#here. I'll even tag it so you can avoid me screaming about this in the future if you want:

[musical-chick-13]

I'm serious a complex female character can do everything """right""" re: be charismatic and "cool" and thin and conventionally attractive and easy to sexualize (because that's the only way y'all can ever care about women apparently), AND IT STILL WON'T BE ENOUGH. SHE WILL STILL BE SHOVED ASIDE FOR A HALF-ASSED-WRITTEN MAN EVERY SINGLE TIME

[realcube]

HQ MEN AS YOUR BOSS ...with chemistry

characters ♡ oikawa, tsukishima, iwaizumi & kenma

tags/cw ♡ vaginal, dad!oikawa, implied virginity loss, breeding // degredation, dacryphilia // age gap, power imbalance // oral (giving), monetary incentive — minors dni! (sfw ver.)

♡ OIKAWA

needing a babysitter while his ex-wife is out of town and he has to go to training, oikawa is given a recommendation by his teammate. that is how you end up in his massive house by the ocean, watching his kids. before he left, he promised that if you did a good job, he'd give you the tip. you assume he simply misphrased that sentence — spanish isn't his first language, after all — but you soon realise he meant exactly what he said.

he gave you a lot more than just the tip, though. his whole length pierces into you, while your fingers try to grasp at the smooth, polished surface of the kitchen island counter he has you bent over. a futile attempt at coping with the furious billow of bliss he sends sweeping through you.

his rough grip on your waist; his hand tangled in your hair, pushing your face against the cold marble; the way he avoids moaning your name because he doesn't remember it. you know he's only using you for his own pleasure and to be able to brag to his teammates that he fucked the hot babysitter senseless in his kitchen last night while the kids were down. young and tight — maybe even a virgin — but he had the honour of pounding into your chaste pussy, using you as his personal cumdump.

"good girl." he groans through gritted teeth, relief rushing through him as he spills his seed inside you. he fucks you through his high, making your body shake with each sloppy thrust. only faltering when he notices his actions cause some of his cum to leak out of you. with his finger, he guides it back into your hole. he smirks at the implications of what he has just done, and leans down to whisper coarsely in your ear, "maybe if you get pregnant, i'll let you come live here with me. how does that sound?"

he smacks your ass and you yelp, at which he laughs.

♡ TSUKISHIMA

working for a strict boss like tsukishima at the museum was a lot of pressure. he watches you like hawk, piercing eyes burning a hole through you, waiting for you to mess up or do something slightly wrong so he can yell at and reprimand you. all your co-workers brush it off as him being a mean guy, since it's true he is like that with everyone, but they can't see how much harsher he is with you.

that's only because tsukishima is very strategic when it comes to you. he only tells you off when the staff lounge is empty; he'll sabotage your work relationships so they won't care that he makes you stay late; he makes rude quips about your 'slutty outfits' only when nobody else is around to hear. after he screams at you for the exhibits being dirty and demand you clean them, he corners you in the janitor's cupboard and locks the door.

tears stream down your face, some drip onto the ground while others are soaked up by the cement wall tsukishima has your cheek pressed up against while he takes you from behind. with one hand up your skirt, fondling your ass. the other placed on your hip, which he moves to wipe away your tears roughly with the back of his hands.

"stop crying." his cock batters your aching walls, while you squirm against him, a feeble attempt to position yourself so his tip brushes your g-spot. though, he puts a swift end to this by clamping his hand down on your hips. "if didn't want me to yell at you, then don't be fuckin' hopeless." he stammers out through groans. "should be grateful i've found a use for you. so be quiet an take it like a decent whore."

♡ IWAIZUMI

an a student of sport science, you're very lucky that one of the best athletic trainers in the business agreed to take you on as an apprentice. you both get along very well too; iwaizumi can be strict at times but you can tell it's because he really cares and wants you to succeed.

when he's not actively training you, he's still very kind. you both joke around some and he's always making small talk, you even learned that he used to be a volleyball player and he's friends with a couple pros! beyond that though, you never notice how his gaze lingers when you're demonstrating stretches; how he 'coincidentally' asks you to stay late for practise on days you're wearing a low cut top; and how he always keeps an ear out for your small — but sweet — whimpers of struggle as you tidy up the weights and dumbbells.

his eyes have been on you ever since you started work for him, but things only change the day he takes of his shirt while cleaning up, and you happen finally realise how hot he is. from there, it's impossible for you to keep your hands off, and he feels the same. next thing you know, he has you sprawled out on the gym floor, laying into you in missionary.

it's been a long day of training and he's already exhausted but he still gives it to you with everything he has, and more. his firm dick lowers in to you while your walls cling to him, swallowing him up. your arms are daped around his shoulders to stable yourself while his hips smash against yours, and from the sheer mix of pain and pleasure, your nails dig into his skin. not that he minds, it's all muscle back there, anyway.

he likes giving it to you rough. not that he wants to wreck that pretty pussy of yours too badly; it needs to be enjoyable enough that'll your beg him for another round. but he likes the way your tits bounce when he thrusts hard enough, it's an even better sight than you doing starjumps. one that he'll never get enough of.

♡ KENMA

being a stock-trader, ceo, pro-gamer and youtuber is all really hard work so of course kenma requires a personal assistant. when you show up for the interview, he instantly knows you're the one, but he doesn't want to give you such a heavy workload. therefore, he hires two people: he hands the other person all the difficult stuff, and leaves you free. all you need to do is stand about and look pretty. he never said that aloud, but it was made obvious when one of the jobs he gave you was to come into his office and paint your nails. and of course, being the diligent employee you are, you followed his orders.

it didn't take long for him to start experiencing 'favouritism' accusations but they were promptly shut down by a simple 'yes, and?' from kenma. any person with half a brain can tell how much special treatment you receive, he would be foolish to try to deny it.

but it's all worth it. you're like his gorgeous doll, his prized possession, it's his responsibilty to treat you with all the care and love you deserve. he didn't even want anything in return for it, getting to see you every day was reward enough. but when you come in to his office requesting a raise, that's when the negotiation begins.

your lips swell around his cock, having been going at it for so long, but he urges you to continue in his muted, whiny voice. he relaxes in his chair, head tossed back in pleasure while you work on his cock, bobbing your head up and down on it. "s' good.." he grumbles, hand finding it's way to your cheek.

his thumb brushes against your skin while your tongue rubs his length. he tastes umami and strong. cock so long that even when you go down on him, you can't reach the base, and the back of your mouth hurts from trying. but he grips your chin and lifts your face so you can meet his sultry gaze. amused by how cute you look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, he rasps, "there's a twenty thousand yen bonus if you deepthroat."

[moonlight1110]

Crawling back to you

ex-boyfriend!Ghost x Reader ; (Late) Valentines Special ;)

Your ex-boyfriend who comes banging at your door in the middle of the night. He desperately wants you back, and when he invites himself in, is there really nothing else you can do?

Tags: afab!reader, p in v, smut, nsfw, vaginal sex, rough sex (kinda idk), mating press, pathetic!Simon, far from canon simon, i write with badjhur's voice in my ear, not propfread, proofread anyway BC I hate typos

Notes: planned on writing something for valentines but uni fucked me sideways so im posting today <3

"What the hell..." You jump as three hard knocks come from your door, almost as if the person on the other side was just a second away from breaking it down.

You didn't need to go through your mental library to know who it was, you knew exactly who was at your door at this ungodly hour because who else in their right mind would show up uninvited except him.

With a grunt, you roll off of bed and trudge to your front door. A heavy feeling pressing down on your chest as you got closer and closer to the door, you contemplated if opening it was even a good option, but knowing who was on the other side, choosing to ignore him was going to be a poor decision on your part.

With an tired sigh, you grabbed the door knob, squeezing it as doubts ran through your mind, but you are snapped out of it when he knocks, even harder than before.

"What are you doing?!" You ask, trying not to scream at him to avoid receiving another noise complaint from your overbearing neighbors when you opened the door slightly to peek out the small crack of it. Standing on the other side was someone you knew all too well.

"Let me in" his voice was low as he looked down at you, dark eyes staring at you from the opening of his balaclava. "Please..." He took a step forward, placing a hand on your door, but you stayed firm. "Simon, you can't just come here in the middle of the night and expect me to let you in" you argued, hardening the hand that was holding your door.

"I miss you, baby, come on..." He pushed the door slightly, you knew you wouldn't stand a chance even if you tried your hardest to shut the door. With how strong and large Simon was, trying to fight back against him was next to impossible.

"Simon, please..." You looked at him, brows furrowing. However, even at your attempts to stand by your decision, there was a part of you that wanted him to just push your door open... An unexplainable feeling, you thought.

"Take me back... I'll do anything" He sounded desperate, his voice sounded unlike the person you thought you knew, he sounded hurt, vulnerable, not like the usual stone cold and stoic Ghost you knew.

"You broke up with me remember... You can't just go back on that when you want to" your expression hardened in contrast to his which softened as he looked into your eyes. He regretted it, deeply.

"I did, I know that but I didn't know I would be making the biggest mistake of my life, love..." He steps closer, pushing your door open just a bit again. "Don't call me that... Just don't" you shake your head in disapproval but that small part of you just misses the way he called you that, how it rolled off his tongue like honey, you missed it.

"Just let me in, let's talk... I miss you" the last part comes out as a mumbled plea as he pushes your door open finally, stepping inside like he never left. Those three words just made you want to jump over the boundaries you so desperately tried to build up, but all you could do was step aside and let him in, there was no point in fighting him.

"What's there left to talk about, Simon?" You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as Simon removed his shoes, it looked so familiar next to yours...

"I want you back, I can't fuckin' live without you..." His brows knit together as he looks down at you, reaching out but you step back with a disapproving look. "Then why did you end it in the first place if you were just gonna come back to me anyway..." Your hands fall to your sides with a defeated sigh leaving your lips.

"I told you, it was the distance, my work... I thought breaking up with you would be the best choice for the both f'us..." Ignoring your attempts at creating space between you, he steps closer, caging you between his arms as he leaned against the wall, effectively trapping you under him.

"I was wrong, baby... So fuckin' wrong..." he whispered, his eyes silently pleading for your to just listen. He leaned forward so close you could feel his hot breath even through the fabric of his balaclava.

"I didn't even want to leave you..." You started, your face scrunching as you remembered the events that happened the day he cut things off between the two of you. "You made up so many reasons, so many excuses... You put words in my mouth..." You looked away, feeling your chest tighten again at the recollection of your memories together. It hurt to bring up and remember but with seeing Simon standing in front of you again, it was impossible to push those thoughts away.

"I know, I know..." He took your chin inbetween his index and thumb, willing you to look back at him. His expression was one of guilt and desperation, that much was clear with the way he was looking at you.

"But I can't stand another day without you, been regretting that decision every fuckin' day, love..." He leans in, snaking a hand around your waist. You want to pull away, to push him off and tell him to fuck off from you forever but you don't, you just cant find it in you to push him away when all you wanted was to be with him.

"Those months away from you felt like an eternity, don't wanna feel that anymore..." He pulls you closer, holding you tightly against his chest with his nose now inhaling the scent of your hair from the crook of your neck.

"We can't... This is the type of shit that complicates things, Simon..." you place your hands on his chest as if you even wanna push him off you. "I don't care..." He groans and pulls his balaclava off, breathing against your neck. It makes you squirm the way his hands are travelling down now, you missed it more than you were willingly to openly admit to him anyway, but that's no issue for how your body is responding.

"Fuck if it means we'll get complicated, I need you back..." He kisses at your neck, still familiar with all the spots that just made you melt. "Can't be away from you for another fuckin' day, baby..." He groans, pinning you against the wall by your hips, grinding a knee to your clothed cunt.

"Just say the word and I'll leave..." He groans, giving your throat a good lick all the way to your collarbone as his hands found your ass, kneading like he owned it. "I'll leave and I'll never come back, I won't bother you... But y'need to tell me..." His lips drag along your shoulder as he pulls you closer on his thigh, "Tell me... Tell me y'never wanna see me again, push me away..." He mumbles against the side of your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat with the way he was talking to you, you knew Simon was a man who was true to his word and once you'd tell him to leave, he would.

"C'mon..." he retracts from your neck and pulls back to look you in the eyes, his brows are furrowed and his eyes are blown out as his eyes flicker over your features like he's trying to memorize every single detail before you told him to leave.

"I..." you scramble to find the words, you wanna tell him to leave but you also want him to stay, you two didn't even end on that much of a bad note, it was a misunderstanding, a poor decision which was made in the heat of the moment...

"Don't leave..." You give in to your emotions, just seeing Simon again after your breakup hurt like hell, but god would you curse yourself if you allowed him to leave again... You couldn't take that, seeing him walk out again, leaving you for the second time.

"Fuck..." He groans as he connects your lips, his hands are pulling at you and pinning you against the wall. It's a passionate and desperate kiss from him, which you return with your own, full of want and the same desperation you craved would be quenched for such a long time. No one did it like him, no one ever loved you like Simon Riley ever did.

Your arms find his neck as your head tilts, allowing Simon to push his tongue past your lips. He doesn't let up, doesn't get up for air, he just fucking wants you, wants to take you right then and there with how much he misses you.

His hands cup your ass as he lifts you up against the all and you wrap your legs around his torso as he finally pulls away from the kiss. "I need you, baby... Fuckin' missed you too much..." he practically growled as he sucked on your neck, walking to your bedroom.

"Simon, calm down..." You mumbled as he set you down on the bed, you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating but that only made him chuckle. "Can't calm down when I have you in my arms again, love" He stared down at you as he leaned back up, removing his shirt quickly.

"Missed you so much..." He whispered against your ear when he dove back down, making space for himself between your legs as he hovered on top of you with his arms on either side of your head. "Missed the way you feel around me..." He hummed while his hands trailed down your waist, to your hips, then just above the hem of your flimsy sleeping shorts.

"Did y'think 'bout me too? hm?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his hand travelled under your shorts, his middle finger now circling on your wet clit through your panties. You didn't notice how you ruined your underwear until you felt how slick and uncomfortable it was when Simon pressed harder against your clit.

"Yeah... I did..." you whispered breathily, back arching at the feeling of Simon's thick fingers pleasuring you. He smirks, taking the opportunity to kiss and suck at your neck. "Mmm... Yeah?" He chuckles against your throat, parting your slick covered panties to the side to finally tease at your wet pussy.

"Fuck baby... She missed me didn't she?" he laughs, looking down at the way his hand moved from under your shorts. "Fuckin' pussy missed me too, huh?" He chuckles, as he pushes his thick finger inside you, making you gasp and grip at his arm.

"Simon!" you shut your eyes, back arching as he pressed gentle kisses against your throat. "Relax baby... need to prepare you again, been too long since I've fucked this pretty little pussy..." He coos, adding another finger to stretch you out, curling them so deliciously inside you.

"Fuck... I-" you whimper, sucking in a breath as he finds that spot inside you that just makes you break, he still knows of course, knows every single spot and every single way to make you crumble and submit to him. "I'm gonna cum, Si..." You whisper breathlessly, hands shaking around Simon's arm weakly.

Simon doesn't say anything except give you a cruel chuckle when he waits for the perfect time, just when you're about to cum to take his fingers out and it makes you shoot him a nasty glare. "Why did you do that?!" You whined, but your voice weakens at the sight of the hard bulge under his pants.

"Don't want you cummin' on anything but my cock tonight, love..." he chuckles dangerously, sitting on his knees to unbuckle his pants. He looks down at you with a hunger in his eyes, licking his lips as he finally rolls the zipper down. "C'mon, don't just stare" He smirks, snapping you out of your trance. "Right..." you blink, moving closer to him.

"Good..." he praises as he watches you tug his pants and boxers down together and tossing it down the side of the bed. "Fuck..." He hisses when he's finally free, his dick rock hard and heavy, twitching as beads of precum roll down from the tip. Your breathing quickens when you see it, it's bigger than you remember, thick and running with veins you wish you could memorize.

"On your back..." Simon commands, his voice low as he wraps a hand around his shaft to stroke his dick slowly. "But..." you look into his eyes but he shakes his head with a mean smirk when he looks at you. "As much as I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours, that's gonna have to wait another time" He chuckles, pushing you down on your back by your shoulder.

"I need t'fuck you, baby... Need t'feel you 'round my dick again..." he growls, watching the way your face is flushed and your legs are spread out on either side of his torso. He strokes his dick in his hands as he hums, using his free hand to slide your shorts and panties over your legs, throwing it with his pants.

"Fuckin' hell..." he groans when his eyes finally see your bare pussy, your clit twitching and your entrance clenching around nothing. It makes him fist his cock harder as he runs his free hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and rolling it down in little circles.

"Stop teasing..." you say through gritted teeth as one of your hands grip the sheets under you and the other pressed against Simon's chest. "M'not teasing" He chuckles, tapping his dick on your clit a few times. "Just shut up and fuck me already, Simon..." You whine, slapping his chest pathetically.

"Gettin' feisty now, eh?" he laughs lowly as a low satisfied rumble comes from deep in his throat when he grinds his cock against your pussy, letting it catch your slick. "Need to take it slow, love... I don't wanna hurt you" Simon groans, aligning his tip with your entrance.

"Oh... god-" you breathe out matched with a long moan from Simon as pushes the tip in. It makes a lewd, sort of wet sound when he enters you. It makes your head spin in the way it makes Simon throw his head back as he pushes deeper until he's completely inside you with a hard thrust.

He rolls his thumb over your clit, waiting for your breath to steady. "Doin' so good, baby... Taking me so well..." He coos, pressing on your clit as his eyes narrow on the sight of your body, all hot just for him. "M-move, Si..." You whimper out, closing your eyes tightly and adjusting to the feel of Simon inside you again after so long.

Simon hums while he rolled his hips, slowly thrusting his cock in and out. It's slow so he can let you adjust, help you remember how good he stretches you out that it makes you all dumb and pliable for him. "Mmm, yeah... Feels so good, love" he grunts, his hips moving just a tad bit faster.

He thrusts all the way to the hilt every single time, and it feels like he goes deeper and deeper with every thrust he gives you. He squeezes at your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he parts your legs even more, putting you in a mating press.

It makes you whimper the way you're starting to feel the slight pain of Simon's body pressed right into you. He's like an animal now, fucking you in such a primal way when he growls in your ear, encouraged by the delicious moans you give him and how you squirm and say his name in your breathy, fucked out voice.

"That's it, taking me like such a good fuckin' girl" He chuckles, driving his hips harder, the sound of his skin slapping against your cunt almost drives you crazy. He leans up, letting your legs rest as he massages them gently, a sharp juxtaposition from how hard he's fucking your weeping cunt.

"Needed this so bad, baby..." He groans, pulling your legs around his torso as he leans down to kiss at your neck. You can hear him mumbling sweet little nothings in your ear as his hands grip at your thighs and the soft skin of your waist.

"Tell me y'missed me... I wanna hear it" He mumbles against your neck, moaning lowly. He sounded so calm and so gentle yet the way his cock was filling you up and stretching you out so good was far from gentle. "Tell me y'missed this dick, baby, c'mon..." He hums, his hand travelling up to play with your tits.

"I-I mis-" You started, but the way Simon was fucking you so good made your head spin you couldn't even string a proper sentence together. He laughed, grazing his teeth over the skin of your shoulder, "Awe can't even speak anymore?" He teases, slowing his hips down and it makes you groan in disapproval.

"Why'd you slow down..." you whine, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. "Wanna hear you say you missed me first" He chuckled. It was bad enough that he slowed down, but it's even worse when he pulls out and looks down at you with a cruel smirk, stroking the cock that was supposed to be making you cum.

"Tell me how bad you missed me, baby, you can do it" He laughs lowly and he doesn't look away from you as he fists his cock to the look of pleasure on your face.

"I-I missed you Simon, so much-" you moaned out desperately as your pussy clenched on nothing. You were ready to beg for his cock again if he needed you to but you didn't have to worry for long when he turned you around, stuffing your pussy with his fat cock from behind.

"Good girl... Such a good fuckin' girl, aren't ya?" His words are so dirty it makes you tighten around him with a stifled moan as he fucks you fast and deep, not giving you a chance to adjust to the new angle he's pounding you in.

You can't respond and all you can even do is moan and take Simon's hard dick stuffing you over and over again. It doesn't take long for you to feel that tight knot forming in your stomach and Simon can feel it too from the way you're starting to tighten around him.

"Gonna cum, baby?" He asks you with a drawn out hum as he kneads your ass, watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.

You nod, moaning into your pillows as you clawed at the sheets. "Cum for me then... Cum on my dick..." He coos, pushing your hips down to give himself a better view of your ass. Your arms give out and you're practically being fucked into the bed.

Simon chuckles, taking your wrists and pulling them towards him suddenly. It makes you gasp when you feel the pressure building in your shoulders when Simon tightens his grip on your wrists.

"Si... M'close..." Your voice comes out choked out and broken, spiking up every time he bullies his cock harshly inside you and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Don't need to tell me baby, just cum f'me..." He mutters breathlessly, now holding your wrists behind your back with one hand as the other lands a harsh slap to your ass, making you whimper.

You gasp as tears rolled down your cheeks from how overwhelmed you were. "Simon... Simon..." your voice shakes as you struggle against his grip on your wrists. "Do it baby, cum for me..." He hums, giving your ass a loving squeeze.

You dig your nails into the sheets when you finally feel that knot in your stomach unravel, you feel tingly all over as you cum on Simon's cock with a loud moan of his name. It makes you whine when he doesn't stop, chasing his orgasm now when he feels your pussy tighten around him so good.

"Fuck baby... That's it, that's it..." His groan turns into a drawn out moan as he throws his head back. With the way you were clenching down on him, it made him sloppy.

Simon was sounding whiny now while he chased his high. His hands were squeezing your hips as he held you down and fucked you harder into the bed. He was babbling now, about how good you felt and how you were such a good girl. All for him.

"Feel's so good, lovie... Let me cum inside, please?" He whined through gritted teeth, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. "Please let me cum inside? Please, baby... Please..." He moans into your skin desperately, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.

"Yes... Yes, inside..." You nod desperately, feeling overstimulated after just coming down from your high and now being used by Simon to chase his own climax.

"Oh fuck..." His voice shakes as he cums inside you, painting your walls white with his cum as he gives you a few more hard thrusts to make sure you take all of it.

"Thank you, love... Thank you" he whispers after some time had passed, giving your hips an appreciative squeeze as he slowly pulled out of you. You whined when he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless as you felt his hot cum drip from your pussy to your clit.

"So beautiful..." Simon whispers as he lays beside you, pulling you close to him in a warm hug with your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around his waist and means his head down on your shoulder to give you gentle kisses.

"I love you..." He whispered close to your ear as his hands caressed your body soothingly. You hummed in content as you relaxed in his arms and allowed yourself to move a bit closer.

"I love you too..." You say quietly, rubbing his arms which were wrapped around you. Simon hums and kisses your hair, lingering there to take in your scent. "I won't leave again... I promise" he mumbles against your hair, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly.

You nod, looking over your shoulder to give him a warm smile, you were too tired and spent to talk but you knew Simon would be able to know what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes.

He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to your lips briefly. "And you know what's funny?" He laughed softly, raising a hand to caress your cheek, "It's Valentine's day" he looked over to the window and you followed his eyes.

The sun was starting to rise and it made you scoff that Simon really came back to you at the perfect timing.

"We're staying in, that's for sure" you laughed quietly, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as sleep slowly overtook you, but you didn't feel lonely anymore. Simon was back, and he knew he would never leave again.

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love

toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.

he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.

the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.

fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.

this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.

he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.

he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.

despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.

he knows it's selfish.

toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.

after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.

he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 

the expression on his features falls.

it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.

she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…

a deadbeat.

he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.

she deserves more than me.

he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 

he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.

except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.

belonged.

belonged.

it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.

a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.

“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 

he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?” 

he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.

"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.

his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.

"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”

“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.

you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”

toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”

you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.

“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”

his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.

you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.

the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist

“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”

please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.

he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”

“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”

toji shakes his head.

“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”

you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.

he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”

toji drops his head and sighs.

“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”

you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”

toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”

the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”

toji blinks back his surprise.

“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”

you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”

toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."

he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.

your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.

"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.

"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"

he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.

"toji?"

his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.

you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.

"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."

""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."

your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.

[blitzwhore]

I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭

😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.

I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.

This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).

Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.

At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.

How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:

Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!

If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.

If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.

If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).

If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.

And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.

All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!

And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:

We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌

[multifandomwhore-003]

Random Hazel Callahan headcanons that have been rotting my brain for the past couple of days:

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x female! reader

Summary: Not needed

Genre(s): a little angsty at first, after that's it's just pure fluff

Warnings: mentions of trauma and maladaptive daydreaming

A/N: I'M GONNA WRITE MORE FOR HER BECAUSE I NEED IT SO STAY TUNED, also I listened to False God by Taylor Swift the entire time I wrote this.

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk , join tag list here

• She has horrible listening skills, usually her house has been a pretty noisy and chaotic place, even before her parents divorced, so she's learned to mute the outside world.

• It tends to annoy pretty much everyone else outside the fight club, the only exception being PJ, she perhaps got annoyed more than anyone.

• When you first noticed you had to repeat yourself at least five times whenever she was around, you tried to come up with different ways for her to keep up, like texting her as you spoke so she could read it as much as she needed to.

• Later on you found out it wasn't just about losing track of a conversation, as you asked to borrow one of her headphones one time, you were shocked her ears weren't bleeding right then and there.

"Fucking hell, Hazel! Are you trying to break your ears or something?" your ears hurt for a second.

"It's not loud at all" She placed them on her neck.

"Baby, I can hear the music coming out of those things like a concert speaker,"

• You decided to invite her over to your house as often as possible, demanding a no-headphones rule.

"Why not?!" she complained.

"Because you're gonna be completely deaf at the age of 40!"

"And you'll be there to teach me sign language, right?" she hugged your waist.

"You're saying you prefer not hearing my voice for the rest of our lives?" you lifted a brow.

• The realazation dawned on her.

• To this day she hasn't worn headphones a single day in her life.

• Maladaptive daydreaming is also something she struggles with, not as much now as she used to in middle school and the first two years of high school, but it still happens sometimes.

• You found out when you decided to surprise her by coming to her house one day

• Mrs. Callahan said she couldn't get in contact with Hazel, for whatever reason.

• Most likely her phone turned off since it was out of battery.

• So she texted you she was gonna be missing all night, permitted you to stay the night, and told you to take care of Hazel.

• You found her in the kitchen yelling, it sounded as if she was yelling at someone.

"Are you ever gonna choose me over a booty call?! How is it that Jeff's dick is more important than me?! Your daughter! You fucking pushed me out and you still can't even ask me how my grades are doing and shit!"

• Your first thought was —Her mom's plans must've been canceled—

• As you approached the room as quietly as possible, you looked through the rim of the entrance, there was no one.

"Hazel," you spoke quietly through her screams.

A shiver went down her spine, he face turned white, she blinked a couple of times before turnind her head, "How much of that did you hear?" she avoided your eyes.

"I've never heard you like that," was all you could mutter as you approached her slowly and then embraced her in a hug, "I know you're not insane by the way," you whispered in her hair.

She began to cry.

• She didn't want to talk about it for the next few days

• When she did, she stumbled upon her words, talked too fast, and teared up every once in a sentence.

"Call me first," you cupped her face, "I'll never judge you for whatever you have to say,"

• She wanted to kiss you right then and there, but just rested her forehead on yours, an act of ultimate intimacy.

• I could get into the divorced parents' trauma for hours because same

• But for now I'll move on to the happy part

• Physical touch is the absolute most pure form of love she can give

• If she's not hugging your waist at all times, she's holding your hand, resting her head on your chest, shoulders, legs, etc. pretty much everywhere she can

• If you have long or medium hair she'll attempt to braid your hair, keyword attempt

• If you have short hair she'll buy little elastic ponytails to tie them around your head everywhere she can

• Her reasoning behind this is that her favorite plants are cactuses

• That's it, that's all the reasons she needs

• If you happen to be bald she'll rub your head while singing the chorus to Diamonds by Rihanna

• She plays ukelele

• She knows how to make a few origami figures and if she tries a new one, as crumbled and sweaty as it is she gives it to you

• You have a whole shelf in your room dedicated to every piece of folded paper she's ever done for you

• If you're more of a fem! girl, she'll try something of yours whenever she comes over and stare at her reflection for hours

"Good thing, god didn't make me straight, she knew I would be a menace,"

• You can only roll your eyes and laugh at her twirling and pretending to dance ballet in your dresses and skirts

• If she happens to go shopping without you, she'll try something you'll like and send you the photo after

"If it looks this good on me, imagine how AMAZING it'll look on you,"

• She once asked you to put makeup on her, she'll say she was just curious how she'd look

• She wasn't lying, but she also didn't mention she just wanted to recreate this picture:

• If you happen to be more of a masc! girl, you'll trade clothes as often as you can think

• More than once you have arrived at school with something she likes and just drags you to the bathroom to for you to make the exchange

• It's not her clothes and your clothes anymore, everything you own is hers and vice versa

• More often than not you're no longer sure what used to be only yours

• This goes for accessories and shoes as well, even if they don't fit her, she'll fill them up with toilet paper until they fit just fine

• You'll match AT LEAST once a week, as per her request of course

• She tries all kinds of chips (or crisps for my British luvs) she has tried every flavor and seasoning, but her favorites and the flaming hot ones, even if she ends up chugging your waterbottle after finishing the bag

• Although her parents are rich and taught her from a young age to be a precise wine taster, she's a tequila and vodka girl

• She hates gloomy and rainy days because they bring down her mood, but spending the day binge-watching cheesy movies and stuffing her stomach with all the snacks o her house makes it up

• She's ABSOLUTE SHIT at Karaoke, but my god does she have the spirit

• Her go-to song is Lies by Fleetwood Mac, but if she's drunk enough to gain confidence she'll request Easy On Me by Adele

•  If she insists for long enough and you decide to sing with her, she 100% will try to recreate the following musical numbers:

• Lay all you love on me -Mamma Mia

• Every duet there is in Teen Beach Movie, her favorite childhood movie

• The cellblock tango -Chicago and Ex-Wives -from Six, if the rest of the fight club joins as well

• Popular from Wicked, strangely enough, she's Glinda

• Seventeen -Heathers

• Candy Store -Heathers featuring Isabel as Heather Mc Namara, Josie as Martha Dunnstock, and PJ as Veronica (She was heavily forced to after Brittany suggested it)

• Smooth Criminal -The Glee cast cover

• If you're a good singer, or at least a decent one, at the end of the song she'll hype you up more than anyone in the crowd, even carry you (this also applies to my plus size! lovelies, DON'T YOU WORRY, she has muscles)

• If you're a bad singer, then you'll be shit together, the worse your voices sound, the better you'll enjoy it

• Onto the kissing and overall more stereotypical relationship stuff, aka the not-so-comfortable part of my asexual-spectrum girlies.

• As previously shown in the original material

• Kissing is slow and passionate, she likes to enjoy your lips as much as possible, taking in every movement, taste, and breath

• Hands on your jaw  and neck EVERY FUCKING TIME

• The first few times you offered her some chapstick or lipstick, or lipgloss, or lip oil, or anything, she would kiss you making you chuckle in surprise

• Now you don't even need to ask, she'll just be like

"Hey, your lips look beautiful," and peck you on the lips

• If you're alone it definitely turns into a whole makeout session

• She just claims it tastes too good not to do it

• Every once in a while she'll hug you from behind and aggressively kiss your cheek

• Good luck kisses before every test

• Her favorite kind of dates are picnic dates

• She takes pictures of the sky whenever she feels it matches your vibe

• She takes A LOT of pictures of you ANYTIME, ANYWHERE, she even went as far as to buy a film camera because they make everything more magical

• She reads A LOT

• She obviously knows too much about social injustices and everything regarding that realm, but she likes other things as well

• Avid fantasy reader, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES,

• Going back to this need for escapism, she was heavily raised by George R.R. Martin and Leigh Bardugo

• Definitely screamed, jumped, and overall looked like she was in a sugar rush when both Game of Thrones and Shadow and Bone came out

• She wasn't exactly allowed to watch Game of Thrones at the time it came out, so she watched when she was 16 instead

• Shadow and Bone, however, oh boy, it was whole event

• She cosplayed Sturmhond and made you cosplay as Zoya

.

.

.

That's it for now children, if I come up with anything else I'll do a part two or even better write something more complete

[olderthannetfic]

Hope it's okay to ask here, I love your blog and how you give clear, concise answers to questions without assuming bad faith so hopefully it's ok to throw my own "warning tag" question in here, TIA for the answer! So, childhood friends-to-lovers is like one of my favourite romance tropes to write in fanfic. I've done a LOT of ships with that, but I've never actually written anything more uh...spicy, shall we say. Until after the ship were both adults. I was raised Extremely Fundie and wasn't very sex positive for a LONG time as a result but now that I'm older & out of that environment I've grown a lot. So because of religious upbringing I just avoided writing smut before both characters were 18 "to be safe". In a recent new fandom I'm in I have a character who I feel like very much WOULD have explored her sexuality before she turned 18. The partner in this context is her childhood friend so they grew up together and are probably at most like 3 years apart, if that. So my question is, would I tag that as Underage because, even tho they're close together in age (ie. both "minors" in that sense) they ARE Underage or is the Underage tag on AO3 solely for Adult/Minor ships? (not judging writers of Adult/Minor pairings either, I'll add. It's just not my scene and I don't want to give people the wrong impression in the tags, either way around, whenever I inevitably write & post their First Time fic, yk?) -🌸 (hope its okay to tag this so I can maybe find it later? I don't wanna ask this off anon in case I get blasted by That(tm) side of fandom at large who might see my username and then come into my DMs/inbox to scream "P*do!!" at me, but I DO wanna be able to see the answer when it comes up, esp if I am not on tumblr the day that it does haha)

--

Ah. You're still thinking about that tag in a more cultural sense, but that's not what it's for. If you dig through the FAQs and such, the explanation is in there somewhere, but to summarize, it refers to:

On page depictions of sexual activity including at least one character under 18.

(So if they just kiss or you just say she had sex but you don't show intercourse, oral, etc. on the actual page, it doesn't count.)

AO3's underage tag is actually to protect users who live in jurisdictions where <18 sexytimes are banned from art or banned unless there's ~artistic merit~ or whatever. Around the time AO3 was starting up was when Australia was having a big upheaval over such things, so it was on people's minds in the Anglosphere.

Whether the sex is problematique or age gap or whatever doesn't matter. The actual age of consent or laws around sex in the real world location these characters are in, if any, does not matter. Your 17-year-old UK characters fucking still need the warning or CNTW even though that's laughable in context. 18 tends to be the age most used in international law for... like... porn star ages and such, so 18 is what AO3 went with. Never mind that it's not necessarily the age of majority or that age of consent laws can depend on partner age, etc. etc.

Unlike noncon/graphic violence/character death, this warning isn't there primarily because readers find the topic squicky.

It's a legal ass-covering thing.

[xxsycamore]

Hi! Hope you've been well <3 I want to tell you that I completely adore your writing, it's very detailed and I love it. I hope it's ok to request something for the Late Spring Tryst #6 Gilbert from Ikemen Prince. I can only imagine one of his pictures/events where both MC and Gilbert get caught under the rain. Thank youuu <3

Wait, wait, I didn't say that I'll be taking requests! 😳 But maybe I can try coming up with something for you...👀✨ Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you can continue to enjoy my works, have a great day! ❤❤❤

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

↬ 🖤 Gilbert takes care of his naughty little rabbit, who doesn't mind getting drenched in the rain to have him...

Gilbert von Obsidian x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Sex in the Rain; Rough Sex; Outdoor Sex; Vaginal Penetration; Vaginal Fingering; Creampie; Biting; Messy Sex; Dirty talk; Verbal Humiliation (mild); Aftercare • wordcount: 1, 713 • masterlist

Running barefoot on the tiled-floor corridors, barely missing your step down the staircase; the following loud creaking of a heavy wooden door being pushed open. It all swirls together in a colorful haze - the world before your eyes, the sounds and then the emotions; and then the sensation joins too, of being hit with a portion of sobering cool air as the outside is unforgiving. Even when you stop on your tracks and fixate the figure on the path ahead, your heart remains of someone running, beating so madly inside your chest.

Your soul is loud in parade, yet the skies are mourning silently. Why must they weep and rain down on the earth that Gilbert is walking? It's his return, yet the clouds disobediently refuse to part and make way even for someone as mighty and daunting as him. Very well then; you shall differ and be met with praise.

"And here I thought I'd surprise you by avoiding the main gates. Could it be that my little rabbit can sense me approaching? Have you missed me that much?"

Surprise you? If he really meant to sneak up on you, he would've done so without a problem; a longing gaze cast randomly past the windowpane was enough to spot him cross under the rose arch marking the entrance to the garden that is facing the back of the castle. It's some kind of test, perhaps, yet you willfully focus on the part resonating with your own version of this rushed meeting holding a deeper meaning, the signal coming from within, like you knew he was coming back early. Something akin to the concept of soulmates. Sweet thoughts rushing in, you quickly make your way across the cobblestone path marking the final meters separating you from him, with open arms. It's a little rough on your bare feet, yet the cold doesn't get to you.

Gilbert's embrace is a source of scorching warmth, but it strangely can't be found anywhere on his skin or under his heavy and warm attire. Like a spark that is needed to light a fuse, when you hug him, the fire envelops you.

Gilbert coos and returns the embrace, his arms resting on your shoulder and your head and act like a temporary shelter from the rain.

"Too taken aback to use words? I understand, for I, too, was overly eager to meet you again. I fantasized about you on the way back a lot, you know."

A lone butterfly flutters in the pit of your belly, not having sought refuge from the rain... The screaming reminder of something takes shape and washes off the innocent happiness of witnessing Gilbert's early return in one strong wave. Would he bring it up?

Looking up at him, you notice what the rain has done to him - dark hair sticking wetly to his cheek, begging you to reach and gently move it out of the way for him; one water drop running down the soaked eyepatch, right at the side of his tall nose, soon to meet the corner of his lips. Your throat is so dry, you realize, gulping down.

"You're out in the rain in that flimsy gown... how reckless, little rabbit..."

His glove-covered hands don't carry the warmth of human flesh, but the goosebumps are inevitably cast upon each and every millimeter of your skin that they graze. Your clothing doesn't do much in your favor, and that's where you want to correct him - it's not recklessness, it's impatience. But he'll interpret that wrong, too.

A harsh groping of your rear.

"What are you- doing-"

"I told you in my letter, didn't I? I'll devour you as soon as you enter my sight."

Fingers sinking into the flesh, the only thing keeping the gossamer from tearing apart under Gilbert's fingernails being the barrier made of black leather - much like the retractable claws of a big cat that simply means to play around and not cause harm. Not that Gilbert cares about your girly little gown, but marring the skin underneath should be a privilege saved for his teeth alone.

"Mm... rain mixes with your scent better than I imaged. Oh yes, I'll definitely will be taking you right here and now."

The reality of his words brings forth another wave - now without a doubt, arousal - over your abdomen and perhaps it's a little embarrassing to whine so early on, but it's too much. He wrecks you with words alone.

He turns you in his embrace, your backside sticking to his front, and the way he grips your jaw still can't distract you enough from the feeling of something hard pressing against your backside.

Hand moving your chin ever so gently, he urges on.

"Tell me, little rabbit, where should I bend you over? How about that tree over there? Or maybe you prefer the rose arch? Tsk, tsk, if only you would've waited a little longer, you could've been rolling in the silk of our bed instead, but alas... you're a naughty girl that would go to borderline animalistic lengths to have me inside her as soon as possible."

It should be more humiliating and definitely less arousing, the way he accuses of those things, yet you give him a further confirmation by grinding back against his tall frame. The little hairs at the back of your neck straighten up with the portion of warm air that leaves his lips, along with the amused chuckle he produces.

It's a mystery how he walks you to where he wants you - feeling a lot like a marionette guided by his hand - and you envy him for remaining so collected. Yet it's in the little things that you find an impatience of his own. The unfastening of his belt, the fingers finding your entrance to prepare for likely rough penetration... it's a little rushed, somehow. It tells you enough about how he feels.

"Aha, so you're already soaked... you can't blame the rain on this one, I'm afraid."

The thin material sticking to your legs has done nothing to make you feel clothed, yet when Gilbert hikes it up, you can't help but squirm. You're outside and practically naked; the spot is hidden from sight with tall branches hanging over the rose arch, yet the thrill is still tremendously present. The blunt head of Gilbert's cock presses against your freshly-fingered entrance, and in a flash all thoughts and feelings unrelated to seeking pleasure dissipate in the spring rain.

"You're sucking me right in... Aww, maybe I should tease you more and pull out before I bottom out all the way in? What sounds would you make then?"

You whimper and throw your head left and right to beg him to reconsider, hoping that it wouldn't make him more amused instead - if he's met with such apparent and vocal protest at the bare suggestion of it, the real thing must be a spectacle to see...but Gilbert can be generous too. If it's hidden behind his own pending need to feel your insides wrapped nice and tight around the entire length of his cock, that's it.

Your loud groan is not drowned in the rain and your hands are too busy keeping you upright to help muffle it, and it's good that they are, because Gilbert sets a steady rhythm right away, threatening to break your fragile balance. His thrusts are deep and hard; if there was a part of you not crazed with the strong feeling of him, now surely there's none. You feel him in your bones.

The target of his love bites this time is your left ear, and it means that you get to hear even the littlest noise of purring approval rising in his throat - the slight pain is coated in strange pleasure, as you've grown addicted to it, your tastes and preferences, your morality, your whole mentality, it's all bent and molten and reshaped into something dreadful and carrying his name.

"Are you going to be good and take my load inside you?"

He doesn't have to ask; it's absurd to think of turning around and wrapping your lips around him when you'll do a poor job of serving him with your mind emptied of coherent thoughts and muscle memory is nowhere near good enough for him. Your pussy clamps down on him, hands gripping the chiseled white stone harder until your knuckles start to resemble it in color. The rain makes the smooth surface of it more slippery, as if to rob you of the little stability you have.

"Just as I thought."

Gilbert is relentless and he presses up so deep inside it almost hurts; all in pursuit of his own pleasure. He hisses and finds it right there in your core, releasing his load inside you. It's scorching and it hits you deep inside, and though you want to fuck yourself back onto his cock, you stay and accept it obediently. Perhaps enjoying it like that is better than the pathetic instinct of your body, and Gilbert is doing you a favor you have to be thankful for. Either way, your pleasure peaks and you moan out his name amidst a strong climax.

The bite on your ear is kissed better, and the cock inside you withdrawn not long after. You didn't realize the stability you were so scared of losing was called Gilbert all along. The rose arch does nothing to hold you upright, and you feel your knees hitting the ground.

"Oh no, little bunny, you'll get all dirty in the mud... did I fuck you too hard and now you can't stand up on your own?"

The air is not enough for breathing, replying to him is out of the question. An unmistakable sensation is registered inbetween your legs, and you realize that Gilbert is watching you leak his cum, legs parted helplessly as you kneel on the wet, hard ground.

"You poor thing... You played in the rain and got all drenched up, didn't you? I guess that's your naughty way of making me pity you, so I can take care of you. But don't worry. I, too, look forward to spending some more special time with you while I warm and clean you up in the bath."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @gilbertvonobsidian @aceuuuuu @atelier-the-atelier Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[rayslittlekitten]

Spooky Time

“You Got This” Masterlist

A/N: I think writing "My First Night" kicked up some old feels for this universe. Here is a wholesome little nugget of them much younger. Jax and Opie as 14 and reader is 12.

Rating: T

Word Count: 806

Pairing: Teenager!Jax Teller & Preteen GN! Reader/OC; Teenager!Opie Winston & Preteen GN! Reader/OC (reader is F in the series, but this particular fic can be read as GN)

Plot: While Opie taunts you for being scared, Jax protects you.

Contains: sibling banter, cursing, protective!Jax, spoopy stuff

You stare up at the man-made haunted house towering in front of you. The fog, flashing lights and sounds of terror coming from a big speaker has you rethinking about tagging along with your brother and Jax. Since you were little, you've always followed them around and wanted to do everything they did. This is no exception. Every year during this time, you would all come to the County Halloween fair where they would have hayrides and all sorts of spooky activities. You always went on the kiddie rides, corn mazes, and have seemingly mild fun, but since Jax and Opie just started high school, they want to do older kids stuff, including the haunted house. This was one thing you always avoided, but you were sure you wanted to do this because Jax and Opie does.

"Come on, what are you waiting for?" Jax nudges you.

"I... I don't really feel too good. I think I ate too much funnel cake. I'll just wait for you guys," you reply.

"UGH! You know we can't leave you by yourself. You said you wanted to tag along so you have to do everything we're doing," your brother jumps in, annoyed.

A scream from inside the house spooks you, making you jump.

"Aww, are you scared?" Jax teases.

"N-no," you lie.

Opie rolls his eyes and huffs.

"Come on, it won't be that scary. I'll protect you, squirt."

Jax puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in closer, giving the top of your head a little tousle before guiding you inside the haunted house and following Opie who is leading the group. Once you enter, you cautiously walk through the loud and dark maze. Opie suddenly jumps and screams, making you shriek and grasp onto Jax, but then your brother starts laughing.

"Haha! Spooked ya!" He says, pointing at you.

"It's not funny!" You throw a weak punch at his arm.

"Then why am I laughing?" he taunts.

"Alright, come on, keep it moving," Jax jumps in to break up the sibling squabble, pushing Opie along.

"Stay close behind me, alright?" Jax tells you, guiding you behind him.

You grab onto the back of his shirt as you all continue to walk through. Your eyes dart around while being super vigilant and alert, also looking ahead at your brother in front to see if anything might scare him. The creepy music and inability to see things well in front of you add to the fright. A random hiss from behind you makes you curl up against Jax's back even more. You feel Jax's hand reach back, touching your hip like he's feeling around for something. He then turns to look over his shoulder.

"Hold my hand."

You look down and slip your hand into his while the other still fists his shirt. When Jax turns a corner, he takes a sudden small step back, stumbling into you, as his free arm guides you to remain behind him and now stepping sideways.

"Stay behind me," he instructs you.

You continue to follow him while using him as a shield. The sound of a chainsaw next to you makes you shift in the opposite direction. You feel Jax's hand squeezing yours to let you know you're safe. This feels like a never-ending maze. You start to notice a scent that comforts you. Leaning into Jax's shirt, you stick your nose into it and take a sniff. You don't know if it's the laundry detergent Gemma uses or something else, but it's distracting you from all the terror. After a few more turns and focusing your attention on Jax's scent, you finally make it out of the haunted house unscathed.

"Was that it? See, it wasn't so bad, was it? There wasn't anything really-- AHH!"

Opie gets frightened by a clown seemingly popping out of nowhere and his immediate reaction is to punch it.

"Is... is he dead?" you ask, peeking out from behind Jax with wide eyes, after seeing the clown face down on the dirt unmoved.

Opie gives it a gentle nudge with his booted toe.

"It's a fucking doll," Opie replies, then gives it a swift kick. "Fuck you."

"Looks like you're the one who only got spooked," you laugh.

Opie fakes a lounge at you and you jump back hiding behind Jax, shrieking. Jax instinctively steps between you and Opie, reaching his arms back again to protect you.

"Alright, let's go do the Terror Drop next." Jax suggests the ride where you get dropped from a great height.

"Um, I'm afraid of heights," you tell him.

"We'll do this together. You can hold my hand again," Jax says. "I promise you're gonna love it."

"Last one there is a rotten egg!" Opie says as he dashes off.

You and Jax then start chasing after Opie.

[themissingnumbers]

HOW IT FEELS TO DISAPPEAR: DESCENT

Note: well, it's all downhill from here. also FUCK its 2am again. WARNINGS: Scopophobia, Disturbing Imagery, Blood. FIRST || PREV | NEXT ["I was just wondering if you were ready to go!"]

Thinking quickly, you decide to just play innocent. If you can't lie, why not just... Avoid the truth?

"I was just wondering if you were ready to go!" you exclaim, folding your hands behind your back and smiling down at him. He looks up at you, quirking an eyebrow. He looks like he wants to question you further, but... He sighs, and just shakes his head.

"Not yet bud. Sorry," he replies simply. "You can go on ahead, though. I'll be fine. 'sides, I didn't exactly ask you to come in the first place, did I?"

You feel your cheeks heat up a bit. He's got you there- you had really insisted on tagging along, and here you are, wandering off and trying to drag him away before he wants to leave... How rude!

He must notice how you're quietly kicking yourself, because his expression softens into a warm smile.

"Hey- don't sweat it. Remember, we're neighbors, Leaf. You can come and bug me any time you want. Promise."

That gets you to calm down a little. Sometimes you forget, you'll admit... You're lucky that Blue turned out to be so patient with you, despite everything.

You're grateful to have him by your side.

"You got it!" you finally chime in reply. "Well... I guess in that case- I'll see you soon, okay? I'll make sure to come over!"

He nods, standing up before you get on your way. You can see him mulling something over in his mind, judging by the look on his face...

Before you can question, he leans in, squeezing you tight in a hug.

The worry of oh Gods what if he feels the bag flashes across your mind, but...

You can tell that's not what he's doing. You relax into your friends arms, returning the gesture with all the warmth you can muster.

After a long moment, Blue pulls away, averting his gaze and rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"Alllllright, get outta here," he insists, "And don't tell anyone I'm going soft, you got that?!"

You beam and nod quickly. "Course! Big Bad Blue Oak being a hugger... Your secret's safe with me!" you chime, before turning to jog off towards the exit.

"I'll come visit soon!!!" you call over your shoulder, waving goodbye. You see him wave back at you, before you lose sight of him as you hop down the stairs.

Once you're outside of the tower, you call out your Dragonite, and fly home. You hope to visit Blue tomorrow... But for now, you've got an Eevee to take care of.

...

Two weeks pass.

Trying to nurse the Eevee back to health has been more difficult than you anticipated. You've tried everything. You've fed and watered it well, played with it, slept with it, tried a whole variety of medicines and home remedies.

No matter what you tried, its condition just won't improve, and it looks just like how you found it, if not worse. Worried about deeper ailments, you even managed to drag it into a Pokemon center last week, in spite of its screams and protests. The nurses did a checkup and everything- nothing abnormal came up, other than the stuff you already knew, that it was scrawny and runty and whatever. The only remarkable things you took away from the visit was the surprising strength of the claws on the little bugger, and that weirdo Nurse Joy who told you to "be careful with a Pokemon like that."

It's like they assumed you just waltzed in with an untrained wild Eevee!

It frustrated you so much that you just went back to trying to treat it yourself. Of course, Eevee calmed down as soon as you got home, and you've barely left the house since then- you can't bear to leave it alone for how bad its separation anxiety is.

At least it doesn't act up at home like it did in the Center... Other than that one day, it's been nothing but a little angel for you.

... You're regretting not getting out more, and you wish so badly you could just take it with- especially to visit your friend, like you keep meaning to... But you've noticed, every time you mentioned visiting your neighbor, Eevee freaks out and hides. You figure it's one of those abused Pokemon that's afraid of men, honestly. The thought makes you chuckle- a cruel means of gender affirmation for the boy, if you could tell him. But... You've decided to continue keeping its care a secret from him for now.

Still, not leaving the house as much as you do usually is taking a toll. You feel like you're coming down with some kind of awful cabin fever- For one, you've started losing your appetite... Add on general weakness, sleeping in later and going to bed earlier, and increasingly frequent headaches, and you'd have already been worried.

But these past few days have gotten... Severe.

You think you're starting to hallucinate.

White figures peering through your windows. Whispers in the back of your mind. Bloodstains throughout your house.

You've decided this has gotten bad enough. You're going to the hospital.

You roll out of bed. Trudge over to your closet- throw on the simplest clothes you can find- a comfortable black dress with pockets, black slippers, and your trusty old bucket hat. You just grab your wallet and turn to leave, half-dazed as you start towards downstairs before something grabs at your legs.

Don't leave me.

You look down at the Eevee, as it chirps, cries, and paws at you fearfully. In the exhausted state you're in, you'd almost forgotten about your little buddy.

Despite how much it hates leaving the house...

[morganeris83]

Someone asked me what I think over a message, wondering if it's PR or not. So, to me, there are two options: 1. PR Relationship: This whole thing feels orchestrated from the jump. Remember when the backlash about him traveling during the pandemic hit hard? Fans were pissed, tabloids were eating it up. Cue AW swooping in, and suddenly we’ve got a new "couple" plastered everywhere. Classic damage control move. I wouldn’t be surprised if CAA cooked this up to salvage his public image and soften the blow from the pandemic debacle. Plus, it’s not just about who AW is, but what she represents: a distraction, something to shift the narrative back to him being "desirable" or “in demand.” Now, as for his behavior—like the whole “I’ve got two dogs right now” comment—doesn’t that sound like someone who knows there’s an expiration date? It’s like he’s counting down until he’s contractually free. He’s probably walking on eggshells because of the legalities. Contracts like these aren’t just for fun; there’s serious money, reputation, and even penalties tied up in them. Ending things too soon? That could come with a major financial hit or even worse—scandal that he just doesn’t want to deal with. 2. Real Relationship: If this is legit, it’s toxic as hell. I mean, AW constantly tries to make herself part of his public narrative, even when he’s clearly trying to stay private. From the DeuxMoi debacle (the whole liking posts without being tagged) to the weird moments like sharing pics of his shoes during his big Sundance premiere… that’s not something a truly “private” person would do. It’s almost like she’s trying to tether herself to him, no matter how much distance he tries to put between them in public. And then there’s his hypocrisy. Let’s not pretend he’s innocent here. He shades people who are obsessed with social media, fillers, and the external validation they seek—but AW is literally the poster child for that lifestyle. He’s walking contradictions at this point. If they’re genuinely in love, why does he seem to be throwing so much passive-aggressive shade? No loving relationship looks like this. Real couples don’t pull this kind of weird public bait-and-switch, especially when one partner claims to be so intensely private. The constant pap walks scream "staged." Real private celebs avoid this kind of attention like the plague, and the fact that he’s participating in these pap strolls makes his whole “I value my privacy” mantra feel hollow. And don’t even get me started on the family pap strolls—those just ooze with PR stench. We’ve seen legit private celebs, and trust me, you don’t see their every move in glossy magazines or gossip columns. In conclusion: whether it's PR or real, neither option paints them in a good light. Either it’s a strategic ploy for buzz, or it’s a genuine, messy, hypocritical relationship with no real respect on either side.

Reposted my post from @notafunkiller and @littlemissidontcare so the person who asked can check it out. ✌️📢

This is everything I've been saying, basically. I'm still Team PR, not because I refuse to believe that he is a 100% perfect innocent angel, no one is perfect and I'll die before I center myself around any man, even Sebastian. He's still a man and I have low expectations of men as a whole. But also a lot of his behaviors do not add up with his exhibited history. It's felt off from the first image of them.

[miamochi-writes]

Hi I hope you're doing well! I love your writings! Also would you ever write a part 2 for "The Only Time I Feel Safe?" That ending you left us with had my screaming, crying, and gushing over it. Please tell me it gets better!

Thank you! I'm trying to balance out work stuff and finding time to rest. And I've gotten so many requests to make a part 2! So here it is! Also tagging @usuallynana since they also asked for this. I hope this isn't too cheesy at the end! I hope you enjoy it! :)

The Only Time I Feel Safe Part 2

After the bandit incident, you've been more careful during your travels with the group. Just like Vash, you had to keep a low profile wherever you went. Thankfully, learning to be a spy all your life had its perks. You were able to snag some clothes and items to obscure yourself in public. Hell, you even adjusted your voice to different pitches thanks to your training. On your visit to the next city, you insisted to the group that you would make it up to them by getting a hotel for them to stay the night.

"Listen Y/n, you don't have to," Meryl looked at you at through her rear view mirror.

"I know, but I want to. Just give me until sunrise to get you money for a hotel," you pleaded.

"Look, newbie just let 'em. I doubt you can change their mind," Roberto butted in.

Meryl sighed as she looked at the endless sand again.

"Fine, but just be careful. At least have Vash or Wolfwood accompany you," she gave in. You looked at Wolfwood who raised his eyebrow at you. Then you looked at Vash who gave you small smile.

"I can keep a look out for you, while keeping some distance," Vash offered as you felt relieved that he was willing to join you.

"Then it's settled. We'll split up again. Roberto and I will be at a local diner waiting for you. But you need to be back before sunrise," Meryl reminded you as you agreed to her terms.

Once you arrived at the next town, you handed Vash a cloak to keep himself hidden. He was already too well known with the wanted posters you kept seeing in every town. Plus his face and red jacket were a dead giveaway to anyone. Once he got changed, you told him your plan of going around the city for awhile to see if you can find some good info. Before you could walk, you felt nervous looking at the crowd. Your mind kept drifting back to what happened before. Your heart was starting to quicken as you thought about those people who were after your bounty. You couldn't afford to mess up now.

"Hey, everything okay?"

You looked at Vash as he snapped you out of your thoughts. He was looking at you with those blue worried eyes of his.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" you tried to convince him.

"Then why are you so tense?" he pointed to your hands. You didn't realize they were turning white from balling them up into fists. This was one of your bad habits you developed. You unclenched your hands and took a deep breathe.

"Okay, I'm a little nervous," you admitted.

"Hey, don't forget that I'm going to be right with you. I'll protect you no matter what. That's a promise," he reassured you.

"You're right, how could I forget?" you said showing him a small smile. He then offered his hand to you. You looked at him wondering what he was doing.

"I can lead the way, if you want. Just in case we need to avoid certain people or areas," he explained. You looked at his hand and figured he had a point. You hesitantly reached your hand to his. Once your finger tips made contact with his, you gently grabbed his hand. You felt your nerves wash away from the warmth of his hand. Despite the traumatic experiences you had with physical contact before, you felt surprised with how comfortable you were with him being this close.

"Lead the way," you told him.

~*~

Once you started walking, you kept your ears peeled within a crowd of people or by any buildings you passed. For the most part, you would hear local baseless gossip or mindless small talk. At some point, Vash noticed some of the military police up ahead and would either lead you another way or hide in a corner until they left. But after a good hour, you finally heard what you were looking for. Some people finally brought up topics about the Windmill Village, Jeneora, or some areas that you recently encountered. You pulled Vash back from walking as he turned around to look at you.

"I found what I'm looking for. I'll be around the corner. I'll whistle for you if I need anything," you told him.

"Okay, I'll hang around here waiting for you. Be careful," he replied as he put his hand on your shoulder. You nodded before walking back to where you came from. You approached the people you heard earlier and talked in a lower pitch.

"I have answers to those questions. Meet me at the corner," you whispered to these people as you passed them by.

~*~

The sun was about to set and Meryl was getting impatient. Roberto was having another drink while Wolfwood was smoking his next cigarette. Before Meryl could get up from her seat, the doors of the diner opened. She turned around to see you and Vash. You walked to her table and put down a good amount of double dollars in front of her.

"This should be enough to cover our stay right?" you asked with a small smirk. Meryl looked at you in shock as she went to go book the hotel rooms. You sat down at one of the tables while Vash joined you.

"I can't believe you were able to make that much money off of sharing information," Vash pointed out as you sighed from how tired you were walking in your disguise.

"I know it's not the best way to make a living, but sometimes information is vital. People will pay for valuable information. I know I would," you commented.

"It's true, people will pay what they can to find the whereabouts of people or events. Take the wanted posters for example," Roberto pointed out.

Meryl then came back with the hotel keys in her hands.

"Good news, I got us rooms. Two rooms with double beds and one single room," she explained.

"Finally, I can take off this disguise," you commented.

"I'm staying with Roberto, no buts," Wolfwood said as he didn't look at Vash. Roberto sighed as he followed behind him.

"Guess it's you and me Y/n. Vash, here's your key. Our rooms are pretty close together and on the same floor in case we need anything. The guys are right across from us," Meryl said as she led you to your rooms.

~*~

After removing your disguise and taking a nice shower, you felt much better to be in your normal attire. You got comfortable on your bed as Meryl was giddy with joy knowing that she wasn't going to sleep in a dune for once.

"Finally we don't have to sleep in the cold!" she cheered.

"I told you I'd make up for it," you laughed at her.

"You know, you've changed a bit," Meryl pointed out.

"In what way?" you asked while turning to her.

"Well you were very reserved, especially with the no touch rule. But after traveling some time, you've been more open. Especially with you know who," she explained as your eyes widened.

"Come on Y/n, I'm a reporter. You think I don't know who you're more comfortable with?" she added while raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Also I'm comfortable with you," you argued.

"Yeah but you never gave me a hug," she reasoned as you felt your face turning red.

"You saw me hug Vash?!" you asked.

"I never said who," she smirked as you buried your face on the pillow. Before you could say anything else, your stomach growled. You didn't realize you haven't eaten since you arrived in town.

"I'm going to eat dinner down at the lobby. Do you want anything?" you asked as you started putting on part of your disguise.

"Nah, I already ate earlier. I'm going to sleep after driving for so long," she replied as she turned around.

Once you reached the lobby you grabbed a plate of food and enjoyed some peace and quiet. You thought about what Meryl said earlier on how you treated Vash over the past. After taking your last bite, you headed back to your room. You were about to enter your room until you realized something. You then walked over to the room across and knocked. Vash opened the door and was surprised to see you.

"Hey Y/n, what's wrong?" he asked

"Hey Vash...can I spend the night with you? I forgot my room key and Meryl is already asleep. And I feel bad for waking her up after she drove us for so long," you asked feeling embarrassed on forgetting a crucial item.

"Oh sure come on in," he replied opening the door for you. You walked in and changed out of your disguise in the bathroom. Thankfully the bed was big enough to fit two of you or else you would have been arguing who gets the bed and who sleeps on the chair.

"Hey, thanks for letting me stay here," you told him as you sat on your side of the bed.

"No problem, thanks for getting us a place to stay in the hotel rooms," he thanked.

"It's the least I can do. But I should be thanking you, my nerves would have gotten the best of me if you weren't there," you admitted shyly.

"I'm always happy to help if you need it," he smiled at you. His smile was so contagious that you couldn't help but smile back at him.

"You know, it's funny how when we first met, you were very closed off. Now here you are being this close without sending me death glares. What changed?" Vash asked.

"Well, to be honest...when I first met you I treated you like how I treated everyone. Growing up, I've been hurt many times physically by my mentor and other people. I kinda saw everyone as a threat, but after seeing how much you did for the people at Jeneora that changed. I've never met someone who is always willing to help others no matter the circumstances. Even when they were hunting you down, you still helped. I think that's when I started slowly trusting you," you started. You noticed Vash was staring at you and felt that you might as well tell him everything. You took a deep breathe before continuing.

"But I think I started getting comfortable with the sand worm incident. That's what separates you from the people who've constantly hurt me. You cared so much that you come back for us. You constantly put your life on the line for us when you could have just ran off any time. Plus, you were always kind towards me. You always asked for permission before making contact with me. Whenever we touch, it always felt nice. You never once hurt me. You’ve kept me protected even when I was aloof towards you, especially with those bandits. What I'm trying to say is, I like being with you. The only time I feel safe is when I'm with you," you admitted as you looked at him. You could feel yourself blushing from what you just told him.

"You feel that way about me?" he asked as you nodded.

"Even though I'm one of the most wanted outlaw in Noman's Land? You've heard what people call me. 'The Humanoid Typhoon,' No matter where I go, danger follows. You can never have a peaceful life," he continued.

"I know what they say, and I still feel safer with you than other people. Also have you forgotten what I grew up with? Your lifestyle is nothing compared to the amount of torture and danger I used to face every day with my mentor," you pointed out. You then grabbed both of his hands and gave them a small squeeze before looking him in the eyes.

"I would gladly travel with you, get cops off your back, and live this lifestyle if it means being by your side. I'm with you until the end Vash," you pointed out and didn’t break eye contact. He needed to know even if it put you in a vulnerable spot. Vash’s lip started quivering as he looked at you fondly with his beautiful eyes.

“Y/n, can I hold you for a bit?” He asked. You smiled and nodded as you felt his prosthetic hand rest on the small of your back, while his human arm held your head. He brought you close to him as your chin landed on his shoulder. That’s when you felt him tightly embrace you. He was so warm that you didn’t want to let go. You hugged him back as he began to talk.

“Thank you Y/n, that’s the sweetest thing someone’s ever told me. Thank you for always being there for me. I promise to keep you safe no matter where we go. I want to be there for you the same way you've been there for me after the Jeneora incident," he told you.

"Of course, I'll always be there for you if you let me. I'm glad we met," you told him as you felt him nuzzle your neck.

"Hey Y/n? Can I do something else with you?" he asked.

"You don't have to ask for permission anymore to touch me Vash. You're the only exception," you reassured. You knew he wouldn't hurt you and you felt more than comfortable with him at this point. You then felt him look at your face as he smiled at you. He then leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You immediately turned red as that caught you off guard.

"You kissed me?" you asked.

"Sorry was that too much?" he asked looking concerned. You then grabbed his face gently and placed a small kiss on his lips. You heard a sharp inhale, but soon he relaxed as you smiled into it.

"No, that just means I can kiss you as much as I want now," you smiled more as your cheeks were pink. Vash's eyes widened as he pulled you to his side of the bed for another hug as he started giving you butterfly kisses all over your face.

"I'm happy you forgot your room key so we could spend the night together," he told you as you laughed.

"Yeah, next time we stay at a hotel I'll gladly room with you over Meryl," you replied as you gave him another peck on the lips as he nuzzled your neck.

[riderofblackdragons]

Struggles and Sorrows and Skin

Day 11: Seeing Double | convenience store | loneliness | "leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist"

Surprise! I've actually managed to get this one out early in the day! And the reason for that is bc I wrote this pretty much at the same time as yesterday's, lol. So here's a return to Seal Be With Ye, ft pre-vampire Mikael and Elijah :) I'm apparently on a role with Mikael being a semi decent person.

If anyone has any specific AU they want more of, send me an ask or something and I'll see what I can do :)

Hope you enjoy!

It was a curious thing. Elijah remembered his birth, the way he'd yowled as he'd come into the world, and the way he'd screamed as his coat was taken off of him. A sea birth, he believed. It was never a good omen to have a woman give birth onboard, so his father had tossed Elijah's mother into the sea to give birth.

The memories fizzled out after that, in Elijah's mind, until they'd picked back up when he was around two years of age. Still on the boat, but no mother around to help him - and able to hear things, and see, and feel something other than the cold of the sharp wind around them. There was a woman around who he'd assumed was his mother, at the time, had assumed for years, but she'd always rebuffed Elijah aside from when she was feeding him.

She'd weaned him so much earlier than any of his siblings, he'd later learn. Because of course she would. Elijah wasn't her child. He was the child of her husband's thrall, the slut who'd taken to Mikael's bed, bearing him an heir in exchange for her coat back. After the birth, Elijah's mother had vanished, like she'd never existed in the first place, aside from the wailing baby she'd handed up to Mikael, complete with the baby's own coat.

Esther had never really understood the meaning of the coat, but Mikael had. He'd taught Elijah about it too, making sure he knew just how important it was that he kept his coat away from all others. Especially Mikael's wife, who proved herswelf to be willing to damage and destroy Elijah's belongings, as a sort of punishment to her husband's bastard child.

Mikael's favouritism towards a child not Esther's hurt her, and that, Elijah could understand. His father wasn't subtle about giving Elijah preferential treatment, after all, even if Elijah would rather he hadn't. If it would have kept his half-siblings from facing Mikael's wrath, Elijah would have given up everything, but he'd learned early on that it wasn't the way to go.

Even though Mikael had named Elijah after the child Esther had been carrying, that she'd miscarried at the time of Elijah's birth. He was confident that it was the other main reason she hated him. She'd never called out to Elijah by his name, only using words such as "boy" or "hey you". It hurt Elijah too, but he understood. He had to. If he didn't, then things would get worse.

Ultimately, the only true freedom Elijah had was in the ocean. In the trips Mikael would take him on, once a month, for a week over the full moon, to the ocean. Ostensibly, it was to avoid their neighbours, the wolves in the village, when they'd turn on the full moon. But Elijah knew it was also a gift to him - to allow him to slip into his sealskin, and swim and hunt and dive and play in ways that he was never allowed to under Esther's watchful eye.

It was Mikael's way of apologising to Elijah, that he didn't have his mother anymore. That he'd never know her, not her true name (for Mikael had always known the name she'd given him wasn't really hers), not what she looked like, not any secrets that her selkie parents had passed down to her. Elijah would get nothing, and Mikael was a man of few words. This had to be enough.

Tag List: @captain-effy @what-the-fuckis-happening

If anyone wants to be added lmk!

[alexanderlightweight]

*Wednesday is subjective and can last up to 36 hours due to insomnia. Wednesday starts on Wednesday and ends when the author passes out sometime later.

The Rules + Notes

Only Malec prompts accepted

It’s okay to prompt another chapter for an existing fic, even the oneshots. There is a chance i won’t be able to or want to fill it, but i’m always willing to consider. Just be polite.

I write a lot of dark stuff, so feel free to specify if you want to avoid something or want something specific.

I really do enjoy just the fun of building a fic from a single word, but I’m also happy to try and tackle any longer and more complex prompts. 

If your prompt isn’t filled the week it’s sent it, I’m still going to write it. I always respond to an ask to explain why I won’t fill it if I’m not going to.

If I can’t/wont fill a prompt, I’ll post it and explain and say it’s okay to send another.

prompts are only open on writing wednesdays or if i specify otherwise (this was changed because of how many prompts i get easy wednesday and thats the specific prompt day)

feel free to ask me if i've got your prompt but please know it sometimes takes time to get to all of them and I write verses based on the mood I’m in

I don’t post all of my fic fills to ao3 but I do try to do about half of them. Posting takes a lot of spoons and I generally end up adding more to the fics when I post them so it takes a bit.

I want it very clear that I do this because it’s fun and healthy for me and everyone who prompts is super sweet and I don’t do it to get feedback from prompters (but I always enjoy it)! It's really just worth it to me for the expression of shared art. Because I wouldn’t write half of the fun stories I love creating and exploring without the prompts from others to tickle my thoughts.

However, my partner and I are very protective about my mental health and I have social anxiety to the degree that I sometimes still need my handheld after strangers talk to me so I don't go rolling into a blanketball and scream.

If you are rude, I will sic my boyfriend @saeths (who is an asshole) on you and they will happily come down like a blistering gust of burning wind from an out of control wildfire. Seriously, they think it’s fun to fuck with people and they’re very protective. {i have npd and a lack of acceptable targets -saeth}

They would enjoy it, except the part where it made me upset. 

So don’t make me upset and I won’t set saeth on anyone.

Also saeth and i tend to flirt in posts on our blogs back and forth. so if you don’t want to see that because you’re here for fics and want to avoid it the tag is always ‘saeth & kitten’

- Lumine

The Author likes to write

darkly!soft romance

magical realism & magical flora and fauna 

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (3DNE)

Magnus/Cat/Ragnor friendship 

Exploring the eldritch and angelic natures of nephilim and the fallen divinity of greater demons

Alec’s Institute and shadowhunters being competent 

creature!character fics

soulmates

The Author won't write

non-con/rape

cheating

major character death

hurt no comfort

sad endings

any main pairing besides malec

mpreg/kidfic

camille centric fics

non-magical mundane/shadowhunters inverted au’s

Verse List (under cut)

this eldritch delight – soft-horror malec (Alec is the Trueblood heir, Addams Inspired) 

star eater – sentient!shadow Alec Trueblood au 

the agony of living – chronic!pain alec

Elysiums Tears – Alec is cursed with visions of the future(s)

all your cracks I’ll paint gold – deruned Alec 

the bonds i'd break – all your cracks i'll paint gold au

in his wake, petals fall – Alec loves flowers and Magnus loves indulging him 

cider verse – Alec and Magnus are in a secret relationship since before canon 

pray to the hunters – Alec worships dead shadowhunters instead of Raziel 

the price of lust – Manipulative dark Magnus 

a stolen blade – assassin!alec au soulmates

dressed to kill – mob!wife Alec

flames of triumph – Phoenix Magnus & unicorn Alec 

ripples of magic – Sentient Institute & wards

in the light of the night – Alec hunts circle members to feed the angelic core 

the core of me belongs to you – Alec is the institute 

rituals & souls – Magnus summons an alec for himself after meeting the possibility of him 

to find, to yield – power imbalance, dominion magic

the frost of fury – competent Alec takes no shit in his institute

to break with fate – the circle wins 

all my fears forgotten – alec has amnesia 

like real people do – dragon!alec 

saint & sinners – shadowhunter!magnus & mentor/mentee

hoarfrost kiss on lips aflame – nephilim are more eldritch than mundane and it presents in the most chilling of ways

heartbeat like fire – sentinel!magnus & guide!alec 

spoils of war – Alec is a political hostage disguised as a groom 

devotion across worlds – Alec Trueblood (sentient shadows) is summoned to another universe and mistaken as an angel

marriage of inconvenience – Magnus marries Alec to save him from marrying Clary 

running from my dreams – alec has to work through past trauma when the Institute is poisoned 

walls of adoration, claws of desperation – Magnus and Alec are pre-canon secret relationship. alec is older in this fic, he's 7 years older than izzy and was raised by trueblood grandparents

bleed for desire – Magnus is king of the east coast and happily steps in to take care of newly born vampire Alec 

art of obsession – au of bleed for desire (instead alec ends up falling into Edom and Magnus decides to keep him there for a bit and go on vacation for a bit)  

your heart is full of jewels – alec is mistaken by mundanes as a sugar baby

an extension of you – alec is known as belonging to magnus' and that means something for downworlders

not all that glitters is gold – dragon!magnus with a lot of kink and monsterfucking

for you the world will burn – maryse isn't a good person, but she is a good mother and that is sometimes the more dangerous combinations

finders keepers – alec ends up in another universe and that magnus decides to keep him

feral sweetness, like honeycomb – incompetent shadowhunter and Alec deals with them and Magnus is there watching *its how they meet

soulfire – magnus summons another magnus bane to help him save his soulmate. magnus/alec/magnus

flames so cold they shatter – alec gets the lightwood family gift and remains the lightwood heir... and the only lightwood left

to tremble from your gaze – BDSM verse, dom!magnus and sub!alec

the craft of adoration– alec manipulates his way into magnus' arms

the most fragile of poisons – magnus pretends to be a damsel in distress, aka enjoying overprotective alec

undertow – kelpie!alec au with accidental courtship and BDSM

the treasure of kings – alec and magnus aren't impressed to find that lilith's son takes after his mother (aka wants to bang a lightwood)

the same sky – malec time travel to back a few years before canon, both of them

a warlock's hoard – a/b/o universe, omega/omega malec

to be or knot to be – a/b/o universe, alpha/alpha malec (look it was punny, i couldn't knot use it)

the worth of a life – asmodeus asks for the parabatai bond instead of magnus' magic to save jace

the desecration of souls – lilith has a claim to alec as her son thanks to valentine's experiments

the bonds i'd break – au of 'all your cracks i'll paint gold' where alec takes a chance and steal leaves nephilim/shadowhunter society but keeps his runes

guided by my unchained heart – alec resigns from the institute when jace is made hoti and goes to magnus

the taste of his magic – dragon!alec and magnus (he can shift into a cat) meet because alec can't keep his claws off of magnus' garden

(i'm trying to add some stuff but saeth will come back and fix it!)

[cicada-circuitry]

#God tho this does make me want to pull back up that notebook fic snippet i had#of Margo confronting Molly about this too but like with science.#Margo would know. Just saying. She knows. ⃪ does this mean you have Molly/Margo fic?

Hi anon! sorry this is now several days late but boy do I. ( watched FAMK for the first time in February, wound up with Pages and pages of fic snippets (for a couple ships, margo x molly included) in chicken scratch on physical paper which is always a great sign that im being normal about a show, thought I'd cure myself if I just watched the whole thing a second time and absolutely only made it worse. )

I meant to answer this ask by just typing up the quick excerpt of the fic I was talking to myself in the tags about but...... started typing and did not stop. It lives over here now! Was not the one of the notebook fics I thought would see the light of day but you know? why not.

(I assume if you're here you, like me, have already read all the fics to be found but if you have Not read everything in that tag already, highly recommend. this fandom may be small but boy did it have good food on offer when I rolled in four years late fresh off a few episodes and absolutely screaming.)

Since I went ahead and dropped that one on ao3 at like 4am i'll throw in something a little more typical of the the notebook archives - how about this thing that exists entirely bc i noticed that used bookstore you can see beside the Outpost in season 1 and it gave me Ideas

Sometime post crossword-quiz / pre- run-in at the Jazz club.  

Margo walks fast past the Outpost on her way over to Bargain Books. When she can, she prefers to park down at the other end of the street and not have to go by that eyesore of a bar in the first place, but when you double the size of the astronaut program with twenty female ascans, you turn street parking into a blood sport. On her salary, no way is she playing chicken with the corvettes, not even to avoid mustering a polite smile for a coworker at his inebriated worst. 

Most days, that’s only an issue if she swings by after dark, the hour when everybody’s trickling out and stumbling home for the evening. Otherwise, the dingy whitewashed plywood keeps a nice impenetrable wall between book-seeking passers-by and drunken test pilots. Today, however, a spell of perfect weather is conspiring against her. Someone has the door propped open with a rusty paint can, letting the sound of laughter of clinking glass spill through it onto the sidewalk. 

A flash of green catches Margo’s eye before she can make it past. Despite herself, she recognizes that shade in an instant. It’s the flannel shirt she had to reprimand earlier that afternoon for bringing a lit cigarette into the sim. Molly Cobb, bent over a pool table, chin twisted up towards Patty Doyle, grinning like a woman about to win.  

Just Margo’s luck that this is the perfect time of day—indoor light matching outdoor light—for Molly to catch her eye straight through the open door as she makes her shot. 8-ball, dead in the pocket. 

For no reason she can think of, Margo feels heat rushing up into her cheeks. 

She stalks into Bargain Books in a hurry. 

The sweater-vested owner behind the front desk gives her the polite nod reserved for a good customer (and disinterested conversationalist) as she beelines for Paperback Fiction. She finished Matheson’s Ride the Nightmare last night— should have picked up two when she noticed how short it was in the first place, but nothing else tickled her fancy when she was in here a week ago, so here she is again, browsing spines. Maybe it's time to cave and finally grab a 10¢ copy of Rosemary's Baby from the stack on the end, seeing as it’s the one highly recommended title in her genre-of-choice the entire country seems to have read in the last couple years, but she already knows the ending (and the entire premise of demonic pregnancy does not appeal for tuning out after the work day). 

She’s dubiously eying the back-cover blurb on a Chandler detective thriller instead when a voice over her shoulder says, “Oh, Patty loves this shit.” 

To her great chagrin, Margo jumps, gasps, and drops her book. “Jesus, Molly.” 

“My bad.” 

Molly squats down to pick it up, slouchy brown corduroy flexing over her thighs. She fixes a bend in the cover before offering it back to her, but when Margo tries to take it away, Molly doesn’t let go. Instead, she adopts a playfully quirked brow and tugs it back towards herself inch-by-inch, bringing Margo, frowning, a step closer than she was before. “Came here to see if I could talk you into a drink.” 

Margo’s voice comes out approximately four steps too high as she looks around for some explanatory audience and says incredulously, “In there?” with a jerk of her thumb towards the Outpost’s adjoining wall. 

“Yeah. NASA central, shithole though it may be, but I never see you around.” 

“Well, I’m not an astronaut.” 

“Neither are the five white-shirts who monopolize the best booth in the back six nights a week. They don’t check for a pin at the door, Madison. That’d be no way to run a business. It’s a bar. Come have a drink with me.” 

“With… you.” She asks because she expects there to be an and. Me and the other ascans. Me and the rest of you white-shirt types in the back. Me and Patty Doyle. 

But Molly just raps the cover of The Lady in the Lake with her knuckles and says again, “With me.”

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Fire/Fear

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner | Rated Explicit | Words: 8.4k

Warnings: Language, smut, passing out

Summary: A hurt/comfort fic that turns into soft smut where the fires onstage are entirely too hot, Sam becomes overprotective, and Danny has to get permission from a doctor to canoodle with his boyfriend.

Written for, in collaboration with, and edited by @gretavanfreaky

Author's Note(s): PLEASE let me know if you don't want to be on the taglist for Sanny fics or other slash fics; I know this isn't everyone's jam, so I don't want to be the one to tag you in things you don't want to read. You can stay on the general taglist, I'll just take you off any Sanny works! Enjoy this fic that has been sitting dormant in my Google Docs for a year (don't worry, I edited it first)! Also, I'm going to fix my Masterlist links and then try to finish the Danny x Reader "Stroke Me" by Billy Squier fic!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

Sam had really been into the pyrotechnics this tour.

Everyone always thought that Josh was the pyromanic, but Sam had always given him a run for his money when it came to the admiration for fire, heat, danger, the pure destructive power that was just so damn beautiful and wily.

But Sam was not one to wax poetic - that was definitely Josh’s area of expertise. 

See, Sam was into the pyrotechnics this tour, but also…

Danny.

Or more specifically, Danny and his proximity to the flames and the resulting hot, sweaty, beast of a boyfriend who gleamed a soft orange in the reflection of the fire on his sweat for Sam’s viewing pleasure. Many a show had Sam been distracted by the way rivulets of water would run down his body (often shirtless half-way through the show just from the sweltering temperatures, which was another bonus) when he took rushed, poorly-aimed swigs from his bottle, or the picture of Danny, drumsticks raised high and a smile on his face as he was surrounded by flames. And, as strange as it sounded, something about the smell of smoke and Danny was just…infinitely hot to Sam.

Not to mention – in the name of saving water (save the Earth and all) - the shared showers afterwards.

But as incredibly sexy as his boyfriend was, how the fire made him light up, and how he loved both components of that equation, Sam would have nixed the idea of even a lighter on stage before Josh had even submitted the idea to their tour manager and props guy. It wouldn’t have even crossed the threshold of conception had he known that it would end in a crash and a few screams and the leading thought of holy fuck did we accidentally just set my boyfriend on fire?

Luckily, they hadn’t. But, here, laying in bed with a peaceful Danny in the aftermath of the incident, Sam couldn’t recall what exactly had happened, or if he’d been the one screaming, or whether the scuffed paint and bent tuner peg on his bass could have been avoided.

All he could remember was that even through the smoke and heat and fire, the fear had been icy cold and skin-meltingly hot all at the same time, and he’d thought he was going to throw up when a bunch of stage hands rushed over with water and towels to where Danny was usually poised like a greek god.

The big man stirred against Sam; the doctors said that his body, due to a lack of sleep and a built-up exhaustion, would take a little longer to recover and come to than normal. And sure enough, it had been hours - 3, to be exact - since that awful event and since Danny had been moved at Sam’s unwavering command back to their hotel room, where he’d cranked up the AC, put pillows under Danny’s feet, and had three gatorades and five water bottles waiting on the bedside table.

One big sigh left Danny’s lips and fanned across Sam’s neck. “You haven’t showered yet, have you?”

Finally, after what felt like an excruciating lifetime, Danny was awake. 

Sam grabbed a gatorade immediately and turned in his spot so that he could face Danny on the bed, unable to meet his eyes properly as he snapped the lid off the bottle. “Stop commenting on my personal hygiene and drink, fire boy.”

Not even a hello.

Perhaps it was the lack of Sam’s usual jests and snap-backs that alerted Danny to the fact that something was wrong – still, at least – but he drained half of the bottle in one go regardless of Sam’s demand, sipping on it more when Sam fixed him with a glare that said ‘you’d better finish that.’ “You know, you don’t have to–”

“Do you remember what happened?”

They spoke at the same time, but Danny let Sam go first, quick to playfully roll his eyes but always the gentleman. Usually the gentleman – ask Sam on any given night and he might just give you an overexaggerated wink and smirk. “Yes, Sam. I remember everything that happened up until the point that I actually passed out. I don’t have amnesia, you dork.”

Sam scoffed – he was no expert on the mechanics of what really happened when one passes out. Not when it wasn’t alcohol-related, at least, and even then, he’d left (most) of those days behind in his younger years. But, you know - fuck him for being a concered and invested boyfriend, apparently.

“Oh, well, sorry I’m not in the habit of passing out, I guess,” Sam snarked back. Danny just laughed good-naturedly at him and placed a sloppy kiss on Sam’s cheek. But Sam was curious. It was already established that he’d been too hopped-up on adrenaline to properly remember the exact order of events, and he wanted Danny’s perspective. “Just for shits and giggles,” he ventured, and Danny hummed for him to go on, “uh…what did happen? I mean, from where you were sitting,” Sam clarified quickly - again, a little embarrassed of his reaction and inability to remember the entirety of the event himself.

Danny finished off the bottle and battled with Sam for a moment when Sam tried to replace it with a water bottle before he even had the chance to throw the empty one in his hand away. “Chill the fuck out for a second, Sam,” Danny giggled, trying to push away the bottle without spilling any of the contents on either of them. “I just drank that gatorade in like…two minutes flat. Give me a break.”

“The doctor said you have to get fluids in you!” Sam insisted, forcefully pushing the water on Danny, but not exactly wrestling the man for fear of…well, he wasn’t quite sure he could place the fear yet. “And gatorade has so much sugar - you need water.”

Finally, Danny grabbed hold of Sam’s wrist tightly and stopped his attack, looking him in the eyes and seeing remnants of that worry Sam had felt on stage. “I will,” he promised sweetly, taking the bottle because he knew Sam’s intentions were pure, but…not very well executed. “Just, on my time and not shoved down my throat, please.”

Sam grumbled his assent, but kept an eagle eye on the water, making sure Danny didn’t put it down.

“Now,” Danny continued once they settled back down, “I started feeling a little weird after my solo.”

…

The show had started off like many of the other ones on the tour had. Not that it wasn’t memorable in its own way, or boring whatsoever, but - doing relatively the same sets every few days created a nice little flow that was conducive to the beat Danny could put out. It was what he was best at, after all - consistency and rhythm, the heartbeat and drum. 

Besides, Josh’s antics could never allow for a boring show, and with Sammy right by his side, Danny could pick a moment in time at random and would gladly live in it forever - tour, venue, song, crowd, or day be damned.

…

“Such a sap,” sighed Sam. But internally, he was swooning. He was a big swooner, but he’d never let Danny get away with the cheesy stuff without just a little bit of ribbing.

“Shut up and let me tell the story.”

“Drink your water.”

“Sam.”

…

So the show had started off well, and the crowd was alive and Josh was inciting even more energy that Danny pushed to match – he was feeding off of the exhilarating feeling of giving the people what they wanted, hearing them chant his name, the drive to prove just how good he was and how he contributed to the band.

It didn’t occur to him until his thirst nearly distracted him from his kit that he’d forgotten to drink water throughout the entire first half of the set.

And he was going to - he was - but then Jake’s ‘WAH’ pedal went out and he was informed via his in-ear that his solo was moving up a spot while the techs worked their magic. He didn’t have time to crack the bottle open and forgot about the water, too focused on his job and finishing the song and making the transition into his solo as seamless as possible. 

Did his eyesight go fuzzy here and there? Yeah. But his focus on the kit in front of him was unflappable - ultimately, he was no stranger to fuzzy vision every now and then when he played hard. All he knew was that he was just really fucking hot on top of everything with the periodic explosive columns of flames at his back.

It was only after he raised his sticks to let the anticipation of the beat to the next song lengthen that he caught himself from dropping them in a sudden loss of strength. Again, though - they were approaching the last stretch of the tour and were all hanging onto their mortal bodies as best they could. Fatigue in all forms was to be expected. Perhaps not in the middle of a show, but who really had control over that?

So he went on, and water was pushed to the wayside again when Jake pulled the ‘faster, faster, faster’ gag that had been running since the day Danny had stepped foot in their garage with a pair of drumsticks in his hand - to test his compatibility and chops as a drummer, could Danny actually listen? Could he pick up on the slightest tempo change and keep the band centered?

He could, and Danny would do it back every so often - pick the pace up and grin watching the others adjust - but this time, he was struggling. He was feeling a little sick halfway into their little game, and he wanted to slow down, but it wasn’t like he was gonna lose to Jake.

…

“So it was Jake’s fault,” Sam accused with a frown, throwing the gatorade bottle that had never made it off the bed in the direction of the wastebasket on the other side of the room.

He missed.

“No, it’s not Jake’s fault,” Danny said as he finally took a swig of the water, raising his brows in embellishment as if to say, ‘see? Drinking,’ to Sam’s concern. “It was mine for being stupid enough to not drink water at all during the show. Rookie move.”

Sam took one of Danny’s hands, tender and soft despite his calluses, and started massaging the muscles and joints that helped get them to where they were today. It was a little out of the ordinary - not to say that Sam neglected Danny at all, but this little touch of intimacy was more direct than Sam usually tried to make it. Danny didn’t say anything of it in fear that Sam would pull back; he quite loved moments like this, and he hoped his sigh of satisfaction and pleasure was just enough to get that message across without embarrassing Sam.

“I mean, yeah, maybe it was something a noob would do, but you’re not allowed to take the blame since you almost fucking died,” Sam declared, only a slight waver to the last word. He didn’t actually think that Danny had almost died, but he also didn’t want to think about where they would be if the flames had caught Danny’s fluffy hair, or the material of his outfit, and they actually did set his boyfriend on fire.

Danny gently booped Sam’s nose with the cold, damp bottle in his hand. “I didn’t ‘almost fucking die’,” Danny responded with a chuckle. “And it doesn’t always have to be someone’s fault, Sammy. These things happen. You know that it’s just part of the trade - the heat, the sweat, and…sometimes the fainting, I guess.”

Sam did know that - after all, he’d been videoed struggling at that stupid-hot show in Texas, and then there was that one in Cali that had him all out of sorts, and the…well, in any capacity, Sam knew that it was a part of the trade. Just, maybe not for Danny. Because if something happened to Danny, Sam was embarrassingly dependent on the man for support during their tours - especially since they’d been together together.

The twins had each other to lean on, and Sam had Danny - in all regards.

Sam wiped the bead of water that came from the condensation off his nose. “Well, we didn’t need the fire to make it worse. I’m still blaming both the twins now,” he pouted. “Josh for having the fire in the first place and Jake for egging you on.”

Danny laughed, and the sound vibrated from his chest into Sam’s, from his mouth into Sam’s ears, and it was wonderful. “I think you just want to be mad at someone, and you’re used to it being them,” he teased, even though there was likely some truth in that statement. “I see the way you look at me during shows - I don’t think you want to hate the fire. Plus, if I remember correctly, you were the fire’s biggest supporter.”

The soft, wispy feeling of Sam’s hair against his cheeks and chin made Danny sputter and spit, but Sam kept his proximity, still putting pressure into Danny’s hand as he grumbled, “Well, feelings change. It assaulted my boyfriend and if anything’ll get you on my bad side, that’s it.” Danny wasn’t sure if that particular concept applied to only the fire, but Sam seemed to be in a mood, so he didn’t comment. “So, what happened next?”

Danny, remembering that he’d been telling a story, relaxed into Sam’s expert masseuse skills and continued.

…

It had been Jake to notice first, though. He’d looked back with a smirk after a few beats into the next song, but the smirk had dropped off immediately once he’d caught sight of Danny’s ashy complexion, noticeable even in the firelight. 

He had been a little surprised Sam didn’t notice either, but “Caravel” was his time to shine, and he must have been working the crowd at the front of the stage.

Danny’s gaze had seemed a little glazed over and just not quite right when Jake did catch his eye to get an ‘ok’. But Danny had given it to him regardless, and he didn’t blame Jake for taking it at face value in the moment - he knew that Jake would have checked in on him at his next convenience, but solos weren’t to be trifled with.

He’d tried to push through the sudden onslaught of blurry vision and nausea and dizziness, but when he stood up to finish out the main set, he knew he was going down in that instant. It was all he could do to at least try to sit back down and lean forward, hoping that it would keep him from pitching back anywhere close to the fire, and his last thought before it went dark?

He should have drank some water.

…

“I should have known,” Sam said quietly. “I should have been paying attention.”

Danny felt for him - because if it had been Sam who’d passed out instead of him, he’d feel the same way. Why hadn’t he seen the signs? What could he have done differently? What if, what if, what if.

He drained the last of the water bottle and pitched it over in the same direction the gatorade had gone, uncaring if it hit its mark or not, and drew Sam in for a cuddle. Sam clutched at him, lightly brushing his hand down Danny’s back, just glad to have him there in their bed and not in a hospital. 

“There’s nothing you could have done, sweetheart,” Danny insisted gently. It wasn’t often that he called Sam petnames, but his boy seemed to need the extra comfort at the moment. “It happened so fast - literally within the span of like, two songs.”

“Yeah. Two songs I wasn’t looking at you for.” Sam sighed and shifted his weight to his elbow, drawing himself up so that he could look down at Danny with a severe expression. “I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of tour,” he warned, but Danny just laughed at him and pulled him the rest of the way on top of his body.

Two things happened, then. 

Sam started frantically struggling to get off of Danny and, in the process, his hand pressed down on Danny’s bladder – which was now full of two bottles of fluids – who was suddenly very aware of how badly he needed to pee.

“Okaaaaaay,” Danny hissed, covering his crotch and rolling Sam off at the same time before he hit another extremity, “what the fuck, Sam?”

“I don’t want to hurt you! That’s gonna make you too hot!” Sam huffed, standing up so that he was completely off the bed. 

Danny took a deep breath and shot Sam a small, disgruntled glare and trudged to the bathroom. “What ever happened to me being the hurt one? Shouldn’t I get what I want?” he grumbled, pouting and not even trying to hide it. “And not getting punched in the groin?”

They bickered from separate rooms as Danny relieved himself and Sam gingerly got back onto the bed, sitting against the pillows instead of laying down. Danny frowned when he saw the change in position, but got in bed anyways, plastering himself against Sam’s side in protest as he draped his arm around his waist and let it hang heavy there.

When Sam didn’t say anything, Danny decided to make the ending of his story clear. “So, yeah. That’s what happened,” he said. “I remember waking up once in the green room, but passed out pretty quickly again, and then we were here.” Sam nodded and sighed again, and Danny took his hand, his own anxiety growing at the silence. “Hey…I love you,” he said quietly, abruptly; he was a little bit worried about Sam’s lack of response and wanted the assurance of his voice – Sam was still trying to find his comfort, and Danny wanted to contribute as much as he could. 

Even as crazy about the other as they were, the two men didn’t often exchange the words unless they were whispered into skin after sex or right before they fell asleep, when their bodies were curled around each other and created a space for feelings to spill out in an exhale just before they lost consciousness.

It hadn’t been Sam’s intention to cause Danny unease in the wake of his silence, but in the retelling of the events leading up to it, he’d begun piecing together what happened immediately after. That’s what he’d been thinking of – that’s what he’d been deliberating on.

“I love you, too,” Sam returned, planting a small kiss on the back of Danny’s hand and gratefully accepting Danny’s form of reassurance.

There was a small squeeze from Danny’s fingers that caught Sam’s attention, and he lifted his head to meet Danny’s eyes. “Your turn.”

“My turn to do what?”

“Story time,” Danny said, as if it was obvious. “I told my end, I wanna know what happened after I passed out.”

Sam tried not to blush, but since his memory was coming back, he really couldn’t help it. “I don’t really remember much,” he said vaguely. “I mean…you passed out, we took care of you, and that’s it.”

Danny was quiet for a second, and Sam looked up to see if he’d bought his half-truth.

He hadn’t.

“Bull. Shit.” Danny intoned, letting his hand go to cross his arms. “I’ll just ask Jake or Josh tomorrow if you don’t tell me. Come on, Sam - I deserve to know.”

Sam thought about how he’d feel if he’d been the one doing the passing out, and - yeah…he’d want to know, too. So, he sighed and thought back to the bang, crash, scream, and panic.

…

Danny did pass out forward – right into his kit. 

That was where the bang and the crash came from - Sam had looked because that wasn’t part of the show, and if Danny was gonna improvise, it was gonna be at least a little bit rhythmic, not the all-in-one drum slam noise that came from his direction. And where he’d been expecting Danny to be grinning at his joke, maybe blushing because he dropped something by mistake, he was met with the sight of the listless body of his boyfriend slumped over his kit, panicked stage hands yelling and rushing over to him.

“Danny!” 

There was no hesitation in Sam’s action when he was faced with the decision of the man behind the drums or the call of the crowd. He threw the strap of his bass off his shoulder without a second thought, not even concerned with the grating, cringe-producing sound of it hitting and slapping against the hard stage floor, feedback scratching from his speakers.

As soon as he was within distance of Danny, he had his hands on him, another addition to the wet rags and ice packs that had materialized in the crew’s hands. “What’s wrong? What the fuck happened? Why is he– is he okay?”

The twins were quickly by his side, asking the same questions, stress evident on their faces. The medic on staff was shooing people back, snapping at them to give Danny some air, but Sam refused to leave his side, selfish as it may have been.

She bent over the unconscious man, feeling his pulse and completing a quick once over as the stretcher was brought over. “I think…this looks like heat syncope,” she said, feeling Danny’s pulse and face. “Heat exhaustion. Come on, let’s get him on a stretcher and off the stage - he needs to get away from the fire and lights.”

A few people began easing him back and lining him up with the hard, orange stretcher many of the venues came equipped with, and Josh put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Go with him. We’ll do damage control and find you soon.”

Sam’s tunnel vision opened up a little bit to include the murmurs of the crowd, hesitant titters flowing throughout the big venue. “Yeah,” he said, nodding, “thank you.”

He followed the line of people off-stage, catching a few comforting words coming out of Josh’s mouth assuring the crowd that Danny was alright and that he’d just gotten a little too hot. But he lost them as they got further away from the stage.

“I told you that he needed more ventilation back there four shows ago,” the medic said sharply to the stage manager. The stage manager was quick to defend himself, saying that ventilation other than a fan was practically impossible unless she wanted him to rearrange the entire venue. “The fire was a bad idea,” she mumbled, obviously trying to keep that opinion to herself with two members of the band (if you counted the one who was passed out cold), but Sam still caught it.

The fucking fire.

The culprit, and by proxy - Josh.

Back in the green room, with cold rags covering almost every inch of skin Danny had to offer without being indecent, Sam listened to the medic arguing with the tour manager about hospitalization. If it was serious enough, whether or not they’d even admit him, if they should go now or wait until he woke up - but ultimately decided that they’d see where they stood once Danny woke up.

“We should leave him here, try not to move him.”

As soon as the suggestion was thrown out, Sam immediately vetoed it. “No. The venue needs to close and we don’t know when he’s gonna wake up. Plus the A/C is spotty - the hotel will be more comfortable.” He left out the small component of added privacy back at the hotel - that they’d be in their room where there weren’t crew members continuously walking through and Sam’s concern and his yearning to touch and cuddle and mother his boyfriend would be out of reach of prying eyes.

“Sam–” the medic tried to reason.

Sam didn’t want to be disrespectful - he knew that the medic had a much more extensive knowledge of what Danny was going through at the moment, but Danny was gonna wake up, and he knew his boyfriend would rather wake up in a private room rather than one where he’d feel as though he was imposing. 

“No,” Sam said again. “It’s not like he has a head injury. He’s safe to move and I know that’ll be harder to do than leaving him here and I’m sorry about that, but –”

He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder and a voice at his ear. “Sam, stop it.” Jake had come into the room without Sam noticing and had seen the beginnings of his tantrum. “They’re thinking of Danny. Don’t try to make it seem like they aren’t – we’re all worried.”

The stern, scolding manner of Jake’s voice ticked Sam off in just the right way. Maybe he was overreacting, but who could really blame him? He was about to snap back when the door opened again.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Josh’s voice filtered in from where he’d entered, and Sam turned from one twin to the other to poke his brother aggressively in the chest, garnering a shocked, very confused, and a little bit indignant reaction from Josh. “Hey!”

“It was too much fire, asshole!”

Even Sam was a little taken aback at the hostility in his voice. He needed to tone it down or he’d create another problem for himself – he knew he wasn’t actually angry at Josh, but the stress was getting to him and his brain had latched onto that idea of the fire being too much and, subsequently, Josh’s request back when the tour was still being planned for, when he quoted, “As much fire as fucking possible.”

Sam sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose, putting his hand up in surrender and in a silent apology, to which Josh nodded infinitesimally. Sam was grateful for the unspoken language that all four of them had managed to perfect with the time they spent in each others’ presence. “We’re not Metallica,” he said, softer, with a croak and a swallow that punctuated the end. “We don’t need this.”

Josh looked a little guilty and Sam knew he’d feel bad later.

…

“Do you?”

Sam knew what Danny was asking and bobbled his head. “A little bit. I think he knew that I was just stressed. A little frantic.” 

Danny’s arms wrapped tighter around Sam and bodily moved them down the bed so that they could snuggle, despite Sam’s weak protests. “I’m actually a little bit cold, now,” Danny reasoned, slipping a hand underneath Sam’s shirt to rub his thumb against his ribs. “I think maybe you should apologize.” Sam scoffed at the prospect, but Danny continued, “It’s not his fault. Or the fire’s. Really.”

The groan that came from Sam’s mouth was long and whiny. “But it contributed to it,” Sam stressed. He knew Danny was right, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So, with one last groan, he turned away from Danny and reached for the hotel phone.

“You have a cell phone, you know,” Danny said amusedly. “What if he’s asleep?”

Sam rejected the concept. “As if. And if he is, then he’ll wake up. Also, you need food in your stomach. Want a smoothie or something? I can call down to room service.” Danny was about to answer when Sam raised his eyebrows over his shoulder. “But no fast food stuff. Or soup. Or pizza. Too much salt - that’ll just dehydrate you.”

Danny pouted. “But I wanted Dairy Queen. And the kitchen will be closed by now - we’ll have to order out.”

“Fine,” Sam conceded. “But choose something else. Please,” he tacked on at Danny’s unimpressed stare.

“Yes, mother.” They eventually settled for a couple of salads from a late-night restaurant nearby that would be delivered by the hotel to their room. As Danny was placing the order (and sneaking a large order of fries to share in), Sam called Josh’s room, listening for two tones before the man picked up.

The conversation was short, and Josh said that he understood, admitting that even he hadn’t been thinking of the heat-related consequences having that much fire on stage could bring. But Danny took over the phone to further reassure Josh that he didn’t blame him, and that for the last time, it wasn’t the fucking fire’s fault, Sam.

Once Sam had done all the apologizing he felt he could physically force out of his mouth (which wasn’t much), they hung up the phone and Danny had yet another water bottle shoved in his face.

“I’m not continuing the story until you drink,” Sam warned, and this wasn’t a hill Danny wanted to die on, so he broke the seal and drank. Once satisfied with the amount, Sam sat cross legged across from Danny and kept talking.

…

No one really wanted to argue with Sam in that moment about where Danny would go, so the medic chewed her lip and gave the okay to transport Danny into the van, still strapped to the stretcher, and then to the hotel with the warning that she’d be coming to check on him every hour, and if he wasn’t awake within six hours, she’d call an ambulance.

Sam had readily agreed and stayed right by Danny’s side the entire time, even scrunching himself between the front seat and the back on the ground so that he could study Danny’s face and make sure he didn’t wake up suddenly.

Staff had allowed them to use a back entrance to get Danny up to their room real hush-hush, which was nice because Sam wasn’t sure how he’d react to someone asking what happened, and he didn’t want to take that chance.

It was up the elevator, to the room, and into bed, which was when Sam had taken the initiative to stock the table with drinks, hike up the A/C, and actually listen to what the medic told him to do when he argued – passive aggressively and on the down-low – against her staying in the room with them until Danny woke up.

Again, he just wanted a little bit of time alone with his boyfriend so that he could process everything that had happened without other people around to pick apart his mannerisms or actions or words or feelings. 

He wanted it to be just him and Danny.

“As soon as he wakes up, call me, make sure he gets some fluids in him, and don’t let him get up and move around a whole lot. That means,” she said, looking away from Sam’s eyes and pausing to think about the best way to phrase it, “no…strenuous activity–” Sam had to bite back a small smile at the implication, but was also quite offended that she seemed to be under the impression that he would jump Danny’s bones the first chance he got whether he was hurt or sick or otherwise not in a ‘jump-your-bones’ state, “--until I can clear him. Capeesh?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Sam agreed, standing awkwardly next to the bed, waiting to get in until she left.

Fortunately, she took her leave then, letting the door click shut behind her as Sam finally took the opportunity to lay himself along Danny’s side - not quite touching him in fear of the shared body heat - and zone out to process.

He was jerked out of his own little world a while later by a knock at the door, not realizing he’d taken Danny’s hand in his. A little unwilling to leave Danny’s side, but still knowing it was probably the twins, Sam got up, pushed the handle down, and opened the door. He’d been right – Jake and Josh walked in immediately, taking in Danny still passed out on the bed.

“How’s he been?”

Sam glanced toward the bed as well. “Conked out good. Hasn’t even so much as twitched.”

The twins hummed, but there wasn’t anything else to say except what the medic had told him, and that information was passed along quickly.

“I talked to the stage manager,” Josh said. “He’s making arrangements for a couple of big fans to be brought out at the next venue for him so he’ll have a little more air flow. The only problem they’re working with is how not to catch the smoke and create a new problem.”

Sam blinked. “I’m sorry, the smoke?” The twins glanced at each other like they’d been expecting this (which, in all honesty, they probably were). “We’re not having any more fire, Josh. Not after this.”

“Sam, the tour would lose so much money if we don’t use those things,” Jake reasoned. “The renting company isn’t going to give us a refund for the last, what - five shows?”

But Sam wasn’t having it. “We are not using them. They can do the math and take it out of my fucking paycheck, but I won’t play a single goddamn bass line if I see so much as a wisp of smoke coming from those things.”

Not wanting to get into it, and knowing that Sam was still in a state that wasn’t going to be conducive to collaboration or reason, Josh put his hands up. “How about we wait until Danny wakes up, and we can talk about it as a band. He should be included in this conversation.”

Jake nodded in agreement, but Sam just glared at them. “Fine. We’ll talk later. But if we’re not gonna talk now, then get out of my room.”

He felt a little immature saying that, but he was riled up again, and that was bad vibes when it came to a still passed out Danny. Sam didn’t want any of that negative energy in the room.

The twins rolled their eyes but stepped out, leaving Sam with the low hum of the A/C and Danny’s breathing once he got close enough.

“They’re being selfish,” Sam muttered to Danny, knowing he couldn’t hear him. “But I doubt you’ll be on my side when you wake up, either, you selfless bastard. We’ll have to talk.”

And then, disregarding his previous restraint in regard to skin-to-skin contact, he wrapped Danny in a hug and waited for him to wake up.

…

Danny was incredibly, undeniably, helplessly in love with this man.

Pulling Sam into his lap, Danny kissed him, long and deep, and murmured, “Thank you for taking care of me, Sammy,” against his lips.

A light flush covered Sam’s throat, and he gave Danny a peck back. “Always,” he said, but made no move to take the conversation nor the action further, despite Danny’s hands – having fast switched to roaming Sam’s sides under his shirt – obviously itching to progress their state into one of more undress, but waiting for a go-ahead which Sam did not give.

All of the sudden, Danny’s hands stopped. “Wait. Didn’t you say the doc told you to call her as soon as I woke up?” 

Sam made a face and shrugged, leaning into Danny’s body. “Yeah. But ‘as soon as he wakes up’ is subjective, in my opinion.”

Danny’s snort shook his whole body. “Um, I don’t think she’ll see it that way. Wanna call her before she comes up here herself and sees me awake?”

“Not really,” Sam answered. He didn’t give any further explanation, but Danny picked up on the protective theme throughout the story. Sam didn’t want other people taking care of him - he could do that himself. 

And Danny could bear with that – a few more minutes to themselves before they’d inevitably have to deal with the small shitstorm he’d accidentally created. Plus, with Sam in his lap, and energized now that he had a few hours of sleep under his belt, Danny’s mind quickly turned dirty and he resumed his previous quest of getting Sam’s shirt off, remembering that the doc had said something about this exact scenario when he looked at Sam for permission and was once again avoided.

“Wait,” he muttered again, even though he was the only one actually physically doing anything that required waiting, lips having been drawn in by the proximity of Sam’s neck, “so does that mean we have to have permission to fuck, now?”

Sam laughed at the abrupt change in topic and tune, humoring Danny only for a moment before shutting him down. “Just this time. But yes. And also no.”

“No?” Danny was interested. He figured if they’d already broken one rule, why not break them all? Classic Sammy mentality that Danny could actually get behind for once.

“Not tonight, Danny. We’re keeping things PG. Maybe PG-13.” And then, the record scratch stop. The rejection came as both a surprise and a conundrum for Danny until Sam’s next words. “You’re…fragile.”

The offense that Danny took had nothing to do with being perceived as fragile and everything to do with the concept that he was too fragile for sex.

He sputtered at Sam. “I’m not fragile! Babe, come on,” he whined. He and Sam both knew he would never coerce Sam into doing things he didn’t want to do, but Danny also knew that his hesitation had nothing to do with Sam not wanting sex and everything to do with his fear, evident in the way Sam’s expression bobbled from the burgeoning wisps of desire and back to stubborn concern, which Danny needed to address. He rolled on top of Sam before he could process it, wrapping Sam’s arms around his neck. “Feel me, Sammy. I’m not warm anymore. The hottest person in here is you,” he teasingly flirted, “are you sure I shouldn’t call someone for that?”

Sam rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face, but did take the opportunity to gently skate his fingers across Danny’s skin. He was right; there was no trace of the unnatural heat to Danny’s skin that he’d felt at the venue, and Danny had drank two water bottles and a gatorade by now. But still—“I don’t want to be the reason you break again, Daniel,” he maintained. “I don’t.”

Danny shook his head, giving Sam an Eskimo kiss at the same time. “You won’t, babe. Look,” he cajoled, rolling his hips smoothly into Sam’s, “I can show you just how tough I can be.” 

Despite his efforts, Sam just tightened his arms and used the leverage to pull Danny down, his weight on top of Sam something he’d been wanting all night but had been a little afraid to do. “No, Daniel. Because I swear, if you pass out while you’re literally inside me,” he warned in Danny’s ear, “we’ll both be celibate until temperatures drop below 70 degrees.”

The laughter Danny let out vibrated into Sam’s neck, making him shiver. “Then you fuck me. It’s not like it doesn’t work both ways.” Then after a second, but before Sam could respond, “And you couldn’t keep your hands off me that long.”

Sam pushed Danny off with a snort. “Oh, fuck off. I totally could.” But the protest was weak and they were both aware neither of them wanted the other’s hands off of them for any extended period of time. “And passing out when I’m inside of you is fucking worse.”

Danny grinned. “Not even a little bit flattering?”

“Nope,” Sam said, and then looked at his watch. Well, where a watch would be if he was actually wearing one. “Oh, look at the time! I’d better call the doc,” Sam sighed dramatically, and then actually got his phone and called her while Danny scoffed and pouted beside him. “She’ll be here within a few minutes,” Sam said victoriously, then eyed Danny’s half-mast. “You might want to calm down.”

Danny was still muttering in discontent when the medic arrived, doing her thing, checking his vitals, and making sure everything was back to the way it was supposed to be.

“Well,” she said, wiping her thermometer off with an alcohol wipe after retrieving it from underneath Danny’s tongue, “all seems to be normal. I’d say definitely no hospital required, and you are free to play your next show with the promise that you’ll actually drink water this time,” she said sternly, having glared at him when he told her that was the most likely perpetrator of the whole thing.

“Will do,” Danny agreed charmingly. And then, with a mischievous look towards Sam that Sam didn’t often see without prior prompting from no one other than himself, asked, “And that means I’m cleared for everything else, right?” The medic looked confused until Danny politely clarified, “The uh…the strenuous activities?”

“Oh,” she laughed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Yeah, that too.”

This time, Danny wore the victorious grin and Sam was the one giving unimpressed looks in Danny’s direction until the woman left. “You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that much,” Sam sighed as he made the first move, pressing on Danny’s chest until he was laid out on the bed once more. “But I guess - since we have the go ahead and you’re so obviously gagging for it…” Danny finally tugged Sam’s shirt up and Sam helped it the rest of the way off, only to yelp when Danny flicked his nipple in retaliation to his quip. “Fucker!” he hissed.

And Danny laughed. “Not until you get the lube, baby,” he grinned, pulling Sam’s hips so that he could grind against him. However, once he’d finished his joke, he settled down for a moment, rubbing Sam’s hips with his thumbs. “You that we don’t actually have to fuck, right? I don’t want you to have to be worried about me, and I’m always down for a nice cuddle, instead.”

Sam scoffed playfully and looked down to where his body was laid atop of Danny’s. “And waste this opportunity now that we’ve gotten the all clear? Absolutely not. Where’d the desperate boy we’ve been seeing tonight go?” he teased, baring his neck to Danny as his boyfriend took advantage of the green light he’d been given and begun placing light kisses to his throat.

Against Sam’s skin, Danny murmured, “Oh, he’s right here, I promise. But, seriously. If you’re gonna fuck me, go get the lube.”

Sam lifted himself off and went to retrieve a tube out of the stash they had, coming back to a naked Danny on the bed (a sight Sam swore he would never get bored of), but only laid it by the pillows as he straddled Danny’s hips again.The room quieted as Sam took Danny’s mouth with his own, sighing into the kisses and reveling in the feeling of Danny’s tongue against his. He loved Danny’s lips - kissing, talking, sucking him off, singing in the shower, whatever – and loved that he got to do this.

Once he’d gotten his fill and Danny’s mouth was left red and a little slick and swollen, Sam smoothed his hands down Danny’s chest, slowly, gently, reverently. He purposefully stayed away from the erogenous zones he knew oh so well, and Danny eventually took issue with that. 

“Sam,” he huffed after the third pass of Sam’s palms on his thighs, dick twitching in anticipation every time they got close and a drop of disappointment marring his face every time he passed it by, “are you gonna touch me or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

While the idea was attractive to Sam, he laced his fingers through Danny’s, peppering kisses over his face and neck. “Shhh, I will,” he hushed, “Let me take care of you. I told you I would, didn’t I? Can’t I?”

Sam stopped to look Danny in the eye, a softness there that Danny had loved since they were kids, when the only thoughts of romance manifested in stuck out tongues and expressions of disgust, and knew that Sam needed this just as much as he did. Perhaps by letting Sam take care of him, he could do the same for Sam.

He nodded, drawing one of his hands out of Sam’s to cup his cheek, the atmosphere still charged, but more tender, now. “You did. You can. Anything you want.”

A sweet smile graced Sam’s lips at the affirmation, and he slid the rest of his clothes off before he finally took Danny in hand, the stimulation making Danny sigh quietly and relax. While he set a slow pace with that hand, Sam reached for the lube again and expertly flipped the cap open with his thumb, readjusting their positions so that his hips were cradled between Danny’s thighs before he left Danny’s dick to slick up his fingers. 

Some people were uncomfortable with quiet sex, trying to fill the awkward moments with moans and words and music and ambiance, but Sam and Danny were not those people.

They made noise when they felt compelled to do so, but in these beginning moments, when the initial touches were being made and their bodies began to sync up and tune into each other, they were content with the sound of skin on skin and the soft breaths of their lover to tell them where they were.

So, when Sam breached Danny’s body with his fingers, and the only sound that came out of Danny’s mouth was another sigh and an audible swallow, he smiled. He knew he was making his boy feel good. He knew he was taking care of him just as he needed to be.

However, while subtlety had its moments, Sam took infinite satisfaction in the sharp sound on the intake of a breath and Danny’s subsequent, “Sammy!” when he hit a good spot. He targeted that spot, then, first with the one finger he had, and then with the addition of another, and watched as he worked his boyfriend into quite a state of wanton desire. It was love, lust, desperation, and a certain brand of dependence born of a healthy relationship and vulnerability that he heard in the way Danny said his name and moved his hips and looked at him with those dark eyes that held so much love and joy.

Sam couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked softly, returning an uncharacteristically serious pet name. “I wanna show you…how– how much I…”

For some reason, he couldn’t get the words out without feeling as though he’d break into a monologue. How much he loved Danny. How badly he’d been scared. How much he wanted to take care of him and smother him with affection and spoil him until nothing bad could ever happen to him again.

“Do it, Sammy, love,” Danny encouraged with a kiss to the palm of Sam’s free hand. “Show me.”

Drawing his fingers out and adding more lube to stoke onto himself, Sam made sure nothing would hurt and finally pushed himself into Danny with a low grunt - tight, hot, wet, and his - his, that was whole and healthy and with him now. “I will,” he whispered, “I’ll show you, I promise.”

And Danny wanted to tell him, you already have, but Sam’s hand was on his dick again and Sam’s mouth was on his throat, and Sam’s heart was beating in time with his own and he remembered that this was something Sam needed as well, as an assurance to himself. 

Sam knew Danny understood. Not only did the man’s empathy make sure of that, but all of Sam’s love, fear, and dependence were reflected back to him in Danny. He began moving, pushing in deep and staying there with shallow thrusts so that he could plaster himself to Danny from head to toe with that connection that bridged the gap between them. The man underneath him whispered into Sam’s ear, sweet nothings alongside affirmations and praises.

“You take care of me so well,” Danny breathed, “you’re so good to me, Sammy. No one else could do it the way you do– you’re everything that I could ever need. The only thing.”

Sam nodded, picking up the pace a little bit to scratch that internal itch growing in both of them, trying to give Danny everything he had, everything he wanted. “Yeah,” he answered back, simple as that, knowing that Danny would pick up every unsaid word. “I know, Daniel.”

In the shared spaces that their mouths occupied, the air became damp and warm between the two of them, exhalations fanning across a new sheen of sweat and microscopic drops of moisture forming on each man’s skin. But still, Danny kept his arms firmly around Sam’s torso and Sam never moved from where he’d wedged both of his arms underneath Danny’s armpits, clutching them together via his back and shoulders – heat, at this point, be damned.

When Sam’s breaths became ragged, and his hips snapped forward just a little sharper, trying to bring them both to the edge, Danny started rolling his hips upward to place himself. “Just a little more,” Danny forced out, the knot in his stomach tightening and tightening until with one last, sloppy stroke from the tip of his cock to his balls, he whined, whimpered, and yipped out his pleasure in completion. Letting his orgasm rush through him, Danny buried his face at Sam’s temple as he bucked into Sam’s hand, coating it and his stomach with strings of come.

Sam, too, released his high moans just a minute later - short, desperate, staccato sounds that matched the jerk of hips into Danny as he let himself go. 

Danny stroked Sam’s back as he came down, breathing hard against Danny’s neck before mouthing at the skin there, ‘I love you’s escaping from his throat and his heart and his lungs and soaking into Danny's consciousness.

“I love you, too,” Danny whispered back, not letting Sam pull out nor away and keeping him all to himself. “I love you so fucking much, and I’m sorry I scared you, today.”

But once again, at his admission to guilt, Sam shook his head. “Not your fault. I’m always gonna be scared. I…you know that I need you, too.”

“Yeah. I know.”

The A/C was still turned up to the max, and Danny shivered - his sweat actually working this time and cooling him down quickly. He murmured to Sam, wanting to know if he wanted to take a shower or just get up early and do it in the morning. Sam gently pulled himself out of Danny’s body with a small gasp, and immediately collapsed by his side, wrapping himself around the man in answer to his question.

Danny wasn’t going anywhere.

“Tomorrow,” Sam yawned. “Let’s just rest now.”

And Danny could deal with that.

~~~

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