#he really pulled that shit outta nowhere

[squorttle-pox]

so true it makes my ears sing

It’s the last minute of Ready for This for me

I can’t stop listening to it😩

[yoditopascal]

After Hours

“I'm fallin' in too deep. Without you, don't wanna sleep. 'Cause my heart belongs to you. I'll risk it all for you. I want you next to me.”

warnings: fluff, established relationships, suggested smut

Jason pushed the windows open as he came in the room with a yawn.

Taking off his Red Hood helmet he tossed it to the side as he shuffled outta his costume.

“C’mon, seriously,” he muttered as he stood in the doorway, pants at his ankles in nothing but his Wonder Woman boxers “it’s like 5am what are you still doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, too much to do.”

“Like what?” He asked resting a hand on his hip

“I got a shit ton of math work due soon plus I need to finish my essay annnnd I work tomorrow.” You shrugged taking a sip of your cold coffee

“You know you can’t survive purely on caffeine, right?” He sighs

“Like you’re any better.” You replied

“At least I eat.” He argued back

“Barely!”

“Come on. Take a break.” He said sitting next to you on the bed while resting a hand on your back.

“I can’t,” you said, lifting your head to face him. You had so much to do. So much to study and so little time for it all.

“Come on,” he said again, grabbing your hand and tugging you to him. “Just for the day. You’ll feel better after. I promise.”

It was Jason’s idea to take you out to the small park around the block from your shared apartment in the Hill, after a short nap and some breakfast at your favorite diner. It was a sunny day and it was well deserved after finishing a grueling week of college classes, trying to earn your bachelor’s degree.

His smart cookie Jason liked to call you.

As you walked, wandering around the park pointing out different animals, feeding birds and just talking to each other, Jason tries to place his hand in your back pocket but when he realizes you’re wearing joggers, his favorite ones he might add, the ones that hug the curves of your ass just right, he rests his hand right over your ass.

“Really?” You chuckle as you lean into his side savoring his warmth

“What? I can’t help myself, that thing is like a magnet.” He shrugged bringing his hand to rest on your hip as you walked.

You stayed at the park for what felt like hours just enjoying each other’s company till the sky started to turn orange and your bellies started to rumble with hunger.

“Let’s head back.” Jason said as he stood from his spot on the park bench you two had stopped to rest at, pulling you with him by the hand as he led you back to the apartment.

Back at the apartment, Jason had you wait in the living room while he cleaned up the room a bit. When you were finally allowed to enter the room you aww’ed at how sweet he was being.

Jason had a whole set up for you. He changed the sheets and comforter and had the tv set up to your favorite show. Candles were lit on the end tables and a few small snacks were set out too.

“What do you say babe wanna Netflix and chill for a bit?”

Chilling was definitely the word you would use for what y’all did. Both of you had stripped down and threw on your pajamas, yours being a pair of shorts and one of Jason’s shirts, and his being a old t-shirt and his favorite pair of green joggers, and jumped right into bed.

You ended up watching almost a whole season of your favorite show while Jason just laid at your side and read his book.

A few hours later and the sky was dark, stars were starting to shine brightly in the sky. Jason stepped out to go and grab some food from y’all’s favorite local diner again. When he got back the room was dark, the tv was off and you were nowhere in sight.

Panic gripped his chest for a split second before he realized the window to the fire escape was open, climbing up it he was met with the sight of you sitting on the rooftop peacefully watching the sky as you hummed to yourself.

“Whatchu doing out here?” Jason asked as he plopped down next to you on the rooftop. He had the burgers he had gone to pick up in one hard and your drinks in the other.

“Nothing. Just clearing my head.” You leaned forward to rest your cheek on your knees, while staring at him a small smile creeping up on your face.

“What’s with the look?”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate you Jay.” You smiled up at him

“Stop before I puke” he said turning away from you to hide the small pink tint to his cheeks. Compliments weren’t really his thing but you always liked to shower him with them

“I’m serious!”

“Yeah whatever eat your food.” he said handing you your burger and drink. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes as you ate you leaning into him every so often as you hummed in satisfaction, him rolling his eyes at you but smiling behind his burger as you did so.

The two of you sat and enjoyed the quiet, simply watching the stars and just enjoying each other’s company. Jason kept glancing back at you now and again, whether it was to make sure you were still there or just to appreciate your face you weren’t sure but you accepted the attention nonetheless.

“I’m surprised you took the night off.” You said as you leaned back into his side.

“Roy’s got it covered.” He said stretching out and placing a blanket around you both

“How is Roy?” You asked

“Roy’s…Roy.” He shrugged

You snuggle a bit closer trying to steal his body heat which made him chuckle

“You heat vulture.”

“What? It’s chilly!” You shrug

You’re practically in his lap, legs draped over his, when you start to play with his hair, fingers running through his scalp massaging it as he leaning into your touch

“Whatcha doin there, princess?”

Your fingers move down to play with the hair at the back of his neck. “Just enjoying your company is all.”

“Mhm. Are you hoping to continue to enjoy my company?” He hums in response as he cocks his brow at you suggestively.

You chuckle and he gives you a look

“Well, I guess I can invite you in for a few minutes, Mr. Red Hood.”

He smirks as his fingers dancing across your neck and collarbone before coming to rest on your jaw “How thoughtful of you.”

He caught your mouth with his own the kiss starting off gentle but quickly evolving

Pulling away from the now bruising kiss Jason kissed and nipped along your jaw to neck mouthing at the spot he knew never failed to make you weak in the knees.

You let out a breathless moan as he worked at your neck leaving dark love marks in his wake before finding his way back up to your lips with a smile, a shiver runs down your spine.

He pulls you closer, running his hands across your body, lingering on your thighs and ass. The blanket falls from around you two pooling around your heated bodies.

Jason licked at your mouth asking for entrance which you were all too happy to oblige. He ran his tongue along yours, deepening the kiss once more as you tilted your head to give him better access to your mouth.

He lifted you up without breaking the kiss putting you in his lap quickly picking up in intensity as he kissed you again and again. Your legs encircled his hips as he groped and dragged you into him slowly but heatedly grinding himself to your core.

Just as his hands found your waistband and started wandering a little further south you pulled away from his lips with a wet pop.

“We’re on the roof Jay.”

“Right.” he said, sounding a little embarrassed that he had gotten so carried away out in the open like that. He buries his face in your neck and inhales, trying to calm himself down. You smell good he realizes but he pushes the thought back down.

You peck his lips on last time before pushing off of him. You stood and stretched before grabbing his hand and leading him back down the fire escape to your cozy little apartment.

Pushing him down onto the mattress Jason smirked up at you before looking at you in confusion.

“Wait where are you going?” he said watching you grab a towel.

“I have to shower,” You said dryly, taking off your clothes, turning to face him, you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Care to join me?”

Jumping up from the bed Jason scooped you up into his arms carrying you into the bathroom with him

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

[cherry-cola-on-ice]

Can you write a story that has Thomas Hewitt getting jealous at a guy flirting with his S/O please love your work🙏🙏🙏🙏

Jealousy Jealousy

It shouldn't bug him so much. Especially after all this time.

It wasn't your fault after all. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful you were. Everything about you was crafted by some higher being, sculpted from the stars and the skies. And you were so sweet, so kind. You brought a smile to even Uncle Monty's face.

And most of all, he knew you loved him. He repeatedly told himself, saying it over and over again in his head like his own personal mantra. As long as you loved him, he didn't need anything else.

Thomas's eyebrows furrowed as you laughed at the joke. He couldn't tell you jokes. But this stranger could. This handsome, younger man with perfect teeth and perfect hair. He looked like one of those men on the front of the harlequin novels Hoyt steals out of suitcases.

You laughed again, head thrown back. God, you were perfect. Too perfect for him. This stranger was the type of man you deserved.

From the back room of the gas station, Thomas shifted his weight nervously. He knew he should have left you at the house. It was a bad idea, just like Hoyt said. You brought to much attention to yourself. Unknowingly and unwittingly, of course. Never your intention.

But you had a magnetic power around you, drawing people in.

Your soft eyes were what made him fall in love with you. When his family first found you, hiding out in their barn, crying your eyes out, he felt a pang in his heart that was new to him. You looked scared and you were alone. Everyone else had left you, all meeting their ends by his chainsaw.

He asked you why you didn't struggle and you always shrugged "I guess they were never really my friends to begin with. They tried to leave me for dead. "

And he didn't question it at first. After all, it all brought you to him. You were his now.

But-

You should hate him. You should fight him. You shouldn't be able to stand the sight of him. You were better off with this man, this stranger who could give you the life you deserved. The overwhelming feeling of despair hit him like a shot to the stomach.

But then you turned to him. And smiled. That sweet smile, the one that lit up a room and light up his life. And it was directed at him. It was his smile.

And for a moment, all was right in the world. You chose him.

But then-

"So, I gotta wonder... What's a sweet thing like you doing in a shit hole like this?"

From afar, Thomas could see you bristle, your demeanor change from jovial to defense "What's that supposed to mean? There's nothing wrong with here."

The stranger laughed "Yeah, it's cute in tetanus shot kinda way. But nowhere such a hot piece of ass such as you should be. "

Thomas ought to punt this creep straight into a grinder. His fist balled up and he began stalking towards him-

Except you beat him to the punch. Quite literally.

The stranger fell to the floor, holding his bloody nose. Whimpering. Thomas was surprised, he didn't think this guy would go down that easily. The man wasn't as tall as him, but he was still a sizable man. And you floored him.

Looking back to you, he watched as you shook your hand out, cursing under your breath "Fucking hell, dude! Your face made out of concrete?!?"

"YOU BROKE MY NOSE, YOU BITCH!"

"Yeah, and I'll do it again if you don't get your ass outta here!"

The man, holding his bleeding nose, lifted himself off the ground, shooting daggers at you. Instinctively, Thomas placed his body between the two of you, glaring back at him.

The stranger, though looking absolutely terrified, feigned confidence and scoffed as he walked by. You grabbed Thomas's arm, shouting as the stranger left the store "Yeah! Get out here, you-"

Thomas spun you around, grabbing your face in his hands. He looked you over, looking for any signs of harms. You scrunched your nose "I'm fine, Thomas!"

Thomas huffed, pulling you close to him. You laughed in his arms, standing up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his mask. Thomas looked down at you, taking in the lovestruck look in your eyes.

Yeah, he had nothing to worry about.

[hoshigray]

https://www.tumblr.com/hoshigray/725915919672573952/sit-down-for-this-one-alright-how-bout-a-gigolo

your fic with toji i love it sm 🫶🫶🫶 BUT how would he react if reader tried someone elses services cs her friends told her to try it out…

noonie, you're so real for this bc damn, why the hell didn't i think of that :OOO lol hope you like this, hon~~ spin-off of this → ☆;

cw: gigolo! Toji x fem! reader - smut so minors DNI - dumbification - toji being jealous/possessive bc duh - cunnilingus (f! receiving) - clitoral play (biting/grazing + pinching) - degradation (toji calling you a whore and slut) - scratching (f! receiving) - impact play; pussy slaps - prone bone + full nelson position - pet names (baby, mama, princess) - new playboy may or may not be Gojo *shrugs* ;) - just Toji fucking you dumb, lol - mention of drool and tears. wc: 1.6k

What should've happened today was Toji enjoying a night to himself because tonight he's seeing a client he hadn't seen in a long while. Nothing wrong with spending an afternoon with an old acquaintance, specifically when it entails a good night of getting his dick wet for a thick sum of cash. Besides, he planned on seeing you afterward — his little sweet thing — stopping by your place and spending the night.

It's funny, isn't it? He met you because of this little hustle of his, and here he is fawning over you like some dumb schoolboy. It makes him feel a bit of a wimp, catching feelings for a customer? That's rookie moves. But he couldn't care less; long as he gets to see your darling smile and fuck the ever-loving shit out of you once per week, all is good in the books.

Seeing and swooping you off your feet later tonight is what was supposed to happen. That's all he was thinking about exiting the hotel room after his client left and paid for his services as promised. So, why the hell were you the first person he saw out of the room? Your face utterly petrified when you turn to see him with another man's arm dropped over your shoulders. A familiar man — another playboy who seemed elated to be around with you. Toji could assume the worst from what he was seeing. Oh, hell no.

What happened today was meant to be kept between two people — you and this new playboy. It came out of fucking nowhere when your friends crowding you about this "new guy in town," elucidating how handsome and pretty the guy is and how great he was in bed ("I'm telling you, Y/n, you really outta try him out!" "No, for real though. Like, here's a pic of him we took right after he ate me out! Don't you think he has the most gorgeous eyes~?"). You had to admit the young man was charming, but that didn't necessarily mean you wanted to do anything explicit with him. So, why did your friends schedule a night with him for you!?? Still puzzled over the fact, you can't seem to answer.

Regardless, you did have sex with another guy today — another Gioglo at that. It wasn't anything serious between you two, just casual sex for money. Plus, it was a pleasure to hang out with him, as the guy seemed fun to be around! Even with his dark shades on, the brightest thing was his dashing smile. However, a deep part of yourself felt guilt over the charade because you haven't had services with anyone else other than Toji. Sure, you and the older man aren't in a labeled relationship outside of an escort and his client. But still, he's the only man you've been intimate with. He's the only one who knows your body more than you, what you like, and how to turn you on. You were his favorite after all.

To be in the hold of another man just felt wrong...That's why your eyes go wider than golf balls when you unexpectedly bump into him when leaving your hotel room with your new one-night stand. Oh, fucking shit...

It all happened relatively quick. One moment, Toji snatches your wrist and pulls you off the young playboy, having you follow his storming march to the hotel room he just left. The next moment, you're gasping for dear life with Toji propping you against a wall, his head buried between your legs dangled on his shoulders, and his mouth ravishing your soaked folds.

"Ahhh!!Ahhhh!! Toji, too fast, please st—Ohooo!!!"

"Shut the fuck up," he says coldly, giving your clitoris a light bite before giving it a slow lick. You jerk and shiver at the tease. "Stay still, or I'm droppin' ya."

Toji smacks on your chasm, a scream leaving your lips, and you just know the others next door heard. And a pinch to your clit results in incoherent babbles, drool pooling in your mouth drips down your chin.

It doesn't stop there. All your clothes discarded to the floor, he has you pinned on the bed by your shoulders, your legs trapped between his, and his pelvis hammering down on you. Forced wails erupt from your throat with every hash rut to the ass, your slit clamping onto him with every graze to your sweet spots. You grip the sheets from his vigorous pace, tears coursing down your hot face and staining the cream cotton pillowcase.

"...Ahhhaaa!!Nnmmph!! Ohhhhfuckingshiiiiit!!" It isn't the first you've had Toji drill his cock into you with a harsh cadence. Yet, with how each fierce and snappy thrust turns your mind to mush, being pinned to the mattress as your breath gets snatched away, you knew long before that what Toji was doing to you was different than all the other times you've had sex. A lot more aggressive — a lot more deadly.

And the older man doesn't falter at all, nope. If anything, your cries only fuel his drive even more, a grin lifting his scar on the right of his lip. "Hmm, what's wrong, baby? Not fast 'nough for ya?" You open your mouth, but your words are comprised of euphoric wails. Ticked, Toji smacks your ass, and a yelp escapes your sore body. He comes down to your ear while grinding his hips on your ass, choked shrieks are muffled by the pillow. "Hey, I'm talkin'. Hmm? You thinkin' bout that other fucker's dick inside ya, huh? He fuck ya real hard like this?"

"N-Nmmm....Noooo, I—OhhhhJesusssss...."

"You what?" A sharp thrust to your chasm prompts you to howl and your eyes roll back, too fucked out of your mind to know how loud you are. "Heh, y're lookin' real stupid right now. I bet you can't think a fuckin' thing with my dick in—Mmmm! fuck....Grippin' on me hard, actin' like a real whore, princess." More abrupts hits to your ass as his nails dig to your bare shoulders; the pain coincide with the pleasure you're experiencing has you seeing stars.

He fucks you like this for what feels like an hour, your ass and pussy hot from the constant contact of his pelvis and balls smacking deep into you. The feeling of his dick being practically the only thing rotting your mind.

But you don't get rest just yet, though. Towards the end, the sun is completely down, the city lights are displayed from the hotel window, and your ecstatic moans still fill the room. Your back is to his chest, your legs pulled back to your chest by his arms and forcing you in a headlock, while his intense ruts return and his cock churns your spongey insides. Here is where you've given up restraining yourself, letting Toji use your body as his plaything, tears and drool painting your face into a gorgeous mess.

"....Ohhoooo, Ahhhoooo—Hmmmm," your brain is too long gone to think proper sentences, your mouth sprouting out nonsense. It all humors the man beneath you, his gruff chuckles vibrating your back balanced on his chest. "Soooo deeep — sosodeeeep..."

"Feelin' good there, mama?" You only respond with a euphoric hum, another snicker from the older man. "Too fucked outta're mind to answer me. Lettin' another man touch this pussy; you take dick from everybody, huh. What a fuckin' slut..." He pushes his length upward to your hole. Come leaking from you, and a white ring around the base of his dick is evidence of your session. "Hnngh! But I made ya like that..."

"....Fuuuuck, Tojiiiii, don't stooop!!" You cry out to him with gritted teeth, your haze only worsening with his cock brushing up on your G- spot precisely. "Ohhhhhh, right there, right thereeee!!"

"Mmmph—Ohhhh shit," the way your cunt contracts around him almost makes him give in to another orgasm, biting on your shoulder to compose himself. "....Shit, shit, shit, so fuckin' tight, baby...."

The hot air and thick musk of your buddies get to your head, your head ringing and pounding. Screams grow higher with every stroke, and the cold shivers crawl up your spine. It's almost here. "Toji, Tojiii, I'm gonna cumm—hic—sooocloseee!!"

Toji sneers once more. "Yeah, you are. Cumming is all y'r pretty, dumb brain can think about." And with that, his pace increases speed, drilling your walls with his veiny girth. It all electrifies your nerves, your breathing off the rails, and your climax slapping you hard with the deep thrusts he gives you.

With a cloudy mind and a mindless smile, your slit flutters on Toji's length beautifully. Too enraptured with the blissful sensation to worry about the spit streaming down your puffy lips. And it doesn't take long for Toji to be under the same spell as you, his rhythm falling back with the spill of his load inside you. His brows trenched while pumping into you, his balls pulsing with your velvet walls.

Heaving bodies soon fall into a tranquil state, your breathing finding its way into a steady flow. Finally, Toji permits your body and mind to relax from his relentless hold, releasing your body from the full nelson and gently sliding your tired body next to his.

He wipes the saliva from your mouth with the back of his hand, his hooded jade eyes never leaving your fatigued ones. "Hehe, sorry 'bout that, baby. You just feel too good to share."

You purr into his touch, his hand cupping your cheek. "Too good that you'd break my ass?" He barks an exhausted laugh at your remark, a tired giggle fleeing your lips.

"For you, I'd break anyone else that thinks they can have you." Toji kisses your temple.

"And my ass?"

"...Only if I'm the one breakin' it." You playfully hit his abs, and another laugh leaves the older man before you two sleep in each other's warmth.

want more like this? plz send me more thirsts ♡

[bonezone44]

Weighted Vest (18+)

Bisexual!Frankie "Catfish" Morales x nb!afab!Reader

word count: 864

Summary: You ask Frankie to "fuck you like men fuck" and you both get more than you bargained for.

Read The Tags: Consensual Non-Consent. rough P-in-v, gender play, male stereoypes, heavy degradation. no orgasm. Allusions to past sexual assault (on Frankie, not by Frankie. And not involving Reader). Angst. Reader has hair long enough to be pulled.

A/N: this is my first time really writing Frankie. this kinda came outta nowhere.

"Goddamn, dude. I been thinkin 'bout this dick all day," you grouse. Your pants are gone and you lower yourself onto Frankie's cock.

He hisses and grabs at your breasts through your shirt. "Yeah, man. You like this cock?" He says through gritted teeth. "You like takin it up this boy pussy you got?" He thrusts upward.

You moan. "Fuck yeah, Frankie. Fuck yeah, I do." His lips are tight and he looks angry while you ride him. You wanna let go and collapse into him. You want his mouth on yours. You wanna taste his tongue. You lean forward to kiss him and he pulls you back by the hair.

"Men don't kiss when they fuck," he grunts. He lets go and his fingers pinch and twist at your nipples through your shirt. He tugs hard.

"They don't?" You ask, even though you know that isn't true at all. You can barely keep your eyes open.

"Nope," he says matter-of-factly, shaking his head. "They just fuck."

"Fuck, Frankie," you moan. "C'mon, man. You gotta give me something!"

"I don't gotta give you shit!" He says. "You're lucky I'm fuckin you at all."

You scoff. "C'mon, dude. If you didn't wanna fuck me, you wouldn't be fuckin me."

"I'm doin you a fuckin favor, asshole--"

"Bitch, I'm doin you a favor by givin you a hole to fuck!"

"You asked me to show you how men fuck and I'm fuckin showin you."

You roll your eyes. "I'm not seein much of a difference."

"Alright, fine," he spits. "How's this?" He tosses you off his dick and throws you back on the bed. Before you can do much, he flips your body over, and roughly pulls both your arms back. He brings your wrists together, but one falls as he puts his dick back inside you. He grabs it again and starts pounding into you, his hips slapping loudly against your ass. He hits a spot inside you that makes you shout. "No," he chides. "You keep that mouth shut!" He grabs the nearest thing he can find, which is his own underwear, and shoves it in your mouth. "You keep quiet and you take it! No matter how much it hurts!" He knows you well enough to know those were cries of pleasure. "You're lucky I don't stick it in your ass right now! Split you in half and make you bleed everywhere like a little bitch!" He huffs and pants as he drives into you again and again. "That's how men do it. They don't give a fuck. They use you however the fuck they want if you're too fuckin weak and stupid to fight 'em off!" He growls from deep in his gut. "Guess that's you, huh? Weak little bitch! Fuckin pathetic for lettin me do this to ya, huh? Huh?!"

Your forehead is pressed into the mattress. You don't know what the right answer is. You don't know if there is one. You turn your head to the side and nod.

"Jesus christ! You're not even gonna fight back? You're just gonna admit it? Have some fuckin self-respect, ya fuckin idiot!" He grunts loudly. "Goddamn! Who fuckin raised you, boy? Huh? Who fuckin raised a piece uh shit like you? You're lucky I don't do worse to ya!" His thrusts begin to falter, but his shouts get louder. "You are so fuckin worthless! You fuckin deserve this! You fuckin deserve it!"

Frankie pulls out and you open your eyes, glancing back over your shoulder. His face is red and his lips are parted. His eyes dance around and he blinks rapidly. You pull the underwear from your mouth and turn around.

"Are you okay?"

He flinches and holds his palm up with his eyes closed. His chest heaves with each breath. You wait patiently for his eyes to open again. It takes longer than you anticipated but you're patient. It's Frankie after all. You had no idea this request of yours would trigger him. You don't think he realized it either.

Once his eyes do open again, he stares down at the bed with his hands on his knees. He chews his lips. His body trembles and you see him tense against it.

"Will you hold me?" You ask because you know he never will--he'll never ask you to hold him. He never asks you for anything. Not really. Not like this.

His eyes meet yours briefly before they find the sheets again. But he nods. "Yeah," he mutters out with a hot breath.

You lie down and he falls in place behind you. He wraps his arms around your torso and rests one leg over your own. You know he'll never talk about it. But that's okay. It's not your pain to handle. It's not your history to digest. You just hope that maybe this is enough. Maybe it's enough that you stuck around. Maybe a part of him knew this was the only way it could come out. You grab one of his hands into your own and interlock your fingers. "Thank you for doin that for me."

He sighs against the back of your head. "'S nothin," he says and pulls you closer.

----

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Popping up in your askbox for the second time today oh boy- I really hope you don't mind me requesting again aaahhhh feel free to pick and choose one if you wish, no pressure at all! 🎔 Alright, this is actually not a romantic request but general hcs for the band! I'd love to see your take on how the band would be around their fifth member that is pretty much the most shameless and open person out there. The reader's not afraid to make snarky remarks on stage and interviews, will make a fool of themselves if needed, will wander around in undies like "one of the boys" (I hate that phrase but idk how else to explain it, I have to pull out my english is my second language card). Basically a chaotic free spirit of a person! Prefferably female reader but you can make it neutral too ^^

Have a great night Lana! ♡

(Jello! I love this idea and this is sorta me in my DR also! Sorry if this took a long time to put out, enjoy and have a wonderful night!)

Chaotic And Carefree Reader

Bill Kaulitz

He is most likely surprised on how open you are

And shameless

He thinks you are just like Tom

So it's no wonder you guys have all been friends since you were kids

He is happy you find it very comfortable with him

You often steal his shorts and wander around in a bra

He's so used to it he doesn't blink twice

Will ask you sometimes if you're okay with him being around you while you're not wearing a lot

Is surprised you don't give a shit but just shrugs it off

You're like his sister that clung onto his back so he doesn't mind

He finds your behavior in interviews so funny

You just pop outta nowhere with the craziest shit

Is collapsing into your side and giggling into your shoulder at your comments

He asks a lot why you say just whatever and you responded like it was nothing

He fears a scandal and doesn't say too much in interviews so he is slightly worried when you just put everything out there

Finds it quite normal on how open you could be about anything

From relationships, too hookups, to compliment's, insults, everything and anything

He's laughing as he tells you to stop insulting people in interviews but is laughing so hard he can't breath

The type you have to double over and take a minute

His laughs go silent

You have saved his ass quite a few times by making a fool outta yourself

You don't mind though but he feels as if he owes you

So get him to pay up or steal his shit because when he owes you he will let you get away with murder

You don't fear a lot of shit and just are you and he admires that

Will let you go about your style, laugh while you snark interviewers and disrespectful fans

When he needs someone to insult someone or just to make a snarky comment he calls you on what to say

Tom Kaulitz

He's still the playful asshole he is

So as you walk around in just a bra and underwear, not giving a shit, he doesn't blink twice

He will throw a flirty comment just for the hell of it and seeing you flip him off

You guys just have a game on who can piss each other off

But he truly doesn't mind when you hang out with him just in shorts and a bra like nothing

Some people have put you two in a dating scandal and you guys laugh at it so many times while just saying you're comfortable being like that around him

He doesn't mind it, neither do you so you guys don't get the issue

But tbh you guys found it funny to trick press with a dating scandal bc they started but whatever

He often times forgets you're not his sibling

It's most of the times when you guys are beating each other up and someone breaks it up saying

"Tom, you can't hit her! She's a girl!"

He doesn't give a shit and will fight them and you just to show them just because you're a girl, does not mean you can't fight

You and Tom probably tag team the person for doubting you

Tom and you don't use the phrase "one of the boys" rarely, if ever because you're truly best friends who are comfortable

He and you are assholes when making snarky comments

You guys are just alike that people need to be careful on what they say because you can make a joke or comment out of everything

You and Tom can't stop, it physically pains you both so much

He eggs you on when you make comments on stage or in interviews

He even joins in and you both can make someone cry, not that you mean to

He legit has to beg you to get him out of a situation by making a fool of yourself

You don't care what people think and would do it for free but you just wanna see him suffer

Georg Listing

Georg does not give a shit what you wear around him

Also doesn't blink twice when you walk in exposed in barely anything

He just says hi and goes about his day

You guys make up snarky comments to add to your collection like the assholes you guys are

Arguments between you two get so back but you somehow end up being best friends again the next hour

You have a confusing, funny and asshole-y relationship

You guys are the duo to be absolutely ruthless to each other

You say what's on his mind every single time you open his mouth

Will elbow you but is secretly laughing behind his hand

Loves seeing the faces people make out of surprise at your comments

He is also egging you on so much

He just enjoys the show you put on entirely

You say everything and anything and he just shrugs and goes along with it

You could say something horrid and he's like

"Damn. Why's that kinda true though?"

You act so open, shameless and comfortable around him he also often forgets you are not his sibling, much less a guy

He finds it weird to see you act like a actual woman

"Who the fuck are you and where's (Name)?"

"It's me, Georg."

"No, it's not. (Name) dresses like a homeless person, you have more than a shirt on. Can't fool me."

Don't try him because he will actually have a whole ass wrestling match with you

You guys are throwing punches, kicking, the whole nine yards over some bullshit

Gustav Schäfer

You say what's on his mind every single day of your life

He whispers you what to say when he can't and just laughs when you do

Gives you at least a shirt to put on when you wander around in underwear

He's comfortable around you but he doesn't want some creep that sneaks around to see or get pictures of you like that

You guys make fun of people so much that Gustav and you can't help but make comments

You guys look like the kind duo but are actually ruthless

He loves that you don't care what people think about you when you say shit

He admires that and is always supporting you when you do

You're very chaktic but he's there for the ride

Doesn't hold you back from your comments and is just standing there and agreeing with you

Gets you the dirt on people to use in your insults 100%

You guys are my favorite duo I gotta say

Laughs when you make a fool outta yourself on purpose

He doesn't have you save him by making a fool out of yourself

He also doesn't care what people think

He also says comments and is shameless about speaking his mind

He has strong emotions and does not conceal them and will say whatever with you

You guys can go on a whole rant for hours about insults and the person your insulting is just staring at you guys

[red-pill-blue-pill]

As friends.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Miller

Summary: Joel is your friend, he just happens to be really handsome

Warnings: mild spice towards the end ??? just in case, fluff, friends to lovers (just so y'all know I'm a sucker for that shit)

a/n: I wanted to write a little blurb but it got outta hand. This is is my first time writing for the Joel Miller and i'm nervous (I love this character so much) so please be kind 💖

His living room was dimly lit by one of the lamps next to the couch. Something played in the background, blues you think. He had found a record player a couple of weeks ago while he was patrolling with Tommy. He had even come across some records in perfect condition, tucked inside a tattered wardrobe. He was such a lucky fucker. 

When he came back, he showed them off to you while saying something along the lines of “‘f you wanna listen to them you gotta come to mine, sweetheart” flashing you one of his now familiar cocky smiles, as if he needed to convince you to spend time with him.

Your stomach still churns at the nickname and you chastise yourself every time, for letting your mind even dare to go down that path when it’s Joel the one you’re talking about, for even thinking about him that way. Joel, your fucking friend. It had to be the lack of romantic action in your life. It had been so long since you last were with someone that your brain had to be confused. No one in Jackson had caught your eye for the last couple of years, nor tried to make any advances to you, and who would have dared when you were next to Joel —mean scary Joel— every single day?

Still, you didn’t care, you spent most of your free time either with him or at his house, playing games with Ellie while he was on patrol or sipping on wine and talking about your day when he fixed you a nice dinner. Like right now, back at his living room, soft blues playing in the background and the soft orange light from his lamp rendering the room even cozier. 

You were sitting on his sofa, glass of wine in hand. Blues had never been your type of music, at least not until Joel showed you one of the records he found on patrol, an Eric Clapton one, a smile from ear to ear and an excited “Look what I’ve found, I reckon you gon’ love it.” 

But now, as you look at him sprawled on the couch, his head —his big ass, heavy head— resting on your legs with his eyes closed and humming softly to the song, you believe it may be your favorite. 

You sipped on your wine and carded your fingers softly through his hair, relishing in the feeling of his hair through your fingers. You looked down at him, his face was completely relaxed, the familiar pull of his frown nowhere to be seen. He looked so peaceful like this, his long lashes fanned over his cheeks and the light casted soft shadows over his face. He was so handsome.

“You are so handsome” your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up. His eyes opened, orbs completely dark thanks to the lightning, and he quirked a brow, clearly amused at your comment. You tried to recover quickly “And I’m just saying this the way a friend calls another friend cute, don’t get too excited.” You chuckled. 

Lies, lies, lies.

He scoffed, “Yeah, right.” he closed his eyes again, letting himself enjoy the feeling of your deft fingers through his hair. “Who you tryna fool, sweetheart? ‘m as old as time.”

You stretched your arm to place the wine glass on the coffee table, careful to not disturb Joel with the motion. This time, your now free hand went to trace the lines on his forehead so softly, a barely there touch. A shiver ran down his spine. It had been a long time since someone touched him with such care, as if he was some precious relic, only to be treated with care. 

“Hate that you can’t see what I see, Joel” your voice was soft, charged with love, but still stern. You hated when he was self deprecating, which unfortunately was very often. 

“And what is it you see?” he swallowed the lump in his throat. Why were his hands sweating all of a sudden?

Your fingers drifted to the lines around his eyes, tracing them with your fingertips. “For starters you’re rugged and strong and that’s just plain attractive. Besides, you think age kills beauty, but it’s quite the opposite.” His eyes opened once again and gazed up at you, something you couldn’t quite make out swirling in them. You continued, trying to ignore the heat of his stare “The lines in your face… they mean you’ve lived, you’re alive.” you are here with me

“What do you mean?” his voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse because of the sudden dryness that  had taken over his mouth. 

“This one right here” you smoothed out his semi-permanent frown with your thumb “tells me you’ve got very few friends.” 

“m‘kay, that’s rude.” he feigned hurt for a few seconds, then he saw your bright smile. That goddamned smile, the one he never got tired of seeing. And then he smiled too. A small and barely there grin. 

“Then the ones around your eyes”, your fingers skimmed over his crows feet,  “they tell me that you’ve laughed and smiled a lot, that despite this nightmare we’ve found ourselves in, you were happy once.”

Silent fell over the room, Eric Clapton sang in the background as Joel and you played at your personal staring contest, one charged with unspoken feelings. His eyes were wide in surprise, searching your face, looking for something you sure fucking hoped he found in the way your soft eyes looked back at him. Your fingers still threaded through his locks, not once having stopped since he laid his head on your legs. Everything felt intimate, maybe way too intimate for just a couple of good friends having some wine after dinner. 

A nervousness settled in your bones, the kind of feeling you get when you know something’s about to happen but you don’t know what. Your heartbeat picked up, it thumped wildly against your chest, your eardrums, all along your veins. Then you cleared your throat, unable to stand the silence any longer. “Anyway, as I said, you are handsome.” you let out an awkward breathy laugh. “I‘m telling you as a friend” you quickly added. Again. For good measurement, right?

He sat back up on the sofa, his body slightly twisted to face you. In the daze of the moment you had completely forgotten how broad he actually was, his knee pressing against your thigh. “As a friend…” he echoed back at you, a teasing smile spreading over his features. God, he was going to be the death of you. 

You reached back for your wine glass and nodded absentmindedly before taking a long gulp, not daring to look him in the eyes just yet. Suddenly, his hand cupped your face softly, fingers pressing lightly into your cheeks, encouraging you to look at him. His eyes were filled with tenderness and the kind of hope you have when love is still a possibility. His lips were mere inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. 

“Would’ya mind if I kissed you, sweetheart?” his voice was low and syrupy and it ignited a different kind of desire in you, something you had never felt before, raw, primal. You inhaled sharply and before you were even able to answer he added “As friends, that is.” he chuckled, clearly proud of himself for teasing you, and you smiled fondly. 

“Ain’t that what really good friends do?” you laughed breathily.

“Oh, I reckon they do a whole lot more than that.” 

His lips pressed softly against yours, a softness you knew Joel was capable of but you had never experienced it yourself. Now, after getting a taste you didn't want to live without it. His hand moved to cup the back of your head, tangling with the hair at the nape of your neck, keeping you against his lips, deepening the kiss. Your hands found purchase on his shoulders, and thank god because suddenly Joel was grabbing your thighs and pulling you to straddle his lap. 

He took advantage of the gasp of surprise that left your lips and licked greedily into your mouth. His hands roamed your back, going down occasionally to squeeze your ass over your jeans, relishing in the whimpers he pulled from you. Your hips started moving on their own accord, rutting against Joel’s growing bulge, making a deep groan rumble on his chest.

You tugged on his hair to break the kiss and stared dreamily at him. His pupils were blown out, his half lidded eyes hazy with lust, his lips swollen and red from kissing and a light shade of red tinted his cheeks. He was positively fucked out. 

“You want this?” he asked while playing with the hem of your t-shirt, ducking his head once again to lick and kiss at your neck.

You could only muster a distracted “Hmh” as you kept rutting your hips against his. “As friends?” you asked between whimpers.

He pulled away to look at you, a hint amusement in his eyes as he took in the cocky grin you were sporting despite the lust filled gaze directed at him. His hands slipped past the waistband of your jeans, grabbing your panties from behind and pulling till the fabric rubbed against your clit. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips.

“As friends” he answered before claiming your mouth once again.

[katsu28]

🍭 “I love you.” “You do?” with jj maybank :)

i haven't written for this himbo in a hot minute, so thank you for this anna baby!!! pls enjoy pining jj <33

jj maybank x reader, short lil best friends to lovers + love confession, 1.6k

“Holy shit, he’s here and I’m not ready yet! J, go stall for time!” You exclaimed, angling your head towards your bedroom, where JJ had been camped out on your bed for hours now, having been the poor soul relegated to help you choose an outfit for your date tonight. The doorbell had just rung whilst you were in the middle of doing your makeup, nearly sending you into a frenzy. 

“Got it!” He yelled back, heaving himself to his feet and stomping down the hall to answer the door, albeit a bit begrudgingly.

There was nothing he wanted to do less than make small talk with yet another guy that wasn’t him taking you on a date. But you asked, and JJ always did what you asked. It came with the territory of being head over heels in love with your best friend. 

He plastered a neutral look on his face, pulling open the front door only to be met with some dude who he vaguely recognized as being one of Sarah’s slightly less stuck up Kook friends—Preston who the fuck knows what. Probably some fancy ass last name like Berkeshire. Harrington. Vanderbilt. Something hyphenated, or with a Jr. or II tacked on the end of it. 

Preston something or other looked a bit surprised to see him standing on the other side of the door but recovered quickly, guy nodding at him suavely. “Hey man. Is Y/N here?” 

“She’s almost ready.” JJ replied, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms. Preston nodded again, shifting on his feet. He looked nervous, JJ noticed. Good. Then he noticed the bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand. “Carnations, huh?” 

“Yeah, you think she’ll like them?” He straightened the cellophane surrounding them, tucking a stray leaf back into the bunch. 

“Oh, totally.” JJ was being one hundred percent sarcastic, but Preston didn’t know that. If he really knew you at all, he would know that you hated carnations. That you thought they were tacky and too bright. And if JJ wanted to be a good guy, he’d tell Preston before he made the wrong impression on you. But he wasn’t going to. He knew he probably should, but he wasn’t going to. Call him selfish. “So tell me, Preston, what’s the agenda for tonight? Where are y’all going?” 

“Uh, nowhere special. Dinner at that new bistro on Main and maybe a walk around town afterward.” Preston chuckled awkwardly, licking his lips. 

Damn it. That was actually a really good date idea. 

“Preston, hi!” You interjected breathlessly, rushing past JJ to give the other boy a brief hug. “Sorry to keep you waiting, I hope this one didn’t tell you too many embarrassing stories about me.” 

“I would never.” JJ mock gasped, pressing a hand against his chest. 

“Yes, you would.” 

“Alright, maybe I would.” He shrugged. “Anyways, whatever! Get outta here, kids, go have fun. Not too much fun though, Preston my man! No funny business, have her home by eleven, yadda yadda.” 

“Bye, J. Try not to burn down the house while I’m gone.” 

“I’ll try my best.” He saluted you, ignoring the warmth in his chest when you rolled your eyes playfully at him. Then you were gone, leaving JJ alone. 

He did admit, he worked himself up a little too much waiting for you to come home. Maybe he almost paced a hole in the floor just thinking about what could happen if this date actually went well. He could see it now, ten, fifteen years into the future—you were a Figure 8 trophy wife with two kids who looked annoyingly just like Preston, and JJ was still here on the southside, hopelessly in love with his happily married, Kook-converted best friend. 

Okay, maybe he was overreacting a little bit, but he couldn’t help it. Nothing he did seemed to quell the thoughts ping-ponging around in his brain; all he could do was wait for you to come home and tell him everything, like you always did. 

-------

He straightened up the second he heard your key twisting in the lock, swinging his legs down to the floor from where they’d previously been hooked over the back of the sofa. Play it cool, bro. 

“That’s it!” You huffed, throwing open the front door and traipsing inside, kicking off your shoes before flopping down next to him rather dramatically. “I’m calling it now! I’m never gonna find anyone!” 

JJ thumped your forehead from where your head had landed in his lap upon landing. “I take it the date didn’t go well?”

“That would be the understatement of a century.” 

“Well, I didn’t like him anyways, so.” You squinted up at him, frowning. “What? He got you carnations, Y/N. You hate carnations.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t hate Preston. He seemed nice, but the whole night, he was just…off, I dunno.” You sighed, waving a vague hand. “It was weird, I saw him this morning and he said he was excited, but when he came here it was like his whole vibe changed.” Part of that was probably his interaction with JJ, but the blond boy held his tongue. You sat up, angling yourself to face him with furrowed brows. “What did you say to him when he got here earlier?”

“Me? I didn’t say shit, I was just sussin’ him out. Simply exercising my duty as best friend.” 

“Bullshit, you were probably sabotaging me!” Grabbing a pillow, you shoved your face into it, letting out a strangled groan. JJ patted your leg soothingly (he hoped), lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s whatever though. I don’t care anymore. I’m just never gonna find love in this lifetime.” 

“Hey, don’t say that,” He chided, easing the pillow away from your face. “That’s not true. You’ll find love.” With me, he wanted to add. He didn’t. 

“Thanks, J. But I don’t…I really don’t know anymore. Maybe I’m being dramatic, but it just feels like everytime I think ‘wow, this could be the time’, it just doesn’t work out.” You mumbled, picking at a loose thread at the hem of your shirt. “Makes me think that maybe it’s me, maybe I’m just unlovable.” 

And that—you thinking that you were unlovable when JJ had loved you all his life—that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

“I love you.” He blurted, brows furrowing. 

Your breath caught in your chest, and you hesitated a second. “You do?” 

“Fuck—yeah. Yeah, I do. ‘Course I do.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his already unruly hair, causing it to spring back in every which way. “How could I not?” 

“Since when?” 

“Are you kidding me? Since forever, Y/N. Honestly, probably since the first day we met, back when we were what, seven? You told me you liked my hair. Said it reminded you of gold, then you shared your fruit snacks with me. And that,” JJ chuckled, shaking his head, “that stuck with me, ever since then.” 

“I remember.” You said softly, the memory bringing a small smile to your face. You’d met JJ on the first day of second grade, and it seemed like you’d just been attached at the hip ever since. He knew everything about you, you knew everything about him—except for the fact that he’d been in love with you ever since.

So really, maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

“I can see the gears turning in your head right now.” He bumped his knuckles against your knee, ducking to meet your gaze. “You don’t have to say anything right now, I know it’s—it’s probably hard to take in. But it’s the truth. You were never unloveable, Y/N, you’re fucking perfect. You just…hadn’t found the right guy to love yet. And it might not be me, but I just needed you to know that you’re not doing anything wrong. Those guys are just fucking stupid if they didn’t see what I see in you. What I’ve always seen.”

You didn’t respond, instead just leaning forward and taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips against his, kissing him before you chickened out. If JJ was surprised he masked it well, only taking less than a beat to react. He reached out blindly, hands finding your waist to pull you onto his lap as he kissed you back eagerly. 

“That was—what was that?” He breathed, pink lips parted and now shiny with your lipgloss, eyes bluer than the summer sky gazing wide right at you. 

“Wanted to see if it felt right.” You whispered.

His chest rose and fell, pushing against yours with every deep breath he took in an attempt to keep calm despite his electric nerves. “And did it?” 

“It did.” You confirmed with a nod, a small grin stretching your lips. 

Everything was making sense now, like pieces slotting into a lifelong puzzle. The reason you were having such a hard time finding someone to love and someone to love you was because the person you needed and didn’t realize you wanted had been right in front of you for years, and you’d been too blind to see it all this time. But you saw it now. 

You saw JJ now, and nothing had been clearer. 

“I love you, J.” 

JJ’s eyes fluttered shut almost blissfully, head lolling back against the couch cushions. “Shit, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.” He gave your waist a quick squeeze before letting his hand come up to give himself a light slap on the cheek. 

“What’re you doing?” You giggled, tugging his hand away from his face. 

“Making sure this isn’t another one of my dreams.” 

Your brows lifted teasingly. “You dream about me?” 

“All the fucking time, sweetheart.” His fingers traced the inside of your wrist, basking in the feeling of your soft skin warm against his, the view of you sitting on top of him looking like the epitome of beauty. He’d imagined this moment countless times, but never once did he think it would ever become a reality. 

“And how do those dreams usually end?” 

JJ smirked, eyes now gleaming with mischief. “You want me to show you?”

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 14 - Kevin Bacon

Y'all talk about space dongs, before being rudely interrupted.

On AO3.

Your mouth tastes real weird when you wake up. And you’re more tired than you were when you went to sleep. Like that line from that Bilbo Baggins guy about being butter scraped too thin.

You lie on your stomach, numbed arm beneath your cheek (all of it crusted in drool), and the other arm twisted up all weird beneath you.

“Mgrghngh,” you say as you roll to your side.

You’re more tired than you was when Astarion pulled you outta the river he left you to drown in.

A voice lilts all pretty nearby. Speaking of. The man (elf vampire) sits a few feet away, needle in hand, working surprisingly quickly for a man with no sight.

Oh fuck. You lost your whole, entire corn-husking mind last night. And he fucking heard you do it.

“’M good,” you manage and reach for your bag for a dirt potion.

 And then wait for him to respond. Because he’s the type of asshole that relishes in the kind of barbed commentary that comes from watching somebody lose their whole corn-husking mind. Only he sits quiet. Sews a couple more stitches before tying off his work and snipping the thread with his teeth.

It’s your pants (trousers). He’s slit the sides and rigged them up with leather cording. It’s a real Mad Max kinda biker look, but it’s so much better then running around a refrigerator cave in a shirt and a fucking breechcloth (that shit was for summertime in fucking North Carolina, goddamnit).

“Try these on,” he says and holds it out. His back is mostly to you.

You stand all awkward. One knee cracks. And you shuffle over as pins and needles sweep up and down both your arms. Astarion sits all placid, tucking his needle into…is that a sewing kit? Man’s got a sewing kit? It even kinda looks like a goddamn cookie tin.

You slip one leg through, then the other. Gotta fiddle with them laces, and in the end, they really are side chaps.

“These’re great,” you say. You can even wiggle around without it pinching nowhere. It’s a little loose in the crotch, but that don’t even matter. Only thing it don’t got is pockets.

“I have something else,” he says. And reaches into his back and pulls out…

“Panties,” you say, in fucking Chondathan (at least he told you that’s what it was, this time).

He grins. “Well done. Now, I only had enough material for three, and you’ll need to belt them, but it should be more comfortable than stuffing that bundle into your trousers.”

That sounds like an innuendo. Shit, man made you panties. It’s the most weirdly personal gift you ever got in your whole life.

Great timing, too, if the general achiness curling low in your gut is any indication. Bitch is late. Not surprising, given all the fuck shit that’s happened. But still. She was gonna show up at some point.

What he made is kinda like ancient Roman bikini bottoms (which was a thing). Ties on each side and still a little baggy, but weird, old-fashioned granny panties is still panties that you didn’t have a minute ago.

You consider tapping his shoulder and thanking the man. Wonder briefly at how you’re more comfortable in your own head about like, physical affection with everyone else (imagining swooning against Karlach and frenching Shadowheart when she closes gashes you didn’t even notice). But when it comes to him, you just…can’t. Can’t even entertain the idea of joke kissing him, not even in your own head. It feels…weird. Like standing on the edge of a cliff.

“I did make a few hasty modifications,” he says as you start to unlace them trousers so you can slip on the panties. Which is when you catch his smirk. You seen that smirk before. That one’s goblin shit, right there.

“What did you do?” you say.

He waves a hand. “It’s merely cosmetic. And not my finest work.”

Did he leave one of them panties crotchless or something? Rig it to rip up the—

Nope. They’re all solid enough. And decorated with a simple piece of sloppy embroidery. Heat rushes up your face and you almost cringe away, until you realize that he wasn’t putting a dong on each one, but what you think is supposed to be a mushroom.

Because he’s a fucking goblin and is incapable of passing up an opportunity to poke at you.

“Cute,” you say.

“Aren’t they just?” He grins wide enough to show off his fangs. “I felt we should commemorate your first brush with hallucinogenics, darling. Consider it a souvenir.”

“And you thought the best thing for that was stitching them into my new drawers.”

“I had to contribute something.”

You stare at him for a long moment.

This all reeks of guilt. The whole “cutting you loose” thing. And goddamnit, it’s working. You still ain’t sure what you should be feeling about that. What the just thing is. Part of you thinks you should be pissed. Any maybe you are? But he’s also just…it’s difficult. It was a shit decision. Making it would have been a shit decision either way. And what saved you wasn’t him or even you; it was your bag getting caught up in some rocks. Ones you might not have come near if he hadn’t cut that rope. And then you woulda drowned for sure and been a bare-assed ringwraith in a fucking cave forever.

This might be him manipulating you. Making sure he does nice things so you don’t get mad—cause he ain’t fessed up on it. You noticed that.

Then again, he was acting all weird about this whole thing even before that cavern, when he realized he couldn’t see and you realized he’d have to rely on you. He really doesn’t like owing people.

What a fuck shit mess.

“Everything all right?” he says because you been quiet for a solid moment.

You wriggle back outta them trousers, pluck them up. Eyeball the tent. “I’m gonna go get changed, and then what’s say we get the hell outta here?”

***

You got three dirt potions left. You been down here, on y’all’s own for about three days already, you think. You should start rationing the fuckers. When you tell Astarion your plan, he starts speaking Chondathan at you. And he’s somehow even more pedantic about it than Gale makes you repeat yourself over and over until he’s satisfied with your inflection (fucking language rolls its goddamned r’s, which you was never good at).

After thirty minutes of you spitting all down your chin like a dumbass, he finally lets up.

He’s so quiet behind you, after that. Man’s got his pickup lines; can turn on the sleaze in less than a second. But casual conversation that ain’t complaining about something or imagining killing something or someone?

“So,” you say. Go for the tried and true, “You got any hobbies?”

“What, aside from murder and picking locks?”

Jesus, he ain’t never gonna let that go.

“Yeah,” you say.

A long pause. The cavern y’all are in now is lit up a little by them mushrooms. Y’all skirt around another bigass crystal somehow lit up from within. Probably some bullshit magic. It’d all be pretty if it wasn’t a giant cavern filled with fuck-knows-what hiding in the deep dark between the glowing fungi.

“No, not really,” Astarion says.

It takes you a second to connect it back to your last question.

“Huh,” you say. “That sewing was damn good for a man that can’t see. Better than most who can, I reckon. A fuck of a lot better’n what I can manage.”

“Considering your solution was to simply wrap a cloth around yourself, that’s not really high praise, darling.”

“Take the fucking compliment,” you say. “It’s good work. Even if them mushrooms look like dicks.”

His footsteps fucking trip. He sputters. “Excuse me? They look like what?”

“It ain’t really your fault. Technically, that’s what all mushroom is, anyway: space cocks.”

He makes a kinda muffled “ugh” sound.

And then a thought hits you. “Does your language have different words for genitals depending on the vulgarity? Is it even a vulgarity to y’all?”

“I…yes, actually.”

And the word he used translated to “cock.” Possibly the most vulgar, but also the least casual. Interesting. You do notice he don’t actually use hard swears (or whatever translates to hard swears). Combined with his fancy pants accent, you wonder what he was before that whole fuckface turning him thing.

“You know,” he says. “I didn’t expect this sort of conversation out of you. Though you do have a fine phallus of your own, so color me wrong.”

“Back to them space cocks,” you say, in an attempt to cut him off before the teasing can creep back in. It ain’t fucking weird having a goddamn sex toy. You’re a grown ass fucking adult.

“Space cocks. Do tell.” He literally purrs the last part of that. If y’all wasn’t walking, you’re sure he’d prop his chin up on one hand.

“Pretty sure I was babbling about them last night. But the parts we see, the parts that grow above ground? That’s just the reproductive parts of the organism it grows from. Which I always thought was funny since a lot of them look pretty phallus-like. When they ain’t being a cosmic horror and all.”

“And this amuses you, being a connoisseur of cocks, does it?”

Ooh, he’s digging.

“I seen enough,” you say. You ain’t folding that fucking easy.

“Forgive me darling, is there a point to this topic of conversation, or did you just really want to talk about cocks?”

“I want to talk about how weird mycelium are. You don’t need to—”

The rope tugs on your waist and you turn. He’s stopped. Grin dropped. Eyes open and unfocused, staring hard out into the darkness.

“Do you hear that?” he says.

You do not. There’s the hollow echo of the huge fucking chamber, your own breathing, and y’all’s footsteps crunching about in what has turned into dirt (must be the mushroom’s doing).

But his head tilts, and you know he’s tracking something. Intently. And the shadows around y’all become real dark.

“What is it?” you say as quiet as you can.

He don’t answer. Just frowns. Head turns this way and that, eyes darting around. Until his frown deepens. And the man looks down.

“There’s something beneath us,” he says.

A hidden chamber full of albino orc people your brain throws at you because it’s a motherfucker.

Then Astarion’s face goes blank in a distinctive way that opens ever, single floodgate of adrenaline you got into your circulatory system.

“It’s coming up beneath us,” he says, right as y’all both reach for each other’s hands and you holler, “Run!”

You catch the sound, now. Thunder shimmies up your shins through the thin soles of your stolen boots. With a couple steps, the ground shakes so bad you stumble. Astarion’s iron grip is the only thing that wrenches you back up.

“There’s a rock ahead,” you pant. Your throat already burns. “Next to a cliff. Mushroom…big’un. Growing on the side.”

The two of you stumble sprint over. Hit the edge of the rock right as the ground six inches from your heel erupts in a spray of dirt that knocks you to your knees.

Astarion manages to keep his feet. Once again hauls you scrambling up to the top of the stone as something roars behind you.

You don’t look. All effort is focused on the edge of the rock and the leap you’ll need.

“Three foot gap!” you gasp. “Plenty wide—”

“I can’t—” Astarion starts.

And you shove aside all your cringing and grab the man’s shoulders and point him in the direction he needs to go. But it’d be terrifying to leap without seeing. You remember the cavern where he found you, all the times he touched something. He needs guidance.

“Gimme the stick,” you say as a roar rumbles the air so hard your ribs rattle. You finally glance back.

Something big with a huge fucking mouth.

You barely fumble the stick, barely manage not to drop it. Skirt around Astarion. Judge the distance and leap. And it’s only once you’re airborne that you wonder if that bigass shroom can take your weight or if it’ll snap clean off the cliff like a rotten tree branch.

You land hard enough to go down to one knee. The shroom is squishy, yet firm enough that it only shivers under your weight like a hard mattress.

“Eleanor?” Astarion says, voice sharp.

You whack the cliff with your stick, at foot level, just beside you. His face snaps to that direction.

“Three feet! Here!”

He gives a single nod, waits for you to tap again—the thing below roar and its bulk moves up the rock oh fuck.

Astarion jumps. Lands right next to that sound, and you reach out to steady him and pull him further onto the shroom. Right as the big fucking monster comes bounding up the rock after him. You all but drag the both of you back, fall on your ass (Astarion stumbles over you) and scoot further away.

Up until your hand hits the edge of your little platform.

“Fuck oh fuck fuck.”

Somehow, it did not occur to you that the fucking ground monster might, like, climb.

Now you’re gonna die. Torn apart by a fucking armored hippopotamus-mouthed fucking tank of a thing that snarls and snaps…from its perch on the rock. Three feet of air between y’all.

Astarion claws into your shoulder. “What’s it doing?”

Big fucking monster makes a low sound. Paws at the edge of the rock. Then its head twists left, then right. It’s got little, beady motherfucking shark eyes on either side of what’s actually a massive, fuck off beak. It leans forward, one stubby foot reaching…

But then it pulls back. Makes that sound again. Leans real far forward to…nibble at the edge of y’all’s shroom and then make what you can only describe as a disgusted sound.

“Well?” Astarion says.

“I…” you say. Watch the thing growl and snuffle around. “I think it’s afraid of the mushroom.”

“What? What is it?”

“The fuck am I supposed to know?”

And the blind man rolls his fucking eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re a yokel from another plane. You’re sure it’s not about to pounce on us?”

It fucking stares at you, is what it does. Stands motionless, maybe a total of eight feet away, just fucking staring with its dead eyes.

Every muscle in your body goes limp and you almost swoon.

“I think we should be quiet,” you whisper.

To his credit, Astarion frowns, but crouches down to whisper back, “What does it look like?”

Stumpy legs, thick body, all of it plated in some armor looking hide. Big bitch has a face halfway between a shark and an African hornbill. All of it about the size of a rhino.

Which you tell him, leaving out the animal names. And to which he swears.

“You’re of no help, dear,” he says.

“You fucking asked me—” And cut off as the birdshark snorts. Like a cat watching a squirrel and dreaming of murdering the ever-loving shit outta it.

“We should stop talking,” you say.

“And what would you,” he starts. Seems to reconsider. Then lowers himself to sitting pressed against you. You manage to contain your fidget away. Mostly. And you both settle in for the worst staring contest of your life.

***

Birdshark gets bored after what has to be an hour. Huffs and moans, and then ponderously half slides back down to the ground. It gives you another glare. Then turns nose down, makes a chuffing sound, and all them armor plates fucking buzz and the big bitch slides into the dirt like it’s a fucking cow pond.

“What was that?” Astarion whispers.

The ground don’t move again. The buzzing stops. The whole cave falls silent.

“It went back underground,” you say.

Then Astarion starts to stand. “Well then, we’d beset get out of here before the beastie changes its mind.”

But you’re still staring at the dirt. You grab the bottom of his leather armor to stay him. “Did you hear it leave?”

The man pauses a long moment. Then sinks back down, silent as a whisper. “No.”

It hunts from underground, don’t it. It’s got eyes, and it for sure saw you, but sound seemed to really set it off. And the fucker is down there, buried, and it’s mcfucking waiting for you, ain’t it.

“It’s fucking Tremors rules,” you say. “Fuck me.”

Astarion shifts. You turn and catch the most baffled expression on him.

“It’s a story,” you say. “Monsters show up in a desert town. Big worm things. Hunt from underground. We can’t get on soft ground without it knowing and coming up right between our legs, I bet.”

You didn’t even know the man could get any paler. Granted, it’s like the difference between eggshell and dairy cream at some fucking hardware store paint aisle, and you can only tell the difference by holding up them swatches next to each other under the glare of a noon day sun. But it’s still impressive for a guy whose complexion can, at best, be charitably described as corpseriffic.

“Perhaps your people’s stories aren’t as fictional as you think,” he says.

Which one: they got them the concept of fiction vs. non-fiction and you got to learn how to fucking read here, hot damn, and two:

“I’m really starting to wonder,” you say.

So tremors rules. Fucking waiting at the base of that rock. You scan around the expanse of gloom and flat ground. Them other mushrooms is too high to climb, and you ain’t putting it past birdshark down there to uproot the damned thing and bite y’all’s legs off when it topples over.

But then, off in the distance, the color of darkness changes. You can barely see it (can only see it by looking around it), but there’s a slash of black about a hundred feet to the right. Beyond that, the soft glow of more magic cave mushrooms, all about level with the floor here.

“I think that might be a crevasse to the right,” you say. Scan it again to try to tell if it’s maybe just a ditch. No, no, you think the light reflects off stone on the other side, like a sheer cliff. Goddamn, it’s too dark. Fucking caves.

“What of it?” Astarion says.

Birdshark didn’t wanna leave that rock. It was only a short hop to get to y’all’s tender ass meat, but it seemed nervous. It would make sense for a subterranean predator to be skittish of open air.

“I don’t think it likes being away from the ground,” you say.

You can feel the man lift an eyebrow.

“Or we can stay here until I starve to death. You can feed on me if that happens, and good luck after that.”

For just a second, he looks at you like you done slapped him with a trout. Then he’s back to his usual sass and an eyeroll.

“Fine,” he says. “We’ll have to run for it. I can’t see, and I’m rather sure it’s faster than the both of us. What’s your plan for that, darling?”

You think back to that movie, and remember some of the goodies y’all still got left over from that goblin camp that you are one hundred percent sure Astarion commandeered.

“You still got them bags of spark powder?” you say.

[emchant3d]

Final part of Eddie forgetting about Valentine's day!! Part 1 Part 2

Thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this, I hope the ending does it justice!

Eddie doesn’t know how fast he drives, just that he gets to Steve’s place in record time. The big house is quiet, Steve’s car the only one on the driveway.

All the lights are off, and yeah, it’s kind of late, but Steve is almost always up later than this. But even his bedroom window is cast in shadow, and something about it makes Eddie’s heart twist in his chest. 

He slams the van door behind himself and runs up the walkway, almost colliding with the front door when he reaches it. He beats on it, knocking hard enough that he knows the sound will echo through the empty house and up those grand stairs and right into Steve’s room, and he prays to anything that’s listening that Steve will come down and meet him.

“Steve!” he yells, like it isn’t late as fuck and Steve doesn’t have neighbors. “Stevie, baby, come on!” 

He feels frantic, like he’s going to die if Steve doesn’t get this door open in the next ten seconds. 

“STEVE,” he shouts again, slamming his fist into the door, right before it’s ripped open in front of him and he almost goes ass over teakettle through the doorway.

“Eddie, what the fuck?” Steve asks, frantic as he catches Eddie with a hand around his bicep, pulling him into the house and closing the door behind them. He flicks the locks one-handed because the other is holding the nail bat in the kind of absent grip that tells Eddie he wasn’t sure he’d really need it, but he was going to be prepared just in case. “What’s going on?”

“Why do you have the bat?” Eddie asks, like that’s what he should be focusing on, and Steve gives him a bewildered look.

“You’re knocking my door down in the middle of the night, why wouldn’t I have the bat?” And yeah, okay, fair, but Steve sets the thing down next to the front door and Eddie closes the distance between them. “I need to get you a key, that way next time you show up outta nowhere you don’t wake the whole neighborhood - uh–” Eddie takes Steve’s upper arms in a tight grip, interrupting him. “Eds?” Steve asks, looking at him, and shit, Steve looks too fucking cute when he’s confused. His thick brows are furrowed, lips turned down, big eyes all wide - and that’s when Eddie notices how red they look.

Bloodshot, a little swollen, like Steve’s been rubbing at them in that harsh way he does. He hates crying, feels humiliated when it happens, and Eddie’s been a witness more than once to the way he’ll bury his fingers in his eyes like they’ve personally offended him.

He’s pale, a little shaky, now that Eddie’s really looking, lips bitten red and sore.

He doesn't need to ask what's wrong. He's uncomfortably, acutely aware of what's wrong. Instead, he reaches up, laying his hand along Steve's jaw to smooth his thumb over his cheek. 

"Sweetheart," he says, and Steve glances away, gaze avoiding Eddie's. "I'm so sorry."

“Skip what?” This isn’t what he expected at all. He thought he’d get here and Steve would be angry, would be yelling. He thought he’d get chewed out, possibly broken up with, was catastrophizing the whole way here.

"For what?" Steve’s trying to keep his voice light, trying to keep it casual, but he reaches up and wraps his hand around Eddie's wrist, thumb pressing at his pulse point like it's his own lifeline.

"Honey, I know what I did now. We don't have to act like I didn't royally fuck up Valentine's day." Steve winces.

"Oh god," he mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face roughly. He paces a few steps away, looking absolutely mortified. "I was really hoping we could skip this." Eddie follows him with his eyes, lost.

“The part where you realize and we, like, talk it out.” Steve gestures between the two of them. “We don’t need to do this. It’s not a big deal.” He says it like he’s repeating something he’s said before, and Eddie’s heart sinks, wondering how often Steve has told himself that very sentence tonight.

“It is a big deal,” Eddie says cautiously. Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie cuts him off. “You’ve been miserable for days, Steve, that’s a big deal.” Steve actually rolls his eyes, and Eddie barely bites his tongue.

“We can just move past this, though,” Steve insists, and Eddie approaches him slowly, like a spooked animal. Steve’s shoulders jump to his ears, but he doesn’t bolt away, and Eddie takes that as a win.

“What if I don’t want to move past it?” he asks, and Steve flushes an embarrassed pink, eyes darting around like he’s looking for an escape route. 

He sniffles, raises his hand to pinch his nose, and mumbles, “Please,” halting and quiet, “let’s just let it go.”

“But why?”  Eddie asks, and Steve makes an angry little sound.

“Cause it doesn’t matter!” he snaps. Eddie reaches out then, snagging Steve’s hand and pulling him in close. 

Steve fights him for two seconds before suddenly slumping against him, and Eddie sighs in relief, wrapping his arms around his baby and holding him tight. Steve gives a shuddery little breath, and Eddie lets him hide his face in his shoulder, turning his head to kiss his temple.

“It does matter,” he says fiercely. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Steve makes a quiet, protesting sound, and Eddie shushes him. “Let me apologize to you, you absolute brat,” he says, and Steve snorts a little laugh. “I’m gonna make it up to you,” Eddie promises. “I mean it. And I’m never going to forget about it again, I fucking swear, okay? I’m gonna get February 14th tattooed on my fucking face, I swear to God.” Steve finally laughs, a breathless, squeaky little thing, and Eddie smiles, pulling back. 

“Please don’t tattoo your face,” Steve mumbles, looking at Eddie with a crooked little grin. The expression reaches his eyes for the first time in days, and something in Eddie unwinds at the sight. 

“What, you don’t want me to ruin the moneymaker, huh?” he asks, and Steve laughs again, rolling his eyes. There’s some levity in the air, and finally, the frantic pace of Eddie’s heart slows. "Sweetheart," he says softly, because this is important, because this is on him and no one else but he can't not ask,  gentle and imploring and cupping Steve's flushed cheek to trace the shine of pink on his skin, "why didn't you say anything?" Steve's eyes flick away from his.

"It's stupid," he says, and Eddie frowns.

"What is?" And just like that Steve’s back to being annoyed, shifting in Eddie’s hold. He loosens his arms, watching as Steve starts pacing again. He walks closer, steadily closing the distance as Steve rambles.

"Being this upset! It's just - it's just a stupid day, right, like, we don't need a particular day to show that we love each other, it's commercialized and overdone and dramatic and it's stupid to be upset that you forgot one little day when objectively you're, like, fantastic. So I didn't want to say anything because it's dumb to be so worked up and make a big deal out of it and I need to just get over it--"

Eddie kisses him quiet. Maybe it's rude, but he knows when Steve gets going like this, works himself up, he'll talk in circles for ages. It's a mostly-endearing quality he's picked up from Robin, but Eddie knows sometimes Steve needs him to catch him before he spirals too far.

"No," he murmurs softly in the space between them when they part, lips still brushing one another's. "You do not need to just get over it." Because Eddie gets it, now.

Yeah, it's about the holiday. Steve is upset and hurt and Eddie feels like a total fucking asshole, and he's going to grovel for the rest of his life if that's what it takes. But this isn't just about Valentine's day.

"I'm being ridiculous," Steve insists. Eddie shakes his head, and Steve makes a frustrated sound. "I am. It is. It's stupid. I'm - I'm stupid–”

"Hey," Eddie says, and it's a little sharper than he means, but it works because Steve goes quiet, and the look he gives Eddie about breaks his heart all over again.

It's not about Valentine's day.

Steve is so, so used to not being taken seriously. To being dismissed. To being told to just get over it when he's upset, to being minimized, to the things that matter to him being framed as dumb or unimportant.

As stupid.

He's the strong one. The tank, made to take the hits and keep moving. He shouldn't have wants or desires. He's the caretaker, makes sure everyone is looked after, ensures they have anything they could ever want, goes out of his way to get it for them.

And he's shit at doing the same for himself.

"It's just a stupid day," Steve insists, but his eyes are wet and his voice is catching and he sniffles.

"Oh, honey," Eddie whispers, and Steve cracks, tears spilling over the edges of his red eyes and running down his pretty face. “Oh, sweetheart, come here. I’ve got you.”

They end up on the couch, Eddie holding Steve tight and whispering his apologies into his hair as his baby clings to him. 

“It’s not stupid,” he tells him softly. “You aren’t stupid. You’re allowed to want things, Stevie. You’re allowed to expect these things. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry I didn’t give you what you deserve.” He repeats his promises and doesn’t let the guilt eat him alive because he might not have been there when Steve wanted him, but he’s here now, and that has to count for something, he knows it does.

He’s here holding this beautiful boy as he cries and he dries his face with the soft sleeves of his sweater, whispering to him that he loves him, that he’s here, that he’ll make it better.

And Steve believes him, thank fucking God. Steve trusts in him, is looking at him with soft, hooded eyes, is pressing his mouth to Eddie’s and nipping at his lips and clinging to him. He’s letting Eddie strip him bare, letting him press him into the couch, letting him make love to him until he’s crying for an entirely different reason, clutching at Eddie’s back and gasping his pleasure into his throat. 

And that weekend Eddie brings his baby flowers, a stuffed bear, a necklace with a delicate silver chain and a small E hanging from it to join with the guitar pick that Steve has long ago claimed. He plays him the song he’d written for him, gives him the cherry chocolates, tells him over and over how much he loves him, and shows him in every way he can think of.

And through it all Steve keeps that sweet smile, and Eddie just knows he’s going to be spending the rest of his life keeping that look on his baby’s face.

Tag list! I'm very sorry if I've missed anyone!

 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zerokrox-blog @m-owo-n @honhonbaguettegofuckyourself @bejeweledbaby @snapshotmaestro @ineffablecolors @uwujinniee @munsonsduchess @avacrebs @estrellami-1 @huskysarelife @afewproblems @messrs-weasley @bitchysunflower @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nvybloo @unclewaynemunson @valecitainwonderland @megaweird-2-point-0 @resident-gay-bitch @disasterlia @iwouldsail @tinynebula @ilsewrites @umjamlam @booksandsience @xtkxkrzrizir @trikigirl271 @mistlafey @bornonthesavage @baron-zemo-trash @beckkthewreck @a-random-nerd @bela-valdis @goodolefashionedloverboi @em9515 @newtstabber @callmesirkay @ohwelsh

[stnaf-vn]

This unintentionally got darker as I wrote it

AU where Keagan didn't crash and ended up safe and not having his life ruined BUT:

SH still dumps him, and now everytime he goes out, there's somehow, always, and i mean always, a motorcycle helmet somewhere.

"Walks out his front door?" There's a helmet on his doorstep

"Goes shopping?" There's a helmet on the hood of his car

"Goes to shower after a long day of ominous helmets?" A fucking helmet is sitting next to his, for some fucking reason, empty bottles of soap that he just bought last week

He initially he was just pissed off and irritated about it, since he thought it was Friend being petty and fucking with him. He doesn't bother confronting him cuz 1.) at least hes not trying to crash his fucking car this time and 2.) He really can't prove it's him, and the cops will probably think he's a fucking lunatic 3.) If Friend really is breaking into his house just to put a helmet there, hes not gonna piss off the man who knows where and when he sleeps

But then the helmets start showing up when it couldn't have been him. He went to the kitchen to grab a snack, and there was another goddamn helmet there, but it couldn't have been Friend, cuz he just saw you livestreaming some event with him a few minutes ago, and his house is nowhere close enough to where it's happening for Friend to pull that off, even with the motorcycle.

Now he's less annoyed and more legitimately frightened, it can't be Friend doing it, and his buddies wouldn't do this kinda shit as a prank, not for this long at least. So who the fucks been in his house?

Now he's paranoid. When he thought it was Friend, he was able to ignore it, and bare with it since he figured Friend would get bored eventually.

But now? Now he's fucking terrified. If it was Friend, then yeah, its still someone breaking into his house, but at least he was probably just doing it to fuck with him, at least it was still relatively harmless, a way to terrorize Keagan for fucking up that night. He could handle that, it was creepy, but at least he didn't have to worry about getting murdered.

But if it wasn't Friend, then someone else wanted to scare him, someone else knew about what happened, and they wanted to make him squirm.

They were punishing him.

At least that's what he thought. Or more accurately, what he was hoping.

Cuz there's no way for him to know, now is there?

Friend would've had a reason, a good one too, honestly

But whoever's doing this isn't him, and now Keagan doesn't know if they'll stop with just the helmets, or why they're using the helmets to begin with.

He doesn't know what they can do

What they want to do

What they will do

And it scares him, thinking that sooner or later, he may find out exactly what they want from him

It turns out Friend just has his other yan buddies doin it to scare the everloving shit outta Keagan for what he did, they're not gonna actually hurt him, but they're gonna send his ass to a therapist

i'm fucking cry-laughing at the thought of fucking either @restartheartvn's Ezra or @campwillowpeak's Harper just fucking moving the helmet around while Keagan has a mental breakdown

[allzelemonz]

The O’Driscoll Golden Boy: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader is referred to as ‘feller’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, murder, implied mutilation, references to castration Warnings: Power dynamics, power imbalance, oral sex, face fucking, deep throating, praise, abuse/unhealthy relationship, marking, possessive behavior, outdoor sex, semi-public sex, facial, humiliation, slight aftercare, hints of fluff if you really squint, homophobia, period-typical heavy homophobia Summary: Colm’s golden boy made a little mistake. The boss doesn’t like that.

Every job always goes smoothly. Every job. Not once have you ever messed up. Not like this. Riding with the O’Driscolls has always been fun so long as Colm is pleased, and Colm is always pleased with you. Pleased enough to drag you into his bed and show you what being the golden boy really means. But tonight… tonight you won’t even be making it back to camp, let alone your boss’s cabin and that big warm bed he’s had these past few weeks.

No, tonight you got caught.

Frankly you should consider yourself very lucky to be breathing.

Sheriff nearly broke your arm hog tying you though, probably shouldn’t be happy about that. He acts like he’s some god when he and his deputies get you in a cell. Something about a bounty having just been raised. Your head’s too fogged from getting hit and your arm hurts far too much to care anyway. Last poster you saw had upwards of a thousand, but that was about a big job further out West. Who knows which state you’re even in at this rate.

Then one of them says it. “Colm O’Driscoll’s golden boy!”

It’s a sneer, mocking and provoking, as they all turn to look at you. You’ve sat down on the floor of the cell, nowhere else to sit and your feet and legs are tired from running. You almost want to stand just so they’re not looking down on you, but in the end you find yourself much too tired to care.

“Should hang ‘em ourselves.” One of the deputies says. “Heard he’s done some sick shit.”

Of course you have. Colm asked you to after all. That’s your job. Whatever Colm wants.

Another deputy pulls a paper from the wall, tossing it on the table and letting it glide and spin. Your bounty poster, you assume. Terrible drawings really, they always are. It frankly surprises you anyone ever gets found.

“Wanted for murder, horse theft…”

You tune out the list of crimes, knowing all of them won’t even be listed on the little space. If they actually wrote everything out there wouldn’t be much room left to put your name and bounty, let alone a picture. It does leave out a lot of details though, important details in your opinion.

“He the one what did those robberies up along the forest, killed those families?”

Yes. You are. They had money, more than they needed. At first you asked nicely, then you didn’t. Business is business and it got you a nice reward from your boss.

“Couple damn orphans came outta that string.”

They’re fine. You even took them into town and gave them some bread and cheese. Boys wanted to shoot them too, you’re a saint in comparison.

“An’ he’s runnin’ with Colm O’Driscoll.” One of them glares at you. “Bet some a’ his charges could trickle down.”

Sure they could. You’ve helped Colm with plenty of things you’ve never seen yourself charged with. Not that you want to recall any of that or have it formally charged. You only kept your mouth shut about it all because you’re smart enough to be deadly loyal when it comes to Colm. You’d never say no to his orders or his requests. That would be stupid.

“I heard he got sodomy in the next state over too.”

Oh, that was a fun clash with the law. Colm fucking you in a back alley in some big city only for a lawman to find you, add charges for you but not Colm. Bullshit really, but it was such a good time that you recall it with fondness. You got rewarded for getting away when you got back to camp after all.

“Love ta see ‘em hang.”

If it would get them to shut up, you might opt for it. You’re starting to get a headache from all the hitting and incessant discussion of your crimes. Your guns aren’t that far away. If they just happened to drink a little more of that whiskey they pulled out to celebrate, got nice and distracted, you might be able to swipe them.

“It’s a three-thousand dollar bounty.” The sheriff snaps. “We’re takin’ ‘em ta the city.”

A trip to the city, a poorly guarded jail car, easy target. If not that, then easy lock picking. But you know the boys that got away will run back to camp with their tails between their legs, tell Colm all that happened, and seeing as Colm had said plenty of dirty things in your ear before you left, he will be a little upset that you didn’t come back like you always do. Cash in hand, happy to take the reward Colm is so desperate to give you. You used to think that’s all it was, the boss giving his best, his golden boy, a reward for doing well on a job. But Colm slips up in his facade sometimes, enough to see he doesn’t just want to fuck his golden boy.

There have been times where you’ve woken up, pretended to sleep, while Colm presses very uncharacteristically sweet kisses all over your face. There’s the occasional exchange before a shootout where he steps in front of you as if you need protecting. Little things a cruel outlaw might do when in love with his dear golden boy. Not that Colm would ever admit anything like that. No, he’ll hide it and let out his frustrations about not being able to act sweet by fucking you senseless under the guise of rewards.

And you have been well aware of this for years now. Not that you’d ever bring it up.

“Could at least let some widows an’ orphans rest a little easy…” One of the deputies says with a slur to his voice. “Hard ta shoot folk without no hands.”

A few of them laugh and you find yourself looking at your hands. You are quite attached to your hands, both in the literal and figurative sense. Though you can think of a few ways to pull a trigger without them, you’d still rather keep them.

“I’d rather castrate ‘em.”

That gets more laughter. It’s an idiotic joke in itself. Once again, you’re quite attached to your dick and would like to keep it and its friends. But, just like the shooting, there are other ways you can think of to get around the loss of an appendage. Colm hardly touches it half the time anyway. Still would rather keep it though.

“Who’s ta say he ain’t cause us some problems.” Another laughs. “Could give ‘em a good beatin’.”

At the rate they’ve gotten themselves drunk, you would like to see them try. One of the deputies stumbles past the others. They watch as he takes out the keys, snickering and giving light cheers as he glares down at you. The second that door opens it will become very easy to take his gun and shoot the drunken fools. Though it is tempting to only disarm a few, maybe pay them their own threats before finishing them off.

But then the large front door to the sheriff’s office opens and several men flood inside. All thankfully featuring green somewhere on their bodies. The drunk lawmen drop to the ground as the boys shoot out their legs. They cry and whimper until blows land on their heads and the boys tell them to shut up. The man by your cell sputters as he tries for his gun, the same one that recommended hanging you. A hole forms in his head and he falls, keys dropping to the floor. Of course it’s Colm that stands with his gun raised, an irritated look across his features.

One of the boys scrambles for the keys, unlocking the door as you stand. You walk out and stop yourself in front of Colm like the obedient dog you have become in his presence. Very slowly, he runs his hand over your chest until his fingers curl tightly into your shirt. He tugs you closer, glaring and angry in having to rescue his dear golden boy.

“Anythin’ ya wanna say, boy?”

You shake your head, knowing better than to say what needs to be said in front of the boys. Not that they don’t know, but that you’d rather hang than look as pathetic as you let yourself become in Colm’s hands.

“They treat ya nice?” He asks, his grip on your shirt loosening ever so slightly.

Your eyes trace over the men, finding the familiar faces that laughed about torture. “Sheriff’s fine, not those two.”

Colm follows your gaze. “Any recommendations?” He releases you, turning to look at the men cowing on the ground. “Boys deserve a little fun since we came all this way.”

And those men very much taste their own words. Colm doesn’t think you deserve to see such a fun little party, so he drags you outside by the collar. But the screams, they sound much better than the laughs.

“Ya wanna explain yerself, boy?” Colm seethes, throwing you roughly against the stone wall that makes up the side of the sheriff’s office.

It’s too dark to see his face. Too late for people to be out and about, even with the screaming. This town is small, surrounded by gangs, no one would be so stupid to leave their home right now.

You stumble a bit, settling yourself against the wall, knowing very well Colm wants you where he puts you. “Can’t explain it, boss. The detonator should have worked.”

His hand winds into your hair, pulling you towards him. The pain shoots through your scalp, a good half of it running down to your dick knowing Colm’s habits. In the dim light of a lantern you can now see his face with the proximity. Perhaps his habits won’t be holding up, he looks rather displeased.

“And why is that?” He asks and you can practically feel the mocking in his voice.

He knows. He must know you messed up. His golden boy made a mistake, something that’s never happened before. You’re not entirely sure how he’ll react to it. But maybe you can talk your way out.

“Seamus probably.” You say as smoothly as you can with the grimace on your face Colm’s rough tugging brings on. “He’s the one that wired things.”

Faster than you can blink, Colm shoves your head back into the wall. The impact with the stone does nothing for your headache, even makes you see stars a little. Your vision is double and shaky as Colm grips harshly onto your cheek to make you look at him, his other hand still gripping at your hair. For a few seconds you see two of his angry face, but as he speaks it settles into one.

“I ain’t a fool, boy.” He hisses. “Ya messed up, lost me a lotta money.”

You groan as his hand tightens in your hair, the stinging not bringing any more pleasure and solely burning through your scalp.

“Here I thought you was perfect.”

That almost stings more than your head. Colm’s praises always keep you going and disappointing him is not something you ever want to do again.

“‘m sorry, boss.” You rasp. “I-I…”

Colm presses his nails into your skin, deep enough to leave marks across your face. “Shut yer damn mouth, pretty boy.”

You nod slightly in his grip, only unable to keep yourself from whimpering at the fresh pain. You can feel something trickle, something wet. By the momentary smirk on Colm’s face, you guess he’s drawn blood, perhaps even done enough to leave scars. Scars embedded into your cheek, Colm’s nails forever digging into your skin.

“Get on yer knees now, boy.”

His grip releases, pain no longer focusing where his hands were and now spreading back to your head as you drop to your knees. You land rough, not wanting to make Colm any more upset, not wanting to disappoint him again. With somewhat hungry eyes, you watch as he unfastens his pants. He pushes his gunbelt up, situating things around as he pulls out his dick. Long and thin, achingly hard, everything you remember. But you’ve never been on your knees before, never had your face so close.

“Fuckin’s a reward, pretty boy.” He grunts, pressing his dick to your lips. “Ya haven’t been very good.”

You don’t dare move without his order. There have been times where he’s thrown you out of his bed for being too eager, made you sit on the floor while he dealt with himself. But that was when he was happy with you, when his dear golden boy hadn’t made any mistakes. You fear what he might do if you make even a single move of your own. So you sit on your knees, taking in the musky scent of the thing you’re supposed to put in your mouth. You wouldn’t particularly describe Colm as a clean man.

He drags his tip along your chin and up to your cheek. You’d give anything for a bit more light to see his face but you’d likely die on the spot if anyone saw you like this. For a moment it stings and you know it’s rubbing over one of Colm’s marks on your cheek, the one his thumb made by your eye. You make a note to clean yourself thoroughly after this. As much as you want to please Colm, to hear his praises, you don’t want some infection from his unwashed dick rubbing into a cut on your face. He seems to enjoy doing though, and for a moment you shutter at the thought of what he would be doing if you had something as large as a stab wound instead.

Then his hand returns to your hair, tugging roughly enough to snap you out of any thought and make your focus turn entirely on him. He tilts your head back and you provide no resistance. Every step of the way, he guides your head. Pressing softly to your lips and urging you down onto him, you open your mouth without question. As he slides through your mouth you taste every inch on him. He certainly hasn’t bathed in a while and you could guess that from his hair, but this really sells it. He tastes like sweat and dirt and dried pomade. And as he forces himself all the way in, hitting the back of your throat as tears form in your eyes, your nose is pressed against an even more foul bunch of pubic hair. It smells like the rest of him, but it’s not nearly as pleasurable as a normal musk might be with the unkempt hairs tickling your nose. For a few seconds he simply sits in your mouth, his dick fully enveloped. You struggle not to panic. You’ve always known he was long, loved it when it hits you so well deep inside where most men could never imagine fucking, but now that he’s shoved himself down your throat you’re not quite as keen.

You can hardly hear his words with how much your head pounds. “Be a good boy an’ sit still.”

Then he moves. You have air for all of a second before he rams himself back in and your throat closes slightly around his tip. It chokes you but it must be the feeling he’s chasing because he does it again and again. At this rate you feel much more like a simple dark, wet hole than a golden boy. But Colm keeps you eager with praises.

“Look at chu, pretty boy.” He mutters. “Such a good boy, always makin’ the boss feel good.”

Of course you do. Colm ordered you to after all. That’s your job. Whatever Colm wants.

“Shit, yer such a pretty thing.”

His hand still grips your hair as he forces your movements, fucking your mouth roughly. But his praises come with another hand, soft as he combs through your hair. Two sides of a coin, just like always, reward or punishment.

“Feel so damn good, boy.” He huffs, his hips starting to become erratic. “Always so good fer me, my golden boy.”

With that you can feel the tightness of your pants, but you don’t dare do a thing about it. Not without the boss’s permission, not without Colm’s smile and hungry eyes.

“Sit pretty fer me now.” He orders, pulling back.

His hands leave your hair, his dick slipping from your mouth. It takes a lot of control to stay upright, to not keel over and gasp for breath. Instead you stay as he left you, sputtering coughs and little gasps as your eyes fix on him. He works himself fast, his hand moving roughly against sensitive skin slicked by its time fucking into your throat. You close your eyes when he grunts, feeling warm streaks across your face a second later. As Colm hums to himself, you keep still. You feel the air around you shift as he kneels down in front of you. His lips press against yours, kiss slicked by his cum on your lips. He holds you still, his hand gripping that same spot in your hair with the same roughness as he kisses you deeply. Faintly, you feel something else against your skin. It rubs over your eyes and over your cheek. When Colm pulls back from his kissing you open your eyes.

He holds a rag in hand, running it over the cuts he made to keep them somewhat clean for the moment. His face holds a focus, but nothing else. No anger, no gentleness, simply focus as he wipes his cum off of some of your face. Not all, just what’s necessary, just your eyes and injuries. Then he tosses the rag to the ground, his other hand still tightly holding you in place by the hair. His eyes look over you, tracing along where you can feel the now cooling bits of him still on your skin. You take a sharp inhale as his free hand grips roughly onto your straining dick. His eyes bore into yours, anger now clear on his face.

“No more mistakes, pretty boy.” He warns. “I much prefer fuckin’ ya normal.”

You give him a small nod. “Yes, sir.”

He squeezes your dick. “My golden boy don’t make mistakes, do he?”

“No, sir.” You gasp out.

“An’ he’s gonna make that money back so I can fuck ‘em senseless, ain’t he?” His hand kneads down into your dick, giving it much needed friction.

“Fuck…” You groan. “Y-Yes, sir.”

He removes his hand, the other tugging tightly at your hair to make you focus on his face again. “Take them boys ‘n get me my money, pretty boy.”

You hold back a whimper from the lack of contact. “Yes, sir.”

He tugs again. “No cleanin’ up either, ya deserve what ya got.”

Then he releases you, standing as you fall on your hands and knees to the ground. You breathe heavily as he walks away, catching your breath and gaining your senses. You have blood drying along cuts from Colm’s nails, cum drying on your skin and likely your hair as well, no fit state to face a bunch of the boys. But of course you do. Colm told you to after all. That’s your job. Whatever Colm wants.

[green-alien-turdz]

started autistically vibrating the second i read your answer lmfao. i was thinking cartman or tweek myself tbh, those bitches are both just PRIMED for it imo. i tend to lean towards a lot of abduction experiences being some kind of extreme reaction to other earthly trauma, but that really doesnt seem to fit every account so idk what the fuck is going on. god though dude *puts on homemade MUFON lanyard* i am SO SO SO CURIOUS to hear about your/your fam's weird experiences if you ever wanna share, i saw some questionable shit when i briefly lived out in Ohio myself. gone back and forth on the legitimacy of it all over the years, one of those things that's like, the more you research the less you Know.

Okay bro, I gotchu. I NEVER get to talk about this shit so imma fuckin go wild

Ight, so legit everybody in my mfin family got some shit to say- I tried to pry my brother's experiences outta him, but he is dogshit about answerin questions. Just know that he got some stories from when he would go campin n shit (even though he has funny ass stories from when he was outta his mind fucked up, there's still a lotta sober experiences he's got too)

1st, my dad: his stories are kinda vague too bcuz we don't talk, but from what he has told me in the past, he has 2 moments in his life he was certain was alien activity. Both of these take place in Texas (but when he was still livin in Ohio, he did say he'd seen some weird shit). The first is when he was movin to Oregon, n he was drivin late at night through Texas. Not a soul on the mfin road n he's in buttfuck nowhere. He said that there was this huge fuckin flash of light from above n his truck completely shut off. Like, the mf was still rollin at the same speed, but nothin it was like the car itself just kinda switched off (no engine, no lights, no music, nothin). He's tryin to start it up over n over, not really sure what the hell was goin on- so he's tryna pop the clutch seein as he was still movin. But this shit would NOT turn the fuck over. Until after he was gonna give up, slowly brake n just pull off to the side, but before he even attempted, the truck starts up again n continues on like nothin even happened.

His second experience I don't remember as well, so sorry about that. If I fuckin recall my dad n his band were just finishin up a show n were just chillin behind the bar smokin. One mf points out that there's this weird fuckin plane over some buildings on the horizon. Like, it just wasn't movin right? He said it seemed to be movin in a really slow zig zag pattern (but it wasn't like a drone, this this was way too big n it was the mid-90s). They kinda brush it off bcuz it's late as hell n they're all pretty shitfaced. But he said that it lasted in that area for about 10 more minutes, just movin back n forth until he looked away for a minute n it was just gone.

He's also told me about how on his late night drives in dead places, he's seen a shit load of random light infront of him shootin into the ground, n this is especially fuckin freaky to me bcuz I got a very similar thing that happened not that long ago. It's explained in my individual experience.

My mom n grandma: My gma might have some more, I feel like she had told me somethin. This one is backed by both my mom n my gma (although my uncle was here too, he just doesn't associate w/ the family so maybe he'd have some input). My gma used to drive from across the whole U.S. ALL the fuckin time when my mom was growin up, like they always had these roadtrips bcuz my gpa was an abusive pos n they'd escape back to my greatgrandparents place. So they're in the more of the desert states (like New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, I just can't remember which). My mom is probably about 10 or so. It's full on daylight, unlike every other story I got, this is the only one where it is broad fuckin daylight out. There's nothin but desert for miles, it's just a long beige stretch. So when my mom saw somethin just hoverin in the sky, it stuck out like a sore thumb. My mom calls it out, which causes everyone in the car to just watch it. My gma doesn't stop drivin, but she slowed down quite a bit, n she says that thing just fuckin sat there. Like, no movement whatsoever. It didn't look all that much like a plane, but they couldn't make out defined details. All they knew is that there is this plane adjacent aircraft just hoverin in the middle of the desert. They'd never seen anythin like it, despite all of them bein raised on military bases n seein a lot of kinds of military aircrafts (which is why this was ruled out). They kept drivin off but my mom said she just watched it through the window as it became smaller n smaller until it got too far away to see- but that shit never moved. It just remained hoverin in that same place.

Ight, Imma get into my experiences now, I got two with people n one that's on my own (that one is long as SHIT).

The first one is with me n my sisters (home in Oregon): This is around 2015-2016. It's the middle of the night in late April. We were chillin bcuz it was one of my sisters bdays n we were just talkin n watchin the stars. Now we live right next to an airport, so there are a shit ton of planes that go over, even late at night- but you can always tell those bcuz of the red lights n they're usually not that high up yet. We were just talkin tryin to find constellations bcuz it was a clear ass night. At some point we see these two lights. They're contained in these circular shadows WELL into the sky, but we could still make out a vessel that the light were on. 4 light on each circle. They're goin up n down the night sky back n forth completely parallel, so it seems like they're together. At first we were losin our shit, not able to explain what we were watchin. After some rational thought, we were like 'mfer we see satellites in the sky all the time, that's probably what these are' bcuz they were fuckin zoomin through the sky. We even see satellites pass over, but we kinda notice that they move n look a LOT different than the lights we were watchin. But every satellite's different yknow? That is until these mfs, the completely parallel movin in tandem lights all of a sudden both separate n go fuckin zoomin away from one another in the opposite direction. No longer up n down, but left n right. And then they're just fuckin GONE. Like, they sped off n never returned to the place they'd been for like 20 or so minutes. (Now I am willin to admit, that very well could be satellites, but it's still weird as fuck).

Here's one with me n my dad: This is around 2019. We were out in Utah, middle of the desert. This time it's probably closer to like 10-11pm. We were kinda just doin our own thing, sittin, thinkin about shit. When outta the fuckin blue, we notice this weird ass aircraft. Like, it low flying, large enough to be a fuckin cargo plane (doesn't look like one though), n movin super slow with a BRIGHT fuckin light slowly phasin in n out, illuminatin the craft. We're both losin our shit watchin this bcuz neither of us know what the fuck we're lookin at. Now this this was low enough that, if it were a plane, we would've heard it. But it was movin at the same speed which planes always appear to be when they're thousands of feet into the sky. But this was maybe 200 or less feet up. It was a really thick, aircraft that was slightly triangular in shape, but still pretty bulky. We couldn't see any engine or shit like that. We are legit fuckin shoutin like mad men, chasin this thing. At some point we try to call over the rest of the family, but we're slowly losin our visual on this thing. Everyone else is tryna look in the sky as my dad n I make a mad dash tryna keep an eye on it as it went behind some structure. But the second we got to a place where it should've been seen on the other side, based on its flight path, this thing was fuckin gone. Like, nowhere in the sky. It was like it was never there. To this day not sure what the fuck we were watchin bcuz we followed it for a good while, just for it to vanish.

Okay, now onto my final encounter (warning, this is a LONG mf bcuz it just happened in January, so it's fresh on my mind): I had decided to drive out to Sauvi island at like 1 am because I really wanted to go out and watch the water. But it was like the foggiest night in existence. It was during that period in January where every night was covered in this thick, heavy fog. I wasn't gonna let that stop me though. Even if I could barely see the road and almost crashed like 5 different times, I was determined. The drive itself was kinda ominous, but shit didn't start gettin weird until I actually reached Sauvi's. The second I reach the island, something just feels off instantly. I mean, no one's on the road of course, it's late, it's foggy. But I mean, it was DEAD. There was an alarming amount of roadkill everywhere (like fresh roadkill), and the entire island reeked of fuckin death, skunk, and mold. So I keep fuckin driving and just get the sense that someone was following me, like on my ass tailing me, but there wasn't any other cars or nothing. But I had the window down and swear I could hear some shit close to me. I'm driving and manage to miss my turn off to the beach. Here's where shit genuinely starts getting weird. Lights. Unexplainable lights ALL over. Now if this was a more populated area, I would assume some of this was street lamps, but the island doesn't really have that many (they have them in front of some buildings, but the roads are lightless). I kept seein "headlights" coming around turns that didn't exist. And when I should've been passing them, there was nothing there and the lights were gone. Okay, weird, but maybe it was my headlights reflection on the fog. Then I see fuckin taillights. I get confused because it looks like a car going up a hill, and I brushed it off before realizing that it was a wide open, flat road, and there was no hill or car in sight. I watched the lights turn into nothing and they were gone. At this point, I'm freaked out, but I'm still finding my way back to the beach. I manage to loop back around to the entrance of Sauvi's so I can take the right turn this time. When I tell you that the smell is worse and I even notice more roadkill. I would've seen any other cars on the road, but there was fuckin no one. And I know damn well that I wasn't the one who hit them. But I brush that off because I'm every white person in a horror movie. Not too long after, I saw the final unexplainable light I'd see that night. There was this small-ish, but abnormally bright light just kinda bobbing up and down infront of this post. I assumed it was some weird reflective thing, but as I approached it, it went up and then shot into the ground- the light completely disappearin into the ground. After I saw this, the feelin of bein chased was at a 100%, like I was stressin. I finally took the right turn, and there's this one fuckin shadow in the fog that I'm TELLING you looked like this tall fucking figure walking about. I legit stopped dead in my tracks to watch it, but this feeling of dread came over me, and I sped off. I finally make it to the beach, but I think I stayed for maybe 5 minutes or less? There was an extremely menacing feeling. Like it was THICK. I couldn't see the water it was so fogged out. I mean, it was beautiful. But it truly felt like I was being watched. There was little to no sound until I heard coyotes fucking EVERYWHERE. Like an insane amount. I head back to the car and they seem to shut up. I absolutely dipped the fuck outta there.

Now it is important to note with Sauvi's that there is maybe a supernatural element into that. Seein as Sauvi's, like most of Oregon n the U.S. was home to Native Americans (Chinook Indians specifically) n as we know, mfs just weren't allowed catch a break (to put things lightly). So there is more than likely some unrest in the energies n life of the island.

But yeah, there's a small collection of experiences in my family. I'd LOVE to hear your shit from Ohio. That place has some strange shit goin on there, like genuinely. Everytime I went to vist my dad's mom, that place just feels like somethins goin on there

[seenoversundown]

Dueling Cameras

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.2k

Oh Klahoma - Jack Stauber " Go on and hand me your clothes, Take a picture or two, I can see you"

“Come on Willa,” Sam yelled from across the house. 

“I’m grabbing my shoes and I’ll be ready!” I responded. 

As I come to the front of the house I find Sam squatting down to put Penelope's leash on. Those two are always inseparable. 

“Y’ready?” He says when he notices me watching them. 

“Absolutely, let's go.” I say as I give him a quick kiss.

As we ride to the fair, I look out the window while Sam sings along to what’s playing over the speakers.

“Workin’ on our night moves.

Tryin’ to make some front page drive-in news.”

I look over to him sitting in the driver's seat. “Still stuck in your head?”

“I’ve spent too many nights helping Jake close the bar,” Sam says with a laugh. 

We drive the rest of the way that’s only broken when Penelope starts to whine. When we finally park, Sam is quick to get to Penny and let her out the back door. I get out and start to close the door when I notice Sam’s camera bag sitting on the back seat. Knowing he was too focused on Miss P and will probably be upset when he notices he's left it behind, I grab it. 

Sam’s a little bit ahead of me when I finally do catch up to them. Before catching up completely, I pull out his camera and take a quick photo of them from behind. He’s always been attractive to me, but it wasn’t until a year or so ago until I finally admitted it to myself. 

Click. 

It isn’t long until the three of us step foot inside the state fair. I take the lead and start heading left, straight to the pumpkin patch. 

“You really want to carry around pumpkins for the rest of the day?” Sam asks, giving me a questioning look.

“Well, if we wait until later all of the good ones will be gone.” I said matter of factly. 

A hearty chuckle comes from Sam as he throws his arm over your shoulder. “Whatever you want, my little bird.” 

We walk like this until we reach the patch full of yellows, oranges and whites. Penelope's quick to pull us towards a cluster of decent looking pumpkins. 

“Good work, Penny-girl.” I say, leaning down to pat her between the ears. 

Click. 

Hearing that soft click, I’m a little surprised. I thought I had Sam’s camera. Turning to look at him, I see a shit eating grin spread across his face. 

“New toy.” Is all he says while holding up a small film camera. 

“I should’ve known.” I reply while playfully rolling my eyes. 

“Yes, you should’ve.” Sam presses a kiss to my cheek. “Always gotta document my girls.” 

My heart always does a little flip when he calls us that. His girls. I run ahead and whip out the other camera. 

Click. 

A bewildered look crosses Sam’s face while Penelope just watches, her tail whipping the air. 

“Fancy a game of dueling cameras?” I say in my best posh accent. 

I’m rewarded with a deep belly laugh from Sam that liquifies my insides. My favorite sound, I can’t help but think. 

“Game on.” 

I take off running father into the patch, Penelope's barks trailing behind me. Sam’s laughing out loud, and I can’t help but laugh along with him. One of my favorite things about this man is how free he lets me be. Never once has he tried to clip my wings, he’s only interested in helping me fly. 

Throwing my arms up in the air I stop where I am and spin, laughter is tumbling out of me in waves. 

Click. Click. 

Sam lets go of the leash and she’s quick to join me, her happy barks filling the air. 

Looking back at Sam, I realize he isn’t standing in the same place anymore. The pumpkin patch is steadily getting busier, and I can’t spot him as I glance around. 

Suddenly, arms are on either side of me and my feet are whisked off the ground, I can’t stop myself as I scream upon take off. 

“Got you,” Sam says in my ear. 

“Unfair!” I say as he puts me down. I cross my arms across my chest and give him a fake pout. “You came outta nowhere.” 

“Always gotta keep you on your toes.”  A quick kiss is pressed on the tip of my nose. “Now, let’s get what we came for. Those roasted seeds are calling my name.” He’s quick to grab the leash as we finally settle on an area of pumpkins to choose from. 

“How about this one?” Sam holds up a classic orange pumpkin that’s perfectly round. 

Click. 

“If that’s your choice. This one’s mine, I think.” I take my turn to hold up a yellow pumpkin that’s more oval-like. “I have a great idea for the face I wanna put on this bad boy!” 

“I think I need to reevaluate my choice,” Sam says with a laugh. “How about this one instead?” Similar to my yellow oddball, he’s found one of similar shape but in orange. 

“Oh, Samuel. That’s a fine specimen indeed.”

A bark cute through the air, we both look to find Penelope sniffing a smaller white pumpkin. 

Click. 

“It seems as though Penny-girl has chosen her pumpkin, too.” I say. 

We make quick work of purchasing our small family of pumpkins. , excited to get them back home. I have Penelope's leash in hand as we walk back through the fair. Admiring the rides and all the bright lights that are seemingly getting brighter as the sun goes down. 

“Willa,” 

With a smile, I turn my head quickly at the sound of Sam’s soft voice cutting through the noise. He’s only a few paces behind me with his camera up to his face.

Click. 

“What do I get for winning this round?”, Sam says in a cheeky little tone, a smile plastered across his face as he catches up to us. 

“Mmm.. I have an idea”, deciding to play along, I hit him with a little wink. I motion for him to lean down, planting a kiss on his lips, holding him there for an extra beat. Maybe two beats. 

“Well”, he starts, “let’s get you home then, shall we?” Grabbing my hand and taking off to the car, moving a bit quicker than before. Rose and I trailing behind him as we approach the car. Letting her into the backseat before I get in, Sam’s already starting the car. 

As soon as I slide into my seat, he throws the car in drive. His right hand immediately intertwined with mine, resting on my leg. The sight makes my heart swell, until I look over at him in the last minutes of daylight. His hair is a little disheveled from the wind and the brisk walk, but the soft smile resting on his face as he focuses on the road was really the prize for me. 

Click. 

Masterlist | Taglist

[kalisburnerphone]

1 Shot // Haruchiyo Sanzu

CW: mentions of Bipolar 1 Disorder, mental health, alcohol consumption, slight codependency. it’s mainly just a vulnerable piece.

Not sure what the word count is either.

Artwork is not mine, full credits to the owner.

music rec- 1 Shot, Mood - DPR IAN

Sanzu felt like shit, he really did. He didn’t want to feel like this but it was one of those days where the depressive lows came before the manic highs and he couldn’t deal. He needed you but you were at home while Mikey had sent him and the Haitanis to Seoul to sort out an issue with one of their connects. It’s been two months since he’s held you, touched you, kissed you and fuck he knows it’s wrong but he couldn’t help how dependent he’d gotten to you.

When Sanzu had first come clean about his bipolar 1 disorder, he was surprised that you weren’t appalled by it. Sure he never really made much of an effort at relationships before you but the ones he did want to try with had all bolted when they found out why he’d pop pills so often. The pills had made him feel like shit but they had helped regulate his moods and kept his manic side at bay. You didn’t bolt and run for the hills like he’d expected, just grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back down on the bed stuffing his face in your chest and reassuring him that you were there and you weren’t going to leave.

He’d been stuck in his hotel room for the past two days , barely touched the food Rindou had sent to his room. Doesn’t remember the last time he showered or shaved since he started dipping. Sanzu knows he shouldn’t be mixing alcohol with his meds but it’s all he can do to numb what’s he’s feeling.

The sound of his room door opening goes unnoticed and that’s how you find him, shirtless on a loveseat with a half finished glass of whiskey between his fingers. He has his eyes locked on the view of the city provided by the ceiling to floor windows.

You don’t make your presence know, not sure if he’s actually noticed that you’re here or if he’s lost in his head. You clean up around the room, change the sheets on his bed and run a bath using the lavender bath bomb from the set on the bathroom sink. Easing your way back into the bedroom, you move in front of him taking the unfinished whiskey from his hand and resting it on the table besides him. The look in his eyes is enough to let you know that he’s not really present in his mind.

Cupping his cheeks in your hands you press your lips to his. It takes a few minutes of continuous pecks to his lips before you feel him reciprocating,feel him coming out from the depths of his mind.

“Princess?”

“Hi,baby.” You smile at him as he takes time to process that you’re really in front of him-that he hadn’t imagined you walking through the door of his hotel room.

“What’re you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Haru.” You tease, raising up and pulling him with you as he lets you lead him towards the bathroom.

“Rin called, said you’d been a mood lately but he couldn’t quite figure it out. I didn’t really dwell on it cause I know you but, then you stopped calling, stopped texting or returning any of mine…that’s when I noticed. Ran called as I was booking my flight and said that he’d already handled everything, just get my ass on the flight and here I am.”

You smile as you help him out of his clothes and push him in the direction of the filled tub. As he settles in the warm water, you unclasp one of the grabber clips holding your hair up and use it to hold the longer strands of his hair up.

“ ‘m sorry. It just hit me outta nowhere and I knew you had that big work project going on…I didn’t want to bother you with my issues.”

You don’t give him an immediate answer, instead opting to slip out off the outfit you’re wearing and ask him to move back a bit. The tubs big enough for you to settle on his lap and once again cup his face in your hands.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t need to apologize for things that are out of your control? Yes, that work project was important but above all you’re the most important person in my life Haru. I’m here for you, as long as you’ll have me.” You state before pressing kisses all over his face until you feel him relax and slump against the tub. His hold on your body is tight, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold you close.

“I love you,” it’s faint, but the with the way he has you pressed against him; you hear him loud and clear.

“…I know that I don’t say it often but I need you to know that I love you and I’m grateful to have you by my side.”

“I love you too, baby. Even if you don’t say it often, I know. It shows in the little things you do for me like making sure my favorite cereal is always in the cupboard despite thinking cereal for breakfast is a crime. Ensuring that I get home safely every day whether it’s doing it yourself or getting one of the boys or your driver to do so. It’s in the way you always put me on the inside of the pavement whenever we go on those little walks.”

You could go on about all the ways in which your boyfriend makes you feel loved and cherished. Haruchiyo might not be some angel but your boyfriend’s extra curricular activities were not your business. What mattered to you was that he was happy and healthy. People do what they have to do to survive and as far as you know, your boyfriend has a corporate office job that requires a lot of late nights and frequent travelling.

By the time you’re both out of the tub, your fingers have begun to prune. He wraps you in one of the big fluffy towels before pulling you back into the room with him. You’re being pulled onto his lap once he’s settled on the bed, lips trailing across your shoulder, up the side of your neck and across your cheek before he pecks your lips. You know it’s nothing sexual, just his need to have you close to feel your warmth against him; to remind himself that despite the darkness and the shit he feels, that you’re there for him. That little bit of light at the end of the tunnel whenever he’s to lost in his own head to get out alone.

“I’m gonna put a ring on this finger, y’know.” It’s soft the way he says it that you almost miss it as he fiddles with your ring finger. “Might not be today or tomorrow but I’m gonna make you my wife.” he continues, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand as your other hand plays with his hair.

Not much needed to be said in moments like this and he would never admit that he enjoys how much you listen to him rant. You’re always attentive and aware of his wants and needs that words aren’t always a necessity between you both, You don’t say much the rest of the night, just little inserts where you deem necessary until you feel him yawn against your exposed chest. You knew he never slept when his moods shifted and that he’d been out for a few hours before he woke you up for other activities.

“Get some sleep, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ya promise?” he mumbles trying to push himself further into your chest.

“Promise, I’ll always be here.” a soft kiss to his forehead and you feel him sigh contentedly.

“Forever and Always?”

“Always and Forever,Haru.”

[thekinkyleopard]

Snzfire of Hostility

A Non-Canon Snz Series featuring; AlxKoxNai

Part 1 of ?

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Bullying, Sexual Harassment, Cursing, Snz Fet

Description: Draeko is the fresh meat at College, new in town, and at first the jocks Alistar and Kanai, don’t find much interest in him. Until they find out he’s rather a little factory of entertainment and fetish gold. What will become of them all?

Author’s Notes: I suck at descriptions w/e it’s gonna be good I promise! I can’t believe an Idea I had for Remi x Levi was best suited for y’all as an AlxKoxNai series 😭😂 you right tho….it would be better to see Al bully tf outta Drae >:) @aller-geez made the cover art and owns Draeko as well as Kanai!

“Down the hall to the right, out that door, across the atrium, building G, that’s where your first class is….from there ask your professor where your next class is,” the director spoke with a less than amused tone in his voice as the mint and pink haired male nodded swiftly.

“Yes, thank you!” Quickly he made haste, practically tripping over his own feet to avoid being too late and making a spectacle of himself upon entering the classroom. He skittered his way down the hall and out the door in order to reach the desired building. He witnessed the last person trickle through the door barely squeezing to a shut when Draeko caught hold of it, and swung open the door creeping inside, undetected by the other students as everyone was trying to cram into their seats. He took a deep breath and made his way to the front row. If he was going to finally take life seriously, be apart of society, he was going to get a good head start by sitting up front. This way he could retain information and hopefully stay focused.

The mutt slapped his bag down onto the ground and he slipped into his seat comfortably trying to avoid looking at anyone and making any sort of eye contact.

“Hey dude, you got an extra fuckin’ pencil?” the brightly colored male heard behind him, but not directed at him. He tuned in.

“Did you not bring a pencil, Donnie?” He heard a second, lighter but still deep voice answer the first back. Which then was followed by an agitated sounding scoff.

“Dude…don’t gimme a god damn lecture, do you have an extra pencil or NOT?” There was a sound of shuffling and unzipping as one could only assume the person being asked was at least actively looking to solve the other’s ailing needs.

“I do not,” the man responded gently after a few minutes of rustling went nowhere.

“Tch, useless,” A loud nasally sigh could be heard from behind Draeko, and before long a throat clearing itself.

“Hey kid,” now this, this sounded a lot more like it was being addressed to him this time. Drae’s body perked up, and slowly he turned his body to face the voice that had beckoned him.

“M-me?” He asked nervously, a very gentle pink hue spreading across his gentle cheeks.

“Yeah? Who the fuck else? You got an extra pencil ?” The red head looked him up and down, he seemed less than interested as he was only hoping for the solution to his ever continuing pencilless problem.

“I have mechanical or regular,” making quick work, the hybrid began to shuffle through his pencil box, pulling out two different writing utensils to present the red eyed student with.

“Shit kid you got options ?? Shoot me a mechanical…can I keep it?” Almost grinning ear to ear, he hadn’t really even expected the other to help him out let alone give him two choices, one being an elite choice.

“Sure,” the pastel colored male shrugged his shoulders and carelessly waved his hand about to emphasize it wasn’t a big deal, hand outstretched to hand him the writing instrument.

“Sweet, thanks,” the larger just barely lifted himself from his seat in order to take the pencil within his fingers and sat back down to examine it. Draeko, taking this time to nod and return to facing the front of the class.

It was then when the professor took her entrance upon the classroom and put her briefcase down onto her desk halfway across the room. “Good morning class! We have a new student today joining our class for the rest of the semester! Draeko Grey,” stepping over to his desk and showcasing him, the hybrid sinking where he sat, embarrassed by all the attention. “Anyway, make sure to make Draeko here feel welcome and don’t be rude to him,” she put her hand on his desk, and as she walked past him swiftly, the male caught a ticklish scent that slapped him in the face. It was almost instant the second it touched the vibrissae of his nostrils. “Hh’NDKT’ih!! K’GNSH’iiew!!” Sudden spurts of saliva came spewing from behind his lips dusting the desk underneath him. His throat itching as the scent of his Professor’s perfume suffocated him.

The red head behind him, was baring daggers into the back of his head. He leaned over and nudged his grey and navy colored friend. “You hear that?”

“Hm?” The friend responded almost disinterested, unknowing to why his buddy was bothering him in the first place.

“Did you hear /that/?” He asked pointing to the back of the mint and pink colored male that was audibly snuffling and snarfing, rubbing his nose across his jacket sleeve.

“Yes and?” he furrowed his brows and looked curiously over at his red headed mate.

“God you’re so unimaginative….” He raised his hand quickly as his ruby reds rolled with irritation.

“Yes Mr Satanos?” The educator paused from what she had been saying to acknowledge the man with his arm raised.

“Yeah can you come take a look at this part of my homework? Just want to make sure I did it right,” he did. He knew he did. Kanai did their homework for them so he of course knew that it wouldn’t be less than perfect. Yet, he needed to test a theory out.

“Can’t it wait Al?” She sighed almost to give Drae the impression the red head sitting behind him was a regular problem in this class.

“Look, If you don’t care whether I learn or fail, I suppose I don’t either,” tossing his hands up and slumping lazily back into his chair. She sighed, having been successfully manipulated, she started to close the distance between herself and the student that beckoned her. Slowly she crossed passed the new student and within seconds after she already walked by, the mutt was back at it. His nostrils tightening up, filling with mucus and the ticklish urge to spew outward.

“Hihh’GXXTsh’iiew!!” This time the loud kitten like sneeze made the educator nervous, turning around. Facing him, as the small student did his best to keep his mess to a minimum at best.

“Are you okay Mr Grey?” She asked nervously, hoping the new kid wasn’t waltzing in with a fresh virus and ready to spread it throughout the school.

“I- H’h…think it’s …Hh’…H’GXTSH!” He turned his head sharply to make sure he caught it in the crook of his arm instead of rudely onto his teacher. “Your perfume…Ma’am…H’KGXNT!” he whimpered, trying to stifle another into the palms of his hands. After getting himself more or less grounded, he began grabbing his backpack and quickly digging through it for a pack of tissues. Meanwhile the perpetrator to all this, grinning ear to ear.

“Bless you,” he licked his lips once over, sparkling darkened eyes while his heart raced at a million miles per minute. Fixated. The other, more stoic and silent male looking over at him with a raised brow and back at the mutt in front of them and back at his best friend. 

“Why are you asking for the teacher’s help? You had my help…I’m never wrong?” The Navy haired man sounded almost offended by the other’s response to ask for a homework check. How dare he?

“Shhhhutthefuckup,” The crimson eyed man growled low in his throat, quickly in one swift sentence in hopes the educator wouldn’t catch on to his antics.

“Shoot, I’m terribly sorry Draeko! I’ll make sure I don’t wear this scent again…” she shook her head, feeling absolutely terrible that her first time in her long career of teaching, she’d triggered a student with her perfume.

“T-thank y— K’GNSH’iiew!! You….” He sighed deeply after his face exploded with another kitten sneeze that echoed the whispering students. You could hear the congestion behind it as he only felt worse in each passing second. Drae was embarrassed beyond belief, his face bright red as he wished he could simply stick his head into the ground. Nostrils chapped from rubbing at them so roughly to rid his face of evidence.

“Bless you, Drae…anyways, Al, what is it?” She turned back around, unable to help out the student as of current and she could only juggle so much.

“Oh, uh nothing actually….Kanai took a look and he reassured me, everything was fine,” he grinned up at her, toothy and proud. She almost wanted to reach across the desk and strangle him with her own two bare hands.

“You’re such a-….” She bit her tongue , the professor stood straight, simply fixed her shirt and walked back to her desk. Unfortunately, having to waft another cloud of that horrendous odor that made the mutt’s throat itch. The red head snickered sadistically as he elbowed the one called, Kanai.

Drae was desperate to get his sinuses under control, but the lingering assaulting scent stubbornly gripped to the insides of his nasal walls. “H’..Ee.. ehh’Gxxtchh’iew!! ‘gNSH!” shoveling his face into the crook of his elbow he snuffled gently, his kittenish sounds drawing more and more attention to himself through the two mischievous men behind him. He heard them chuckling and whispering…he knew it was about him. He was flat out embarrassed that he couldn’t get a hold of himself.

“Mr. Grey would you like to step out for a moment?” The shit eating fire starter, rapidly raising his hand.

“Might I show the poor soul to the bathroom, Prof?” Drae turned around, with the end of his sleeve rubbing circles at his terribly afflicted nose. What was this guy’s angle? He had essentially made that woman walk by him in the first place…why was he helping now? He didn’t trust it, or him, for a second but, he wouldn’t be able to go to the restroom and find his way back WITHOUT help. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“If that’s okay with him, I don’t care what you do, Alistar,” ah, so that was the red head’s name. The mutt made note before nodding with his hand covering his leaking nose, voice muffled behind fabric.

“S’okay,” nodding his head before standing up, Al quickly following suit as he was first to start making the journey to the door.

“Come on pipsqueak, let’s get you cleaned up,” he flung a quick, strange glance at his stoic, unreadable navy haired friend, who simply nodded. Almost out of respect. Shortly after they were alone behind the door of their classroom and all the silence filled them. The only sounds were the echoing thud of Alistar’s leather clad boots, and the chains from his jeans jingling amongst each other. Drae took the time to get a good look at him, at least from behind and the side as much as he could. His hair was long, dark crimson, in a low ponytail…it looked like silk to him, he just wanted to reach out and touch it. He was weirdly beautiful despite the tattoos under his eyes. Almost added to the appeal one could say.

He didn’t say a word as they silently walked to the restroom. Once they arrived the clinking stopped, the thuds quieted and before the mutt could have a chance to register, he slammed into the back of the taller man, stammering backwards with an audible “oof— my bad…” Draeko chuckled nervously trying to gain some footing.

Slowly, the 6 foot classmate turned around and with a swift grab of the smaller’s hoodie collar, dragged them both inside the bathroom and slammed the other up against the entrance door. “Your bad indeed, look at you,” he took his index finger and roughly shoveled it up under Draeko’s dribbling nostrils, wiping the snot across his digit and wiping it carelessly across the front of the smaller student’s hoodie.

“Hey!” The mint and pink haired male’s eyebrows furrowed, his mint and grey colored eyes glaring daggers up at the other’s very intimating, yet expressionless face.

“Quiet,” Alistar barked, his voice booming with authority, it almost made Draeko melt like a puddle under the man’s grip. He would be lying if he said the crimson themed man wasn’t hotter than all hell as he pushed his dominance upon him. However, this was absurd! He barely knew this man! “I want more,” licking his thin, pierced lips, sucking inward and chewing on one of the long spikes there.

“I- I don’t have any left!” He stuttered pathetically, almost whining at the man with a panicked nature. His eyes scanned Al’s face for a sign of mercy anywhere on it. There wasn’t one.

“Bullshit, I know you can,” lifting his upper lip with impatient agitation he stepped closer into the smaller, his knee in between Draeko’s trembling legs.

“Seriously, I can’t! Let go of me and l-leave me alone you weirdo!” The mutt tried wiggling his way from under Al, but the man only shoved his hand against the mutt’s throat, to hold him in place against the door.

“No, actually I won’t leave you alone, what a stupid fuckin expectation to have of someone like me,” he scoffed with a loud psh that flung a few droplets of spit at Drae’s panicked features.

“What are you—“ when suddenly he found Al pulling out a few strands of his hair with a free hand, Draeko winced as the feeling of plucked strands left his head itchy, he frowned.

“Whatever I want,” Alistar answered before he was dragging the now lose strands of hair across the smaller’s sensitive nostrils, causing the hybrid to hitch, trying his best to swallow his breath. The red head narrowed his thin brows and squinted while moving in a few more inches, leaving no space between them. “Give in you stubborn little shit,” hissing behind gritting and grinding rows of teeth.

Draeko’s legs buckled underneath him as he trembled to keep himself from obeying, he didn’t want a stranger having complete power of him! That would be absurd! …and yet he couldn’t seem to keep it down as the thin hairs tortured his nose. “P-please…” he whimpered weakly, his watering eyes crossed as they looked between at the assault going on. “Ihh’gxxnt’iiew!!” He blew across Al’s tickling fingers, and his closed in face, taking the older student by surprise, but he grinned non the less. Licking the wet spots that had touch around his mouth.

“That’s so fucking good…” he groaned, low, animalistic and husky, the red head’s voice almost like a soft silk across one’s ear drums.

“Pl-please stop…class is..g-gonna end,” tears fell through the squeezed flesh of Drae’s crying, squinting eyes. He couldn’t control his facilities and he certainly couldn’t stop himself from giving into the red head’s motions.

“One more..” Al licked his lips predatorily, releasing his grip on the mutt’s neck, certain there was nothing he could do to escape this position anyway. He brushed his palm up against his cheek.

“I—“ Still protesting against Alistar’s movements, he twitched, and his head moved to avoid the other’s gentle caress.

“ONE. More.” This time the voice that came out of the crimson eyed man was less than patient, less than enthusiastic and less than tolerant of Draeko’s behavior. He brought up his hand and began to tickle and rub Drae’s sensitive nostrils with the flattened print of his thumb. The hybrid’s lips parted and his throat stuttered, his breath caught in the middle of his throat before it came bursting out of him.

“H’KGNSH!!!!” It flung out of his mouth and hit the red head square in his face again, yet each time it seemed that a cloud of saliva slapped itself across the red head, he never even flinched. Relishing in the feeling of it in fact.

“See? I knew you could do it, squirt,” he chuckled menacingly, sliding his tongue possessively across the other’s jaw. The moment lasted mere seconds before the demon was shoveling the other to the ground. “Catch you on the flip…I’d help you with that rager but if I don’t get back to class, I’ll get marked for it…so…guess you’ll pathetically have to suffer,” laughing with his head falling back as he pointed out the boner Drae was sporting. The red head’s long legs carrying him through the door of the bathroom and out of sight. Draeko snuffled and shuffled himself trying to get back on his feet feeling more or less like a used up chew toy.

“What a fucking dick!” Draeko pouted, blushing brightly across his face. He busted through a stall angrily to grab a handful of toilet paper, finally allowing himself to clear out his painfully tormented sinuses. A loud gurgle rose from his throat as he blew roughly into the mulched tree fabric. “Swear….Im never…SNdFf,” wiping his nose a few more times for good measure. “Talking to that guy again,” noticing his, problem downstairs only made him roll his eyes. “That happens to everyone when they’re scared….” But did it? Cause this was his first and , he’s been scared plenty. Petrified before even.

Draeko gathered himself, used the restroom and stood at the counter of the sink, staring himself in the face while shaking his head. “You’re the worst…you couldn’t even stand up for yourself right! How are you supposed to get a degree??” He groaned and let out an exasperated growl before he managed to feel halfway decent enough to leave the bathroom.

He was able to recall where he had come from to get to the bathroom in the first place, well enough to return to the class. Silently he walked back in, to his seat, avoiding eye contact with the men that sat behind him, slid in and quietly went back into focus. Alistar pouted himself, not even a quick glance? An acknowledgment of some kind? How cold. The professor managed to remain in her groove despite the slight interruption, though anticipated one way or another.

“Okay, so, you’re all going to read chapters 1-5 for the next week and come up with a discussion question, I’ll put you guys in groups and we will go around the room making sure each group has a question-…” as she explained next week’s agenda, Alistar hummed out loud causing his friend beside him to look over.

“Was your time alone not sufficient in the bathroom, Al?” Kanai asked curiously his own dull heterochomiatic eyes staring at the back of the pastel male’s head.

“Oh…it was great, he’s a real spritzer….Im just wondering how often, we can make this a thing, you know?” Despite talking at a low enough decibel that the Professor could keep talking without catching on, Drae however, was able to hear the two clearly behind him.

“Possibly everyday If you ask Mrs Stephen’s where she got her scent from,” the Navy haired man suggested but the red head rejected the idea, furrowing his brows and tapping his chin with an impatient index.

“Oh, no, that would be too simple, too easy, I want to make him suffer new ways, everyday,” Draeko sunk in his chair, his heart racing. Was this going to be his cross to bare? Was he to never know a normal day at College so long as these two bozos behind him wanted to make a spectacle out of him? He was already contemplating ways of not showing up, how often could one call in sick and just receive the homework via email? Was that possible?

Eventually, the class was being dismissed, and Draeko could feel the freedom as he practically sprinted out of his seat. “Thank god…” creative writing class? Out of the way. It’s fine he would only have to deal with them for the first period. His next class, another elective, would bring him a sense of relief. He could finally get away from, well, Alistar. That guy was weird.

Draeko had 3 classes Monday Wed Fri. Creative Writing, Culinary and English. With 4 classes Tues and Thurs being music theory, calculus, biology and women’s history. This meant one class out of the week, 3 times a week couldn’t hurt, right? It’s a big campus, it’s not like the two jocks had any reason to follow him and stalk him. Nah, Draeko was simply worried for nothing. After having asked his professor for the directions to his next classroom, Drae allowed the cool air of the winter season to caress him while he walked. It had just started getting cold, which meant bundling up extra and plenty of vitamin C gummies to keep the illnesses at bay.

Draeko crossed the campus to his second class of the day, feeling much more prepared to have a smoother hour than his last, he walked through the door and immediately found the best seat, to his judgement, up front. Only a few students had found their way in, so the mutt took this time to actually organize his things, and pull out a notebook. It was much more sufficient to be early than late.

Sitting back in his seat and doodling a small frog in his notebook whilst waiting he didn’t even notice, or hear the familiar clinks and chime of chains that echoed behind him until they stopped suddenly. “Two classes in a row with my new favorite squeaky toy? Kanai, you really did a good job picking out our elective classes this year,” snickering loudly it caused the mutt to freeze right in his chair. No. You’re kidding, it can’t be….

Surely enough, Draeko turned his head, and looked up. “Please…just leave me alone, ok?” He begged the red headed student before the man laughed, sliding into the table, or more specifically, the seat next to Drae. Kanai following close behind. In this class room, there were kitchen stations but also, table stations. Each table could seat 4. After Al, Kanai and Drae shoved themselves into a table, one last student trickled into their area, a shy girl with brown hair and green eyes avoided looking at the much taller more intimidating two.

“Now, pup, why on earth would I leave you alone? What? We can’t be friends?” The red head looked over at the mutt, his brows furrowed and his face almost looked broken hearted as he spoke so freely.

“Friends don’t do what you did!” still avoiding eye contact, the hybrid’s face fell to that of anger, what was this guys deal? Why did he have to pick on him of all people? He just wanted to have a good day.

“Oh come on, don’t be a buzz kill I was only having some fun,” the man playfully nudged his new acquaintance with his elbow, waggling his once furrowed brows.

“Well it wasn’t fun!” Draeko shoveled at Alistar, trying to get the man to keep his body, and limbs to himself as they sat there waiting for the class to start.

“Oh don’t worry kid, I’ll make it up to you….it’s only just begun,” and whatever he meant by that, caused the hairs to raise on the back of Draeko’s neck. He knew, these next few months, were going to be the hardest to get through than he could possibly imagine.

To Be Continued…

Author’s Notes: I KNOW…it’s kind of short, but in true fashion I can’t give you guys too much too quickly in the first part! However, we made some good headway! Next part I promise, is gonna be steamy. Al and Kanai are only going to up the ante as each chapter goes. 😈🤌🏻 Hope you guys enjoyed Part 1!