#how he keeps gesturing between himself and the audience

[bubacorn]

(x)

[stevebabey]

Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.

It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.

But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.

Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.

And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.

There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.

He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.

Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.

“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.

“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”

Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.

“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”

A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.

“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”

Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.

“Now is best.”

Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”

Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.

The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.

Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.

“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”

He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.

“What’s going on?”

Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.

“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”

To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”

Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.

Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.

“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.

Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.

“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”

There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.

“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”

The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.

Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”

Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”

Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.

“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.

“…Kissing.”

Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.

“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”

Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”

Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.

“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”

Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.

“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”

A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.

He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.

The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.

“Eddie—” He starts.

“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”

Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.

There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”

Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.

“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.

He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”

Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.

He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.

“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”

Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”

Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.

“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.

Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.

Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.

He can’t find one single ounce of regret.

next part.

[puckinghischier]

Can we pls talk about how Quinn isn’t one to show a lot of physical affection in public but once you start kissing him he forgets all about it! When you start to pull away he gets all mad and upset that you don’t wanna continue kissing him 😩����

“quinn, slow down, buddy. there’s eyes all around us,” you whisper to him, eyes still closed as you pull back from the heated kiss.

he chases your mouth with his, frowning when you bring your thumb up to rest against his bottom lip, prohibiting it from touching to yours again.

“don’t care. need more,” he huffs out, playfully biting the pad of your thumb so you’ll remove the barrier.

smiling at his eagerness, you lean your head back, breaking the contact of your forehead resting against his.

“it can wait until we get back home, yeah?” you open your eyes, noticing the eager fans all around you, not very hidden behind the thin backdrop set up outside of the arena.

the team is doing a charity mixed with fan appreciation event today, walking the “blue” carpet, dressed to impress for the charity auction taking place inside of the large building behind you. As they walk the carpet with their families, however, they’re encouraged to sign autographs and interact with the string of fans lined down the length of the carpet behind a small set of gates.

the two of you had already taken your turn, quinn starting to become a little overwhelmed with the shouts of his name and amount of cameras flashing the farther down the line he got. you stood by his side the whole time, reminding him you were right there.

before you could lead him through the arena door, though, he dragged you to a half hidden corner and pressed his lips to yours, needing a way to ground himself.

you let it go on for a few moments, knowing he needed it, but you knew how private he was when it came to you and how he tries to keep the pda to a minimum at events like this.

“just need another taste,” he tries to go back in for another kiss, but you turn your head, his lips falling on your cheek instead as you laugh.

he pulls back, shocked that you’d deny him.

“q, we’re not exactly invisible back here,” you gesture to the small section of fans that can see right into your hiding spot, finally getting quinn to turn his head and witness your audience for himself.

you see the pout form on his face, crossing his arms and stepping back from you. “forgot where we were for a second,” he mumbles out.

you reach up to smooth out the wrinkled skin between his furrowed brows. “just looking out for us s’all,” you step back closer to him, speaking softly and bringing your hand down to tap the tip of his nose with your finger.

he scrunches his nose up in response, pout still present on his face.

“doesn’t mean i didn’t wanna keep kissing you,” he finally drops his hands to his sides, allowing you to reach out and grab one.

“alright, grumpy britches, you can have as many kisses as you want once we’re inside,” you start pulling him towards the open doors, wanting to escape the chaotic atmosphere yourself.

“uh-uh, the offer was a one time only deal. these lips,” he brings his free hand to draw an imaginary circles around his mouth, “are officially out of service until we get home tonight,” he tells you, turning his head away from you dramatically.

smiling to yourself, you shake your head at your childish boyfriend.

“sure, whatever you say, you grouch,” you tell him, lightly rolling your eyes when he looks back at you, knowing he’ll likely steal another kiss from you before you even make it to your seats, where another sea of curious eyes await you.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study

pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)

warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’

twisted wonderland masterlist

It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.

The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.

You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.

“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”

“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”

Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.  

“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”

“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”

“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”

You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body. 

“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.

“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.

By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media. 

To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.

But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.

Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.

“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”

Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings. 

On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.

After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer.  Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.

So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy. 

Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable. 

So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.

In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform. 

When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.

Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.

It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes. 

In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that  had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality. 

Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine. 

“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”

As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…

“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”

Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.

“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him. 

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.

Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.

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twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

[hearts4werka]

You Look So Sweet

Summary: You and Chris are enemies but behind closed doors you’re secretly dating and one day while you’re waiting for him to get back from hockey practice he does something you didn’t expect… Genre: FLUFF, secret relationship, enemies to lovers, hockey player, cuddles, cute couple, wholesome, heart-warming content Warnings: mild cursing but besides it’s pure fluffy, wholesome and cute content

Me and Chris are dating… but secretly. To the public eye we’re enemies with more tension and hidden flirting than actual enemies should have, everyone always said we should just cut the enemy bullshit because of the tension between us, one day we did but decided to keep it a secret for now.

We always give the public a great show at making us look like we hate each others guts and have pity public fights with each other but when we’re out sight we still bicker but in a different, more flirty and teasing way.

| - 🍂 - |

I was hanging out at the triplets house today and waiting for Chris get home from hockey practice, Nick and Matt were in the living room with me as we talked and occasionally laughed at one of Nicks rants.

The hour of Chris’s arrival comes around the corner and I make myself a bit more comfortable on the couch, laying back and continuing to talk with the others until we hear the front door open and a tired Chris come out from behind them.

Rolling my eyes at his arrival to keep up our ‘enemies’ act, when he’s dropped everything he needed to be made his way straight to me, laying down on top me. Snuggling into my chest as he makes himself comfortable on top of me, Nick and Matt looking at us both with a bit of a confused but also an expected look.

I glance down at Chris and my hand slithers up to his hair, tangling my fingers into the brown locks of his fluffy hairy. A small smile forms on my face as I notice how cute he looks all tired laying on top of me and snuggled into my chest but I quickly cover it up from the others.

He looks so sweet right now.

“Looks like you guys decided to drop the act?” I hear Nick ask, my eyes rip away from Chris almost dozing off and nudge him on the shoulder so he’ll finally realize we currently have an audience.

He groans and lazily lifts his head from my chest and looks around the room with half-lidded eyes but they pop open with realization when he finally gets back to his senses, seeing the knowing looks on his triplet brothers face.

"oh shit..." Hearing him mutter under his breath I softly chuckle at how clueless he was this whole time and just relaxing on top of me this whole time while the guys just watched.

"I called that shit, I knew there was something happening between them" Matt states looking at Nick like they planned on us being together.

"Was it seriously that obvious?" I ask, expecting only one answer thats probably the one that has the most truth in it. Chris doesn't really like to sneak around so sometimes he would just not care if one night he left a very evident hickey on my neck, not thinking of the consequences of that small gesture.

They both agree and say "yeah for sure" "as clear as day" and I chuckle as Chris grumbles something under his breath and buries his face back into my chest, I place a small kiss on his forehead as he sowly dozes off from how tired hes become after a long day of hockey practice and all he wanted to do is to cuddle with his now public girlfriend.

@hearts4wertka

authors note: writing this made me feel all fuzzy inside, this is a bit rushed and short but I decided to write this to reward you guys for being patient with me and pt.3 of missing, love y’all so much 💋

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[zyhkoo]

☆ you bewitched me

Jason Todd x GN!singer

Jason knew that he should keep his distance, but he cant help but fall of Gotham’s most beloved singer. part 1

Jason was currently on patrol with Nightwing, jumping and running between rooftops.

“You seem pretty hyper today” Nightwing commented as he landed beside Jason on the edge of a building.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet.

Dick often teased him whenever he was in a particularly good mood. And today, he was very much in a good mood.

“Shut up” he retorted back at him. “I’m just on a good roll today, is all.

“Are you going to go see your girlfriend again after patrol?” Dick asked, grinning as he eyed Jason’s happy demeanor.

Jason glanced over at Dick. He had to resist the urge to just smack the grin right off his face.

“None of your business” Jason grumbled, keeping his eyes focused on the city below.

“Who’s your girlfriend?” you peeked from behind.

Jason whirled around, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest.

His eyes widened as he saw you standing behind him. His mind was going crazy wondering how in the world you’d snuck up on him like that.

Meanwhile Dick was just laughing maniacally beside him, completely amused by Jason’s reaction to your surprise appearance.

Jason had to resist the urge to glare at Dick.

He focused his eyes on you, who was looking at him with a cheeky grin.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Was on patrol and wanted to see you boys.” you answered.

Dick chuckled again. “You just wanted to see this one” he said, gesturing at Jason.

Jason was about to snap at Dick but managed to hold himself back.

“Oh,” you frowned, “guilty as charged.” you joked back.

Jason could feel his cheeks heat up a bit as you admitted it.

He glanced over at Dick to see if he was going to say anything and thankfully he didn’t.

He turned back to you, trying to act casual. “You couldn’t have waited until we got back to the Bat-Cave?” he asked, crossing his arms.

You crossed your arms “Came all the way to find at least one of you then you want me out?” you huffed “Okay, I see.”

Jason couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at your little act.

“Don’t put words in my mouth” he said, a bit amused. “I didn’t say I wanted you out, I just said that you could’ve waited instead of sneaking up on me” he replied.

Dick was watching the whole interaction and found it absolutely hilarious. He could clearly see that Jason was trying so hard to act like his usual grumpy self, but failing miserably.

Jason glanced over at Dick who was clearly trying to hold back another laugh. He was getting fed up with how amused he was getting by the whole situation.

He let out a small huff before looking back at you. “Look, you’re here already so you might as well just hang out with us until patrol’s done” he said.

You unfolded your arms “Sweet.” you moved to look at the city down below.

Jason kept his eyes on you as you walked closer to the edge.

He kept a close eye on you, as usual, making sure you didn’t accidentally do anything stupid.

Jason had no doubt that you were a great vigilante. He had seen firsthand how strong and smart you were during patrols.

But there was also another side of you that Jason adored just as much.

He loved watching you perform.

He didn’t know how you managed to perform in front of large crowds or how you were able to do it so confidently and effortlessly.

He couldn’t relate to that at all, he hated having the spotlight on him.

But you? You were completely in your element while you were on stage.

The bat-family was gathered together in the audience, watching as you performed on stage.

Steph and Duke were fangirling over you, while Babs and Cass were all smiles and singing along to the songs they knew. Tim was tapping along to the beat while Dick enthusiastically sang along to the lyrics.

Even Damian was somewhat enjoying the show, even if he was trying hard to hide it.

Jason’s eyes were still glued to you as you continued performing.

He felt a slight nudge and he glanced over at Dick.

“What?” he grumbled.

“Earth to Jason,” Dick said with a smirk. “You’re completely drooling!”

Jason quickly snapped out of it and realized he’s been openly staring at you this whole time.

He felt his cheeks heat up as he quickly looked away.

“I’m not drooling” he mumbled.

Dick heard this time and time again.

“Yeah, and you’re not in love with her either, right?”

Jason rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath.

He knew Dick already knew about his feelings for you (almost everyone did), but he still hated dealing with his teasing. But at the same time he didn’t mind.

“Shut up.” he hissed.

You tapped your mic then strummed your guitar “Okay, I haven’t released this song on any platforms. But I figured I’m going to sing it here first before I release it.” you told the crowd.

The crowd cheered as you announced a new unreleased song.

As you strummed your guitar, Jason recognized it a bit. As you sang, he definitely knew where this came from.

He knew this song, you had sung it to him before.

He felt his heart thump in his chest as he listened to you sing, singing the very same lyrics you sang to him in the privacy of your apartment.

Jason couldn’t believe you were actually singing the song you sung to him all those months ago.

The memory of your late night singing session in your apartment was still fresh in his mind. He could still recall the warm and intimate atmosphere, as you sang so softly just for him.

He couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his chest as he thought back to that moment.

As you stopped the song you smiled at the crowd. “Um, I wrote that for a friend.” you nervously chuckled as you scan at the VIP area up above where the bat-family was.

The crowd cheered and applauded as you finished the song.

Jason’s heart beat faster as he heard you say it was written for a friend.

He knew damn well it was for him. You didn’t sing those lyrics for no reason.

The rest of the bat-family was glancing around at each other, clearly all knowing you were talking about Jason.

Dick was grinning widely, obviously enjoying Jason’s reactions.

Jason just sat silently, trying to maintain his stoic demeanor but failing miserably as his cheeks turned slightly red.

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, and he knew they were all enjoying this moment a bit too much.

“What?” He looked at his family.

His family members all had amused smiles on their faces.

Dick was still grinning, while Steph and Duke were both squealing loudly. Babs had a knowing smirk, and Damian even had a tiny bit of a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up” he muttered, folding his arms and looking away.

The bat-family made their way backstage, eager to see you and congratulate you on your performance.

As they made their way deeper backstage, they eventually found you talking to the stage crew and the backup dancers.

As soon as you saw the bat-family approaching, you brightened up immediately.

You hugged all of them but noticed that Jason wasn’t there.

“Where’s Jay? you asked “I’m right here,” a voice said from behind you.

Jason suddenly appeared from behind you which made you jump a bit.

You turned your head with a smile and immediately pulled him in a hug.

His arms automatically wrapped around your back, pulling you closer to him.

He tried to play it cool and act nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips as he held you.

“Ah- Jason, wait I can’t breathe!” you wheezed.

Jason didn’t realize he was hugging you so tightly until you spoke up.

He immediately loosened his grip, but still held you close to him.

“Sorry” he mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed that he was getting so affectionate in front of his family.

You let go of his grasp and faced everyone “Why don’t we all go eat somewhere?” you said as you specifically eyed Bruce.

Bruce, on the other hand, let out a small sigh, realizing there was no way he could say no to you.

"Alright, where do you want to go?" he asked, everyone started brainstorming.

The bat-family members all started throwing out different ideas

“Thai food..

“Burger place.”

“Italian.”

“Pizza!”

“Sushi.”

“Steak!”

Jason stood silently, just watching his family members all debate where to eat.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly overwhelmed by the different suggestions.

“How about we let Jason decide?” Dick says.

Oh, great.

All eyes turn to Jason as they try to convince Jason to choose their option.

“Jason say steak please.” you pleaded.

Jason felt all eyes on him, everyone eager for him to make a decision.

He heard your pleading tone as you begged for him to choose steak, and the way you said his name sent a small flutter to his heart.

“Steak” he finally said, the word slipping out of his mouth without even thinking twice.

Everyone let out a mix of groans and cheers.

Bruce looked relieved that a decision had finally been made, while Damian just rolled his eyes.

“All of you are like children.” Damian says.

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to Months.

Jason had come to look forward to your constant presence in his life. From your regular hangouts to your late night phone calls and everything in between, he craved it all.

Jason found it harder and harder to deny his feelings for you, but he still somehow managed to keep it under wraps.

He knew his family members were getting fed up with him holding back, especially Dick and Tim.

They both kept pestering him, saying how painfully obvious it was that he was completely smitten with you. But Jason just brushed them off, pretending like he didn’t know what they were talking about.

You were walking in the batcave then saw the three of them talking about…. you.

You hid behind a wall listening in.

“Why can’t you just tell her?” Tim asks as he crosses his arms.

Jason grumbled a bit as Tim asked him the same question again.

“Because,” he replied, “It’s not that simple. Do you think dating a star is gonna be easy?”

“You’re just making excuses, Jay” Dick chimed in. “You know they like you, so why are you holding back?”

Jason grumbled, feeling frustrated as he knew he couldn’t deny what they were saying.

“I just can’t, okay?” he snapped back. “It’s not that easy to just confess to someone like them.”

You felt your heart sink a bit as you heard Jason's words.

You couldn't help but wonder what he meant by that. Was the idea of confessing to you really something that he thought was so impossible?.

“Why does it have to be so complicated?” he asked. “You like them, they like you. It’s not rocket science, just ask them out.”

“It’s not that simple,” Jason mumbled, folding his arms. “They’re a star in the industry, they could’ve had anyone they wanted. Why the hell would they want me?”

He felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, that he wasn’t worthy of your time and love. He was worried that his own issues and past baggage would only drag you down and make your life worse.

“I don’t want them to love me, I’m not someone worth wanting.” Jason said.

Jason’s words were completely contradictory to his own thoughts and feelings.

Deep down, he knew that he desperately wanted your love and affection. He longed to be with you, to hold you, to love you.

But his own self-doubt and insecurity kept him from accepting or even acknowledging his own feelings.

His words punched you in the gut, your eyes clouded with pain as you clenched your fist.

Tim’s eyes widened as he saw you around the corner.

Both Jason and Dick turned around, following Tim's gaze and freezing as they saw you standing there.

Jason's face paled as he realized you had been eavesdropping on their conversation.

You were still reeling from what you had overheard, your heart aching at Jason's words about not wanting your love.

Feeling overwhelmed, you stormed out of the batcave, leaving the three men speechless and stunned.

Eventually, Jason snapped out of his frozen state and began running towards the entrance of the batcave.

Dick and Tim both watched him go, knowing that he was going after you.

Soon enough, he found you in the gardens outside the manor, sitting on a bench with your head buried in your hands.

He cleared his throat, trying to get your attention.

"Hey," he mumbled softly, taking a seat on the bench next to you.

“Gah!” you exclaimed, surprised by his presence.

Jason flinched as you exclaimed in surprise, not meaning to startle you so much.

“Sorry.” he apologized softly, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

You looked at him then softened “It’s okay.” you said as you pulled your legs to your chest.

He knew it was his fault for making you feel like this, and he hated himself for it.

The two of you stayed silent for a while.

He knew it was his fault for making you feel like this, and he hated himself for it.

He took a deep breath, knowing he owed you an apology.

“Listen, about what you overheard-” he began.

“So, everything I did was all just casual to you?” you cut him off.

Jason looked taken aback by your question.

“No, no, it wasn’t casual” he protested, shaking his head. “I genuinely enjoyed every moment I spent with you. You don’t have any idea how much I-” he cut himself off, suddenly feeling too embarrassed to finish his sentence.

“Jason, I tried to give away my schedule just to hang out with you. I wrote songs for you. I gave you presents just to show how much I care. I tried to show you that I loved you, but you wouldn't let me that’s why I didn’t say anything.” you said

“But, I wasn’t too sure if you actually didn’t want my love so I just waited till you said something.” you looked at his gaze.

Jason was speechless as he listened to your words.

He felt a pang of guilt in his heart as he realized the extent to which you had gone to show him your feelings.

He had been so focused on hiding his own feelings that he hadn't been able to appreciate all the gestures and efforts you had made to show him how much you cared.

He stared back at your gaze, his expression unreadable.

“I know I’m affectionate to my friends, but it’s different with you Jay.” you looked away, staring at the red flowers in front of you.

“If you want me to stop loving you just.. say the word.”

Jason's heart skipped a beat as he listened to your words.

He knew he should say the word, should tell you to stop loving him. It would be the easy thing to do, the logical thing.

But the words just wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

"I…. I can't," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't ask you to do that."

Your head turned to him “What?” you blinked.

Jason avoided your gaze, feeling conflicted and vulnerable.

"I can't ask you to stop loving me... because I don't want you to," he admitted softly.

He knew he was risking everything by admitting his feelings like this, but he couldn't hold back anymore.

He took a deep breath, gathering all his courage to continue.

"The truth is, I’ve been a complete dumbass for months," he said, finally looking back at you.

"Every time you tried to show me how you felt, I just couldn't accept it. I was scared, okay? I didn’t think I was worth your time or your love. So I kept pushing you away, pretending like I didn't care."

For a moment, you just stared at him. Then you felt your body move towards him as your arms pulled him in a warm hug.

Jason was taken by surprise but he immediately wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tight.

He buried his face in your shoulder, feeling an overwhelming mix of emotions.

All the tension and guilt he had felt for months slowly began to melt away as he held onto you.

"I’m sorry" he mumbled against your skin. "I'm sorry for being an idiot. For making you doubt how I feel about you."

Your hand slowly caressed his hair “It’s okay, I’ll always forgive you either way.” you softly replied, trying to soothe him.

He looked into your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt. But all he saw was sincerity and love.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he felt a warmth spread throughout his chest.

Your hand moved up to cup his cheeks when you saw his smile “There’s my Jason.”

He leaned into your touch, feeling a sense of comfort and peace wash over him. "Yeah, I'm still me," he said softly, his eyes locked with yours.

He gently placed his hand over yours, holding it against his face, feeling the warmth from your touch.

"I'm sorry for being such a dumbass," he mumbled, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. "I won't push you away again, I promise."

"I just.... I’m not good at talking about my feelings, y'know?" he added, "But I'll try, for you. I’ll try my best to show you how much you mean to me."

Your expression softens “And I’ll give you everything I have.”

Jason felt his heart melt as your expression softened and you spoke those words.

He felt undeserving, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but believe you.

He leaned his forehead against yours, "You already have my everything," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jason's lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

When he started dating you, he felt more at peace.

Though he often hung out with you, this was different. Everything felt so intimate and lovely.

He’s usually composed, that is until he touches you and he can't pretend he loses himself again.

You made him a sappy, stupid something out of him. The kind he swore he’ll never be. He feels awake inside a dream.

Jason couldn’t believe the effect you had on him. He had never thought he could feel this way about someone, so vulnerable and exposed.

He used to pride himself on his stoicism, his ability to maintain control. But when he was with you, all of that went out the window.

He found himself craving your touch, your attention, your love. He was like a man possessed, completely bewitched by you.

But Jason especially loved your voice, he could listen to you sing for hours on end.

There was something about the way you sang that captivated him. Your voice, your expression, the way you poured your heart and soul into every lyric.

He loved watching you perform on stage, seeing you shine and shine, but he had to admit that he loved it even more when you sang for him alone.

Those moments, when it was just the two of you, felt like a secret little world that only they shared.

He loved how, after each and every song, you would turn to him with a smile, seeking his approval and praise.

He would shower you with compliments and applause, telling you how beautiful you sounded and how privileged he felt to be the one to witness your talent.

But sometimes, he preferred to show you how he felt. He would pull you into his arms, holding you close and kissing you deeply, hoping to convey all his appreciation and love through his actions.

He wanted to do more than just say it. He wanted to show you how much he loved hearing you sing.

He would pull you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder.

"Sing for me again," he’d murmur, his lips pressing against your neck.

Jason was not one to broadcast his relationship with you to the world.

He liked to keep things between the two of you as private as possible.

He was protective and territorial, and didn’t like the idea of other people knowing intimate details about his life, especially when it came to you.

Your life was constantly put under a microscope, with fans and paparazzi following your every move.

You didn't want that kind of attention to affect your relationship with Jason.

You wanted to keep him away from the public eye, to protect him from the spotlight and the scrutiny that came with it.

But that didn't stop you from longing to tell people that he was yours.

Jason would often feel embarrassed when you would brag about him to the bat-fam or your friends.

He wasn't used to being talked about in that way, and he didn't like being the center of attention.

He would often stand there, trying his best to keep a straight face, while secretly enjoying hearing you talk about how awesome and amazing he was.

The bat-fam found it all too easy to tease Jason, and they often did so, much to his annoyance.

However, they quickly discovered that it was practically impossible to tease you.

You rarely got flustered or fazed by their taunts, and it drove them insane.

Jason would sit back and watch, feeling a mix of admiration and amusement as you effortlessly shut down any attempts to poke fun at you.

Jason's eyes eventually settled on the shelves, where a collection of vinyl records were neatly displayed.

He walked over, taking a closer look at the records. Some of them were of your own albums, but there were also records from other artists that you seemed to enjoy.

He picked up one of your albums, admiring the cover and running his fingers over the title.

As Jason browsed through your collection, he noticed the wide range of genres.

There was pop, rock, jazz, R&B, country, even classical. It was clear that you had a taste for variety.

He picked up a jazz record and held it up "Who knew you were such a fan of jazz?"

You were sitting in an armchair, your guitar on your lap as you strummed a soft melody.

You looked up as Jason spoke, a small smile playing at your lips.

"You don’t know this but I’m a sucker for Jazz.” you replied.

He let out a soft scoff at your response. "I’m learning more and more about you every day," he said.

“The more you know.” you said, taking the record from him.

Jason watched as you took the record from him and opened your record player, placing the vinyl on it.

The music filled the room, a smooth and sultry jazz melody that oozed with elegance and charm.

You turned back at him, then you had an idea “Hey, dance with me.” you offered your hand.

He took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, a smile playing at his lips. "Alright, I'll dance with you.”

Jason treasured every single moment he spent with you.

He adored the way you held his hand, the way you looked at him with those sparkling eyes, the way your laughter would ring out like music to his ears.

He loved the way you would pull him close, the way you would sing for him, the way you would kiss him as if you couldn’t get enough of him.

And in those moments, everything else faded away. There was only you, and him, and the love they shared. He was bewitched.

[princessbrunette]

now how will team mascot jj approach u … elaborate

╭────── · · ౨ৎ · · ──────╮

so mascot!jj isn’t exactly a nerd, not by any extension of the meaning. infact, he’s a social butterfly, a novelty — people know him as the mascot guy and no one could ever replace him, the way he’ll run onto the field mid game and hype the audience up, somehow knowing the moves and joining the cheerleaders in some dances all whilst geared up in a giant tiger costume with the university’s logo on its colourful tshirt. the people liked him a lot.

you’re the shy cheerleader, and jj loves shy girls. he’s the opposite of shy, so it just makes his dick tingle a little. he approaches you after every game, hair sweaty and stuck up in unusual places with the head of his mascot costume tucked under his arm, cheeks all pink. you think he’s cute, in a cool yet dorky way. after a particularly great win, jj is quick across the field to see you. he’s of course bombarded with the barrage of cheerleaders who think he is ‘adorable’, kissing his cheek and ruffling his sweaty hair— because everyone loves the mascot guy.

“alright, alright, let me through ladies.” he chuckles awkwardly, peeling them off him as they aw, embarrassing him slightly. he waddles over to you with a bashful smile, trying to switch his game back on. “really shook those pom poms out there, girl.” he praises, cringing at himself.

“huh?” you giggle, eyes twinkling up at him— which didn’t help him much in getting back on track.

“yeah— uh, nah what i meant to say was you were… great, like dude — when you did that cartwheel? you killed that shit!” he celebrates and you beam, shaking your head humbly.

“really? thank you— i mean i thought it was a little shaky but…”

“you kiddin’ me? you were amazing, and — well,” he gestures to you with his giant paw. “you look amazing. really, like you’re gorgeous.”

you get shy, clasping your hands at your front as you shrug. “thank you j—”

the conversation is interrupted by the football team passing through— a kaleidoscope of jersey colours bursting through between the two of you until rafe cameron himself has arrived, looping you into a hug to celebrate his big win. jj’s face flattens in annoyance before scrunching up awkwardly, looking around and waiting for him to be done.

rafe glances at jj when he pulls away, keeping a hand on your waist. “lets get out of here, alright? too many nobodies.”

jj clears his throat. “yeah, uh— was kinda havin’ a conversation bro but whatever i guess. congrats.” he sarks, irritated making rafe turn back around, eyeing him up.

“oh, well — i’m really sorry about that tony the tiger.” rafe feigns innocence before bursting into a boyish chuckle, making the players around him laugh too. your brows furrow, going to say something but rafe drags you away, leaving you to twist in his grasp and give the blonde a polite parting wave. jj lifts his arm unenthusiastically in his own wave farewell, lips pressed together.

he’s sure he’ll get you alone another day.

╰────── · · ౨ৎ · · ──────╯

[sageofthestarz]

Phantom/Swiss/Dew angsty kinda fluff idk

The Newly summoned Phantom, one not accepted into the pack immediately due to the loss of Aether

They're all in grieving, and can't automatically make that connection. It's not intentional, but it happened

Phantom doesn't realize this though. He doesn't understand why his new pack is so cold to him but so soft and sweet with each other

He desperately wants that connection and goes out of his way to help everywhere he can, gets up when it's still dark out to do the others chores, make breakfast, practice as much as physically possible for him

The others remain cold to him though. Don't realize how the only things keeping him going are the soft touches and praises the others give him. A hand on his shoulder from mountain after he helps in the greenhouse, a soft thank you from Cumulus as she's handed her morning tea

He's exhausted, looking longingly at the cuddle piles that happen randomly when one of the others are having a bad day. Stands off to the side for a maybe slightly awkward amount of time wishing to be invited in. They never realize thats what he's waiting for though. They think he just doesn't want to join in

As they grow to love him more and more they don't realize that the reason he doesn't join them is because he thinks hes not allowed too now. Never being invited, never even having a word that indicated he was

That how cold they were towards him at first is why he now can't just push his way into the group where he wishes

It isn't until they're on tour that he gets cuddles for the first time

It's grueling, his shoulders and back are killing him from the weight of the Fantoman, the way he flings it around like nothing just for the audiences praise

Swiss and Dew are cuddling in the back bedroom one night, the curtains open, a known open invitation for the pack to come and join them

They watch as Phantom whines quietly as he lifts his bag into his bunk, his face screwing up in pain

They look at each other knowingly, Swiss getting up and coming to his bunk, the one under Phantoms

"Hey buggy, you doing okay?" He asks quietly, resting a hand onto his back lightly

The way Phantom sags slightly into the warmth of his hand before tensing back to attention and stepping away "mn fine! Good!" He corrects with a slight smile, the way his eyes look give away how he truly feels though

Swiss hums to himself tugging his blankets off his bunk, a heavy built comforter, a fluffy one with a bever from some American gas station that looked more like a Walmart, and a handmade crochet blanket from Cumulus. The longing look Phantoms eyes said it all

"Well, why don't you come lay down with us? We're trying to find a movie to put on" He offered with a grin

The stifled gasp was enough to make Swiss' grin grow wider, walking back to the back room with Phantom in tow, his tail giving away his excitement

Swiss threw all the blankets down onto Dew who glared him down, eyes looking to Phantom after, curious

Phantom tensed under his gaze before the fire ghoul gestured to next to him. The quint looking to Swiss before he gave a nod as well

He was hesitant but crawled in and sat next to Dew leaving some space between them. Swiss wasting no time flopping down with a groan throwing an arm around the quints shoulders

Dew yawned settling down into the blankets, his heat making the blankets as warm as the electric blanket Phantom loved in the common room back home

The soft purr started before the quint realized, Swiss and Dew sharing a look as Phantom settled into Swiss' side, Dew claiming he couldn't see the TV well and pressing himself against the quints acheing back. His purr only intensified, the heat helping lure him into a daze

It wasn't long before he was a sleepy purring mess between them, Swiss already passed out with the quint in his arms snoring softly. Dew watching the TV mindlessly, head on Phantoms shoulder with his warm hands massaging up and down his shoulders

Dew knew well how heavy the Fantoman was, how sore he would get after a few days of repetitive use. Remembers how Ifrit would do this for him, massage and knead at his sore spots with warm firm hands that always felt amazing

"Could have joined us sooner ya'know." Dew mumbled quietly, Phantoms eyes darting to the fire ghouls

"Didn't think I was allowed.." he said back, whining softly as Dews fingers massaging into a particularly sore spot

"You're always allowed" Dew hummed, massaging with more intent, Phantom sighing allowing himself to go boneless

"Feels good.." he said quietly

"Glad. Come to me whenever you need okay? Know how bad this can get"

"Thank you.." he mumbled nuzzling between them purring loudly

"Get some sleep, we're both here"

That was all Phantom needed before dozing off, comfortable and warm. Dew falling asleep not long after

Let's just say Phantom gets a lot more cuddles after that night

[bianca-mii]

One of the most iconic kisses between our guitarists from the 2022 tour. I can't write as beautifully as @woodswallow, but I made this gifset as I thought there is a very interesting thing to point out.

The Auslaender outro started almost as usual, with Richard feeling the music probably somewhat more.

But this moment shows one massive difference from arguably every other Auslaender's kiss: Richard is not smiling. He's not focused on seducing Paul with that evil grin. There's no tension, no predatory stare. He is... sad? He looks Paul in the eye, and while Paul is in that playful-teasing-I'm-not-that-easy-to-get mode of his, in which he rather avoids eye contact with Richard, he must realize something is off with the lead guitarist...

But they both go for the kiss. In the beginning, I thought maybe Richard was sad, at least partially, because during some of the 2022 shows Paul seemingly didn't feel like having that little smooch. From what I've read, Paul is very uncomfortable with PDA and, in general, tries to keep his private life as far from the public eye as possible. 2019 kisses were fun and outrageous, which Paul loves, and also had a political impact. But by the half of the 2022 tour, it was obvious nobody cared about any political impact anymore and the guitarists kissed just because they like it. Richard doesn't care if people are watching, he may even like it better that way, so perhaps he couldn't entirely understand Paul's hesitation. Also, on the previous show, still in Europe, their kiss was very quick, too quick for Richard's liking:

He made that gesture with his mouth as if he wanted to say: "Ahh, it ended before I could even taste it!" On which Paul said something, maybe like: "I've told you already: quick pecks - for the audience, the actual kisses - only you and me, no witnesses..." And Richard was like: "Oh, okay, but a boy can dream, can't he?"

Going back to Chicago's kiss: so it's not the case that Richard is sad because he thinks Paul wants no public kisses: they go for it as usual. I also don't think he's sad because he'd prefer the kiss to be longer - that doesn't sound like an actual reason to feel sad. It has to be something else.

Whatever it is, Richard tries to pull away first as he probably thinks the kiss will be over by that time anyway. Indeed, it's usually been (if not any other time) Paul who pulls away first; I also think Richard's hand on the back of Paul's neck used to be there for that extra control, to keep him in place just a little bit longer, but it wasn't hugely sufficient. This time though, again, Richard thinks the kiss will be over just after a moment. But what happens next? Especially from this angle, it seems very clear: Paul doesn't let go. And his reaction is really intense: he keeps his lips locked with Richard's, his right hand, put on Richard's shoulder, grabs it more firmly; you can see all his body leaning on his partner; if you look at his butt, it slightly goes up as he maybe even gets on tiptoe.

I remember reading suggestions Richard was that surprised because maybe Paul slipped him some tongue. I'd love to think that, but what I believe really happened was that Paul sucked hard on Richard's lip to keep their mouths together as Richard tried to pull away.

This is not the best quality, but it sort of confirms that theory: you can briefly see Richard's mouth, and then how it literally gets sucked:)

Paul pulls away when it's over but also slightly pushes Richard: "now, that should do!", but Richard, despite experiencing a massive WTF?! moment, remains sober enough to put some pressure on Paul's nape, doesn't let him go, and pulls him back close again, for a hug. He also starts to laugh so heartily that it makes my heart melt. Perhaps he's realized what face he's just made and laughs, just a little bit, at himself too. Paul, on the other hand, briefly returns the hug, but then is all like: "there, there, don't overdo it, babe." He gives Richard a few pats on the back, like the male friends with no benefits would do - he is back into his no PDA mode, and puts his right hand back on Richard's shoulder, this time trying to push him away.

But now Richard does not have it: "nah love, not so fast, you should have expected now I need to thank you for what you've just done... *mwah*". Another kiss on the lips, brief one this time, and finally Paul can go, obviously showing to everybody: "look! Just look at this little naughty thing right there!", Richard is doing something similar for a moment, too (what a complete pair of dorks:D).

So, I imagine Richard was so surprised because Paul not only didn't want to end the kiss quickly but literally forced it to be longer. I love this moment so much for two reasons: it totally makes sense Paul is uncomfortable with PDA, but as soon as Richard feels worse, or Paul gets sentimental himself (like by the end of tours), Paul stops thinking about any discomfort and goes for it with no hesitation, which pretty much says that comforting Richard is simply much more important for him. I think we saw it here, we saw it during Puppe 2023 or this tour after the German football team lost.

What I also more than love, is how Paul's little mouth-to-mouth treatment really brings Richard back to life and turns the night into the day for him (no wonder, who wouldn't be more than alive if they just got a kiss from Landers himself?). Richard is over the moon here, and seeing him undergo such a 180-degree mood switch is an almost otherwordly experience...

Here's the whole video cropped by me, original credit to till_lindemann_pics on ig. One of the other gifs by @davecumstaine, the other one - I can't tell, I downloaded it a long time ago and can't find it here anymore, many apologies;(

[hijackalx]

PARTY OF TWO +18

SUMMARY: You and Gale are looking for a reason to ditch your friends at the tavern— why not make that reason each other?

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, thigh-riding, praise kink, p in v, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, bondage (mage hand), multiple orgasms, love hotel, somewhat switch-y gale

The bustling tavern is filled with the sounds of drunken chatter and the occasional song. You sympathize with the bartender, who struggles to keep up with the demands of slurring customers. You think they wouldn't need so many refills if half of their drinks didn't end up on the floor.

You glance around from your seat at the bar, gaze hopping through patrons. Karlach is on her ninth pint, Wyll captivates a crowd with a far-fetched tale, and Astarion has found a pretty, young thing to entertain himself with. They all carry smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks, something you haven't had the pleasure of seeing in quite some time.

You're glad your friends seem to be enjoying themselves— you know how badly they've been needing to. Their plates have been full recently, so it's nice to be able to settle down for some fun.

As for yourself... well, let's just say you were outvoted when it came to agreeing on what "fun" was. This place is a little chaotic for your tastes, and not to mention tart from all the dwarf sweat and beer. You try not to cringe at how every surface is sticky and how every song that's sung is just slightly off-key.

Amidst your grumbling, a familiar figure takes the open spot beside you, and by the look on his face, you realize you're not the only one who's fighting the urge to be a spoilsport.

Gale— the ambitious wizard from Waterdeep. You two don't speak much, meaning you've yet to break the barrier of "acquaintance". You've never really sat down with him for more than small talk, not even at camp. You will admit though, from what you've picked up about him through eavesdropping has left you somewhat curious.

You think now might be a good time to finally get to know each other better. Besides, it doesn't appear that anyone else is willing to bond over your distaste for such lively establishments.

Your gaze flickers his way, confident and gregarious. Although, the ice-breaker on your tongue melts away once you notice that he's already looking in your direction. There's a slight raise to one of his brows and a tug at the corner of his mouth.

"... Gale—!" You needlessly announce his presence before your voice dies out.

You're not sure what it is, but for some reason, you seem to have forgotten how to speak. Your mouth hangs slack, and your throat is too tight for any words to escape. Maybe his staring caught you off guard— or maybe you'd forgotten just how attractive he is until now.

He sends you a small, perturbed smile, and you instantly feel the responsibility to cease the silence between you. "Sorry," you apologize for your offbeat behavior, then make a gesture to the glass in front of you. "Guess that's a sign to slow down, isn't it?"

It's unclear whether he's laughing at you or with you when he replies, "One too many?"

Your attention gravitates toward his fingers wrapping around his glass, then shifts to the liquid inside as it meets his lips. The sip is quick before he finds your eyes again.

You hope your ogling is averted fast enough to remain inconspicuous. "Not enough to make being here worthwhile," you respond flatly.

He hums in agreement, bouncing his brows up once. "I'm not too keen on taverns myself."

You both watch as Karlach engages in an arm wrestling match with a half-orc man across the room, the audience surrounding them getting rowdier by the minute.

He turns back to you with a smile and a shrug. "I'm more fitted for gatherings of a lesser degree." He pauses, appearing thoughtful before adding, "A bit of one-on-one, if you will."

His last sentence piques your interest, and you scan him inquisitively to figure out if it means what you think it does. There's an air of playfulness to him as you meet his gaze once more, an inviting glimmer in the shadow of his brow.

It doesn't take a genius to know that was an attempt at flirting with you, and if you have any sense, you'll see where this can take you; it's not everyday you get to romp with a man who's allegedly bedded a goddess.

You feign coyness by taking a sip from your glass. "It seems we're both outliers in that respect," you say to him over the chanting invading the building— from it, you conclude the consensus is that Karlach will win the match.

"Observant," he remarks, leaning in your direction. There's a look of confidence on his face that is wholly endearing, not to mention flattering. "I know of a much better place for it. I was thinking about heading there now, actually."

Your brow cocks upward as if the proposition on his mind is hidden from you. "Oh?" you hum, your fingernails tapping at your glass absentmindedly. "... Are you meeting someone?" You ensure that your voice is sweet, yet harboring a hint of longing behind it.

"I suppose it's fortunate I'm not, since I was hoping I wouldn't have to go alone."

You return the grin he gives you, knowing and affirming. A buzz of anticipation blooms in your chest when he places a palm on your knee, beckoning an explosion of heat to the skin beneath it.

Drifting closer, he speaks as if only for the two of you to hear, "you wouldn't mind accompanying an old wizard, would you?" His words are like honey by your ear, smooth and tempting. It sends the slightest shiver down your spine.

He pulls away just enough to meet your eyes, watching, waiting. You pretend to think on it, but he doesn't appear to fall for it for a second. "Hmm... that doesn't seem like it'd be too out of my way."

The hand on your knee flexes into a squeeze, a pleased twinkle in his eye. "Lovely."

You sneak out the door together, allowing him to place a guiding hand at the small of your back. The touch is that of a gentleman's, yet you feel the slightest tremor bubbling its way to the surface now and then.

The tension only rises between you with teasing exchanges. After some playful coaxing, he admits how he'd had his eye on you since the night began— how long he'd been waiting to get you alone.

"What were you waiting for?" You question, intrigued. It's not like anyone was stopping him.

"Approaching someone as sightly as yourself takes the courage of a lion.” He shoots you a flirtatious grin, his stare shameless and unwavering. “As you can imagine, that’s not an easy amount to muster.”

"Courage?" You repeat with a laugh. He's taken aback when you impede his path, a scheming tug to your lips. You study him a moment before raising your hand to his cheek, tilting your head slightly.

With a half-lidded gaze, you follow your fingers as they begin to trace over his bearded jaw. "Do I make you nervous, Gale?" You smile ever so sweetly. Your fingertips travel from his jaw to his lips, just barely touching the soft skin; you feel his warm, uneven exhales against them.

As you slowly bring your mouth to meet his, he seems almost frozen. Though, just as your lips graze, he places a hand at the back of your neck and closes the distance himself.

The kiss is hungry— impatient. His palms slide down to your hips, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body meshes with yours, and the exchanging of your breaths is visible in the cool, night air. You seem to get lost in the embrace, forgetting that you're still on the street; as a result, the hand you have resting on his chest slithers down his torso, a finger slipping into his waistband.

He makes a humming noise and reluctantly pulls away, his grip securing around your wrist to steady it. "Let's not get too eager," he chuckles, though you can tell his arousal is getting the better of him. "We've almost reached our destination— wouldn't want to spoil the fun, now would we?"

You giggle a little bit at the implication of 'spoiling the fun', then allow him to link his arm with yours as you continue onward, your pulse still thrumming with adrenaline. "Will you tell me where we're going?" You nudge him, wondering just what his clever mind has in store for you.

"It's better as a surprise, if that's alright with you."

A surprise, you note, sporting a subtle expression of delight. If you're being honest, your first impression of Gale left much to be desired— you thought he was, for a lack of a better word, simple. But this night has proven you wrong so far, and you hope it'll continue to go that way.

And, much to your amusement, it does.

You stand outside of a two-story building, the cobblestone exterior lit with the flames of lanterns hanging from the balcony. Also placed in distance of the light is a sign that you recognize.

He didn't just take you to any old inn, but an inn specifically for lovers.

While walking to the room he purchased at the desk, he turns to look down at you on the stairs. "So? What do you think?" He says, a lilt to his tone that exposes how pleased he is with himself.

"Would it surprise you if I said I've never stayed here before?"

"You're joking!" His face contorts in an almost scandalized fashion, searching you for any signs of jest. "Well, I guess I'll have to be the one to help you get familiar then." He sends a reassuring wink in your direction, then continues to lead you down the second-floor hallway.

Upon reaching your room, he holds the door open for you, placing a palm on your lower back to direct you in. You're stunned as you enter; the decor is like nothing you've ever seen before— from the circular bed draped with curtains, the luxurious bath, and the decorated mirror anchored to the ceiling.

"This is..." your voice trails off, truly at a loss for words. After hearing the door shut and lock, a presence approaches you from behind. Promptly, you feel the gentle ghosting of lips on your neck.

You inhale sharply as his breath leaves goosebumps on your skin. Hands resting on your waist, he holds you in place as he leaves the softest, teasing kiss behind.

"I know this is ill-mannered of me..." he starts, his voice suddenly deep and gravelly by your ear. "But I cannot wait any longer. Please."

The subtle desperation in his tone makes you shiver. Your lips part as he begins to run his hands up your body, traveling their way along your torso. You let out a small whimper at how his large, calloused palms feel through the thin material of your dress, how warm and inviting they are— how you wish for them to touch your bare body instead.

"Is this still what you want?" The short hairs on his jaw brush your skin as he speaks, breaths hastening as if he's raring for the green light.

You're almost too distracted by how his fingers restlessly bunch up the fabric just below your chest to answer. "Y-yes." You place your hands over his, moving them up. They finally engulf your breasts, his thumbs running over the hardened nipples begging to be freed.

"Yes, what?"

You turn your head slightly to peer at him over your shoulder. "I want you to fuck me." A warmth surges through your cheeks as the sentence leaves your mouth, the vulgarity of it both humiliating and exciting.

He's been anticipating hearing those words all night— keyed up like a dog waiting to be thrown a bone. He places a palm on your jaw and angles you to kiss him; it's reminiscent of the one on the street, but this time he doesn't hold back. It's raw and unrestrained, his tongue meeting yours and his teeth tugging on your bottom lip.

He pulls away to direct your figure to the wall. The material is cold on your cheek as he pins you against it, caging you between his arms. Aching for his touch, you arch your back to press your ass into him. He shamelessly rubs his hard-on against you for friction, letting out a broken moan by your ear and causing your thighs to squeeze together.

His hand snakes beneath the hem of your dress, seeking the pulsing heat between your legs. You widen your stance to give him better access, jaw falling slack as he locates your needy clit through your panties. You grind into his fingertip, impatient with how he toys with you— he picks up a rhythm only to break it, then repeats.

You let out a sound of frustration, and his solution is to stick his thigh between the two of yours.

You quickly pick up on what he's suggesting. “Gale," you say testily, unamused with his games. You'd much rather he'd just fuck you already.

"I want to watch," his voice comes out pleadingly and defensive. He lets out a shuddering breath before he licks his lip and mutters, "please, just… humor me."

The neediness in his tone raises goosebumps on your skin. You throb in response, a new wave of heat gathering to your cunt. You've never considered such an act, but he's convinced you with just a simple sentence. Lowering your weight onto him, you feel how the slick clinging to your folds smears into your undergarment, leaking through to paint your inner thighs.

He groans as he watches you use his thigh to get off, his cock twitching at how you whimper when he flexes the muscle. One hand leaves the wall to settle on your hip, and he uses it to guide you in slow, circular motions, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

His hips buck once he sees the pleasure on your features, a shaky moan leaving his throat. "You look so beautiful like this," he says through ragged breaths of arousal, watching how your brows knead together and your lips separate. "Keep going."

You feel a knot form in your lower stomach as he begins to bounce his knee, sending vibrations to your clit. His tempo is steady and relentless, eliciting a familiar, overwhelming sensation that courses through your veins. "G-gale," you say in a panic, "I can't. I'm going to— I can't—!" You fight off your orgasm with everything you've got, trying not to succumb to the waves of pleasure he sends through you.

You squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you in place. "It's okay, you're okay," he assures you, though he sounds like he's lingering on the edge himself. As if his words are a cue, your eyes squeeze shut and you finish on his thigh. Flashes of white dance behind your eyelids as you moan his name, your body jerking as it tenses repeatedly.

"S-shit," he stutters, biting his lip at how you move against his cock. He seems to hold his breath until you're done, letting out a heavy sigh of relief after he's succeeded in not coming prematurely as well.

He grips your shoulder with one hand, his thumb moving in circles over your skin as you recollect yourself. You attempt to turn around after a moment, yet you find that the buzzing in your legs makes for difficult use.

"Need a lift?" He laughs a bit.

You nod at him, putting your arms around his neck. With his palms settling just below your ass, he lifts you in one swift motion, carrying you in the direction of the bed.

Just as he begins to lay you down, he kisses you again— slow and seductive this time, but somehow hungrier. Your back gently meets the mattress, the fluffy duvet moulding around your shape and encasing you like a cloud. Your mouths begrudgingly disconnect, and as you open your eyes, you're taken aback by the reflection of yourself behind his head.

He notices your surprise, though the way he's looking you up and down says he has more important things on his mind. His gaze is heavy and almost daydreamy as he speaks, "I wanted you to be able to see yourself." He sits up to remove his shirt, tossing it aside before reaching for the zipper of your dress. "I wanted you to see how gorgeous you look while I fuck you."

You arch your back to assist him in removing the garment, watching as he pulls it to the ends of your feet. All your body is exposed except for your cunt, which he seems to be saving for last.

You finally feel his touch on your skin, placing your hands over his as they make a map of your figure. You guide him to your tits, rolling your head back into the pillow as he begins to knead them. His eagerness elicits a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain, the pressure just enough to satiate you.

Your fingers card through his hair as he places sloppy, wet kisses on your neck. The strands fall haphazardly over his features as you knock them from their place. When he sits up, you note how much this look suits him— messy hair, pink lips, and a heaving chest.

Disrupting your ogling, your eyes glance down at the bulge in his pants. You let out an impatient whine, reaching for it. As your fingertips graze the material of his clothes, your wrists are promptly snatched and restrained to the bed.

It all happens so fast, you don't quite realize how he's got you pinned despite both of his hands resting on his thighs in front of you. With furrowed brows, your gaze flits up above your head; a blue, transparent hand holds your wrists down, limbless and airborne. You almost feel silly for not assuming a wizard would use magic— even at a time like this.

"Clever," you cock an eyebrow, sending him a playful grin.

If his face wasn't already flushed, it definitely is now. He seems to get a bit flustered by the praise, smiling back somewhat awkwardly. "I occasionally like to think so."

With that, he begins kissing down towards your navel, his palms running along the sides of your body as he does so. He uses a light, teasing touch, making your skin react with sensitivity. You writhe in the Mage Hand's grasp, at which he peeks upward with a prideful pull to the corner of his mouth.

Once he reaches just above your underwear, he lifts his head, resulting in your body yearning for the return of his warm breaths. His fingers slip beneath the elastic covering each hip, delicately and smoothly removing the article from your figure. His gaze is fixated on your cunt— how it glistens under the lantern light from the bedside table.

He groans involuntarily at the sight, dipping one of his fingers into your contracting hole. It slides in effortlessly, though your walls squeeze around him in excitement. "Oh, Gods..." he mutters to himself, adding a second finger. It fits snugly, and he separates them inside of you to test how tight you are.

You whine, need prevalent in your tone. "Gale—" you choke back a moan as he begins pumping in and out of you. His pace is slow and agonizing, brushing against your G-spot but lacking the right vigor. He seems to be too deep in his admiration, merely doing it for his own enjoyment. "Gale—" in a show of desperation and faltering patience, you use your feet to buck your hips off the bed. "—I need you. Now."

Your plea snaps him out of his trance. He stops altogether, instead becoming awestruck at the sight of your body teeming with desire as it tugs against its restraint. You pout when he removes his fingers, watching as he pops them into his mouth to clean them. His brows come together as he savors the taste, though he doesn't linger on it for long as he quickly begins fumbling with the waistband of his pants.

He pulls the material from his hips, slinging both that and his underwear to the floor. You watch with blown pupils as his cock springs free, wishing you could run your fingertips down the happy trail on his stomach all the way to his shaft.

Holding your stare, he uses his hand to give himself a few pumps, smearing the excess of precum over his sensitive head. His body jolts slightly from the sensitivity, a small moan bubbling up his throat.

With that, he lowers himself on top of you, and you readily spread your legs for him. His tip finally breaches your entrance, and you let out a sound of relief into his mouth as he kisses you. He starts out slow, but you're not sure if it's for your sake or his. A sharp breath is sucked through his teeth as he fully sheathes himself into your warmth, reveling in how your cunt tries to draw him in further.

"You're not making this easy, are you?" His words come out strained by your ear.

You laugh breathily in response. "Maybe that'll teach you not to be such a tease next time."

With a groan, he begins to move. The bed creaks under every thrust he makes, sending ripple after ripple of pleasure to your core. Lewd noises fill the room as he repeatedly delves into your wet hole, the squelching building with his rhythm. Your legs wrap around his back, trying with all your strength to pull him closer, closer, until you finally feel his base hit your opening.

His head moves to nuzzle against your shoulder, and the reflection of your entangled bodies on the ceiling is made visible to you. You watch his back flex with every movement, noting how he completely loses himself between your legs; every now and then you'll see the tendons in his hands bulge as he grips the sheets, or how he kisses your collarbone to cover up a moan.

In your infatuation, you remember him mentioning the mirror being there for you to watch yourself, not him. Your eyes flit back to your face, almost surprised by who's staring back at you— stray hairs decorate your features, your brows are kneaded together in ecstasy, and your puffy, swollen lips are parted to accommodate your ragged panting— you’ve never seen yourself look so out of sorts. In fact, something about it turns you on more.

Just look at what he's done to you, how he's made you unravel for him. He has you restrained to the bed like you're his whore, and you don't even fight it. He begins to fuck you faster, harder, chasing an orgasm, all the while you lie there and let him have his way with you.

The coils in the bed groan as he pounds into you, his grunts continuously more audible than the last. The muscles in his arms tense repeatedly, riddling his limbs with ridges of definition. His rhythm begins to stutter, the motion of his hips getting sloppy with need; there's a desperation to him that tells you he's close.

You arch your lower back so that each of his needy thrusts hits your G-spot, forcing a loud moan from your chest. The persistent stimulation has your core tightening and a pit forming in your stomach as you anticipate your high. You take in a few shallow breaths before throwing your head back, your second orgasm violently ripping through you. Your body squirms uncontrollably beneath him, digging your nails into your palms.

He has a front row seat to your symphony of pleasure, each mewl like heaven to his ears. "I love the sounds you make," he praises, wishing he had the blessing of hearing you like this more often.

As if hoping to draw out his climax now, your velvety walls spasm and tighten around him, pulling moan after moan from his lips. "I want you to cum," you whimper against his ear, your voice shaky from his relentless pace. "Cum for me. Please."

He falls apart under your coaxing. Letting out a choked sound of euphoria, he reluctantly pulls himself from you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness while he finishes onto your stomach, watching how he throws his head back and bucks his hips with each spurt of cum.

Layers of warm seed spread across your heaving abdomen. The magic binding your hands almost immediately breaks, turning into a cloud of blue that fizzles into nothing. Your aching wrists fall haphazardly to your sides, too exhausted from remaining in that position to move again.

After a moment of recuperation, he stumbles to his feet, grabbing a towel by the bath before soaking it with the warm water inside. When he returns, he sits on the side of the bed, gently and delicately wiping up the mess he'd left on you.

He looks so focused while he cleans, making sure the rag doesn't leave anything behind. You can't help fawning at his concentration, a soft smile finding its way onto your face. He glances up once before doing a double take, not expecting to find you staring. He laughs, albeit a little awkwardly.

He then picks up your tired wrists and massages them, leaving a small peck on each. You assume that's his way of 'kissing it better'.

Once he's done, he leaves the cloth in a damp wad on the nightstand. Flopping onto the bed with a hand supporting his head, he turns to look at you. "So… shall we do it in the bath next?"

[blue-rose-soul]

"Great Alastor Altruist* died for his friends!"

This scene has been spinning in my brain since Thursday. Like a lot of other people, my first thought was that this was an indication that Alastor had grown to care for Charlie and her friends at the hotel. And it's not because of the words he says. Even if you're watching without subtitles and don't see the quotations around that phrase, it's pretty obvious that he's laughing at the very thought.

"Me? Alastor? Dying for them?"

"Ridiculous."

"Absurd!"

"Utterly laughable!"

No, what makes me think that there might be a kernel of truth there isn't the words by themselves. It's the look on his face as he says them.

This is the part where Alastor's angry snarl breaks and he begins to look genuinely afraid. He clutches his chest. He digs his fingers into his scalp, drags his hand down the side of his face. And that's a perfectly reasonable reaction to nearly dying! It's very human! But I think it's very telling that this expression doesn't settle on his face until he's talking about dying for someone else. Before this he looked more angry than anything, and he lapses back into anger up until he begins talking about trying to find a way out of his deal.

Now, don't get me wrong, I understand why anyone would think otherwise. The thing about Alastor is that, despite how blatant it is, his mask works. Like I stated earlier, I find myself searching every word, expression, and gesture from Alastor for double meaning. Ostensibly, there's no one here for Alastor to lie to**. No one he has to put up an act for. But his smile, which he's already fully admitted is faker than fake, remains firmly in place. I wonder if putting up an act is so second nature to him at this point he can't help but do it even when he's alone. Maybe he tries to fool himself as much as other people.

I believe that he has come to care, but I can't fully believe it. I won't be surprised to be wrong. But there are some scenes that just don't make sense to me if he really doesn't care at all.

His chat with Niffty the night before the extermination, for example. Niffty isn't really someone he needs to trick. He has power over her, whether it's because he owns her soul or because of her blind devotion to him. It's telling that while everyone else is hanging out together, sharing drinks at the bar, Alastor keeps his distance and positions himself above them. At this point, Alastor seems to care about them the way we, the audience, care about them; as entertainment. He's enjoying watching their story unfold up close, but that's all there is to it. He admits to Niffty that one could get accustomed to being with them. Not him though! He's above all that.

Then the battle happens. At first, Alastor's role in the battle didn't require him to assume too much risk. He was on crowd control, limiting the number of exorcists the rest of the hazbins have to deal with at once. And he slayed a not insubstantial number of angels in the process***. But then Adam broke through Alastor's shield and singled him out. It would have been reasonable for Alastor to put some distance between himself and the Lead Exorcist. Charlie did say it was his job to deal with Adam, but as I've already discussed, Alastor really had no hope of winning that fight alone. Maybe if he'd escaped right then and there, or fought Adam alongside Charlie things would have turned out differently. Granted, I don't think his pride would have allowed him to take either of those options.

Regardless, the end result is that Alastor did come very close to dying for a cause that wasn't his. Considering what Adam did to the hotel, Alastor's pretty damn lucky he's not in two pieces here.

Now, I don't think this means Alastor is immediately going to turn around and integrate int o the hazbin family. Immediately after this line where he mocks the idea of dying for Charlie's cause, he gets angry again, leans further into the Radio Demon persona and starts contemplating ways to escape his contract. I think, that like someone recoiling after accidentally touching a hot stove, Alastor's going to pull further away from them. One thing I am certain about is how Alastor feels about his leash; he hates it. He wants to be rid of it. He doesn't know how to do that yet, but he's working out a plan and having Charlie in his corner is part of that plan. Giving a genuine shit about her or the other hazbins is not part of that plan. It's another leash, not as literal as the one connecting him to his patron but just as binding.

Alastor realizing he might actually care about these people may just make him more dangerous to them than if he just didn't care at all.

-

(*The word 'altruist' here being used as a title, not a name. Like something you'd see in a newspaper headline, or on a headstone.)

(**There do seem to be some odd eye motifs in the environment, but at no point does Alastor give any indication he is aware of them or acknowledge their presence in anyway. And I highly doubt he would have said certain things if he believed his patron was actively watching him.)

(***Taking this opportunity to go off topic a bit to call the Vees out on their hypocrisy. For all their bluster about 'taking the fight to Heaven' and how 'pussy' the older Overlords supposedly are, I didn't see any of them on the battlefield. Alastor was. He fought as long and hard as he could. There was nothing cowardly about him living to fight another day.)

[roguerambles]

Rising Heat

Tekken - King x Female Reader

Warnings - 18+ Only. Adult Situations.

So, I have come to the fairly firm conclusion that King is the hottest Tekken man. I will not be taking questions at this time--

Enjoy the Rambles!

-

The Charity Tournament was proving to be a success, so far.

In the aftermath of the last King of Iron Fist Tournament, the Mishima Zaibatsu had something of a “PR issue”, as Lee had so delicately put it. Which, considering the last head of the corporation had attempted world domination, was probably something of an understatement.

You were not sure exactly how the idea had come about, but between the minds of Lee, Lars, Alisa, Jin and Steve, the King of Iron Fist Tournament had been rebranded. Now, the tournament’s goal was to raise funds for reconstruction efforts in the areas most affected by the corporation’s actions, along with charities and causes of the competitors choosing.

…you had to admit, the idea had merit. And if gave you an excuse to get back into the ring, so to speak. Jin owed you a rematch, after all.

Xiaoyu practically vibrated with excitement beside you, the prep room bustling with activity. On the large screen above your heads, the match between Jin and Hwoarang was in full swing, and so far it was proving a close call.

“KO!”

Hwoarang hit the floor as the audience erupted with cheers and groans. Xiaoyu bounced on the spot and clapped gleefully, her face lighting up.

“Jin! He did it! He did it!”

“I noticed.” You said dryly, watching her with some bemusement. “Is anyone actually keeping track of how many victories those two have over each other?”

Xiaoyu tilted her head, giving a thoughtful hum before shrugging her shoulders. “I’m sure they must be. I’ll ask later.”

You snorted and returned your attention to the monitor, the announcer’s voice blaring through the speakers as the leaderboard flashed across the screen. You spotted Xiaoyu’s name (“Hey, look, I’m going up against Steve!”) and were scanning for your own when a exuberant voice called out behind you.

“Ladies! Enjoying the show?”

Turning around you saw Lee approaching, his handsome face practically glowing. He had been in his element this evening, and seemed to enjoy working with others to make the tournament a success. You were glad he seemed to be having a good time, but at the moment you were eager to find out when you would be getting into the arena.

Xiaoyu smiled brightly and gestured to the monitor. “We were just looking for her name—”

“I better be fighting Kazama.” You cut in, leaning back to nudge Lee slightly. “Sorry, Xiaoyu, but your boyfriend is going down.”

“Hey, he’s not my—!”

Lee laughed boisterously while Xiaoyu flushed and pouted, flashing you a winning smile – whether in an attempt to charm or placate you, it was difficult to say. “Alas, you’ll need to get to the next round first.”

“Then tell me whose ass I need to kick, Chaolan.”

Lee reached into the pocket of his flashy, fur-lined coat, pulling out his phone and studying the screen for a moment. “Steve and I were talking about it, and we’re quite excited for who we’ve matched you with—Marvelous!” Lee interrupted himself, a pleased grin blooming on his face as his head suddenly turned to look past you and Xiaoyu. “You’ve arrived!”

You watched as Lee strode past you and Xiaoyu towards the entrance, cheerily greeting the newest arrival – was something growling?

It took a moment for you to register who you were looking at, a towering masculine figure with a bestial face – King had arrived.

Oh…..

You had heard of King, of course, and the distinct jaguar mask – seriously did he take that thing off? – and herculean physique made him instantly recognisable to most anyone. But you had not spoken to the man before. The events of the previous year had not exactly been the opportune time to socialise.

“I always forget how huge he is!” Xiaoyu whispered behind you. “He is even bigger than on TV!”

You watched King as he shook an enthusiastic Lee’s hand, your eyes falling on the thick swell of his bicep, rolling under sunkissed skin. “I didn’t know you were a wrestling fan.” You replied vaguely, gaze trailing over his exposed torso, the perfectly sculpted abdomen and broad, powerful shoulders, and what were quite possibly the most bloody fantastic pectorals you had ever laid eyes on.

“Well, I’m not really, Panda is though—ooooh I should get his autograph for her!”

You barely had time to register exactly what Xiaoyu had said before you found yourself being dragged along by the other woman, towards where King and Lee were still talking.

Damn it, Xiaoyu—

You instinctively wanted to pull back, but your gaze was immediately drawn back to King as he gestured animatedly in front of Lee, biceps flexing at his sides, causing the powerful muscles in his arms and shoulders to bulge downright indecently.

“Ah! Excellent!” Lee’s grin flashed bright as he spotted you, while Xiaoyu cheerfully introduced herself to King (“My friend Panda is a big fan—“) he gestured theatrically towards you, turning to King again with a flourish. “King my good man, this is your opponent for the next round. I am sure you two together will be a superb performance!”

The wrestler turned his attention to you, and you found yourself momentarily unable to form sentences as you grasped just how tall he was.

King held out a gloved hand for you to shake – his hands were as massive as the rest of him, their rough warmth enveloping yours and damn it all you could feel your face getting hot. “I have seen you fight before.” He growled, the sound low and deep, rising from somewhere inside that broad, gloriously sculpted chest. “It is a pleasure to meet you properly at last.”

It certainly could be.

You cleared your throat, struggling to regain some composure – damn him, was that a smirk you saw on Lee’s face? – and shook King’s hand firmly. “I like your mask.”

Are you fucking serious—

Xiaoyu gave you a confused look, and while it was difficult to tell, King seemed a little puzzled as well. Lee smothered what sounded suspiciously like laughter – you were going to kick his ass – before suddenly hooking his arm around Xiaoyu’s shoulders. “My dear, I almost forgot! I need to take a few shots of you and Steve before the match, you understand—”

“Oh, okay! I’ll see you later!”

Xiaoyu called to you over her shoulder as Lee quickly began leading her away, and you glared at the back of the silver haired man’s head for a moment before realising you had not let go of King’s hand yet.

Releasing your hold, you shook yourself, brushing imaginary dust from your shoulder. “I’ve heard good things about you.” You tried to steer the conversation somewhere close to familiar. “I’d like to get my hands on you. In the arena. I mean—”

God, this was embarrassing.

King’s shoulders shook, a deep, throaty chuckle emanating from him and you felt yourself flush again. Damn it, even his laugh was kind of sexy—

“I look forward to seeing you in action.” He said, nodding and crossing his arms, the simple movement triggering a symphony of contracting musculature, those gorgeous pecs flexing unconsciously fuck you needed a drink. “Let’s give the crowd a show to remember.”

The fight. Of course. Familiar territory. You felt your lips form a smile, and confidence began to flow back into your limbs. “Naturally.” You leaned against the row of lockers nearby, flashing your teeth up at King. “It’s not everyday people see a King being toppled now, is it?”

King laughed again, shaking his head as he leaned against the lockers with you – it was a little odd talking to someone wearing a mask over his entire head, but King had a surprisingly warm aura for such an imposing figure. “I do not plan on losing.”

“Neither do I.” You stretched your arms over your head – maybe it was your imagination, but you swore you saw his head tilt down slightly, gaze lingering on your chest, before immediately moving back to your face. Warmth blossomed across your skin, and you pushed yourself upwards, arching your back just slightly. His head tilted slightly, following the movement.

Oh? Looks like I’m not the only one who likes what they see…

You felt a surge of boldness, your footing regained. Adopting as casual an air as possible, you grabbed the zipper of your form-fitting jacket, slowly pulling it down. You shrugged out of the material, sighing softly as the warm air of the prep room rushed to greet the bare skin of your arms and stomach. The material of your top hugged your chest and as you tossed your jacket onto the bench nearby, you glanced in King’s direction.

The mask made it difficult to tell, but you could feel his gaze trailing down over you, stopping on your hips before moving back up. You bit your lip slightly, barely stopping a pleased grin from spreading across your face.

“We should talk more after the fight.” You said, pretending to examine your boots – lifting your thigh, tilting your hips, just slightly – smiling impishly. “Maybe get a drink? Lee tells me the hotel they’ve booked for the fighters has a good bar.”

King said nothing for a moment, although you swore you heard a low, rumbling growl from in his throat. “Yes.” He said after a moment. “I would like that.”

“Good.” You swallowed, a flicker of excitement sparking deep in your belly. “We can toast my victory.”

King laughed once more, then stepped away from the lockers. You watched as King began to make his way towards the tunnel leading to his side of the arena, the muscles of his broad back flexing and contracting with every step, his powerful thighs striding across the room, the pleasing snugness of his pants accentuating his perfectly crafted—

Fuck.

Kazama would have to wait, you decided as you turned and began to make your way to the starting area. You were beginning to think of a different way to spend your evening after the fight.

--

King was a thrilling opponent.

You had fought plenty of men who thought themselves showmen. Often they’d be so distracted performing for their perceived audience they seemed to forget they were in a real fight, with a real enemy. That carelessness had made those victories easy.

King was different. He balanced his technique with theatricality, showing off for the crowd, bringing excitement to the arena, but his guard was never down. Every opening you spotted was bait, luring you in for an easy strike only to close down around you like a steel trap.

He was strong, you were quick. The trap would spring, you would dodge, and the dance continued, the temperature rising, sweat clinging to your skin. You ducked beneath King’s grasp, the warmth of his powerful body grazing your own, and it was hard not to imagine how this intensity would feel in other, more intimate environments.

Fuck, you were so turned on.

The crowd cheered and the music blasted through the air as you spun beneath King, aiming a kick directly at his exposed abdomen. He twisted, his arm darting protectively in front of him, knocking you off balance. He swung his body to the side, a fierce roar bellowing from deep in his throat, and you were thrown back, barely managing to flip around and skid across the floor to minimize the impact.

You had put nearly full force into your kick, and King had tossed you aside as though you weighed nothing, throwing you across the arena with strength greater that even his powerful build and size would suggest.

Fuck, that was hot.

King charged suddenly, and you sprang into action, launching yourself upwards. You swung your foot directly at the side of King’s head, but his massive hand shot up, fingers snapping tight around your ankle. You barely had time to react before the wrestler’s other hand grasped your waist, guiding your momentum until your thighs were on top of his shoulders.

What the fuck—

You squirmed in his grip, adrenaline mixing with bafflement, but King held fast. He twisted around, and you felt air rush around your ears as the world dropped out as he threw himself forward, sending you both crashing into the floor of the ring. Pain flashed across your shoulders and back, the roughness of King’s fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, the weight of his broad, muscled body sliding between your legs, strong and wide and hot—

The sound that slipped past your lips was downright obscene. King’s head snapped towards you, and he became suddenly still, the jaws of his mask open in a silent roar. He stared at you, unmoving, and you felt your cheeks burn as you realised he definitely heard that.

Blood rushed in your ears along with the crowd’s cheering and King continued to stare at you unmoving, his palms burning against your skin. Biting your lip hard, you twisted your hips sharply, squeezing your thighs tight around him. King grunted in surprise as he was thrown onto his back, you perched atop him, gazing down at him, breathless with adrenaline and something else.

King stared up at you, chest heaving, his strong hands still holding you. You held each other’s gazes, the noise of the crowd and pounding of your heart deafening in your ears.

“…about that drink….” You said finally, swallowing thickly as King’s hands subtly brushed up your thighs, heat trickling down your spine. “How about we have it in my hotel room?”

King did not reply, but after a moment he nodded, fingers lightly stroking the strip of skin between your belt and shirt, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arched slightly, fire coiling deep in your belly, and swung your fist downwards. King threw himself to the side as you rolled sharply to your feet, excitement crackling in the air as the crowd roared with approval.

“KING! KING! KING! KING! KING—”

“But first….” You crooked your fingers at the wrestler as he slowly rose to his feet, his gaze remaining fixed on you, the jaguar mask bringing to mind the image of a hungry beast eyeing prey – was it weird that was turning you on a little? – and flashed him a grin. “I’m afraid it’s time to disappoint your beloved audience.”

King’s shoulders shook slightly, a booming laugh rising from deep in his chest. “I do not disappoint.”

You definitely caught the edge of innuendo in his tone, and a grin burst onto your lips.

This was going to be fun.

[rocultrakillstuff]

hi there!!! could i get general gabriel x gn!reader headcanons?

Of course you can! Here's some Gabriel x GN!Reader Headcanons all prettied up for you and finished with a homebaked gif! I really didn't expect to get a request this soon. Thank you so much for being the first one ♡♡♡

Gabriel x GN!Reader Headcanons (Gabriel x Reader) [Requested]

🐑 ♡ Thank you so much to my dearest Birch for beta'ing these headcanons ♡ 🐑

A general selection of headcanons for Gabriel x a GN!Reader.

Teen and Up Audiences, No Warnings, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Headcanon, Short, Flirting, Fluff, Pet Names, Blood, GN!Reader, Ambiguous Gender Reader, POV Second Person

Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 654

Thank you @kiitiikiiwii for requesting this! It's my first time doing HCs, so I did my homework to see what sort of thing I should be doing. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations. Likewise, I decided to mark it as GN! and Ambig! due to the lack of pronouns. Insert away ♡

♡ Flirting is not something Gabriel is accustomed to. So much so, he won’t ever realise this is what he’s doing. When he’s returning your signals, it’s because he is doing it out of mutual respect and appreciation for such fine company. That’s exactly why he seeks you out you upon the thought mere thought of your smile. Of course he lets his hand rest against the side of your arm to get your attention. Why wouldn’t he? He’s matching your kind gestures with the same enthusiasm. He’s complimenting your skills as you compliment him. He is flirting with you in blissful ignorance of what he’s actually doing. To him, the bond you share is irreplaceable.

♡ He finds it exhilarating how you focus his senses like he was in battle. With Gabriel as oblivious to flirting as he is, he is no better at understanding his own feelings when it comes to you. He’s aware of every little thing you do around him, and he will often comment on things out of curiosity or interest. Touch - no matter how fleeting - leaves him restless. Your voice, however soothing it may be to him, does nothing to quell the internal chaos warring in his head. Be it through word of mouth, reflection, or your own confession, he finally realises what it all means. 

♡ When Gabriel figures out how he feels, all that smooth flirting deteriorates to confusion. Suddenly he has to think about his actions in a way he is unfamiliar with. The confident angel you know struggles to be anything more than a new creation unleashed upon Heaven. Fragile eagerness would guide his hand towards you, and his hesitancy would compel him to stop. He would ask for your permission if he ever wanted to be close to you. Your time is a resource he seems infinitely aware he is spending, and yet you reassure him you want to spend it with him. Gabriel wouldn't avoid you. Not when you felt the same way. Yet you would see a vulnerable side to him he otherwise hid behind titles and strength.

♡ Splendor would be his choice of endearment for you. Like the sword that adorns his side, so do you. It seems a fitting title for the object of his affections. When his duties take him far from you, he is able to keep a piece of you with him more tangible than a memory. And when the blood of fallen Sinners coats the blade, he feels a sense of pride about his purpose. He is following God’s will, but he is also ensuring there would never be another rebellion to threaten the life you lead. When the colour of the sword is drowned out entirely by crimson, he would consider the intensity of his feelings - feelings that bled between ideas of love and war. He adores you with the same ferocity he wields his blade. It is a high that leaves his wings unsettled against his back. There was no such thing as mercy for him; only the point of a blade embedded deep in his soul.

♡ When he returns to your side, he finds himself unable to stay away from you. Nor does he stay still. He would chase the same high he felt when you were apart, and you would be swept off of your feet. You’re sparring together regardless of your experience. You’re dancing together with full vigour. You’re listening to him as he tries to teach you all he knows when you’re busy. The few peaceful moments that sneak into your routine are filled with silence, however. While he savours your presence, he continues to think about what he’s feeling. He doesn’t know if it will ever go away. It’s a thought that makes him uneasy. So he’ll keep chasing after you - his Splendor - with the same intensity of the sun even after the fire is gone. He cannot comprehend anything else.

[avonne-writes]

sending this again cause i didn’t get the little green bar that says it sent:

for example, how u mentioned in symmetry that buck doesn’t mention that there were 4 guys and he got away only out of pure luck. i feel like knowing about that would absolutely horrify and destroy bucky

Symmetry

Oh, absolutely. Imagine a moment still in the stalag when Gale wakes up gasping from a nightmare. Bucky would wake up too / he would be awake due to crippling insomnia, and he sees Gale rubbing his wrists and being a bit out of it. Gale jumps when he sits beside him and touches him, then covers his face with his hand as if ashamed. He's shaking.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Hm-m, and I'm Marlene Dietrich in disguise."

Gale chuckles, but it sounds like a hiccup. "Some of the guards looked at me funny today."

Bucky tries to think back but can’t really recall it. He decides not to say that though. "Yeah? In the yard?"

"I shouldn't have taken my shirt off." Gale keeps rubbing his eyes, a gesture of exhaustion. "What if they -" He bites the sentence off and swallows.

Around them, the hut is quiet, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if some of the other guys were listening in. They all wondered about what happened to Gale between his capture and the stalag that caused him to react weirdly sometimes - but Gale kept a tight lid on it. Even to Bucky, he only told a few details. But he's too shaken now to realize or to care that he has an audience.

"It’s so stupid." He whispers and drops his hands on his lap. "It was just a cut and a few bruises, I ought'a have moved on from it already."

Bucky rubs Gale's back in slow, wide strokes. "He wanted to force himself on you. It’s not something you can easily forget."

Gale breathes in and out deeply. "They."

Bucky frowns. "What?"

Hugging himself, Gale stares into nothing. "There were four of them." He takes another deep breath, trying to force himself to calm down. "One to each arm... feet and hands on my legs... one with a knife. I had bruises on my wrists and thighs for a while." More noisy breathing, in and out, in and out. "It was so easy."

Bucky’s heart cracks like a branch snapped in half. There’s a fury in him with no outlet, and it eats away at him, makes him think of the craziest things. Beating guards into a bloody pulp, making them suffer. He keeps the hand on Gale's back light and comforting but the other clenches into a tight enough fist that his nails dig into his own palm.

"I can’t help but think -" Gale pauses, but decides to continue after a moment. He gestures at the window. "What if those out there get bored? Luck's going to run out at one point."

Bucky feels so small, so inadequate in the face of that fear. He slides his arm around Gale's back fully and feels Gale lean against his side. "I will make sure you’re never alone until we're out of here."

Gale makes the same defeated chuckle again, and they fall into silence. A few seconds later, a bunk creaks, and a figure moves towards them in the shadows. Gale's spine goes stiff under Bucky's touch again, and his expression clears of emotion. He even puts on a small smile as Brady’s tired face comes into view in the dim light.

"You okay, Brady?" He asks quietly. Not even Bucky would have been able to tell from his voice that he was struggling only a few seconds before.

Brady leans against the bedframe on Gale's other side. He looks between the two of them, then nods a few times and squeezes Gale's elbow. At the touch, Gale's breath leaves him in a rush. He covers his eyes again. Bucky and Brady let the silence linger as long as he needs.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Chapter 33: The Game finishing snippet

as celebration for hitting 500+ reblogs here is the super rough snippet of the game section! It's still in it's rough stages, and there's still a lot left to go- I was really trying to recapture the vibe from the library chapter while still staying new/fresh I guess! (this will probably be very different from the finished product!)

“Asha?” Cepheus’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife as she halted. Now both ‘dragon’ and knights were staring at her as she stood there, frozen.

“H-hello Cepheus,” she smiled, giving him a small wave.

“Hi Asha!” he smiled as Corvias stared at her.

“...Bye Cepheus.”

“Bye Asha!” he called as Corvias incredulously looked from him to her before fervently hopping. “Oh….OH- WAIT A MINUTE- PRINCESS GET BACK HERE!” Cepheus yelled as he took off after her.

“HELP!” She screamed once again as the star continued to chase after her. “THIS WAS A MISTAKE AAAHHHH-,”

“After them!” cried the children who followed in pursuit.

“No, you silly kids don’t follow me! How am I supposed to get to you if you’re behind him?!” She cried watching as they charged after the star. “Nooo!” she groaned.

“Keep running Asha!” Mrs. Zahira called.

“Circle around! Do a backflip!” Mr. Armin called. 

“I can’t do a backflip!” She wailed as she continued sprinting around the market, watching as the star grew closer and closer.

“He’s gaining on you!” Mrs. Akinemi laughed as she tore past her.

No kidding. 

Her headstart had done her little good as he quickly gained ground, somehow managing to nearly close the distance as she ran both through the crowd and around the stalls. No wonder the king had found stars terrifying. For someone who’d claimed to be so weak amongst his own kind, Cepheus’s strength and speed were insane!

“SOMEBODY SAVE ME!” she screamed, taking a sharp turn around another stall as the star continued following. “PLEASE!” 

She shrieked as the audience roared with laughter and cheers as she continued running, silently cursing at the fact that she hadn’t worn better shoes.

“That’s what we’re trying to do!” Edda called in between pants as Aelar said something in Ischanian.

“Bob and weave Asha!” Phoebe advised as the children trailed behind.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?!” she called, running past Mr. Armin’s stall, where he was currently talking to Mr. Kurkaus and Mr. Leitus.

“I’m telling you, Armin, you give it a day or two and I bet you hot chocolate will take off in Rosas!”

“In this weather? Hmm, not likely,” Mr. Armin shook his head as Asha dashed past Mrs. Kurkaus’s stall. 

“What?! But we’re drinking tea right now!!” Mr. Kurkaus exclaimed as he incredulously gestured to the tea set on Mr. Armin’s stall. “ How is hot chocolate any different?!”

“Asha he’s hiding behind Bellerose’s stall waiting to ambush you!” Mr. Leitus called as he poured himself a cup of tea.

“Traitor!” the star indignantly called to Mr. Leitus as he reappeared a few yards in front of Asha. “I’ll remember this! You’ll see!”

“Thank you, sir!” Asha yelled as she took off in the opposite direction as the star continued giving chase.

“Asha,” the star sang sounding too close for comfort. Oh God, she wasn’t going to make it, was she?

“No- PLEASE-,” she screeched. 

“Scream louder Asha, I don’t think all of Rosas has heard you yet,” the star called, sounding far closer than she wanted.

She didn’t know where she was going, just that she needed to get back to the children. The children who were now behind- “AAAAHHHH!” She screamed as she felt arms wrap around her, pulling her to a stop. 

“Yep. There we go!” The star called, his voice filling her ears as she began to struggle against his grasp.

There was no way she was going down fighting, not after she’d put in this much effort into escaping! 

Shifting her arms and legs around his, she’d kneeled down. Then she’d turned herself around quickly wrapping her arms around his neck, as she slowly began to squeeze. Her legs wrapped around his sides, nearly straddling him as she used every ounce of strength to tighten her hold.

Somewhere behind her, she could hear the children’s footsteps come to a halt behind her just as the star released a strangled grasp.

A choir of groans and gasps greeted her from her surrounding audience as she continued tightening the choke hold. The adults winced as Aelar and the other children jumped in excitement.

“Cool!” Diego called as they struggled against one another. The star was holding back, but that wouldn’t stop Asha from 

“That’s a nasty chokehold,” Mr. Armin grimaced as Mrs. Akinemi whistled. 

“There goes the windpipe,” Mrs. Zahra winced before playing a small tune on her fiddle.

“No wonder Sabino didn’t bother with him! He knew she’d put him down herself!” Mr. Leitus called.

“I think he’s still conscious!” Mrs. Bellerose cried. “Poor kid!”

“Go easy on him Asha!” Mr. Bjorn commented. 

“If you insist,” Asha replied, quickly removing her legs from the star’s waist before firmly planting them back on the ground. She still hadn’t released her hold on his neck, nor had she planned to as she’d carefully regained her balance before tightening it even further.

The star’s body nearly slackened for a moment before she’d felt him move, this time far more vigorously as he’d tried to tear himself away from her hold, hurriedly grumbling something in Cosmelathian.

“Fight princess! Fight!” Edda screamed as the star had placed a hand on her side. Fear had engulfed her as for a moment she’d wondered if he’d scratch her with his nails. But He’d offered no further resistance as the crowd continued to grow, shouting and cheering.

‘Fight princess! Fight!’ They’d sang as she grunted trying to secure her chokehold. 

Oh, she was fighting all right. 

A raspy sound had escaped the star as he’d staggered forward once more, moving his head as she’d nearly wrestled him to the ground. 

He was trying to prevent her from locking it in. 

A wise decision on his part as she’d continue to struggle to secure it. he definitely knew his way around combative maneuvers, confirming to her this his counter in the library had been anything but coincidental. He’d only feigned ignorance, probably to hide the fact that he was a far better combatant than he’d purposefully misled both her and her grandfather to believe. 

Combining technique with his strength was a monstrous combination, but she hadn’t gained the reputation for being one of the best wrestlers in a tavern full of warriors and criminals for working strictly under ideal conditions. She’d dealt with worse just like she was going to deal with him.

“Cepheus!” She called over the sounds of their struggle and the crowd’s growing excitement as they’d taken sides cheering either her or the star on. “You thought this was going to be easy? Didn’t you?” she’d whispered to the star as she’d refused to let go.

The star laughed, moving in a near blur as she felt him suddenly slip and vanish from her hold. He’d moved so fast that she’d barely seen how he escaped, but it didn’t matter as the now freed star stood mere inches in front of her with his smile noticeably absent.

What was he-?!

She’d screamed as he stepped forward, his arms wrapping around her and lifting her.

 First, she saw the sky. She’d nearly thought she was flying until she’d felt the pull of gravity again as she’d felt herself being hoisted down as the star hummed.

He hadn’t- he couldn’t!!!

She gasped as she saw the children’s shocked faces staring at her as his hold had tightened around her knees.

Oh no.

She had no idea what sort of move he’d used against her. But she doubted it mattered when she’d now found herself firmly planted on top of the star’s shoulders.

“What the-?!” She’d cried incredulously, as she helplessly flailed her arms. Oh no, no, no, no!

“That was amazing…” Diego whispered.

“What kind of move was that?!” Phoebe cried as the crowd watched on in awe, a few even cheering for the star as he held her victoriously.

“He lifted her like she was a bag of feathers!” Kelsey exclaimed. 

“Just another wonderful day in Rosas!” The star victoriously sang as he’d shifted her on his shoulder. His arm gently rested behind her knees.

Oh, the grin she’d pictured on his face was too much as she’d struggled in vain against his iron grip once more. 

This wasn’t supposed to be how it went! She was supposed to be free! Not captured- like- like this! 

She paused, looking at the faces of the children who looked as if they couldn’t decide on whether or not to laugh or to cry. “Not one word,” she threatened.

“Can we negotiate?” Phoebe asked as Asha felt the last bit of sanity leave her. The children had begun following after the star as he’d headed back towards the fountain.

“Please!” Phoebe begged as the star paused in front of Mrs. Kurkaus’s stall. Her snow cloud from the previous day was still there, releasing a rather heavy snowfall as the star shifted Asha once more on his shoulder.

“Reverting to diplomacy now?” Cepheus looked unimpressed as the children shrugged.

“It’s worth a shot,” Diego spoke. 

Now Asha was desperate, and desperate times always called for desperate measures. That’s why she’d reached out, collecting the flurries and snowflakes that had accumulated between her fingers.

This was her last chance. Her last chance.

If this didn’t work then nothing would.

 “Hmm unless it’s food, I don’t think there’s much you all could- ACK!” he yelled, as the snowball collided with the side of his face. The whole market fell silent as he immediately released Asha who more than happily scrambled away from him.

It had only been when she’d put a few yards between them had the reality of her situation truly hit her.

She, Asha, mild manner peasant of Rosas, had just hit a reality-bending supernatural being who possibly wanted to destroy Rosas, in the face, with a ball of snow.

…What had she done?!

There was no way she’d just willingly pelted Cepheus, of all people, with a snowball!!! 

“Uhh,” she started as the star slowly turned towards her. Snow fell from his face as he stared at her. 

Was it too late to say sorry?

The answer to her question had come when a snowball had suddenly appeared in the star’s hand. His claw-like fingers tightly gripped it as he took one step towards her. Then another.

Uh oh.

“Cepheus- I,” oh he was coming now. 

“Asha,” he sang.

“Cepheus no!” She squealed, narrowly dodging as something white and small raced past her before colliding with a surprised Mr. Leiutus.

“Oops,” the star murmured watching as the man blinked in shock. Mr. Kurkaus cackled with laughter as Mr. Leiutus glared. “Let me try that again,” he sighed reaching for more snow. 

Wait again?! “No!” Asha wailed as she ducked behind Mr. Armin’s stall. “I repent! Please!”

“Oh no you don’t,” Mr. Leitus interjected as he ran to Mrs. Kurkaus’s stall and created his own snowball. “Thought you could pull a fast one on me did you?!” he yelled to the star who pointed to himself in confusion. “Take this!” He yelled, hurling the ball at the star who promptly ducked as the ball instead hit Mr. Kurkaus.

“AUGH!” Mr. Kurkaus cried, wiping the snow from his face. “You did that on purpose!”

“Partially!” Mr. Leitus confessed. “I was aiming for him!”

“How were you aiming for him when he’s to your right but I’m to your left?! That makes no sense Alaric!”

“I don’t know, I just threw a ball! If you don’t like it do something!”

“Alright then!” Mr. Kurkaus replied, racing towards his wife's stall as Mr. Leitus tensed.

“Uh oh,” he panicked before hobbling away. “No! I can’t run! Please!” he yelled as Mr. Kurkaus reappeared, now holding several snowballs of his own.

“HA!” he yelled, hurling four snowballs toward the screaming Mr. Leitus. 

But instead of hitting his target, the first one hit Mrs.Zahra and her violin, abruptly ending her tune. “Ack!” she’d cried, lowering her violin as her husband snickered, before promptly being hit as well.

“Aah!” cried Thatcher as the third snowball hit him in the shoulder, an impressive feat considering that he’d never been remotely close to Mr. Leitus to begin with.

“What in the-,” Maria started, narrowly ducking the snowball as it instead hit Moireach.

“Hey!” Moireach yelled. “What the heck-?!”

“Sorry!” Mr. Kurkaus called. “I don’t know how that happened. I’m usually pretty good at snowball throwing…”

“Pretty good? Aldo, you’re worse than me!” Mr. Leitus teased as both Mrs. Zahra, Moireach and Thatcher raced towards the stall, quickly making their own snowballs as Mr. Kurkaus began to back away.

“Hey now…it was a mistake! I didn’t mean to hit you! What are you doing?! Stop! Ah!” He screamed as the trio began to chase him, all hurling snowballs in his direction.

“Don’t worry love!” Mrs. Kurkaus called, leaving her stall’s size to grab a snowball of her own. “I’ll save you!”

“Oh no, you won’t! Not on my watch!” Mr. Armin replied as he joined the fray.

Soon the market was complete and total chaos as snowballs soared overhead. The sounds of laughter and screams filled the air as people raced to and fro trying to pummel each other with the ever-growing snow cloud that had begun to spread over the market square. 

“Okay, knights!” Edda called to the children who’d huddled behind the fountain, and away from the flying snowballs. “Our distractions don’t get better than this! Operation save princess attempt 3 is ready!”

“Just attempt 3? I could’ve sworn it was at least attempt 5-,” Thatcher started.

“Look it doesn’t matter okay? We just need to save Asha! Does anyone have any ideas!” 

“I think….I might have an idea,” Aelar said softly as everyone turned to him. “But we are going to need help.��

Now Was this Asha’s fault? She wondered as she’d taken shelter behind an overturned table, safely away from the heart of the now snowy chaos.

Probably.

Was she going to take responsibility for this? Absolutely not! 

But as she’d looked over the tabletop and took in the sight of the laughing people, playing with each other, she could scarcely believe that just a few days ago, so many of them had been sad and bored, wishing for a change. A change, that despite its terrible catalyst had now made life in the once very quiet city of Hamlet…exciting.

It was just like the star had said, wasn’t it? Their wishes had been granted, and for the time being, they’d all seemed happier because of it. Had there been some truth to his words? None of this would’ve been possible without him or his power and yet, no, she shook her head, promptly dismissing the thought and the dangerous implication it carried. Right now she had bigger problems to worry about, like the crazy star that she had lost sight of in the crowd. Where were her knights?

“Asha-,”

They better not have given up on her!

“Hey, Asha!” came a harsh whisper, snapping her out of her thoughts as Edda suddenly appeared at her side, startling her.

“Edda?!” she exclaimed before the girl hushed her.

“Not so loud! You don’t want the dragon finding you!”

“Right,” she nodded, somewhat annoyed that she’d forgotten his super hearing. “What are you doing here?”

“Aelar has a plan.”

“He does?”

Edda nodded, reaching into her pocket,  “he does. But if you wanna be rescued, we’re gonna need your help.” 

“Isn’t that cheating?” Asha asked.

“Do you wanna stay with him for eternity?”

“Fair point,” she conceded as Edda anxiously looked around the clearing once more. Then when she was certain they were alone, she held one of their wooden swords forward. 

“Are you in?”

It had been five minutes since Edda had told her the plan, and five minutes without any sign of the star. Now she was worried, if not for the game, then for the possibility that the star had possibly used the game as a distraction to sneak off to somewhere she wouldn’t want him to be. But he wouldn’t do that, right? At least she hoped not.

Her eyes scanned the still chaotic marketplace, watching as Abigail had thrown one snowball only to be immediately pelted by three incoming ones. Her shrieks filled the air as her friends laughed, dragging their friend back behind their makeshift shelter as more snowballs were exchanged and thrown.

Where was the star?  Better yet where was Lady Allard?! Surely the hour had been up and the food was ready!

Her last question had been answered as she’d heard Lady Allard’s ill-fated voice. She’d peaked over the tabletop, as the crowd of officials and arrivals came into view.

She’d meant to warn her. She did. She wasn’t sure how she was going to, but she never got the chance as Lady Allard stepped forward gesturing to the market. “And as you can see this is the market-  the quietest place in to-,” her voice came to a halt as a snowball collided with the side of her face.

Now the once chaotic market had gone quiet. 

All watched with bated breath as the noblewoman slowly wiped the snow from her face. 

“Who….threw that ball?” She started as she trembled. “Out with it!” She screamed. “Which one of you hit me with that snowball!”

No one said anything as they exchanged glances.

“It wasn’t me-,”

“I didn’t have a snowball in my hand-,”

“Keeping your comrade’s silence, huh? Fine then!  I’ll just have to destroy all of you!” She cried, storming towards the nearest pile of snow as she took a handful of snow. She halted, looking towards her officials angrily as she yelled, “Don’t just stand there! Avenge me you fools!”

“Oh…OH RIGHT! Yes!” They’d nodded in agreement, nearly stumbling over each other as they reached her pile of snow before charging after her toward a group of people.

They’d all screamed and scattered as the chaos resumed. 

“Oh gosh, what have I gotten myself into,” Asha groaned as she huddled behind the fallen table. She couldn’t see the star anywhere…. Should she attempt another escape? Ugh, she hoped the ground wasn’t icy, but come to think of it, despite the amount of snow that had been accumulating, the weather hadn’t felt colder than normal, which should’ve been impossible given Rosas’s geographical position.

She shook her head, grumbling,  “It’s literally snowing in Rosas. It never snows in Rosas. Of course, it wouldn’t we’re way too close to the equator for this. how is it snowing?!”

“Take an educated guess princess,” the star answered as he pulled the table away from her. A fairly sized snowball sat in his right hand as he looked at her thoughtfully. 

“Cepheus!” she screamed, doing her best to scramble away from the star as far as she could. Of course, she hadn’t gotten far, she knew she couldn’t, not when she’d felt that familiar telekinetic hold on her, purposefully slowing her down as he calmly walked towards her.

 Now she began to understand how Safi’s mice had felt whenever they’d been cornered by 

Charo, who’d been all too willing to drag the process out. 

But she needed to stall. She’d deduced that much as she’d caught sight of Phoebe’s figure sneaking closer, her eyes pleading with her to give them time. Fine. 

It was time to get unethical again.. 

“N-now let’s not get too hasty here Cepheus!” ” she started with an uneasy smile. “Surely we can resolve this without resorting to violence!”

“Says the woman who threw me in a chokehold,” the star murmured as he neared.

“Which was admittedly not the best decision I’ve made today, but I’ve now seen the error of my ways!” She grinned nervously.

“Have you, princess?” he was still coming closer. She’d contemplated begging him to accept defeat, but knowing those children, there was no way they’d be satisfied with a simple victory over the star.

She nodded, “Yes I have! And you know! I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately-,”

“Mmhm.” Think Asha! Think! The moment he grabs you, it’s over! But what could she say to make him stop? 

Nothing seemed to work, nothing save for- “ her eyes landed on Mrs. Bellerose’s abandoned flower stall behind him as an idea hit her. 

“Vincas!” she screamed, pointing to the flower stall.

He stopped, looking at her as if she’d grown two heads before repeating, “Vincas?”

She nodded, thanking God that he’d actually come to a stop. “yeah you know, I was trying to think of which flowers reminded me of you and I settled for vincas.”

The star stopped, looking back at the beautiful flower stall. He wasn’t smiling anymore as he examined the flowers in question, completely missing when Asha had quietly pulled out the wooden sword that Edda had given her. “Little red flowers remind you of…me?”

She couldn’t tell if he was shocked or disgusted. Knowing how he’d felt about red stars, maybe both. She nodded, holding his attention as the surrounding children continued to creep closer amidst the chaos. “Of course they do. You know, here on earth they have a really good meaning.”

“Protection, friendship, and happiness.” she’d shrugged as she slowly eased herself to her knees and back onto her feet. “You know, things that those flowers reminded you of me.” oh she was nearly shaking now as she neared him. 

She hadn’t missed the frown on his face as she’d said the word ‘love’ but it had given her enough strength, or rather spite to charge forward. 

Immediately his arm flew forward, catching her hand with the wooden sword in it, just like she’d anticipated.  shifting herself around as she’d pushed herself downwards, using her momentum to trip the star. She’d been shocked when he’d actually gone down with her, wrestling and rolling around in the snow as she’d pinned him beneath her.

He’d blinked in surprise, looking at her and the wooden tip that had hovered a few inches over her chest as his hand still held her wrist. “Hmm, call me crazy, but I think I’m getting a sense of deja vu here. A rather pleasant one, really.”

“Deja vu, huh?” she spat, trying to push against the star’s strength. “You know cepheus…” she grunted. Why was he so strong?! “If you think I look beautiful in defeat, you should see how I look in victory-,”

“Victory?” he asked, looking shocked as the sound of the children’s screams cut through the air. They’d flung themselves all over his limbs, as she’d held him down.

“Now!” thatcher cried as Aelar appeared with his wooden sword, tapping it against his chest before he firmly planted it beneath the star’s arm.

“AAAAAHHHHH!” the star screamed, as the surrounding snow fight ceased. Asha and the children quickly crawled off of him as he sat up, clutching his chest. 

All eyes watching as his trembling hand reached for the wooden sword, unable to pull it out before he wailed “BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!!” He wailed, falling over dramatically as he reached towards Asha, imitating the movement of what she guessed was…a dying dragon? She didn’t know. She studied stars, not dragons. “AND DEATH!” he’d finished before going completely still as the market broke out into cheers.

“WE DID IT!” thatcher screamed.

“We saved the princess!” Phoebe cried, excitedly hugging her doll.

“Aelar your plan was genius!” Edda exclaimed as the other children nodded in agreement.

“Thank you,” he began, smiling shyly. Before turning to Asha, “Thank you for playing with us miss.”

“It was no problem,” she said with a small curtsy, before kicking the star’s foot with hers. “I knew I could count on you all to put the wicked dragon down.”

“Free cheers for the knights of Rosas!” Mr. Leitus exclaimed, “Hip-hip!”

“Hooray!” yelled the crowd as they lifted the knights into the air. She couldn't quite stop the smile that came to her face as she watched Aelar excitedly talk to the kids who’d eagerly nodded. Maybe it had been too early to decide, but she had a feeling that he would fit right in with the other children of Rosas. 

Sensing that the crowd was now distracted, Asha leaned down towards the star, “Hey are you okay?”

He smugly grinned, removing the sword from his side, “never been better. That was a pretty convincing performance wasn’t it? Hmm maybe I should take up theatre.” he took her hand as she helped him up. “I would be amazing in theatre. I can see it now!”

“Eh, I wouldn't quit my night job if I were you,” she joked, earning herself a string of 

Cosmelathian words as the pair followed after the crowd into her grandfather’s bakery. 

[coffeeghoulie]

Talk about swussy 🫶🫶🫶

my swussy thoughts, coming right up. I think this is the fastest i've ever written a fic, but that's not important. Swussy is.

tdick, dick, and cunt used for Swiss's anatomy.

divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Swiss is nothing if not a showman.

He spends his nights on stage riling himself up, grinding against his mic stand, his guitar, the stage itself, putting on such a show for the audience. More importantly, he's putting it on for his packmates.

Swiss doesn't care who sees, really. He knows that they can smell the sweet-spicy of his arousal through every layer of his uniform, the wetness starting to seep through the crotch of his pants.

Cirrus's hands tense, and Rain glances back at him less subtly than he thinks he does. Dew comes over to sneak hits of his vape, raising his eyebrows behind the glass lenses and huffing. Cumulus and Sunny share looks, giggling to each other because they know what he's doing.

Aether and Mountain, however, give him the best reactions. Mountain's grip tenses around his sticks so tight that even through his ear piece, he can hear wood creaking and threatening to snap. Aether's glare pierces right through him, quintessence tugging harshly at their bond.

Ours tonight, Aether warns, and Swiss just flashes him that mega-watt grin.

He meets them in their shared hotel room, both in various stages of undress. Mountain levels him with a hard look, eyes glinting bright emerald in the lamplight. "Strip, ."

Swiss salutes playfully, pushing his sweats down. Both of the older ghouls groan like he's hit them. No matter how many times they do this, they always seem blindsided by Swiss's lack of underwear.

He tosses his clothes aside, standing in front of both of them, hands behind his back in parade rest. He hasn't stopped grinning. Aether raises an eyebrow, gaze skating down and then back up Swiss's body. "You wanted to put on a show so bad?" Aether says, voice almost cold and dismissive. He gestures towards the empty queen bed. "Put on a show."

He obeys, even though he knows who really holds the power right now. Swiss leans back on the bed, planting his feet and parting his knees. "Yeah, Aeth, Mount, wanted to so bad, just for you."

No one's even touched each other, but the hotel reeks of arousal, of the rich herbal scent radiating off of Mountain, Swiss's black tea and cinnamon, of Aether's crackling ozone. Swiss skates a hand down over his chest, down the soft swell of his stomach, playing with the coarse, dark hair leading down to his bush.

His eyes dart between Mountain and Aether and back, biting his lip to keep from laughing at how enraptured they are already, gazes locked onto his hand. Swiss plays for a minute with his bush, trimmed neat but still long enough to pet through.

He knows what the other two see: his fat little tdick, not as big as Aether's but a solid little mouthful, just hard enough to peek from his puffy, slick coated lips. The stuff is smeared across his inner thighs, makes some of the coarse curls between his legs glisten in the lamplight.

One of his fingers skates past his dick and he groans, throwing his head back so they can ogle the line of his throat. "I'll let you fuck it when I'm done," he offers to no one in particular. He knows that they'll both take him up on it.

Aether and Mountain glance at each other and back to Swiss's cunt with a short nod. "Make yourself cum, edelweiss," Mountain says, voice low and rumbling like a rockslide.

Swiss cocks his head, grunting softly as he frames his dick between two thick fingers. "Oh, I will," he says, squeezing it gently, but with enough pressure to make his eyes roll back. "But I'm gonna take it nice and easy. Get me all wet and open for your cocks."

Mountain's hand flies to his own lap, pressing the heel of his hand into his bulge to relieve some pressure. Swiss does as well, letting his fingers drift lower and spread himself open. His cunt clenches around nothing, squeezing out a glob of slick that trails down his ass and pools on the shitty hotel duvet.

Swiss groans as he shoves two fingers inside all the way to the knuckle, head thudding back against the mattress at the sudden stretch and fullness. He knows that he'll be even fuller by the end of the night.

He pulls them out after a moment, a few lazy thrusts, admiring the way they shine in the lamplight. He brings them to his lips, locking eyes with Aether and then Mountain as he sucks them clean. He moans unashamedly at his own taste and pulls them from his mouth with an obscene pop.

"You haven't seen anything yet. You boys ready for the show?"