear, too low for anyone else to hear. You held onto him tightly, completely at ease now that he was with you. You weren’t sure you had an answer for him, so you leaned up to kiss him again, hoping that your actions could convey everything he made you feel. 

I want you. I need you. I love you. 

Jey seemed to understand. He always did. He smiled down at you, a burst of sunshine, before leaning down to return to your kiss, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. You reached up to tangle your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, wanting desperately to taste every inch of him. 

His cock slipped into you easily, your cunt still soaking wet from your previous orgasms, his brother and cousin’s come still leaking out from where they’d claimed you earlier. He gasped at the feeling, his forehead pressed against yours as he felt your velvety walls spasm and contract around him. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned, his hips already moving against yours. “My perfect girl.” 

The feeling of him inside you had you relaxing in his arms, each thrust of his hips sending you deeper and deeper into euphoria. Having him inside you was like coming up for air, all the tension bleeding from your muscles as he fucked into you. You melted into the mattress, your eyes fluttering as pleasure curled inside you. 

You’re more relaxed than you’d been all night, Jey’s perfect cock turning your brain into mush as you felt nothing but bliss. You felt him smile into the next kiss he gave you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. 

“You feel good, baby?” His tone was almost teasing, as if he knew just how lost you were in the pleasure he was giving you, his treatment turning you into nothing more than a brain-dead cocksleeve. When his clever fingers found your clit, you thought you would vibrate out of your skin in ecstasy, your mouth falling open at the feeling. 

You felt him chuckle, his talented fingers so good against you that you felt tears spring into your eyes. 

“It’s alright, pretty girl,” he cooed, his words gentle despite the brutal snap of his hips, quickly picking up speed as he chased his own pleasure. “I gotchu. Gonna take care of you, mamas.” 

You felt helpless as your orgasm rapidly approached, your muscles trembling from how good he was fucking you. His long fingers began to pick up the pace against your clit, matching the fast rhythm of his hips. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last, heat tingling at the base of your spine. 

“Daddy,” You gasped, still coherent enough to remember to ask for permission. “Please, can I come?” 

There was no answer and you felt the tears begin to fall, your self-control already eroding away with each clever twist of Jey’s fingers. 

“Please, Daddy!” You cried, your orgasm so close that you weren’t sure if you could stop it now, even if you wanted to. “Please!” 

You sobbed in relief when you finally heard the Tribal Chief speak. “You can come, pretty girl.” 

The tension snapped. You were engulfed in never-ending pleasure, your pussy tightening and gushing around Jey’s cock as you came, your eyes rolling back into your head as bliss overtook you. You heard Jey swear at the feeling, your release triggering his own as he spilled inside you, painting your insides with his hot, sticky seed. 

Your muscles were shaking, overstimulation now causing Jey’s pleasure to border on pain. But none of it mattered. Despite the tears streaming down your face, you rolled your hips to milk his cock through both of your orgasms, desperate to please. Desperate to serve. 

[therealcocoshady]

Hey coco I seen your latest story and I was wondering if you could do the complete opposite where reader and Marshall are in a long term relationship and they have sex and he’s in a rush and he doesn’t clean reader up at all and kinda leaves really quickly and reader feels like a hoe and gets in her feels about it .

A/N : thank you so much for your request ! I really liked the idea so I came up with a little something. I hope you enjoy it ☺️💕. Please don’t mind the title. I’m exhausted and I wrote the first thing that comes to mind 🤣.

The Birkin Diplomacy

CW : Eminem being a really sucky boyfriend and a cocky bastard 😅 ; reconciliation

Marshall leaned against the headboard, the low hum of the city filtering through the slightly cracked window of your bedroom. The sheets were tangled around your legs, still heavy with the warmth of your embrace. He pulled a hand through his messy hair, damp from sweat, as he exhaled. For a moment, he seemed present—his gaze fixed on you in the dim light, the edges of his sharp features softened by exhaustion. You studied him, your head resting on his chest. You couldn’t help but think there was something mesmerizing about your man. You always found him fascinating, but orgasm always gave him a nice glow. In the dim light of your room, he seemed even more ethereal. If it weren’t for his heartbeat, steady and strong, you could have sworn he wasn’t really. You basked in this delicious feeling for a while, catching your breath, enjoying the comforting feeling of his skin against yours. But then, right as you were about to fall asleep, he pulled away. 

« Gotta go, » he mumbled before getting up. « What? » you asked, propping yourself up on an elbow, in a voice edged with disbelief. He simply shrugged before answering, not exactly apologetic. « Late-night session. Dre’s in town. Can’t leave him hanging » he explained as he slid out of bed. How movements were quick, almost mechanical; as he started to put his clothes on. You frowned and watched as he moved around the room. You body was still aching from him, from your connection. You had given yourself to him completely, as you had always done and yet… He was leaving. You couldn’t help but feel your heart break a little. « Marshall… Can’t it wait? » you asked, your voice breaking slightly. « I feels like I barely see you, these days ». 

He sighed and looked at you. For a moment, it seemed like his icy blue eyes were softening. But then his shoulders sagged, and the weight of his responsibilities seemed to settle on him again. « You know how it is, babe. I’ve got work to do. We’re close to finishing the album ». And just like that, he was gone—out the door with a rushed kiss on your forehead, leaving you alone in your bed, body still marked by his touch. You stared at the ceiling, your chest tightening as frustration and hurt bubbled up inside you. Nearly two years of being babe. His girlfriend. His source of comfort and support. Almost two years of sticking with him through thick and thin. Two years of him calling you his princess, his queen… And now, he had you feeling like a cheap whore, your cozy bedroom reduced to a vulgar brothel. He didn’t even help you clean up. Yet, somehow, it was the fancy bracelet he had gifted you a couple of days ago that had you feeling dirty. When you had opened the box, you had been mesmerized by the way the diamonds caught the light but now, it felt like a bauble, a weak attempt at making up for the attention he didn’t give you. And if he thought you were one of these hoes that would turn a blind eye to their bed being empty as long as they had tiny things to look at, he was dead wrong. This, you were about to remind him of. 

The idea came to you as a sharp, defiant spark. Sitting up, you wrapped yourself in the sheet, your resolve growing stronger with each step toward the closet. Marshall had showered you with lavish gifts over the course of your relationship—designer handbags, sparkling jewelry, even a pair of limited-edition sneakers he’d bragged about snagging before anyone else. You gathered them one by one, piling them into an empty box from a recent delivery. Each item carried a memory, a moment when you’d thought you were his priority, his anchor. Now, they felt hollow, like symbols of a love that had become one-sided. Next, you opened the drawer where you kept a spare key to his house. Your fingers trembled as you placed it on top of the pile. You’d carried that key everywhere, a token of trust and commitment. Now, it felt heavy with the weight of his neglect. And for all you cared, he could give it to someone else. Someone who would be willing to put up with the disrespect. But that someone wouldn’t be you. You had many flaws, but being unaware of your worth certainly wasn’t one of them. The final touch was a deliberate act of rebellion. Pulling out your phone, you searched for the number of a high-end escort service you’d once overheard a friend joking about. You scribbled it down on a sticky note in bold, dark letters, then stuck it to the top of the box. « Here » you mumbled. « Now you can save on presents and have a cheap hoe ». 

The next morning, the courier arrived promptly. You gave the box one last glance, your heart thudding in your chest. A small part of you hesitated—did you really want to do this? But the memory of his hurried departure, of the way he’d made you feel so disposable, spurred you forward. « Delivery for Marshall Mathers, » you said, your voice steady as you handed it over.

Later that day, Marshall was at his studio, downing what seemed to be his hundredth can of Redbull, trying to stay awake. Dre had left the studio shortly before, and he was trying to go over the track they had recorded. He groaned as the receptionist came to him and handed him a package addressed to him. « Who’s it from? » he asked, his brows furrowed. She simply shrugged, mumbling something about a courrier. He sat the box on his desk and opened it slowly, his confusion growing with each item he uncovered. The bracelet, the earrings, the sneakers, the bags… All these were presents he had gifted you. His breath caught when he saw the key, glinting under the soft light of his studio office. But it was the sticky note that stopped him. A phone number. Of course, he didn’t waste any time and immediately took out his phone to dial it. 

His heart pounded as he hit the call button, curiosity and dread warring within him. The line rang once. Twice. « Hello, » a smooth, almost rehearsed voice answered on the other end. « You’ve reached Luxe Companions, Detroit’s premier escort service. How can I help you today? » He froze. « Wait—what? » he stammered, his voice pitching higher than usual. « This is Luxe Companions, » the voice repeated, professional and patient. « Would you like to make a booking? » Marshall’s mouth went dry as realization hit him like a freight train. His eyes widened, and his grip on the phone tightened. No. No way.  « Uh… nah, » he muttered, struggling to form coherent words. « I think I… uh… I think I got the wrong number. » There was a brief pause on the other end, as if the operator was used to this sort of reaction. « Very well, sir. If you change your mind, feel free to call back. » Marshall ended the call abruptly, dropping his phone onto the desk as though it had burned him. His jaw hung open as he stared at the offending sticky note, now armed with a whole new layer of meaning.

« She didn’t, » he said aloud, shaking his head in disbelief. « She wouldn’t. » But you absolutely had.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the office. His mind spun in a chaotic loop: you were pissed, and this was your way of making sure he knew it. The message was loud and clear now—if you don’t make time for me, someone else will. The audacity of it stung, but so did the truth behind it. He collapsed into a chair, still holding the note as if it might give him more answers. Less than an hour later, Marshall was standing outside of your door, the sticky note still crumpled in his fist. Maybe it was a side-effect of the exhaustion or the energy drink, but his lips were twitching with a mix of frustration and amusement as he knocked. He had to admit there was something about the audacity, the sheer, unfiltered nerve of your move. He wasn’t sure whether he was mad, impressed or both. 

The door opened just wide enough for you to peek out. Your eyes locked on him, cold and unyielding.  « What do you want, Marshall? » you asked, your voice clipped.  « Well, » he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, « I came to return this. » He held up the note. « Thought maybe you’d accidentally sent me the number to a… uh… high-end hospitality service. »  Your eyes narrowed, your poker face slipping just enough to show a hint of satisfaction. « Accidentally? No. That was very much intentional ».  He let out a chuckle and shook his head. « I figured. You really went there, huh? ». 

You pushed the door open a little more, standing tall with your arms crossed. « You left me in bed like I was nothing. No cuddling. No conversation. Just ‘wham, bam, thanks, ma’am,’ and out the door. » Your voice was calm but laced with venom.  He winced, raising his hands in surrender. « Okay, I get it. I was a jerk. A giant, oblivious, selfish jerk. But damn, sending me to call an escort service? That’s cold, Y/N. »  You couldn’t help but scoff at his audacity. « Was it, now ?! » you shot back, your tone sharp. « I thought it was rather creative ». 

Marshall bit back a grin, trying to stay serious. « Alright, look, » he said, stepping closer. « I know I screwed up. I know I’ve been all over the place, and I’ve been taking you for granted. That’s on me. But come on, babe. You really think I’d go through with calling someone else? ». You leaned against the doorframe, studying him. « I don’t know, Marshall. You’ve been treating me like an afterthought lately. I had to remind you I’m not some cheap hoe. »  At that, his lips curved into a slow smirk. « Cheap? Nah. You’re way too high-maintenance for that. »   Your eyes narrowed, but he pressed on before you could retort.  « Not to be that guy, but… Birkin bags aren’t exactly cheap »  He gestured to your living room, where the infamous orange box your bag had come in sat on a side table. « You’re not a cheap hoe, baby. You’re an expensive one. Top-shelf. »  The audacity of his words made your jaw drop. « Are you fucking serious right now? » you hissed, though your lips, betraying that you were fighting a smile.  « I’m just saying, » he said, raising a brow. « If I’m gonna grovel, might as well acknowledge you’re in a league of your own. »  

As much as you appreciated witty banter, your faint smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. You pulled back, crossing your arms over your chest. « You think this is some sort of joke? » you asked coldly. « You think you can insult me twice in a row and that a clever wording is going to make it ok? ». He blinked, caught off guard. « Woah, hold up » he started, but you cut him off.  « No, seriously, Marshall. You think calling me ‘high-maintenance’ or joking about Birkin bags is cute? I never once asked for any of that stuff. »   Your words hit him like a slap. The air between the two of you grew heavier as your frustration spilled over.  « Do you think throwing expensive gifts at me is some kind of substitute for actually being here? » you continued, your voice rising. « You waltz in with flashy things like it’s gonna make up for the fact that you’re barely present anymore. And then you have the audacity to crack a joke about it? Like I’m some gold digger you need to bribe? »  He opened his mouth to respond but faltered, realizing he had nothing to say that wouldn’t make it worse.  « You know what I value, Marshall? Time. Effort. Real things. Not overpriced bags or shoes or necklaces that just sit in a closet. If I wanted someone who could buy me things, I wouldn’t have chosen you. I wanted you. But apparently, that’s asking too much. »  

Your voice cracked on the last words, and you quickly turned away, your hands gripping the doorframe as you tried to regain some composure.  He stared at you, guilt gnawing at him. Every word you’d said was true, and he knew it. You weren’t materialistic—you never had been. The gifts had always been his way of showing love in the moments he couldn’t be there, an attempt to show that he thought you deserved the very best, but now he saw how empty they must have felt without his presence to back them up. « Hey, » he said softly, stepping closer but keeping his distance. « You’re right. I messed up. Again. »  You didn’t respond, your back still to him. « I thought the gifts… I don’t know… I thought they’d remind you how much you mean to me when I wasn’t around. But I see now that it probably just felt like I was buying my way out of being a better boyfriend. »  You turned to face him, eyes glistening but fierce. « Exactly. I don’t care about the money, Marshall. I don’t care about any of it. I would have loved you just as much if you’d been broke. What I care about is feeling like I actually matter to you. Like I’m not just here for when it’s convenient. » 

« You do matter, » he said, his voice thick with emotion. « More than anything. I know I’ve been screwing up left and right, lately, and you deserve way better than the half-assed version of me you’ve been getting. » You studied him, your walls still up, unsure if you wanted to believe him. « Words aren’t enough, Marshall. You know that. » He nodded with understanding. « I know, » he said quickly. « And I’m not gonna stand here and tell you I’ve got all the answers or that I’m magically gonna fix everything overnight. But I’m gonna show you, piece by piece, day by day, that you’re not just some afterthought to me. I can’t lose you. Not over this. Not over anything. »  The raw sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You wanted to hold on to your anger, to make him work for it. But there was something in his eyes—a mix of regret and determination—that chipped away at your defenses. Damn baby blue eyes. « You’ve got a lot to prove, » you said after a long silence.  « I know, » he replied, nodding earnestly. « And no more Birkin jokes, » you added sharply. He raised his hands in surrender. « Scout’s honor. »  For the first time in the conversation, your lips twitched into an actual smile. « You’re lucky I care about you, you know that? »  He exhaled in relief, stepping closer. « Nah, I’m lucky for a million reasons. But mostly because you’re still willing to give me a chance to fix this. » Your eyes softened, though you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. « Don’t make me regret it.»  

« I won’t, » he promised, taking your hand. « And for the record, you’re way more valuable than a Birkin bag. Like… priceless. Top-shelf, remember? »  You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull your hand away. « You’re really pushing it. » He couldn’t help but give you a shit-eating grin. « Yeah, but that’s why you love me, right? ».   

[tinylilacbun]

I feel like it would be so funny qhen the pogues find out jj already got a new job, and then find out is a job babysitting for kooks. I feel like everyone in the room would be speechless at first and pope would be like "babysit to what, a dog?" "no?? she's three. very cute by the way-and wait, is that even a thing?" "oh, poor kid🤦🏿‍♂️" and altought they all suport each other, they're all kiiind of insecure reguarding jj's new "awesome" plan, because, well, they don't think jj is actually the most patient and responsible to be around kids. I mean, how did he even got this job? How could someone look at jj and think "wow, he's so good with babies"

but then they would all change their minds on the first time jj brings reader to hang out with them, and they witness JJ turn into a role different version of himself - helping reader do basic things like braiding her hair or eat her veggies, and even nap with her laying on his chest in the couch while the pogues are all staring in... awe and confusion? lmao I would be too

Wait, can I request something with this concept?

I can so imagine them being like "Nah, you gotta be joking." And then JJ pulls out his phone showing all the silly photos he has of you both together, being all smug about it too and the pogues are completely baffled looking at him like: 😦

They're asking him various questions, like how's the pay? How the hell he managed to get a babysitter job, knowing this boy can't even take care of himself for all we know. How kooks trust JJ freaking maybank with their kid??

The pogues are concerned that their friend is being threatened to say that your parents are actually really nice and pay him well, so well that he doesn't want to bring it up.

Obviously they want proof of that and see it for themselves, so JJ asks your parents if he could take his friends with him next time he babysits before anything else and of course your parents said yes, why wouldn't they? They trust him.

And so the pogues finally meet the reason JJ has been rather busy lately as you come running from your room the second you hear his voice, crashing into his awaiting arms.

"Jayj! Missed you so much." You giggle as JJ stands up with you clinging to him, your legs dangling in the air.

"I was here two days ago." He reminds you with a chuckle and you pout.

"Still missed you!"

Then you notice his friends standing behind him, a smile growing on each of their faces. JJ sets you back down and you go to hide behind his legs, suddenly shy from all the new people as you whisper out a small 'hi'.

Kie and Sarah coo at how adorable you are, just wanting to pinch your cheeks. John B, Pope, and Cleo just give you a small wave, which you of course return.

"You gotta give her some time to warm up, and don't touch her until she says it's okay." JJ warns them, his hand ruffling your hair.

Some time later the others are actually impressed by how attentive JJ is with you, always answering when you ask something no matter how silly it is, playing with you what you want, even getting you to eat the nasty veggies.

Now you all are sprawled on the big sofa in the living room, your favorite movie playing on the tv but you're already napping on JJ's chest as he draws shapes on your back.

"I have to be honest, I really thought you were kidding us with this whole thing but damn JJ you really know what you're doing." John says, watching how gentle the blonde is with you, he's never seen his best friend being this soft with anyone, much less a kook.

JJ shushes him, pressing a finger to his lips. "Princess is getting her beauty sleep, don't you dare disrupt that, bro."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

Hold Me When I Stand

Pairing: Cross/Epic

Rating: Teen

Synopsis: Inspired by the Drabble idea I wrote a while back and the GORGEOUS art @toffeebrews made, Epic finally reveals why Cross had never seen his hands bare before, until now.

CW: None I can think of, but do let me know if there should be one

Part 1 of 3: Wuh Oh, Trauma

Word Count: 5, 490

Best friends notice everything about each other.

Everything, from blatant details like disliking ketchup (except when mixed with chocolate)--

Cross’s face scrunched up as Delta and Color knocked their bottles of ketchup together before they tilted their skulls back and chugged. “You guys are gross.” They laughed at his “skrunkly” expression, as Epic called it.

–to bright, bubbly laughter tumbling out in jubilant “mwehs” when truly relaxed.

Epic watched as Cross laughed, breath catching in his throat as Cross laughed so hard he cried, mirthful tears welling in the edges of his sockets and mana painted his cheekbones like lilac flower kisses.

To preferring bandanas over ascots because bandanas “are cooler ‘cause they’re like badass mini scarves”.

Epic kept track of it all. Whenever he discovered chocolate with a(n) unusual ingredient(s), a delighted smile on a cherished face would enter his mind, and the now unimportant cost was promptly brushed aside. That bright laughter his friend was ashamed of made Epic swear he glowed with the light of his Soul. And occasionally, he’d sew matching bandanas that Cross would wear on his neck while Epic adorned his own atop his skull.

But Epic was not the only one who adored his best friend.

Along with observing and noting the more obvious details, there were also more subtle nuances, like despising grass stains due to constant difficulty with clothes–

Epic holds up a pair of tan lace up boots now decorated in murky green splotches. “Look Color, I like hangin’ with ya, but if I gotta get a new pair of boots from one more hike I’m gonna lose it man.”

–and channeling that annoyance into an insult.

“Delta you grass stain you keep that battery acid out of my cookie dough right the flip now or I’m gonna snick snack paddywhack kick yo’ sorry sunny d ass!” Epic warned. He kept the bowl of his precious cookie dough out of reach from his friend with one hand and smacking Delta’s offending claw with the other.

Or always wearing gloves no matter the occasion.

Were his hands covered in nicks and scars like Cross’s claws? Did he simply enjoy the feeling of smooth leather on his bones? Was it a comfort like his bandanas were for him?

Or staring at mirrors with phalanges gripping the socket edges of a rarely opened scarred left eye, expression so dark and twisted and in startlingly contrast to the usual bright and playful grin that adorned those pretty bones.

Best friends notice everything about each other.

Cross watches as Epic rubs his eyes when he thinks Cross isn’t looking. His hands fall from his exhausted face, tired shadows painting his hooded eyes mauve, adding an alluring, faux smokey look that makes his snow white and electric violet eyelights pop.

Epic makes crippling exhaustion look hauntingly beautiful, like the ghost of sleep is forever trying to sink its claws in, success held so high out of reach the spirit never managed to grasp it. The way the shadows dance and light cradles Epic’s face, draping themselves over the contours of smooth ivory bone is like he's a painting come to life, of exhausted reverie so beautiful Cross knows without doubt the sight will haunt him for all the nights to come.

And when Epic glances over at him and his scarred Eye closes but his smile brightens, Cross’s chest floods with affectionate warmth as his best friend’s eyes glitter, terribly fond and enviably beautiful in its endearing glow. Cross quickly turns away, his smile strangely quirked at the corners and Soulbeat just a little faster to have been caught staring.

It’s only a matter of time before they learn everything about each other, too.

“Ah shit,” Epic cursed. He turned off the stove and glared at the offending sauce pan that had the audacity of bubbling and splattering itself, now coating the countertop, his sweater, and leather gloves in a greasy disaster zone of oil. “That was my last clean pair…”

“Here,” Cross picked up the towel and started to scrub the mess on the counter. “I can clean up while you change.”

“Alright, thanks bruh.” Epic was about to offer his fist for a bump before he reconsidered and sheepishly tilted his head to the side instead. Luckily Cross understood and leaned forward to softly bonk their skulls together.

“No worries dude.”

While Epic changed, Cross went ahead and threw out the oil. He’d burned his cooking enough times to realize that it had been burned beyond salvation and tossed it out. Scrubbing the pan and letting it soak while he wiped down the countertop was menial, almost relaxing as he methodically wiped and washed off the sullied kitchen area.

By the time Epic returned Cross was scrubbing his claws dry. He leaned back on the counter behind him while he waited for him to finish. “Ty man, oil spills are so annoying to clean up.”

Eh, not really. Out of all the things he’s had to clean, oil splatters on a countertop was nothing, in his opinion. Nowhere near as difficult as, say, getting chocolate stains or gunpowder out of his clothes. “De nada.”

Epic made a little noise of protest and reached out to him.

“Here lemme get that.” He held out his hand.

Cross handed him the towel. “Thanks. By the way, do you wanna go out later and–” he trailed off, noticing that Epic was wearing the same leather gloves.

As Epic put the towel in the laundry, Cross gave his best friend a quick, perplexed once-over. He’d changed out of his cable-knit sweater and now wore a new, form-fitting turtleneck that hugged his lush curves. He had the hood up (as usual) but now wore his long-sleeved jacket instead of trenchcoat. His lovely friend was dressed as pleasingly as ever, nothing odd there.

What was odd was that Epic still had on the same pair of leather gloves. That covered the leather in greasy splotches that made Cross’s own claws itch in sympathy.

Cross quirked a brow. “Forget something parce?”

“Uh,” Epic tilted his skull to the side. “Oh!”

He leaned forward suddenly, but Cross is used to them sharing each other’s personal bubbles and doesn’t react. It’s only when Epic’s throat vibrates in a low, rising hum and he presses a quick, appreciative peck on Cross’s cheek that the soldier shivers while his cheekbones burn with lilac mana and his Soul flutters.

“Mmmmwah!” Epic pulled back with cheeks dusted indigo. His unscarred eye crinkles into an upturned crescent when he smiles. “Thanks for cleaning.”

“¿Qué estás haciendo—” Cross sputtered “—your gloves, dude!”

“What about ‘em?”

“What about — they're dirty!”

“Yuh, an’ I’ll change ‘em later, no worries,” Epic dismissed. “I need to do laundry so I’ll change ‘em later.”

“Okay?” Epic was no slob. He showered daily, always used those scented soaps that made Cross forcibly resist the urge to noticeably inhale his scent, usually wore some kind of floral perfume or cologne, and always changed his gloves whenever they were dirty. Sure Cross never saw him do that, but he’d always seen Epic return with a new pair. So, why was he being so hesitant now?

…Come to think of it, had Cross ever seen Epic take his gloves off?

“You’re not gonna change them?”

“Naaaah.”

Flummoxed, Cross watched Epic step pass him and wash his hands, gloves and all, in the sink. Epic shook his hands off and patted them dry on a new towel. “See? All clean now.”

Epic popped the fridge door open and rummaged through it. Cross stood beside him, increasingly confused as Epic planned aloud. “I messed up the sauce and haveta start from scratch but I’m still cravin’ souped up ramen. How ‘bout you?”

“Yeah sure whichever — what’re you doing dude?”

Cradling bundles of food Epic deposited them down on the kitchen counter. Cross shut the door behind him and followed closely as Epic started to prep. His soaked gloves glistened.

“Well I burned the OG so now I gotta make another—”

Cross put his hand over Epic’s, stopping him from peeling the garlic. Epic lets go of the peeler to hold Cross’s hand in his, and Cross warms at how readily Epic dismisses his previous task in favor of Cross holding him.

“Here,” Cross curls his distal phalanx in to catch at the end of the glove. “Let’s take this—” the moment his phalanx caught on the leather rim Epic jolted, roughly yanking his hand away like Cross had burned him.

Cross’s chest grew tight and his hand felt empty but Epic ignored the flash of hurt that flew across his face and kept his face hidden so Cross couldn’t see the guilt and regret and fear. Avoiding his gaze, he kept his back turned to Cross as he resumed his meal prep.

“I told you it’s fine. It’ll dry off in no time.”

What the hell?

The rejection stung. Epic might as well have stabbed him in the chest, his Soul ached like he had.

Frustration bubbles amid the hurt he hates that his first response when he’s hurt is to be angry, he’s never liked it especially when he knows he wasn’t always an angry man and Cross’s previously soft eyelights narrow into sharp slits.

“Come on dude just take it off.”

Epic’s shoulders were hunched as he chopped the garlic and ginger. His magic illuminated the kettle, setting the water to boil with a flick.

“No, I don’t want to. It’s fine.” Cross tried to reach for his hand but Epic side-stepped him, gracefully dodging just out of reach as he reached for the soy sauce. “Don’t stress it.”

But Cross was a persistent bastard. “Dude, come on.”

This time when Epic started to pour the boiling water he glared at Cross’s missed swipe, beginning to feel irritated himself.

“Again, just drop it.”

Cross grabbed the instant noodles before Epic could. His best friend stared, unimpressed, with a pursed frown. “Really?”

“Yes really,” Cross’s frown deepened.

“Brah, it’s fine. I’ll change ‘em later, okay?” Epic poked Cross right where he knew the other was ticklish, surprising him enough to snatch the noodles back and add them to the broth. “Jus’ not now.”

“You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not!” Epic protested.

Cross quirked a brow. “You’re being weird right now,” he retorted.

The two locked gazes. Epic’s phalanges drummed against the countertop. Cross held the block of cheddar he needed to shred within his crossed arms. The soldier counted on time; Epic needed to get the cheese in before the noodles softened or else they would be too mushy (Epic taught him that).

Like Cross expected, Epic relented first. He sighed and closed his eye. “OK, fine. I’ll go change them.”

He could just do it here? But at least it was something.

Pleased, Cross nodded, uncrossing his arms to swiftly shred the cheese and throw it into the pan. “Thank you.”

“Keep an eye on the broth?”

“And I’ll throw in the seasonings too, I got it.” Cross opened the packets. Epic nodded gratefully.

He vanished in a spark of magic.

Cross cracked a couple eggs to add to the broth and closed the lid, setting it to a medium low slimmer to slow cook the eggs. He didn’t mind if it was overcooked or not, but he remembered that Epic’s favorite way to eat them was when the yolks were runny. When Epic returned a few minutes later, this time wearing long, rubber gloves that he often wore for washing the dishes, Cross contemplated whacking him with the pan.

“¿Hablas en serio?”

“Sinabi ko na sayo,” Epic chirped, his smug little grin annoyingly charming. He set out two bowls for them both, carefully pouring the ramen into each, the eggs jiggling but remaining unbroken atop the noodles. “It’s not a big deal, I just like wearing gloves.”

Cross knew his best friend. There was something more to this. His Soul could feel it. He accepted the chopsticks Epic handed him to softly set them down. “Epic,” his best friend pauses mid-scoop of his dish, “seriously, why are you being so cagey about this?”

A horrible, gnawing thought. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

There. Right there.

Epic’s face was the same, he’d always had an impeccable poker face, but it was his eye. The beautiful glow of that ivory orb dimmed.

Epic fidgeted. Slowly taking a single, small bite and chewing without reaching for more.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt your hands or something?”

“No, no,” Epic murmured, “I’m not hurt.”

Okay, good. He was being more open.

Cross continued his gentle questioning. “Is it a tattoo?”

That got a little snort out of Epic. He covered his mouth to hide it, but Cross had heard the bubbly laugh and his own chest felt lighter. “Cross, come on. Y’know the only tats I’ve gotten are the silly temp ones.”

Delighted that his dear friend was cheering up, the soldier persisted. “It can’t be that bad.” Cross hummed in thought. “What? You got drunk and got a tramp stamp but it’s in your hand? Wait…” Cross paused. “Do you have a tramp stamp?”

Epic guffawed. “Stars, no. Maybe a temp one as a joke but nah. Definitely no tats on this guy, sorry bud.”

A smile quirked at Cross’s mouth. He was glad Epic had relaxed. But he knew he had to keep trying. Softly, he keeps his voice as neutral but gentle as he can when he inquires “Is it a scar?”

“I,” Epic faltered. “Huh. IDK, actually,” he admitted. He sets the chopsticks down and sighs, wiping his mouth off with a napkin. Finally, he meets Cross’s eyes. Carefully, he murmured, “Technically, might be more of a mutilation than a scar.”

“Okay?” Epic wasn’t missing any digits and his hands looked intact. “Anything like my gaps from my scars? Those aren’t that bad,” Cross reassured.

Epic smiled, but it was sad and empty.

Cross wanted to cradle his face and hold him until the light returned to his eye.

“I think you’d hate it if you saw it.”

Finally, things started to make a little more sense. “And that’s why you won’t take off your gloves in front of people? In front of me?” Cross guessed. “Because you think it’s something horrible enough to be hated?”

Epic winced. “Especially if you saw, yeah, man, and I don’t—” he stopped, a flicker of fear passing in his eye before he turned away. “I don’t want you to see me differently. T-to hate me,” he confessed, his voice silencing to a whisper at the end.

At once, Cross felt himself soften, his Soul impossibly warm and affectionate. “Oh, mi mejor amigo,” Cross placed his claw over Epic’s hand. “I could never hate you.”

Epic slowly lifts his gaze. “...”

“You don’t have to show me, or say why.” He squeezed his hand before he let go, missing how Epic curled the touched hand inward into the wooden table when he picked up his chopsticks. “It’s deep personal stuff. You don’t have to talk about any of that, I get it. I was just worried about you, but I get it now. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Epic stared at his ramen, expression indecipherable while his thoughts warred inside his mind. “Thanks.”

Epic was unnaturally quiet for the duration of their meal. They sat in companionable silence and enjoyed their comfort food. While Epic mulled over his thoughts, his gloved hand idly rubbing over the other, Cross was grateful his best friend had opened up to him, and kept his word, letting Epic have his space.

When they finished, Epic’s body moved on autopilot and followed Cross to the sink. There, he washed the dishes for the day—he had on the rubber gloves for it anyway, heh—and Cross washed his claws before taking the place on his other side with a towel in hand. Epic would scrub them clean, then rinse off the soap, and hand off the wet dish to Cross, who’d dry them off and put them back in their place.

There wasn’t a lot to go through, and in hardly any time at all, there’s only one plate left. Epic stares at it, gaze far off and distant. After a few moments have passed, Cross is about to regain Epic’s attention and ask for the plate. Only for Epic to speak and inquire something at the same time.

“Hey, do you want me to get tha—”

“Do you still wanna see?”

They both stare. Heh, whoops.

Cross cleared his false throat. “Sorry, what was that?”

Epic handed him the plate. He dried it off. As his back is turned while he sets it back in the cupboard, Epic repeats his earlier question.

“I asked if you still wanna see.”

“Oh,” Cross closes the cabinet door and turns to look at him. “I am curious,” he professed, “but you’re not obligated to tell me or show me anything, man.”

“Samesies, bruh, but I,” Epic wished he had some gum or jolly rancher or something to chew on. His Soul beat quicker as his eye darted away from Cross’s face and back. “I…if anyone ever saw, or, or knew…I’d want it to be you, Cross.”

He…doesn’t know how to react to that, really, what could he say? What should he say?

All he can do is stare at an unusually demure Epic, the way Epic looked at him, eyelight soft with ardor and glittering pearlescent under the phosphorescent light.

It wasn’t uncommon that he found himself like this because of Epic: breathless and lost while his Soul batted insistently beneath his ribs.

Tongue-tied, he nods. “Oh, thanks. You too.”

Stars, he was such a dumbass.

Glancing at the front door, Epic squeezed his hand over the other. “Is it okay if we do this in my room? I don’t want Delta or Color or someone ‘porting in and seeing. Or hearing,” he added.

Cross nodded in understanding. “Yeah dude, whatever’s more comfy for you.”

He followed Epic up the familiar path of stairs to his room. Everything is mostly clean and tidy from when they last hung out here, and he settled comfortably atop the bed. He’d always appreciated how Epic kept his bedroom neat for his sake, especially the bed.

One of his pet peeves was untidy beds, but Epic’s blankets and pillows — along with a few plushies — were arranged in an aesthetic way, pleasantly scratching that itch of despising unkempt habitude.

After double checking to make sure the door was shut and locked, Epic soon joined him, plopping down beside him with a sigh. He leaned back to rest his skull and back against the wall.

“‘Kay. So, uh,” Epic fiddled with his rubber covered digits. “I guess I ought just get it outta the way, yeah?” Cross’s eyelights flit from the rubber material to his tired eye as he spoke. “…Promise you’ll try not to hate me?”

Slowly, digits curled around the top of the glove.

Exasperated and a little irked that Epix would think Cross would ever hate his best friend, he opened his mouth to reply—

—only to freeze when the glove is peeled back and Cross sees Epic’s uncovered palms for the first time.

He was expecting a gash or two, maybe something long and big since most people disliked scars, but he dumbly realized Epic had been right to describe it as a ‘mutilation’. There, in the center, it was just…gone.

The other glove came off, joining the other somewhere off to the side of the bed. Cross paid it no mind, gaze zeroed in on the holes.

His palms were hollowed. But how could it have happened? The circles were too neat, too precise to have been accidental.

The only other skeleton he’d known with holes in their palms was Gaster, and it was because of his experiments—oh.

With increasing clarity, Cross’s eyes trailed up Epic’s hands to his face. His expression was carefully blank as he waited, observing Cross’s reaction with fearful intensity.

“Did he?” He can’t bring himself to say it.

A slow nod. “Yeah. Both of ‘em.” His hands rubbed over the other, fist clenching and unclenching as Epic glanced away. “First time was to make the—make something. Second time was to try to get the first failure to work better. It didn’t. So, now I’ve got these two “donut holes”, but all hole and no donut.”

Cross missed his joke, too focused on his hands. “Do they hurt?” Epic shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t feel anything. Kinda sensitive if they’re touched but otherwise I try to ignore them if I can.”

Cross holds out his claws. “Can I?”

His friend stared at his claws, then him. After a pause, Epic slowly blinked, and then he nodded. “Okay.”

Cross gently takes Epic’s hand in his. Ungloved, it feels strange to hold him but not unwelcome. There’s a hum of magic around the cored palm. Not unwelcome, per say, but it made it easier to feel Epic’s Intent. More concentrated maybe? He circled the rim with a claw and Epic shuddered, mouth parting in a low gasp.

“Does it hurt?”

He shook his head. His cheekbones were dusted indigo. “It’s just…strange? Touch and Intent is uh. More potent around it, I guess?” Epic’s brows furrowed in thought. “Huh. Like, just that feels like you’re hugging me.”

“Really?” Intrigued, Cross pressed more firmly on the rim, pressing into the textured but no less smooth bone, purposefully pouring in more of his Intent in the fond touch.

Okay?/Okay?/Feel okay/You’re still the same/Still mine/Okay?

His hand jolted within Cross’s grasp, Epic’s breath stuttered and ragged, the small, surprised noise he made caught in his throat. Cross looked up, worried he’d hurt him, and Epic’s eye was wide with unshed tears.

He immediately pulled away from the hole to lace their fingers together instead. A comforting handhold to hopefully soothe and amend his misstep. “Shit, I’m sorry, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m good, I’m good. It’s just so…intense,” Epic husks, “That time it. Uh, maybe leave ‘em alone, I think. ‘s not bad,” he quickly reassured. “Just a lot.”

Hearing Epic’s deep voice so utterly breathless and dazed sends a thrill down his spine and he shoves that feeling deep down and refuses to acknowledge it maybe later when he’s alone he can process how and why he feels like that.

“O-okay. Like what?”

His hand absentmindedly squeezes Cross’s as he thought. “I guess them being exposed is like, hmm.” Epic paused. “Okay, you ever summoned your body?”

He often did it for training, fighting, whatever. Cross nodded. “Yeah?”

“Right, and you know when the magic is still connected to the inner mana networks on the inside, but is also starting to form and spread from that mainframe to your external body?”

“Uh huh.”

“It feels like you're touching that.”

“Oh.” He slowly nodded, trying to imagine experiencing it himself. “Okay.”

Epic’s voice gentles into something unbearably soft that it coaxes his own mana out to burn lilac on his zygomas. “And you put your kind Intent in that, might as well have been sent right to my Soul.”

“Oh. Well, I meant it, and you feel what I mean, right?” Epic nods, and Cross—

“Yeah, I get it. I’m always gonna be your best friend too, Cross.” His thumb caressed the back of his claw. “I feel and know it.”

Lungs without function shudder around an unnecessary breath.

It's impossible to ever tire of hearing those words. That he’d always be Epic’s best friend, that Epic would always care for him no matter what. Despite everything that had happened, despite losing his memories and rebuilding their friendship anew, Epic never once stopped caring, never once gave up on Cross.

All his life, he’d been a failure. A disappointment. Never something worth carrying for because he didn’t live up to whatever expectation or use someone had for him.

Not as a son, not as an older brother, not as a friend, and not even as a weapon.

Always, Epic was exactly what he needed and wanted and he wanted to pull him close and taste—

Cross cleared his throat. “Same, dude.” He bonked his skull with Epic’s. “Always.”

Epic seemed to be ruminating on something else, the hand not held by Cross’s was stroking his scarred eye, distal phalanges trailing the line.

“There’s probably one more thing you oughta know, Cross.”

The soldier nodded. “Whatever it is, it changes nothing between us,” determined, his hold tightened on Epic. “I promise,” he vowed.

Epic stared at him, his carpals and metacarpals covering his scarred eye. He took a deep, slow breath. “Stars, I hope so,” he murmured so quietly he almost missed it.

When Epic’s hand left his face, both his eyes were open.

White and violet orbs stared into Cross’s own orbs.

“You’ve seen me open it when I fight,” Cross nodded silently, “but otherwise I try to keep it hidden.”

Why? He still looked fine as ever to Cross.

“That’s why I always keep it closed if I can or never let anyone see me without gloves. ‘Cause everytime I see this Eye, see my hands,” his best friend’s face contorts, burning with a hatred so cold and dark that a shiver travels down his spine. “I’m reminded of that, that putang ina,” Epic cursed. Everytime I look at myself or look at my stupid hands, all I see is him.”

“Epic, you—”

“You don’t get it. He ruined me, Cross.”

He'd always been a failure. But he made him into an abomination.

Tears well in Epic’s sockets and Cross was certain he must have a physical heart because he could feel it break. “I can’t sleep. No, literally. I literally don’t sleep.”

His bed was always so neat and tidy…

Like it was hardly (or never) used.

Epic trembles, his voice shaking but now that he’s started he can’t stop. “Every single damn time I fall unconscious, the Eye channels magic from the Void and creates these creatures, horrible demons that if I don’t kill them first they kill me. Every. Single. Time.”

But then, that would mean… “Is that how you have LV?” Epic nods, his shadowed face riddled with exhaustion.

“Yeah. But if I don’t do it, I die. And dying doesn’t even take me out of that place. My body has to wake up.”

“I’ve gotten better at it,” he admitted. “I hardly die anymore, now. But I’m always tired, and there’s nothing I can do to feel totally good and awake. But I’m so done,” the tears finally fall, glistening as they travel down porcelain bone. “I’m so, so tired, Cross. Sometimes,” Epic falters. “Sometimes…I just want it to end. And just lay down and never wake up again, if it meant it would finally stop.”

There are too many times where he said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing even when he had the best intentions at heart.

Always Sometimes, it feels like all Cross is good at is hurting.

His friends.

“Frisk! What have you done, you idiot?!”

“I’ll Reset the world and make things right.”

His family.

“B-Brother…”

“My name is Cross!"

The ones he loved.

“Long time no see bruh! I barely recognized you in that weird outfit!”

“BACK OFF!”

If he wasn’t used for someone else’s convenience, all he could do was hurt. 

But this time, 

Epic lifts his head up when Cross gently pulls the hand tugging at his scarred socket out. 

He won’t. 

He was full of DETERMINATION. 

“Dying’s easy for us, huh?” Epic laughed bitterly. 

“I’ll say.” 

“It’d be so easy,” Cross continued. “To kill for you, to die for you.”

Epic’s hand is cold in his burning claws. But together they are warm.

“In a Soulbeat.” Epic agreed. 

“But I want to live for you, too.” 

“Living is grief, and we die anyway,” Epic pointed out. His lovely eyes are dim, glow duller than their usual brilliant light. 

He didn’t disagree. “Always mourning what could’ve been, what won’t be, what we can’t save.”

“It’ll never stop.” Epic closed his eyes. “No matter how hard we try or want it to.”

But there were so many reasons to keep trying anyway, so many little reasons to keep going. 

“At the very least,” Epic sighed. “I’ve got used to dealing with it after two decades.” He glared down at his hollowed palms. “I just wish I didn’t look like him, too.” He seemed to deflate, shoulders hunching in as he’s unable to meet Cross’s gaze. “It’s why I thought you’d freak out or hate m—hate it, ‘cause it looks like Gaster and I know he was just as shitty to you, too, a-and I didn’t want you to see him when you look at me—”

His self-depreciative tirade slows when Cross gently takes his hands in his and turns them over, slowly running his phalanges around and over his cored palms phalanges while Epic anxiously waits for his reaction. 

And Cross just looks at him, soft and sweet, humming as he replies. “I don’t see Gaster. I only see you.” And he lances their hands together and brings Epic’s palm to his mouth. 

His eyes watch Epic’s as he purposefully presses the tip of the hollowed crevice to his teeth in a gentle kiss, mindful of his Intent and force of his touch. “And my best friend is beautiful.”

“Even my Eye?” Cross nods, reaching out to cup his face and stroke his zygomatic arch with his thumb. 

“Did I ever tell you, purple’s my favorite color?” Epic shakes his head. “It’s because of you.”

Epic stared at him in disbelief. “No, really. I used to hate it, hate my ecto, because it was always red until XGaster overwrote me, and it never went back.”

But now he matches his best friend, who to him, has the loveliest shade of purple he’s ever seen. A vibrant, vivacious violet, glittering like a twilight sky and brighter than all the cosmos.

“I’m your favorite?” Epic softly bumped his head with his, and Cross nuzzled him back, smiling softly into his eyes. 

“Always. Like cookies and chocolate.”

“Sugar and spice.”

“Peanut butter and jelly.”

“Sushi and soy sauce.” 

“Heheh,” he chuckles under his breath. “Just two peas in a pod,” Epic quips. His grin falls slightly at the corner. “But you mean it? I don’t look like him?”

“I only see you, Epic.” He promised. “Mi mejor amigo.”

The tired but dazzling smile that flutters then blooms across Epic’s expression reminds him of the field of lilacs from his AU, of the savory sweet taste of pimplom pie baked with love, of violet butterflies' graceful wings unfurling above the flowers like paint across a canvas. The picture it paints is bright and beautiful, of home and safety and peace so deep that he yearns with all his heart and Soul. A true work of art, it brightens the room and melts his fluttering Soul that blooms with warmth, like blooming flowers and fluttering butterflies. 

They’re so close that Epic had only to tilt his skull to the side and gently press closer to set Cross ablaze, the point of contact sparking and shooting out through his body with electric bursts of magic. 

The kiss was brief, only a tiny moment of time where Epic had nuzzled against him, but it was a euphoric eternity to his jubilant Soul.

When Epic broke away to rest into the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping around him, Cross was grateful he couldn’t see the way his entire skull flushed soft, luminous lilac. 

“Thank you.” It’s whispered like a secret. And Cross knows he’s been entrusted with more than a secret. 

For once, he didn’t hurt.

For once, he lov—cared for someone, and he didn’t hurt them. 

When he returned his embrace, it was with the comfort that he held his world in his arms, safe and adored.

It’s gradual, but Cross noticed when Epic began to keep his gloves off. Whenever they were alone, he’d take them off without a word. Only reaching out for Cross’s hand and finding his unanswered plea accepted without a moment of hesitance. And soon it grew from an occasional happenstance to a daily occurrence. 

It won’t be until several weeks later that Epic would feel safe and comfortable enough to do the same around Delta and Color. 

And he would’ve never been able to without the courage all of Cross’s love and support had given him.

Cross watched Epic chat with Color, animatedly waving the hand not laced with the soldier’s in the air as he emphasized his point. The conversation went unheard, lost to him, as he focused only on a bright smile and hands openly displaying hollowed palms.

One down, he thought, unaware of the besotted smile he wore as he stared at Epic’s closed, scarred Eye. One to go.

Shoutout to my lovely moot @sirsquidsalot for help writing how hauntingly beautiful Epic is! I just couldn't phrase the paragraph quite right and they were so helpful to get that final revision. Please check out their lovely writing!

Translations:

De nada -- Spanish for "no problem"/"you're welcome"

parce -- Spanish for "buddy"/"friend"

Mi mejor amigo -- Spanish for "My best friend"

¿Qué estás haciendo -- Spanish for "What are you doing?"

“¿Hablas en serio?” -- Spanish for "Are you serious?"

Sinabi ko na sayo — Tagalog for “I already told you”

Putang ina — Tagalog for “Son of a bitch/bastard”

[junos-jrabbles]

Authors note, PT 2 to this ask, because it took me SO long and I feel like I need to do a lil more LOL, sorry if these are a lil unimaginative I do be frying

How would the mercs react to a new member with some questionable behaviour?

Scout

There's GOTTA be somethin’ up with you.

He's sure of it, absolutely COVINCED that someone as maniacal as you can't just be a good person.

He gets the whole “well, the respawn machine!” But he doesn't, he wouldn't go crazy like that, why would anyone?

He's a little nervy around you, gives you a funny look once in a while when you're kind to him, assumes there's some really blatant motive that he just isn't picking up on (there is none).

Shows up outside your room once at night, standing there with that ‘mom I threwed up’ stance just like. “Okay. So. What da hell is wrong with ya?” Hands on his hips, STARING.

“Whaddaya mean it's just a game to ya- pal, look at me, I'm the best player here, y’don’t see me rippin’ their arms off!”

Eventually gets over it, but it takes a while, he's just stubborn. You guys end up best buds and he shares his radioactive ass bonk with you sometimes, usually resulting in a ceasefire as the entire enemy line is annihilated, or you slam into a wall so hard you knock yourself clean out.

~~~

Soldier

Insert the Spiderman pointing at Spiderman meme here

First impressions? Is absolutely enamoured by you. You are on the field what he is when in his crazy naked honeyed up state. A force of violence and INSANE destruction.

Definitely tries to assist you by letting you rocket surf directly into the enemies on pretty much every respawn, much to the chagrin on your Medic, who really does just eventually stop trying to follow you.

He's SO ecstatic to find someone that's loco like him when in the heat of battle, but can be Normal outside of it! He's amazed, definitely asks you if you're American every five minutes, just to make sure you're not one of those nice Canadians (shudder).

“YOU. YOU ARE THE BEST SOLDIER IN THIS HERE PLATOON, MAGGOT! I HAVE NEVER SEEN A DRIVE AS HIGH AS YOURS, I THINK SUN TZU WOULD BE VERY PROUD.”

Sometimes he'll have a rough experience in a fight, and after it's all over, he'll come to you for reassurance and to talk!!! He definitely talks about you with Zhanna often, and you guys all hang out often for little chats over food n drink :)

~~

Pyro

You are one of the few people, who in their eyes, is always very vibrant and exciting to be near.

They absolutely LOVE your energy, your kindness is more than welcome at base, and they love being near you and showing you things they've created (upgrades for their flamethrowers, new melees they've concocted, etc.), and on the battlefield, they're following at your heels lighting the world around ablaze, watching the carnage bloom!

Really, really enjoys baking with you, they love baking and cooking generally, but usually it goes kinda poorly, because they can't smell too well under the mask, and tend to space out and lose track of time. Plus the burnt cookies are always really pretty.

You keep them on track with stuff without being pushy, and they appreciate it!! And sometimes you'll find pictures of really cute animals in library books and photocopy them to show them. :)

~~~

Demo

He's not sure if it's because he's seeing double, that the carnage seems a lot crazier than normal, at first.

Eventually realises that the mayhem in the battlefield is at your hands, and makes a mental note to stay out of your way.

That mental note is tossed away the second you come up to him, giddy with some terrible glee asking him to launch you directly into their front lines.

(He obliges, and is amazed at how well you stick the landing.)

Doesn't really register the difference too well, too off his tits to know if you're even talking to him half the time.

You'll pass him his dinner, lovingly crafted with all the food meticulously placed to create a little scene (probably bangers n mash gravy volcano, absolute scran) and he just takes it like. “Oooh, thank you lass/lad! Looks…” Swaying, trying not to drop the tray. “Looks some braw scran, ta!” Then he totters away <3.

Probably invites you to play golf on his slightly more sober days, goes very well of course! You drive the caddy, he hoots and hollers for you to run someone over (Soldier is on the back egging him on).

~~~

Heavy

Somewhat protective, but in a very physical way, where he'll try to body block the enemy from getting at you (and occasionally you from getting at them).

Asks you how you're doing… often, it's like when your elders are concerned but aren't gonna ask if you like, need therapy, he'll just go “Are you alright, дикий?” and when you go yeah what why he's just got his arms crossed, nodding, then walks away.

Is VERY impressed by you on the battlefield, even he's sure he wouldn't be able to tank some of the hits that you do. Your handle on adrenaline is completely spectacular in his eyes.

Would call you wild one, animal, beast, terror, but also throw in little sun when a fight has gone particularly well, proving your fiery fury!!

~~~

Engineer

Probably the closest to you, a little crazy himself, but sane enough off the field.

Highly appreciates your input on anything he's scrapping together, especially when he's tinkering with his turrets. Usually you drive the enemy into them like cattle, so polite questions and curious advice is always treasured.

“Now… I already got the wrangler shield, but that is an awfully good idea there…” Followed by various skeewiff utterances as he works out the kinks of the massive thing he's just haphazardly welded with a folding mechanism onto his sentry.

You'd bring him fresh baked goods sometimes and he wouldn't stop thinking about you for at least a week after, the way to his heart is through food and dear god you give him an arrhythmia <3.

~~~

Medic

Sick of chasing after you after about a week of battles, and eventually begins wondering if he can legally sedate you and/or poke around in your brain to see what makes you tick.

Finds it endearing, how anarchic you are in the heat of war, compared to how civil and polite you are outside of it.

His birds peck at their barred enclosures when they hear your name like they've been accidentally conditioned, knowing they'll be let out for the duration of his usual pacing and rambling session in his office.

“Oh mein Gott, das ist verdammt nochmal unmöglich.” He would absolutely SEETHE over you sometimes, but then you'd come into his office with tea or coffee and biscuits and bird seed and he'd be like oh. Oh you're just nice, huh?

You're the only person willing to listen to his excited rambles about human physiology and general biology, he'd show you vivisection research images, organs, all the sorts until he can see that you're a little offput, then he'll be like,

“Oh, sorry freund! Archimedes tell them it is fine, please. Zhe bird knows these things better than I!” And little mister ‘medes comes and settles down on you for a snug, probably nipping at ya if you don't pet him.

~~~

Sniper

Likes it, LOVES it in fact, he won't show it, but having someone who keeps the enemy's attention long enough for him to get a few picks has him giggling and kicking his feet (metaphorically, of course).

“Oh that one? Aye well… They're about as ruthless as a dunny rat, I'd say, bites like a blue ‘n all.” He'd mutter to anyone who asks what he thinks about you, a strange question, but he's an honest man.

Being a particularly distant man, you don't get very close, but sometimes on late nights when it's too cold for him to be in the camper, he'll settle down in the common room with some knitting going for a few hours before he feels tired enough to head to his room. If you get up for a drink and spot him, he's more than happy for a little chat when you come over and start asking him about what he's doing.

He tries to teach you knitting, which goes alright, eventually offers to teach you some marksmanship but you politely decline.

“More of a hands-on approach, ey? Well, can't knock it mate, seen you take down those blokes like they're nothing but jumbucks.”

~~~

Spy

Is always wearing his cloak and dagger watch for the first while of you arriving, hides in the choke points of certain stations and watches the carnage upclose, trying to stay as still as possible so as not to be seen.

Finds you very amusing, but like Scout, is incredibly sceptical. His curious stalking is not limited only to the battlefield, he often lingers in the shadows of the base just watching you. Mostly when you're cooking, making sure you won't slip anything nefarious into their food.

Does NOT buy any of the stuff you tell them. It's all a little on the nose, all this about working at puppy shelters, saving cats from trees, talking down burglars? Unbelievable, and he will not be convinced.

Does some incredibly invasive snooping, probably literally going through your stuff when you're out of the room, and never really truly comes around to see eye to eye with you.

~~~

General

After a while of you being amongst them, and everyone's settled, Christmas would come up, and much as it would usually be a very casual thing between the lads, everyone would be so enamored with the thoughtful gifts you'd get them.

Miss Pauling would be genuinely so frightened by you, she'd only really see or hear about you on the battlements, not so much when you're at your times of peak kindness. She would also probably not be very convinced by your alleged acts of kindness, but wouldn't be too bothered either way.

[wcnderlnds]

here for you | peter parker

・❥・ summary: after getting kicked out, peter comes to the rescue like always ・❥・word count: 1.1k ・❥・warnings: n/a ・❥・ authors note: this is my first time writing for my beloved peter parker!! its also the first time ive wrote anything in like a month. this was a request from this list. feel free to request any!

The rain was falling hard in New York City. It was one of those cold, rainy nights that had most people bustling through the streets with their umbrellas hurrying to get home. Unfortunately, you were one of those people. The heavy thud of the raindrops falling on your umbrella and the usual sound of the busy New York traffic were the only things keeping you grounded in that moment. The puddles on the pavement soaked your favourite pair of boots as you aimlessly wandered, suitcase full of belongings trailing along with you as you dragged it across the concrete. This wasn’t how your day was supposed to go. Your original plan had been to sit in front of the fire, cup of cocoa in your hand as you watched Love Actually. Too bad you had forgotten to pay your darn rent. 

Money had been tight lately. Balancing a part time job and university was no easy feat. So much so that you had ended up sacrificing your job for the sake of your mental health. You had thought your savings would be enough until you had a better grip on things to find another job but you were wrong. The well had run dry and after another missed rent payment, your landlord had kicked you out. 

When it rained, it definitely poured.

As you stepped into a particularly deep puddle, the familiar sound of a ‘thwip’ sounded above you. Craning your neck up, you spotted none other than the famous Spider-Man perched on a lamppost, head tilted as he looked at you almost like he was examining you. The corners of your lips almost tugged up into a smile as you imagined the concern in his eyes under that mask. Peter Parker had shared his secret with you almost the day he’d found out himself. You were his best friend after all – the two of you told each other everything. The eyes on his mask widened in questioning.

“Got kicked out,” you shrugged. Saying it out loud made it feel all the more real. Not that walking through the streets with everything you owned in a suitcase didn’t.

After checking to make sure nobody was around to hear, Peter spoke. “Meet me at my place. Gotta take care of something first.”

With that, he swung away no doubt on his way to tackle some crime. At least in a city like New York, Spider-Man was never short of something nefarious to keep him occupied. The whole city was like a hub for superheroes and criminals at this point. It was so much so that you were almost desensitised to it. Maybe that had something to do with the fact your best friend was one of those superheroes. Your feet carried you to Peter’s apartment, knocking on the door when you approached. No answer. He must still be out. A sigh passed your lips as you sat on the floor, back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of you as you waited for that nerdy, cute friend of yours to arrive. The raindrops from your jacket were dripping on the floor. Huh, you hadn’t realised it had been raining that hard. Probably too lost in your own thoughts. 

It was ten minutes later when the door to the apartment opened – Peter must have swung in through his window. The pros of being Spider-Man meant you didn’t have to deal with such meander things as walking. Sometimes you wished that spider had bit you so you could swing your way through the city without a care. His mask was in his hand as you stepped through the threshold, the door shutting behind you. His big, brown eyes looking at you with concern.

“I know you have questions and I’ll answer but I really need to get out of these wet clothes right now,” you cringed as you pulled your jacket off, your jeans sticking to your legs.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure, sure. You can… use the bathroom. You know where it is,” Peter nodded, his cheeks tinting pink at the mere thought of you getting changed in his apartment. He knew he shouldn’t have thoughts like that but he couldn’t help himself. Throughout the years Peter had somewhat started to develop feelings for you. It was something he beat himself up about every single day because there was no way you felt the same way for him. Why would you? You were incredible and he was… him. No, Peter would always keep this secret to himself. There was no way he was ever going to lose you so if it only meant friendship then he’d take it.

“You should have told me you were struggling to pay rent!” Peter exclaimed. Once both of you had gotten changed, you’d situated yourselves on Peter’s couch, a blanket thrown over the two of you as you filled him in on your situation.

“Peter, no offence but you can barely afford to pay your own rent let alone help me.”

“I would’ve found a way.”

A smile lit up your face, hand reaching out to give his a squeeze. “I know and I am so lucky to have someone like you looking out for me like that but I could never ask that of you.”

Peter’s eyes glanced down at your hand atop his, barely containing how sweaty his palm was starting to feel at your simple touch. He was down bad. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down a gulp, shaking his head. “You know I’m always going to be there for you, right? Always. No matter what happens. I would do anything and everything in this world to help you and protect you. There’s nothing more precious to me than you.”

His words hit you straight in the feelings, your heart beating a mile a minute like it was about to burst out of your chest. The sincere look in his eyes, the way he always seemed to make you his number one priority – there was nobody who looked after you as fiercely as Peter did. Despite everything he’d been through with his family and losing Gwen, he had never let you down. The second your eyes met his it was like the whole world had stopped still. Your breath hitched, caught in your throat as Peter’s delicate fingers reached out to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture making your stomach do flips.

“Stay here with me…. for as long as you want,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” you leaned into his touch. The moment lingering between you, neither wanting it to end. There would be many, many more moments just like this one – you just didn’t know it yet.

taglist: @strawb3rrystar @decaf-mother @ldydeath @mistysconcilium

[mushies-stories]

sad girl

Gaz x F!Reader

drabble

authors notes: Hello, im sad and wrote this to make myself feel better

warnings: drinking, a little.

Kyle watched you from across the bar. He watched as you ordered your first drink with sniffles and watery eyes. Your tears only held back for so long, once the drink was half gone they started pouring. 

It didn't take him long to decide he wanted to fix that. Halfway through your second drink he stood from the table he was sharing with his mates. “Were ya think yer going?” John asks, looking at him with a raised brow. Kyle looked over to where you sat at the bar and the rest looked in the same direction. 

Johnny lets out a booming laugh. “Gunna go save the damsel in distress?” he teases. 

Simon smirks a little and John looks at him with a knowing expression. “Always an empath aint ya?” John says, joining in on the teasing. 

Kyle rolls his eyes and grabs his drink. “Yeah yeah, laugh all ya want but I'll have her smilin by the end of the night.” He says before heading over to you. You don't notice him when he sits down right next to you, preoccupied with sipping through the small straw at your drink. You weren't crying as much as before but your eyes were still watery and your cheeks were still stained with tears and mascara. “What’s gotta lovely girl like yerself cryin in a dingy place like this?” He startles you. 

Big glossy eyes look into his own and you can't hide the look of slight shock on your face. “Me?” your quiet, Kyle was barely even able to hear it. He was cute and his eyes were captivating, you couldn't help but wonder why he came up to you of all people. 

He offers you a small smile, friendly and inviting. “Don't see any other beautiful girl around here do ya? Just a bunch of blokes.” He says with a shrug to the room. 

Your face warms and it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts. You weren't drunk, but the alcohol definitely has given you a good buzz. “Just a… just a really bad day.” you say, voice a little shaky and you cant help the sniffle when you hold back more tears. 

Kyle looked at you with a bit of a sad expression. “Well, we can't have that.” You look at him confused. “I know a place a few blocks over, a cafe, stays open late and has some good late night desserts. Let me treat ya?”

A tear rolls down your cheek. “Why? You don't even know me” You say, not understanding why. 

He reaches a hand out towards your face, making sure you didn't flinch away and swipes the tear with his thumb. He leans in a little closer. “Because something about seeing you cry is telling me to do something about it, makes me want to see you smile.” He says softly.

You blink away a few small tears. “Really?” you ask, still unsure about his offer. 

He nods with a sweet smile. “Really, I'd be more than happy to spend the evening with you, if you'll have me.” he extends his hand towards yours. “I'm Kyle.”

With a small smile you place your hand in his. “Y/N.”

And then you both lived happily ever after :D

[mattsmiddlepartt]

The study session. Pt.2

Warnings: Chris’s relentless charm and refusal to take “no” for an answer (but in a flirty, harmless way). Mild academic stress and teasing. Banter-heavy dialogue with a strong dose of cocky quarterback energy. Subtle tension that might leave you screaming, “JUST DATE ALREADY!” Reader possibly getting flustered against their will (because Chris is that guy).

!nerd reader × !popular boy chris!

Chris was late. Again.

You sighed, glancing at the clock and wondering why you bothered to show up on time when he clearly didn’t understand the concept. As you flipped through your notes for what felt like the hundredth time, Chris strolled into the library, his signature smirk in place.

“Miss me?” he asked, sliding into the chair across from you like he owned the place.

“Not even a little,” you replied, refusing to look up from your notebook. “You’re 15 minutes late.”

“Fashionably late,” he corrected, dropping his bag onto the table. “Keeps things exciting.”

“Exciting isn’t going to pass your test,” you shot back, pushing a worksheet toward him. “Now, let’s get started before I regret agreeing to this.”

-

For the first half-hour, you managed to keep Chris focused. He worked through the problems with minimal whining, and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud when he actually started to get the hang of it.

“See? I’m not just a pretty face,” he said, holding up his worksheet triumphantly.

“You’re still only halfway through,” you reminded him, though a small smile tugged at your lips.

“Details,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Let’s take a break.”

“No breaks,” you replied, flipping to the next set of problems.

Chris leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he stared at you. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve gotta let loose once in a while. Live a little.”

You didn’t bother looking up. “My idea of ‘living’ doesn’t involve watching you procrastinate.”

He smirked. “What about going out with me?”

That made you pause. Slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, his grin widening. “You, me, dinner. You deserve a reward for all this tutoring, don’t you?”

You blinked, trying to process his words. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No joke,” he replied, completely serious. “I think you’re cool, Y/N. Smart, funny, and you keep me in check. That’s rare.”

You snorted. “Let me guess—no one’s ever said no to you before, have they?”

“Not yet,” he said, leaning back with that infuriating confidence. “And I don’t think you’ll be the first.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, heating up under his gaze. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Unbelievably charming?” he offered.

“Unbelievably annoying,” you corrected, shoving another worksheet at him. “And the answer’s no. Now focus.”

Chris chuckled but didn’t push it—this time. Instead, he picked up his pencil and got back to work, though you could still feel his eyes on you every now and then.

By the end of the session, he’d finished every problem, and you couldn’t deny that he’d actually made progress.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said as he packed up his things. “For real.”

“Don’t mention it,” you replied, stacking your papers.

As he stood to leave, he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “By the way, that wasn’t a no forever. Just a no for now.”

Before you could respond, he was gone, leaving you flustered and wondering how on earth he managed to get under your skin so easily.

Taglist!: @stvrnioloslvt @slvtf0rchr1s @chrisfavoritewhore @ineedchriscock @idontcare4urmom @adoreechxmpion @dominicfikeenthusiast @delilahsturniolo @dykes4chris @ddrellaa

Inspos!: @bernardsbendystraws @muwapsturniolo

(If you don't wanna be tagged dm or go into my inbox! ♡)

[belphegored]

Marbas x gn!reader - fluffy; reader is sick & he's your (my) nurse hehe

"Does it hurt anywhere else?" He asks with his voice raspy from intermittent slumber- he's been watching over you all night, making sure you are comfortable and your cold slowly but surely eases, and yet even though he is tired, Marbas sounds painfully eager to keep treating you.

If you knew Marbas any more you'd say he likes to see you sick or weak or dependent solely on him (you know it's true).

Part of you wants to say "yes" and convince him that it hurts everywhere, that it's an ache only he can take care of. You don't need to be a genius to figure out it'd take no coercing to have him concerned all over, overeager, overzealous of your health and you, just you (and him). But just this once you're modest.

"Not really, I'm feeling better, already" you hum, he probably has much more important matters to tend to you, anyway. You're gonna add a "thank you", an "I promise I'll be fine, you can leave" but he's quicker than that and won't let you, his green eyes peering into you with a knowing look as he replies.

"...though your fever is yet to subside"

You exhale like exhausted; his care is intensive, relentless, but also it's damn hard to prove him wrong when just the way he speaks to you, impersonal yet somehow ardent with concern at the same time, makes your body temperature go up a degree.

"Yeah, maybe... I mean" you laugh, hide deeper under the covers, "if you say so, suppose I gotta trust you,"

One of your hands tentatively reaches to touch his ear, his jaw...

"You are the expert, aren't you?"

Marbas almost huffs at that- almost, and you welcome the not quite there gesture nevertheless, assume it means "yes, whatever".

He turns his face to the side to nuzzle the palm of your hand and press a tender kiss right there; he's not leaving anytime soon.

[blacklegsanjiii]

Ooh god, I loved your Shanks x Sora post so muuuuch <3

But, can I dump a little ship here?

Bellmere x Sora. Just. These two raising Sanji, Nojiko and Nami together (and Sanji not being weird about girls bc of that). Or even ALL the 01234ji siblings + Nojiko & Nami bc Sora deserves to raise all her precious babies like she wanted. They winning against Arlong and his crew and living as a happy little family who basically is loved by all Cocoyashi. Maybe even with ZeffSora! Siblings bc him and Bellmere as in-laws would be funny as hell.

Maybe the crew meets Sanji + Nami at the same time, bc both work on the Baratie or whatever. Maybe Arlong tries, after years, to take Cocoyashi and they hear about it so Zeff sends Sanji & Nami and goes, too. The crew (Luffy, actually) goes to help too, afterall these two will join the crew/are crewmates.

Maybe Lusan and Namivivi happens. Maybe their mothers + siblings (or just sister) hear about it and can't wait to know/see again Vivi and Luffy. Maybe WCI hurts deeper, because Nami knows why her big brother is doing this, but hurts her heart all the same. Maybe, she does slaps him, but hugs him right after. Maybe, after hearing about Pudding and the cuffs, she is 10x angrier.

Maybe, their relationship is more. Something happier, just platonic from both sides. Maybe, when Luffy and Sanji start dating, Nami half threatens Luffy to take care of her brother, and Sanji does the same about Vivi and Nami.

Just, maybe.

I'm ALIVE! There's a lot going on in my life but I think I'm back on it as well as Golden being almost done, should be updating within the next couple of months but let's focus on this!

I love this and I have seen some fanart of this ship of dead Sora and Bellemere watching their kids and Bellemere just losing it for Sora. Which is valid. Sora looks like the lipstick lesbian of my dreams sometimes. Bellemere is definitely stares because hot damn, even when she was a marine she's never seen someone as pretty as that. Because this woman and a kid who looks just like her rolled up in Cocoyashi and Bellemere just stopped and Nojiko and Nami are confused about why she's staring at the woman and her son. Bellemere will bring her girls to deliver to oranges to town and collect payments and the blonde woman is now working in the bar. Bellemere will talk with her lightly and listen, she's pretty. She's so fucking pretty. Bellemere tries to keep her cool which she feels like she lost when she got her girls but the woman seems to pay it no mind. (I need oblivious Sora)

Sora introduces herself after a few trips when she realizes that hasn't happened yet and Bellemere introduces herself and her girls and Sora shakes their hands and looks around and calls for Sanji who pops out from somewhere and introduces him to the lovely ladies. Sanji is rather quiet, especially compared to Nami and Nojiko. He's helping around the bar, collecting dishes and cups and he sneaks around like he's afraid to get caught. Nami and Nojiko will come find him on the off days and try to get him to play with them as Sora will collect the extra food the bar didn't use to make something for them. Sora will call to Sanji in another language to collect him and the girls when it's time to eat. She sounds an ocean breeze to Bellemere, a language she hasn't heard since she was in the marines and Sanji starts teaching the girls and hearing her girls speak in a language not their own makes Bellemere swoon a bit as they try to talk to Sora in it with a serene smile and taking the time to help them. Sora asks Bellemere if she'd like to learn it as well and Bellemere hastily nods.

One day a grumpy man with a peg leg comes to buy out most of their oranges. Bellemere can't help but mention how he looks like the barmaid in town and her son when the chef laughs.

"Sora and her son Sanji? Aye, that'd be my baby sister and nephew. They are actually the ones who mentioned the produce here. Gotta admit it's been a while since I've seen this quality." The chef smiles.

"Oh, she hasn't mentioned a brother." Bellemere replies, slightly in shock as Nami and Nojiko look at the man.

"I'm Zeff, Sora is doing well here. Far more than where she was. I best be off though." Zeff says as he loads the crate. "And Miss Bellemere, you have to be extremely blunt with my sister. She ain't been around many normal folk." Nami and Nojiko start giggling as Bellemere gawks at the man as he leaves with the cart full of produce and just leaves. Bellemere doesn't quite believe him until she starts actively flirting and it goes over the woman's head more often than not. Bellemere looks at Sora and says something about Zeff saying she needed to be blunt but she wasn't hoping that blunt and Sora looks at her confused and Bellemere is flushed as she stutters about wanting to spend the night with Sora, alone, no kids, just the two of them.

Sora is bright red. Sanji pulls the girls out to go play in the orchard and run and climb the trees. He boosts Nami and Nojiko up into the trees and giggle with the girls he now considers his sisters and they plot to get them together. Whenever Zeff visits they'll go hide on the Baratie and Patty and Carne will laugh at the kids and Zeff will let them stow away until the morning. Zeff will teach the girls more of the language and hoist the girls to his shoulders and walk them around the restaurant. Sanji tells them what he remembers of the North Blue on the roof top of Baratie and the constellations there. Nami says she wants to go she can draw a map, Nojiko says she wants to see snow. Zeff smiles at his niblings and is proud of the new family Sora has created for herself.

I love the idea that Arlong doesn't take Cocoyashi until later so Sora and Bellemere definitely get closer over all the times the kids disappear to the Baratie until Sanji is gone more often than not because he's working and then Nami joins not long after. Sora and Sanji moved to the orchard not long after the women started dating and Sanji cooks a myriad of orange dishes as Nami and Nojiko make the peels into pinwheels like Bellemere does and Bellemere also provides protection to the town with the sheriff whenever people try to invade. Bellemere watches in awe as Sora manages to end fights quickly between the kids. Bellemere asks the woman to marry her and Sora agrees. At the wedding Zeff told Bellemere to be blunt and look where it got them. Married. Bellemere groans and says she's just so pretty and kind and nice that all she wants to do is make her happy forever. Zeff says that's why told Sora if she didn't marry Bellemere he would never let her live it down. Bellemere stares at him as he pats her shoulder and goes and dances with her daughters.

When Sanji and Nami are working on the Baratie everyone knows they are siblings and there's a third one of them. Sanji and Nami make an excellent team and Zeff constantly tells his sister and her wife that they are never getting those kids back. They're his now and when Nojiko eventually decides to come join the crew they're all his and Sora will argue with him until she's blue in the face and she's yelling in Northern and nothing makes Bellemere want to pin her down more than a pissed off Sora talking in another language. Sometimes Nami and Sanji can calm her down over the denden. Sanji's cooking has only gotten better so he treats his family to it whenever they're home. It's the best times of their lives so far because Nami's map of the East Blue is coming along really well and she and Sanji still somehow manage to share a room and pool their money together to buy gifts for their moms and Nojiko and books for themselves. It's great.

Until Sanji feeds some guy and he leads a destroyed galleon to them and some kid told Sanji he was going to be his cook and Sanji refused questioningly and then Mihawk shows up and almost kills the swordsman and Nami leaves with them to get the guy medical care. Then after they defeat the crew of the galleon, some guy called Don Krieg Sanji gets a phone call saying there's pirates attacking Cocoyashi so he takes the rubber kid with him to get home and is complaining because he's not Nami and he's not the best at navigation and Luffy is giggling saying he found his cook and navigator. Sanji is blinking at him like he's dumb as bricks but he's just so endearing Sanji gives up. Sure, he'll join the crew. He doesn't make a promise about Nami joining because she has her own choice to make. Once they arrive at the orchard he's enveloped in hugs from his moms and sisters and explaining it's a warlord's little brother, his name is Arlong and he's trying to take over the island and Luffy promises he won't let that happen. Nami says he wants the map to the grandline she bought and he took it in exchange for their lives and Luffy says he'll get it back too since she's his navigator and Nami looks incredously at him and Sanji said he already agreed to be the cook. Nami stares at her older brother as Nojiko looks at Bellemere in a 'what are we going to do about this?' way since she was a marine. Sora is losing it and laughing so hard because piracy runs in the family technically. She's losing her god damn mind over it and Zoro and Usopp are worried she might pass out.

After they beat Arlong and Sanji's still soaking wet from fighting a guy under water they go back home and are met with praise and cheers and Sanji cooks for the town and Nami does agree to be the navigator for the crew and they set off, declaring their dreams and becoming the Strawhat Pirates officially with a glorious flag. When they meet Vivi and agree to give her and Karoo passage and help take back Alabasta. Sanji notices how his sister and Vivi keep looking at each other and somehow manages to get them time alone and nicer food. They enjoy it and thank him because yeah, they're getting close and Sanji does want his sister happy. Nami on the other hand watches her brother be obliviously endeared to the captain who clearly has feelings for him and makes bets with Vivi about it. Then Nami gets sick and Vivi and Sanji are worried but luckily the next island has a doctor because she's only been getting sicker. So they make their way to a bitterly cold island that reminds Sanji of the worst times of his life. He hasn't told his moms that Nami is sick so they don't worry about them. Then he kicks his baby sister and captain out of the way and takes the full force of an avalanche. When he comes to he finds his captain staring at him and Sanji is so fucking dazed as Luffy tells him not to do that again because he loves Sanji and Sanji thinks he just loves Sanji as his cook and Sanji promises not to worry his captain again. Luffy nods and holds Sanji's hand before they end up chasing a reindeer and check on Nami. Then they help defend the jolly roger on top of the castle. When Nami finds out as they're escaping Sanji broke his fucking back she wrings his neck and threatens to call their moms because 'I don't care what your dad did, fucking fuck, Sanji!' as he's apologizing but he feels fine. Vivi kisses Nami because she's better and Luffy is laughing because they got a doctor now. And then when they meet Ace who's flirting goes straight over Sanji's head and Ace gets punched by Luffy for even thinking of taking the cook while their captain declares Sanji as his. Vivi asks Nami if this is normal and Nami's long drawn-out sigh that he's just like his mother and when their moms finally got together it's because it took forever for Sora to take the hint. It's a wonder how their moms got married. Vivi and Chopper are looking at her and Nami shrugs and says they should have seen it when he was waiting on Baratie when the other waiters quit and it just those two waiting, she saw so many people get let down by his oblivious antics. It was bad. It was so bad. Nami made so much money off betting on him though. It was great.

Sanji pulls his sneaky shit and Nami looks at him unimpressed after they free Alabasta and Luffy is clinging to him. It's actually fucking adorable and Nami takes a picture to send home, just as Sanji sneaks one of Nami and Vivi being absolutely lost in each other. They send the photo's seperately but they get one letter back with a photo of the photos hanging up and congratulations on bagging the captain and the princess respectively. They look at each other with deadened eyes and Sanji asks when he and Luffy started dating and Nami says at least Drum if not before, that's why he punched his brother over him. Sanji blinks at her before finding Luffy and asking if they're dating and Luffy says 'Duh!' with a laugh and Sanji rubs his temples. Luffy just wraps around him and plants a sloppy kiss to Sanji's cheek. It's rough, especially when everyone laughs at him. Life continues on for the crew as normal, even through Sabaody just with more letters. Bellemere and Sora constantly asking if they're okay and what they can send to help along with pictures of Cocoyashi and Nojiko and the orchard waiting for them at home. But then on Sabaody the crew with more members and more scars is ripped apart and separated. Sanji has failed his captain and his sister and his moms, Nami has failed her captain, and Luffy has failed his family, his crew, the love of his life. Vivi weeps openly at the news of Marineford and Bellemere stares at the paper as Sora screams curses and heaves sobs out of her chest for losing her son again and now losing a daughter as Nojiko shakes with anger. Two years pass.

Two whole years pass. Two years of getting stronger, of worrying about Luffy who watched his brother die. Of speaking in Northern to feel comfort to no one who understands. Nami remembers speaking in it with Sanji when they wanted to talk shit or Sanji got so excited about something he just slipped into his native tongue and accent, he used to sing to Luffy in it after they actually got together. Hearing it in person after so long as they run to each other, and she leaps into his arms and he catches her and holds onto her. The words falling from his mouth like the rain used to pour in Cocoyashi and Robin smiles sweetly at them and Franky sobs about siblings reuniting. Luffy comes barreling after a while and barrels into Sanji when he's getting groceries and kisses him so fucking hard. They depart Sabaody with allies and friends made during their time apart protecting them as Luffy begs Sanji to cook for him, which he does. Nami smiles and Sanji catches it and smiles back, it looks just like his All Blue Smile and she knows he loves with his whole heart, wears it on his sleeve Luffy holds it so kindly. Just like Vivi holds her's safe back in Alabasta. How Cocoyashi also holds segments of their hearts with their moms and sister. They make it through Fishman Island and to Punk Hazard and Law stares at the Cat Burglar and Cook who speak in Northern and when he slips into their conversations they grin at him and warn him to not let Luffy know. Law takes this warning to heart.

Nami stares in horror because her brother is a self-sacrificing idiot, it's just like when he got struck by lightning on Skypeia except he's strung up by a fucking evil moron. She's screaming for him as Law frees him and they send off. Nami's helping bandage him and Sanji gives her that shit eating grin because he would always protect his little sister. He does it all over again with that damned self sacrificing smile as he signs his death warrant basically and Nami is screaming for him as he's promising to come back, and Nami knows he's believing that he'll come back but she figured out that this would either end in him leaving the crew or dying. She screams until her voice is raw and running after them to get him back. When Luffy and them make it to Zou everyone notices the teary eyes of Nami immediately as she latches to Luffy and Chopper hurls himself into Usopp's. Sanji is gone, his father took him to marry him off and if they don't get him back he might die. Luffy is staring at her because of Sanji's promise on Drum Island is ringing through the captain's head.

Sora, Bellemere, and Nojiko are staring at Sanji's bounty poster between working and trying to find news on the siblings. When the denden in town rings and someone comes to tell them it's for them and they all but run. It's Nami, she's sobbing and apologizing because it was the Vinsmoke's that took him. She and Luffy and several others are going after him, to get him back. Sora tells her as much as she can, being locked in medical meant she wasn't privy to as much as she would like, but still, better than nothing. Nami thanks them and says she'll call when they get him back. Bellemere holds her wife and daughter as they start sobbing and when she gets them home and calmed down she decides to cash in a few favors owed from her time as a marine. Several calls later she makes sure that there's back up for her kids, whether they want it or not. Come Hell or high-water Bellemere will not lose any of them. When the rescue team makes it to the carriage. Nami watches in horror at the hold these people have over her brother but steels herself as she marches forward after her captain falls. She marches over to Sanji and his eyes only show pain and sorrow and guilt as Nami slaps him, quickly pulling him into her arms and his whispered apologies but he he has to as he shoves her off. Luffy stands and yells at him, Nami staring after them while clenching her fists, tears spilling down her face because she's so angry. Angry at his dad for taking him away, angry that Sanji feels he has no choice, angry at herself for not fighting for him. Whole Cake continues normally but after though, small group of what seem to be Marines help the Strawhat Pirates on their escape. They're all about Bellemere's age, which confuses the rescue team and Sanji because why? After they make it to calmer waters the marines yell to them to tell Bellemere they're even now and to stop being so much like their mother. Luffy laughs and plants a big old kiss on Sanji's cheek as Nami yells back for them to fuck off essentially. They can't really think of better people to emanate. They go call their moms and sister and calm them down, more or less, they're pissed and rightfully so. They don't know Zeff is standing with them until he says something like 'I'm calling everyone who owes me favors now, your exhusband is dead, little sister' causing a ruckus on both sides of the denden. Don't piss of their moms.

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

This insane steddie au ft. Chrissy because I LOVE season 3 steddie aus and I will eat them all up istg

Yes this was deleted and I had to rewrite it.

Damn. Another strike out.

He had been on a roll, he'd gotten three girls phone numbers and his hair hasn't moved an inch.

The last couple of hours however, have been humiliating.

Eddie's cackles still haunt him along with the squeak of the marker on the white board.

"You suck Harrington!"

"Yeah, yeah, just...go back to work you're not even supposed to cover the front."

He'd worked with Eddie for a month now. He still hasn't gotten a chance to have a decent conversation with him. Management decided someone like Eddie was better kept behind the counter, not visible to the public. This didn't leave a lot of time for Steve to start a game of twenty questions.

Steve is leaning on his palm, elbow on the counter. He's bored and keeping blowing a piece of hair out of his eye. He catches a glimmer blonde in the corner of his eye and quickly stands.

He makes direct eye contact with Chrissy Cunningham standing nervously in front of him, wringing her hands together.

This was gonna be easy.

"Hi Steve," she waves.

He narrows his eyes at her flirtatiously.

"Hi Chrissy. Here for something specific?"

He folds his arms across his chest in a way he knows shows off his muscles.

"It's, a- kind of complicated."

"Really?" He leans a little over the counter. "Anything I can help you with?"

Chrissy freezes up immediately.

Shit.

She looks nauseous.

"Is Eddie here?"

"Is Eddie- what."

The man himself push Steve to the side. He puts his head in his palm and his elbow on the counter.

"Hi sweetheart," he purrs.

Chrissy giggles.

"Hi Eddie."

"What can I do for you? Here for help with your little bird?"

"Eddie!" Chrissy punches Eddie's shoulder and gives Steve a side eye.

Eddie turns and glares at Steve.

"Excuse us your majesty but this is a private matter."

Steve can't even bring up that they're the ones that are taking up the public space. He's in too much shock. He heads to the backroom but sticks his head out just watching them.

He can't believe it! Chrissy Cunningham asking for Eddie?! His Eddie?! His...platonic coworker Eddie?!

What does she like about him? It's gotta be the hair. His dark curly hair that you could wrap your fingers in. Oh! His long guitarist fingers. Probably lined with callouses that feel so good when they rub your skin just right.

He probably plays her his shitty music that he plays for Steve in the backroom. He probably saves her extra scoops like he does for Steve. She probably enjoys looking at his eyes like Steve does. Eddie's eyes shine like amber in the light. So loud and expressive. Steve has a rock he likes to look at that reminds him of Eddie's eyes.

Eddie laughs a good hardy laugh. It's distracting.

Steve's never been able to make Eddie laugh. Eddie's only laughs at Steve.

God he wants him to look at him like that.

What.

You know what...

...

Steve sees the appeal.

---

Yes! Eddie is helping chrissy through a gay crisis. They simply had that talk in the woods a year earlier and decided they were perfect best friends.

Yes! Robin hasn't started working at scoops yet but Eddie convinces her to get the job just so he can wingman chrissy

Yes! Steve freaked out for about five seconds and then was completely fine with his crush on eddie

Steve also apologizes to Chrissy if he ever freaked her out and offers her a firm handshake to start off their friendship which chrissy happily takes.

Robin and Chrissy team up to get Steve and Eddie together

Platonic stobin all the way of course!

Yes this is shorter because I guess I deleted it the first time and rewrote it from memory.