#i started up again with just the top teeth

[syoddeye]

What if Simon goes back fo rhis card, but she won't give it back unless he tries again?

prev.

"sound it out, big fella."

simon huffs and glares at the barback in the corner of his eye. the man's pretending not to listen, working a damp cloth over a two-top that's already shining.

the place isn't even open yet. the door's propped ajar with a brick, and it's hours before service starts. he came early on purpose, figuring he could grab his card and go. maybe avoid this exact interaction. but no. here you are, dangling it in front of him.

he could take it. just lean over the counter, swipe it out of your hand, maybe get a handful of your hip and a squeeze in the process. but no, you had to go and get cute about it.

"'and it over."

"nice try. you know i mean whatever line you were going to feed me the other night."

"wasn't gonna feed you a line."

"no? then what the fuck was that? a disappearing act?" you lean forward on the counter, elbows resting on the wood, fists tucked under your chin. it makes you look pixieish, face tilted up, playing at innocence, but the glint in your eyes says otherwise. you're enjoying this. "performance anxiety?"

a lick of heat lashes over the back of his neck and curls around his throat until he swallows. "slip of the tongue."

your mouth takes on a shape he'd find annoying on any other face. you tilt your head, and he swears he can almost see a spade tail swishing behind you.

"right. so then what was the plan?"

"there was no plan."

"mm," you hum, skeptical, dragging it out. "and that's why you've sat closer each time you come in? that wasn't you working up the nerve?"

he could lock a single hand around both of your wrists, hoist them above your head, reclaim his card, and get a good long look down your top. easily. he must harbor some kind of masochistic streak to keep talking. it grinds his teeth.

"no, and you're gettin' on my last nerve—"

"i bet i am," you cut in, cheerful and unbothered. "so why don't i make this easier for everyone, and…"

you pull back, then rise onto your toes, leaning over the bar to reach him. he watches, fingers twitching, as you slide the card into the front pocket of his shirt and pat it twice.

"there's a note taped to the back," you smile, wicked and triumphant. "my number. call it. unless you'd like to run for it again."

simon remains frozen for a beat, your hand lingering just long enough to burn its shape into his chest. his jaw flexes, gears gumming up in his head.

you pull back, light on your feet like you haven't just tucked a grenade into his shirt. that teasing gleam in your eyes, daring, like you're so sure he won't do something. a baited hook, glaring and obvious, as if you don't care he's big enough to snap the line.

he exhales hard through his nose. "you're a pain in the arse."

you grin, wide and unrepentant, backing away with your hands in your apron. "you'll get over it. or not. but you'll call me first."

he watches you retreat through the door to the back, disappearing before he can think of anything clever to say. his mind wiped. instead, he stands there, stuck.

the barback clears his throat, breaking the silence with a nervous chuckle. "she got you, mate."

simon cuts him a look harsh enough to make the man flinch, but he doesn't say a word. he turns on his heel and strides out, letting the door slam against the brick.

later, in the quiet of his flat, he studies the note like it might combust. he twists the corner, staring hard at your name and number. been ages since he got one. longer since he called a bird up.

he doesn't care. shouldn't care. but you've got an attitude, quick and cutting. poking the bear, prodding the bull. testing to see how far he'll let you go. mouthy.

he wants to see what you can do with it.

[butchizuku]

Untouched ᥫ᭡; Caleb

ᨳ Synop. Questions swirl around your mind as you reacquaint yourself with Caleb, but the most pressing? What was this feeling he stirred within you?

໋𓈒 Details. 18+ minors dni, gn afab reader, slight lore implications regarding Caleb's arm, kissing, heavy petting, general intimacy, dry humping, run time; 1k ৎ

(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) Director's Note. Happy Caleb day lovers <33 Just a lil something inspired by his limited five star card.

The mechanical flex and low hum of Caleb’s new fangled arm is disconcerting. Goosebumps prickle your tender skin as it grows closer, the robotic fingers flexing and outstretched. The ample, overwhelming urge for touch choked you, drowning out the strangeness of the past few days. Blood rushes against your ear drums as you tentatively meet him halfway, your fingers curling over the cool, stiff metal of his hand.

“I can’t feel you,” Caleb murmurs, peering at you through his lashes.

His fingers slip between yours but he doesn’t reach out with his other hand. You stand for a moment in limbo, too timid to make another move when pinned beneath his smouldering gaze. His name sits heavy on your tongue, waiting for your lips to part.

“Caleb, I-” you start, quickly trailing off, shrinking into yourself.

Gliding your other hand up the length of his bare abdomen, you struggle to find the right thing to say. You figure, your actions might speak louder than any number of words could. His skin is warm to the touch and smooth with little blemishes to disturb your path from his stomach to his chest. The rhythmic thrum of his heart grows stronger as you place the palm of your hand flat against him for a moment. Pressing himself closer to you, Caleb cups your hand with his.

“You can still feel this,” you murmur, your bottom lip pressed between your teeth, “And this.”

Stepping between his thighs, you press your chest to his. Caleb’s breath grows laboured, it fans across your skin. You can’t help but shiver, in spite of the heat that covers your body like a heavy blanket. It’s surprising how hard the plains of his body are, against yours. Somewhere in the back of your mind, he’s still the pudgy faced kid you grew alongside, though he hadn’t been that child for sometime. Caleb hardened sometime between then and now but you hadn’t seen it, perhaps in part due to the soft gaze he always reserved for you.

“And, I can feel you, Caleb.”

Your words land somewhere between a gasp and a whisper, whisked quickly into the air.

“I’m right here,” Caleb shudders in your grasp, his jaw slack, “And so are you.”

A sound wretched from the deep recesses of his throat slipped forth, vulnerable and frighteningly familiar– thick with wanton desire. Caleb burrows his face into your chest, his nose nestled against the length of your collarbone. His bottom lips drags against your skin, slick with spit, as he speaks.

“Right here.”

His hands glide over your waist and travel up your spine.

“Please,” he murmurs into you like a prayer, half baked and rushed in desperation.

There’s that ache again, deep in the pit of your stomach, thrumming and yelling within you for a modicum of your attention. It seeks the very thing you’ve continued to deny yourself, the thing you’ve forced yourself to see as repulsive. But, was there anything quite as pure as your first love? Could, it really be shameful to want him.

“Caleb,” you breathe, fighting off the trembling nerves that make your fingers shake.

They still shake as you dig them into the flesh of his shoulders, using all your force to push him down onto the flimsy cot. The legs wobble and creak for a moment as the weight shifts and you throw your thighs on top of his. Hair dangles in your face as you peer down at him, your gaze flickering between his lidded eyes marred with confusion and his gently parted lips. They’re chapped and have begun to crack along the edges.

“Kiss me.”

You can’t bring yourself to lean in any closer, your heartbeat drowning everything else out. Your chest heaves with an anxious breath and you have half a mind to whisper, “please.”

The metal of his hand is cold against your flush skin, but it’s feather light in its touch. Creeping over your spine and lightly curling around the base of your neck, Caleb pulls you closer until your lips are but a ghost over his. Bracing your hands on his bare pecs, his other hand keeps you steadied by pressing itself into the dip of your lower back.

Kissing Caleb is akin to what you imagine dipping yourself into molten lava. Your body melds into his, perfectly. There is no trace of the awkward pretense that plagued you or even the confusion turned anger that tinged your vision when you first set your eyes upon him, the first time in months. His tongue slips between your lips like he’s kissed you a thousand times before, and maybe he has in another lifetime or even a dream, but the ease makes your head spin. There is nothing to vocalize as Caleb swallows each and every little sound you make with his kiss, suckling you down to the bone with just his mouth.

Whatever single, precarious thread of respect and distance that kept the two of you at arms length snaps. His hands slide from the small of your back to grip your hips, his fingers jabbing into your doughy flesh. His bulge brushes against your crotch, eliciting a groan from Caleb. Your body moves on its own accord and you find yourself grinding against him even as the bed squeaks obnoxiously. The seam of your jeans pulled taunt and pressed snugly to your clit forces a moan to stumble off the tip of your tongue.

“Show me how sorry you are,” you pant, pressing your nose to his neck, “And how much you missed me.”

Caleb chuckles, nipping at your bottom lip, “You want me so bad it makes you look stupid pipsqueak,” he murmurs with his lips curled up in a grin.

Your protests and the squealed, shrill call of his name is buried into another kiss and pulled from the forefront of your mind as he bucks his hips into yours. He’s hard, you can feel his cock straining against the confines of his slacks, begging for release.

“I’m kidding, I’ll do whatever you wish, my sweetheart.”

His promise is melded against the shell of your ear as he grazes the lobe between his teeth. 

“Just so long as I can have you here in my arms.”

© All content belongs to butchizuku. You are not allowed to modify, translate, redistribute, or plagiarize in anyway. Do not recommend outside of tumblr (tiktok, wattpad, twitter etc).

[cal-writes]

wrote a lil something for how their night ended 💁‍♀️

-

"I can't believe I curled my hair for this." Nami slams her hairbrush down onto the sink before gathing her hair up into a messy bun. Zoro hums from his seat on the closed toilet lid, picking at the scruffed skin on his knuckles. He flexes his fingers. Didn't break anything but the skin already started to bruise on the train ride home. One of Nami's earrings falls into the sink, sliding down the procelain before it hits the stopper. She exhales sharply grabbing the edge bathroom counter.

Zoro watches her through the mirror. She is glaring at her own face as her fingers drum on the sink.

"If he's smart, he won't try that again." Zoro tells her.

Nami closes her eyes and reaches up to unclasp her other earring. "I could have handled it." She snaps at him, gathering both earrings to put them in the little basket with the rest of her cheap jewlery. It sits next to the sink on top of the case with the expensive jewlery.

Zoro watches her rummage through her shelves until she finds the hairband she is looking for to push the fringe out of her face.

"Didn't want you to risk chipping a nail." He says, just as she is putting cleanser on her fingers. She catches his eyes through the mirror and squints. Zoro just lifts an eyebrow in response.

She clicks her tongue and sighs. The product foams as she rubs her fingers together. "Give me more credit." She retorts before rubbing her cheeks but her tone lacks heat. "There's spare toothbrushes in the cupboard." Nami says with her lips pursed to avoid telling foam in her mouth. Zoro leans forward to open the cupboard.

He has his backpack sitting in the hallway with his own toothbrush but he won't say no to replacing it, considering how far down he's worn the bristles at this point. Nami steps aside to make room at the sink. Her fingers making slow circles across her face and leaving a layer of white foam behind as he he comes up next to her, grabbing her toothpaste.

"Man, I liked Kidd's bar." She mutters as he's brushing his teeth. "They should fire that guy." Holding the toothbrush makes the broken skin on his knuckles pull across his bones painfully.

Zoro makes an affirmative noise and takes a step back to let her rinse her face off. A few drops of water splash across the room and land on Zoro's jeans. "You're staying, right?" Nami asks, blinking rapidly with wet lashes. Zoro spits into the sink as she goes to grab a towel.

"Didn't have other plans." He tells her.

a year ago I drew this fanart for @cal-writes train AU (fic found HERE) and it has been my favorite piece of fanart of last year. So today I wanted to do a redraw, but instead of drawing the same piece again, I drew a prequel to the events in the last piece!

[thehoneybeestings]

──˚₊•Sugar Plum•‧₊˚──

Word Count: 2.3k

Synopsis: After years of competing for the title of Star Senior at Piltover Springs Dance School, the hatred that Violet Lanes and Y/n Y/l/n have garnered for each other is rendered a waste when in a turn of events, they are both awarded the distinction. When this forces them to confront what feelings they have for each other outside of unbridled loathing, they find that the line between hatred and lust is much finer than they thought...

Continuation of this headcanon (can be read alone, though; you'll just miss out on some context)

Content/Warnings: nsfw, smut!, top! vi, bottom! reader, low-key softdom! vi, lowkey subby! reader, reader has female anatomy, reader referred to with feminine terms/pet names (princess, good girl, etc.), pussy eating (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, mirror sexxxx, lots of consent checks bc vi you are so sweetie, can't not think of Wicked when i hear the phrase "unadulterated loathing" so i am sorry if you are in the same boat

A/N: okay guys... here it is teehee. thank you SO much for all of the love on my dancer! vi x dancer! r headcanon; I honestly did not expect it! i really really enjoyed writing for this little plotline and I'm glad you guys enjoyed it, too; and i hope this scene brings it justice... enjoy! mwah ha ha

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

You’re not quite sure how seven years of pure, unadulterated loathing between you and Violet Lanes had led to this; Vi, with a knee slotted in between your legs, hands splayed across your torso as she kissed you, and you, pinned between her body and the ballet bar behind you, whimpering into her mouth as you rode her thigh… 

The two of you were staying late at the dance studio to see if you could finally manage to perfect the lift in your duet that had been kicking your ass, and somewhere along the way, you’d found out just how fine the line between hatred and lust could be. 

What possessed you to step- no, leap- over said line, you didn’t know, but you resigned to mulling over that later, when your sworn enemy wasn’t pulling at the hair on the nape of your neck.

Her tongue traces the line of your throat before she latches on; it isn’t long before she gets carried away and you let out a hiss at the pinch of her teeth on your pulse. 

Her movements come to a halt. “Shit,” she’d exhale, “Sorry, didn’t mean to-”

“Keep going.” 

She raises a brow, rearing her head back to look at you.“Yeah? I'm gonna leave a mark if I do.”

“I don’t care what you do, just want you to keep going.”

Who is she to deny such a sweet request?

She resumes her attack on the sensitive skin until the mark on your neck is to her liking. She pulls back to assess her handiwork, and you can’t help but chuckle at her concentration through your haze. 

“Seriously? I think you're good, Vi.”

“Just makin’ sure,” she’d say with a lop-sided grin. 

You shoot her a grin of your own. “Don’t worry; I know you don’t like to share.”

“No,” she begins before leaning in, her smile barely brushing your own, “I don’t.”

Your lips would meet again, tongues moving slow and languid against each other as she rocks into you just the same. The contact- however delicious- isn’t quite enough, and it’s starting to drive you crazy. Your breath is getting heavier, your whines more shameless, and you’ve started meeting each rock of her leg with the rock of your hips. You’re chasing more- you need more- and Vi can tell. 

She’s not going to make it easy for you, of course. 

She plants the heel of her foot back on the ground, separating her knee from the heat between your thighs.

“Wh-what?” You plead breathlessly, “Why’d you stop?”

“You sure you can handle this, sweetheart? You’re falling apart and I’m not even inside you yet.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet hers, wild and desperate. 

“What,” she’d ask, cocking her head to the side, “Is that what you want? You want me inside?” 

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, please, that’s what I want.” 

You swear you can see her pupils blow out. You were begging for her. You’d been icing her out for the past seven years, and now, here you were, begging for her.

If this was a dream… then she was sure she’d wake up soon, and she wanted to taste you first.

“Can you hold out for just a little longer?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I mean, yeah… why?”

And then, Violet Lanes is on her knees in front of you.

“Oh. That's why.” Your smile is bashful as you look down at her, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Can I?” She peers up at you, hands toying with the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Fuck yes, you can.”

A satisfied smirk spreads across her face, and she tugs the sweatpants down to your ankles, leaving you to step out of the rest of the pooled material.

“Alright, baby; toss your leg up,” she commands, guiding your leg over her shoulder with a hand behind your thigh. Your hands grip the ballet bar behind you, and you hope to God you’ll be able to hold yourself up through the feeling of her mouth on you.

“You good? Holding on tight?”

“Yeah, yeah; I’m good.” 

She nods from below you with a smile, and her hand comes trailing up the calf swung over her shoulder to the plush of your thigh seated next to her head. She’s got an arm wrapped around your other leg, securing you in place.

Your breath begins to stutter as she places open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh, your body twitching and tensing in anticipation each time she grows closer to where you need her.

“Relax,” she purrs, thumb rubbing circles into the meaty flesh beside her.

You nod, closing your eyes and leaning your head back with a sigh; and when she finally places a kiss on the patch of wetness soaking through your underwear, you fucking melt.

“Good girl,” she draws out, feeling your weight press into her fully. “You still good with this?”

“Violet, I’m gonna lose my mind if your mouth isn’t on me in-”

You yelp as she pulls your underwear to the side to lick a stripe up from the nectar pooling at your entrance to the hardened pearl above it. 

“Not sure you’re in any position to make demands here, sugar plum.”

Your eyes roll back into your head when she attaches her lips to your clit, and when she sucks, your hand shoots down to grab at the hair on her crown. 

She moans into you- noted- and her tongue darts back down to lap at your wetness, trailing up, then down, then up, then down, collecting as much as she can on the tip of her warm tongue. 

“Fuck, princess; you taste so fucking good.”

She barely lets herself finish her sentence- words muffled in your pussy- before she’s back on your clit, swirling her tongue in circles around the swollen bud. 

The grip you have on her hair is tighter now, your thighs trembling, your features knit together in pleasure; you look down to find Vi so lost in between your legs that you don’t even think she notices how close you are.

You loosen your grip on her hair to tap rapidly on her shoulder. “V-Vi, baby,” 

As pussy drunk as she is, her head still snaps up at the sound of the pet name on your tongue. Her lips are swollen and glossy with your slick, her cheeks flushed red as the hair on her head. 

“What’s up, princess?” 

“J-just… gonna cum soon,” you pant, “want you inside first…”

“Yeah?” she smirks, gently guiding your leg off of her shoulder. She stands up, hand gripping your waist as she leans to press a sloppy kiss on your lips; and fuck, you can taste yourself on her mouth. 

“Wanna cum on my fingers?” She asks in between kisses; and you nod against her mouth, hand on the back of her head pulling her impossibly close.

She chuckles into your mouth before pulling away to drink in your features; your pleading eyes, your soft lips, the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

“You’re beautiful.” 

There was that look: so soft. So soft that you could hardly stand it, your head lowering in order to escape it. 

“Oh? You’re shy now?” 

You giggle- and she wonders if that sound had always been so sweet- before pushing at her chest.

“Shut up. I'm not shy.”

“Oh, yeah?” The raise of her brow and the cockiness of her voice says she’s got something planned. 

“Turn around for me, then.”

“I-I… what? I’m-”

“Turn. Around.”

Her grip on your waist tightens, and she’s twisting your hips until suddenly, you’re face-to-face with your own reflection.

“There’s my pretty girl,” she lulls, head dropping down to plant a kiss on your shoulder. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Y-yeah… yeah,” you breathe out. You’re watching yourself come undone for her.

“Look at me.”

You’re a little embarrassed at how quickly you obey.

“You look away, and I stop, yeah?”

You whine. “Vi, really? Just-”

For a moment, the intensity of her gaze disappears, as if she’s dropped whatever persona she’d been assuming; as if she was making herself smaller for you

“If you don’t like this, just let me know. Don’t want you uncomfortable or all in your head, yeah?” 

You quirk a smile at her consideration. “No… I like it. I trust you.”

She smirks at you. “Just being a brat, then?” 

Your eye roll answers that question.

“Just being a brat. Got it. Eyes on me then, baby.”

And then, she’s pulling your- now soaked- underwear down to your thighs, reaching down to glide her middle and ring fingers through your slick, and your eyes flutter shut, and you’ve already broken the one rule she gave you.

“Y/n,” she scolds, her fingers halting. 

Your eyes fly open to find her again, and you’re muttering out a desperate apology, rocking back on her fingers, seeking any sensation you can get. 

Her free arm comes around to circle your waist, holding you in place so that you can’t chase your release on your own. “I gave you one rule, sweetheart. Keep those pretty eyes on me and I promise I’ll make you cum.”

You nod frantically, eyes never leaving her own, even as she brings her fingers up to rub your own wetness into your clit; even as those fingers sink into you from behind, three knuckles deep.

“Jesus fuck,” she curses, “fuckin’ swallowing me.”

Your thighs are already shaking, your walls fluttering around her fingers as they adjust to the new fullness.

“Gonna move now, okay?” she warns before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Yes,” you nod, “yes- fuck!”

You call out as her hand flips over, fingers rotating inside you to press into the ridges of nerves on your front wall.

“That didn’t take long to find…” she muses.

“Fuck you,” you scoff to the best of your ability- although it doesn’t really pack a punch when you look so blissed out- and Vi laughs at you.

She fucking laughs, and you remember for a moment what makes her so damn annoying; but then, she’s pistoning into you, and your mind goes blank.

You feel high off of her fingers, limbs tingling and head fuzzy, completely out of control of whatever sounds are coming out of your mouth. You can vaguely hear “fuck, yes,” and “shit, shit, shit,” and “please, Vi, please” in your own voice. You can vaguely hear the obscene sounds of her fingers moving in and out of your slick, which is, no doubt, dripping down your thighs by now. You can vaguely make out her focused expression through the stars you’re seeing.

When she brings her mouth to the shell of your ear to speak to you, though, it’s her voice that brings you back down to earth. “You with me, sweet girl? Focused on me?”

If you focus any harder on her fingers slipping in and out of you, or on the way her breath picks up in your ear, or on the furrow of her own brow, you’ll cum.

Wait… shit, you're about to cum.

“Vi,” you call out, eyes widening, “I’m gonna- I’m so close- fuck, please.”

In a second, the arm around your waist is unraveling, and she reaches down to rub tight circles onto your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge.

You can’t fucking help it; your eyes roll back, head falling back onto her shoulder, breaking the one rule she gave you.

“Sorry, sorry, ‘m sorry, I can’t-” 

You’re near tears as her hands continue their ministrations. “ ‘S alright baby,” she coos, “You’re doing so fucking good, just want you to cum for me.”

And with a guttural noise you’ve never heard yourself make, you’re doing just that; spasming on her fingers, legs shaking underneath you, knuckles white as they grip the ballet bar you’re practically doubled over. 

Vi works you through your orgasm until your hand is shooting down in between your legs, shooing her own away. “Shit, that’s enough… ‘m all done.”

She’s careful pulling out, taking the two digits into her own mouth before pulling your underwear back up in place. Her hands return to your hips, turning your body back towards her. You still haven’t opened your eyes; still trying to catch your breath.

“Hey,” she speaks softly, pulling you in, “You okay?”

When you open your eyes, she’s smiling down at you like she adores you. It’s so tender, so gentle; so much so that in the come down off the high you’d just experienced, you start to tear up.

“I’m sorry,” you begin with a sniffle, “for being such an asshole all this time.”

“Woah, woah, woah- first of all, so was I; but more importantly, you’re fucked out right now. Just worry about catching your breath for a few minutes, okay love?”

You give her a weak chuckle as she pulls away to gather your previously discarded bottoms. She leans down in front of you, guiding your legs as she directs you to put “one foot in… okay, now the other,” before pulling them up to their place on your hips.

You thank her with a smile, and she waves you off in response.

“Do you, uh…” she’s nervously rubbing the back of her neck as if she weren’t just demanding that you keep your eyes on her while she plowed you, “do you think you’d wanna come back to my place? Powder’s over at Ekko’s and my Dad has game nights with his friends every Wednesday, so it’ll just be us. We can just chill, watch a movie or something, order food if you want. Just… don’t wanna ditch you or anything, wanna make sure you’re all good after-”

“That sounds perfect, Violet.” 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

You’re not quite sure how seven years of pure, unadulterated loathing between you and Violet Lanes had led to this; a sleepover at her house, watching shitty action movies together, splitting a pizza, and falling asleep on the couch with your limbs tangled together.

But here you were. And it really was perfect; and everyone knows that you don’t settle for less than perfect.

End ୨ৎ

Taglist: @spidercat-soccerfan, @lipglosskxsses, @baylegend6

[cottonlemonade]

Behind Closed Doors

word count: 1242 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: University AU!Iwaizumi x chubby!Reader

genre: spicy, tad of fluff for cushioning

warnings: mdni

request: Hi! I love your stories!! Could you do lunch, 22 procrastination with iwaizumi please!!! Thank you 😊 || fluffy-spicy, at a party with boyfriend Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi knew better than to question why you pulled him away from the commotion in the common area and dorm hallways to find refuge in his room, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was about more than simply wanting to escape the ruckus of the party. When you had grabbed his hand, you said something about needing his “professional opinion” and with every step, his sinking suspicion that this would not be anything innocent was confirmed. Closing the door behind you, he was gently pushed to sit on the edge of his desk and waited, tense with anticipation. It didn’t seem like you were still mad about earlier, when he may or may not have thrown a bit of a hissy fit about the revealing outfit you chose for the night. All it took from you was a cocked brow for him to immediately regret his possessive outbreak, and he begrudgingly promised to never do it again. You got on your tiptoes to kiss him so… you had forgiven him, right? 

The party beyond the door was in full swing from the sound of it. Music, hoots, and laughter could still be heard, albeit slightly muffled. He swallowed as he admired your plump silhouette in the dark room, the only light coming from the lamp on the other nightstand his roommate once again had forgotten to turn off. The tight little skirt and deep neckline of your top he had commented on a few hours ago were now a godsend when you stepped closer, slotting one of your legs between his. 

“I thought since you are the expert on fashion…”, you began, looking far too sweet to match your actions, “what do you think about this?” 

Soft fingers ran along the collar of your shirt, pulling it a little lower to expose the black lace of your bra. His breathing became shallow. 

“It’s new. I wanna know what you think since you’re so concerned with my wardrobe.”

Your boyfriend held back another apology and instead said in a voice, that still stayed raspy even after clearing his throat, “I might need a closer look first.” 

He leaned forward to set butterfly kisses on your bare skin.

His lips gently brushed over your breasts, your neck, your jaw, before he sweetly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear so he could catch your lobe between his teeth.

The warmth and softness of your body pressed against him, the hot tingles on his lips that never went away since your first ever kiss, and the delicate smell of your perfume made his head spin. He soon felt the familiar pull in his lower abdomen and drew you closer, turning the sweet gentle touches into hungry ones. He craved you now. 

His free hand wandered over your thighs, up to your hips, and down again only to settle on the curve of your ass and when he pressed his lips again to yours he had you smiling into the kiss.

Not long after you slipped your tongue into his open mouth and rolled your hips against him did he start to feel completely drunk. 

You hummed and chuckled when he pushed even closer so he could squeeze as much of you as possible. 

“I need you.”, you whispered through a sigh. You sounded so desperate for him. 

More than anything did he wish he could give you what you wanted, wished he could just lock the door and prove his love until neither of you was able to speak anymore. But the walls were thin, his roommate could return any second and the people outside got increasingly rowdy, so it would not be unlikely for them to mistake his door for theirs.

And so he shook his head, partly to clear his thoughts, clouded heavily by the feeling of your plush thigh, no longer accidentally rubbing against his bulge. 

“If Trashykawa comes back, I’m done for.”, he said half frustrated half apologetic, kissing your collarbone ever so gently.

You frowned, broken from the spell of passion. “He’d tease you about getting laid?”

Iwaizumi shrugged and nodded. “He still gives me shit about that time in the kitchen.”

“We were never caught in the kitchen.”, you said in surprise.

He chuckled, “No, not that. When he caught us making out that one time.”

“He does live a sad existence, doesn't he.”

Your boyfriend shivered a little when your nails tenderly scratched the back of his neck.

“I would be sad, too, if someone else did this to you.”, he murmured, tracing the tip of his tongue just above the lace of your bra.

“Not fair.”, you pouted.

“I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could help you.”

A small protest escaped his lips when you removed yourself from his embrace, leaving him cold and wanting.

Seemingly aimless, you strolled to his bed and let yourself fall into his comfortable sheets. Iwaizumi‘s mouth curled contritely, seeing you stretch so far away from him.

“I really can’t go back out there like this.”, you said quietly, and ran your hand along your body.

He watched in awe as you wiggled out of the little leather skirt and took off the shirt, too, noting with an appreciative grin that your underwear matched. In the next moment, he threw panicked looks at the door. What if someone came in and saw you like this?

Yet, the softest moan brought his attention back to you. He didn’t dare to move or blink, not wanting to miss a thing.

You were lying on your back, one hand between your sinful thighs, teasing yourself.

“Don’t do this to me.”, he begged in a failing voice.

He was sure he stopped breathing altogether when your fingertips slipped into the cups of your bra.

“But it’s so much fun.”, you whispered with a little pant, arching your back, leaning into your own touch as you started to tease your nipples.

As he watched you squirm and gasp, all Iwaizumi could do was try to ignore the roaring in his head and the growing problem in his pants. He should be the one to dip his fingers into you. He should be the one to take off your bra and grab handfuls of your tits and tummy. 

“I’m close…”, you whined, squeezing your legs together and locking eyes with him.

“Cum for me, princess.”, he told you, calmly.

Covering your mouth with one hand to conceal your climax, Iwaizumi watched his gorgeous, daring, evil girlfriend twitch as you came down from your high.

You let out a happy sigh like one might after a refreshing drink and smiled at him through glazed eyes.

“You feeling better now?”, he asked with a smirk.

You gave a small nod.

"You'll be the death of me.", he said defeated, letting his gaze wander over your devilish body, every inch of which he wanted to touch, mark, and worship.

"Come here."

You raised an eyebrow. "What happened to your determination?"

"It watched you play."

You laughed quietly, hiding your face in his pillow with the most adorable giggle, as if you hadn't just driven him to madness.

You got up and took your sweet time returning his sheets to their original state. A gesture he would have considered thoughtful if you wouldn‘t do it in that cursed lace.

Finally, you walk back over, stopping a few inches before him, waiting.

"Could you help me out, pretty girl?"

art: @ikizamade222 on Twitter

a/n: thank you so so much anon for the request and kind words! I’m sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

Also thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for helping me edit! 🫶🏻

[thechaoticcheese]

TW: Numbness, Mentions of Bruises, Yelling, Waterboarding, Torture, Lack of Care for the Reader

Wrongfully Accused - Chapter 4 - The Truth

Gaz had followed his lover and Price until the interrogation room. He watched the two enter and he stopped. His mind pounded with thoughts and his heart screaming at him that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. He cursed underneath his breath before he turned back and stalked his way to the barracks. His mind was milling on who would frame the person he loved so much. There was just no way you could do something like this. And god damnit he was going to prove you innocent, or do his best trying. First things first, he has to see who knows. Soap was first. He was the closest, or at least his room was and he’d assumed that Ghost was probably still in the commons room, or somewhere farther away from Soap’s location. Gaz noticed his Scottish friend starting to make his way towards the interrogation rooms and he interacted with the Brit first. Soap seemed a bit disheveled, his brows furrowing and a concerned look plastered on his face. “Aye, Gaz, ya’know wha’ happened b’tween Price an’ Y/N? He took’em away in cuffs.” Soap sounded distressed, in a friend kind of way, worried about your safety and whatever conflict the Captain had with you. “Yeah. He suspects ‘em of bein’ the spy on the base.” Gaz said with slightly gritted teeth, the thought made his fist tighten. “I don’t believe ‘im.” “You don’t believe the Cap’n?” Soap sounded a tad surprised, knowing that Gaz and Price went on a majority of missions together when it was just a two man job. Though he also knew Gaz’s unwavering loyalty to people he heavily cared about. There must’ve been a war inside Gaz, but to Gaz, the answer was clear who was on top. “Not with this. Somethin’ is up. Imma talk to Ghost next. Can you get in contact with Laswell for me?” Gaz requested from Soap, who nodded. “Aye. You think Simon knows som’tin’?” The Scotsman asked curiously. “No tellin’. If not, I have a few more people to ask.” Gaz said, crossing his arms over his chest. His mind flashing back to the burn that was on your face. He shivered as he watched the nurse start to carve out your flesh and you just didn’t move. Soap’s gentle pat on his shoulder brought Gaz back, the mohawked man offering a comforting smile. “Good luck.” “You too.” With that, the two headed in opposite directions. Gaz had a look of determination on his face as he marched through the halls towards the commons room. His mind whirled with what he’d say when he saw Ghost. A lot of it was yelling, but he knew he’d have to approach his friend carefully. The thought of Ghost doing nothing hurt more than he thinks it should’ve. Maybe because the team was so tight knit, hearing that one of his good friends did nothing to help his significant other boiled his blood. When he reached the room, it looked like Ghost had just finished cleaning up the table. He was now standing by the sink, rubbing his thumb back and forth against the mug you were drinking from. His eyes locked onto it before they glanced over at Gaz, who was beelining it towards the taller male. “Gaz.” Ghost gruffly greeted the male before putting the cup gently in the sink. “I should hit you. Ya know.” Gaz greeted back with a growl, taking in a deep breath to calm down the anger that had been bubbling inside him as Ghost glanced a humorous look at the shorter male. While Gaz was known to jump to the extremes quite quickly, the glare Gaz was returning to the masked soldier told Ghost how much he was willing to back up the claim.

Ghost leaned onto the counter, hands gripping the edge as his fingers went into the sink, along with his gaze. It was as if he was ashamed for doing nothing, refusing to look Gaz in his eyes again, or at least for now. “I’m sorry.” He said softly. “My significant other is being tortured by Price, got burned in front of you and you did nothing, and you’re ‘sorry’?” Gaz practically lectured the older male before he took another deep breath closing his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists. He so wanted to drill Ghost’s head into the sink with one blow, but he had to keep things professional, as professional it was to yell at your friend in the commons room where people could see the two of you arguing.

“Yeah.” Ghost replied, his monotonous voice not changing. This was the closest that Gaz was going to get to a proper apology and he knew it. Though the thought of Ghost doing nothing to stop Price didn’t stop itching at his brain. “Did… Did you even try?” Gaz spoke softer, a soft crack in his voice. He tried to figure out what Ghost did. The silence spoke volumes as Ghost recalled the incident from earlier this morning. Gaz had never seen the bloke wince, but he did, making the shorter soldier wonder if Ghost watched you get burned. “No… Price…” Ghost was trying to speak, trying to explain the situation, but anything past the ‘No’, Gaz didn’t register. “You watched Price burn my partner and dragged them away and you didn’t do anything!” Gaz was ready to explode, his voice indicating that he was already there at such a loud tone. “They were hurt and you couldn’t stand up to Price to get them any bloody treatment! Did his accusation of them being the spy really change your mind that much?!” He continued to spit fire at the tall man. Ghost’s hands gripped tighter against the counter and sink. Gaz swore if he gripped it any tighter it would break. The masked man sharply turned to Gaz and jabbed his finger into his chest, making him stumble back a bit. Ghost being quick wasn’t unheard of, but that didn’t make it any less shocking when it happened. “I do not have a soft spot for traitors. If they are proven innocent I will apologize. Until then they are the enemy.” Ghost growled. The two were ready to fight there in the commons. It was just up to who would swing first. “What ‘appened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?” Gaz growled back, the air thickening as he leaned into the masked man’s finger. He was challenging the taller bloke. Ghost’s brown eyes flashed in some sort of angry emotion before he sighed and moved away. While Gaz knew it wasn’t because Ghost wanted to back down, he knew that Ghost knew that it would be the best move at this point. If the taller man swung, the commons room would quickly turn into a battle ground, and that would just make everything worse. “Nothin’.” He replied in a quieter tone. Hearing the reply made Gaz chuckle softly, a quip at the tip of his tongue, but he reminded himself to stay calm. Or well, to cool down to not have a fight in the commons room. He already made Ghost get close to boiling over. “Fuckin’ right. Now follow it. I have Soap contactin’ Laswell. I need to ask Price who he got ‘is information from. Though I have a feelin’ it’s one of the blokes that came in with Y/N when they first star’ed to work here. You wanna see what you can find out?” Gaz suggested, his voice determined and calm, but that was a contrast to how he felt. He’d definitely would need a round with Ghost in the ring after all of this is over. He knew he would more than likely lose, but a chance to hone skills and hopefully make some blows, would be worth it.

“Yea. I’ll make ‘em talk.” Ghost responded standing up fully now. “Good. Imma go talk to Price then. Meet ya back here later.” Gaz said with a small smile, gently punching Ghost’s arm, “You awe me a round after this blows over.” Ghost only replied with a half-amused grunt before going to talk to the other three. Gaz felt good about himself, puffing out his chest slightly in a mini victory before pivoting back to the interrogation room. He paused at your barrack’s door. Gaz’s mind filled with apologies that he could only wish to tell you at the moment. Price had to be wrong in this situation. He usually wasn’t, but everyone slips up sometimes. Then he felt bad for lashing out at Ghost, knowing his real anger wasn't at him, nor Price, but the asshole who accused you of being the spy. Whoever it was had to be the one that’s sabotaging everything. He must’ve been there for quite some time because a hand touched his shoulder. He glanced over to see Price. He seemed slightly defeated and tired, but still angry. The blood on his gloves made Gaz want to shiver, but he held his stance. “Gaz. This… This is a ‘ard ask… But Imma need you in a few hours to ‘elp with interrogation’ Y/N-” “You fuckin’ crazy, mate?” Gaz interrupted his Captain, absolutely shocked at how easily Price let the obscene request leave his mouth. Though part of him noticed how Price winced, as if he had known what Gaz’s reaction would be. How long had the Captain been stewing on the question? “They’ll crack faster seeing that there’s no hope.” Price responded coldly. Then Gaz realized something. Price had completely put on his mission mask. One of those masks that isn’t seen, but it’s like a mental block so they could do their work. This was too hard for him to mentally handle and so he hid instead of asking questions. Gaz’s blood started to boil again, but he silently started to reason with himself. This would for sure hurt your relationship, but if you don’t do it, the others would do it just as roughly as Price. At least in this way he could make sure you don’t get it too rough and keep Price from dishing out harder punishments. Though he wasn’t going to agree without bargaining. “Aight… On two conditions.” Gaz said, Prices seemed a bit surprised. “One, you get yourself a nap, you look worse for wear. Two, you tell me who informed ya.” Price’s eyes narrowed at the Sergeant, clearly seeing the bargain, but being too tired to argue he nodded and huffed, “Nikolai… and fine. No more than two hours. In the meantime fetch me a bucket. When I wake up, fill it up with ice cold water.” Gaz nodded, and as soon as Price turned around and sulked to his room to sleep, he shivered. His mind raced. Nikolai? Nik? No… Nikolai wouldn’t… Was… Was it written? There was no way Nikolai could be the spy, everyone knew the Russian too well. Something was amiss.

Gaz quickly jogged to the commons room, or well, he tried. He almost sprinted in, looking for Soap or Ghost, his mind whirling. He spotted the two quietly conversing in the corner. Soap was in front of Ghost, pressed up against him, teasing the Brit with something or other. Gaz couldn’t entirely care what it was at this moment. He quickly headed over, watching as Ghost’s eyes went from Soap’s to his, nodding slightly in a silent greeting. Soap, seeing the nod, shifted away and turned towards Gaz with a big smile, blue eyes shining happily before he caught Gaz’s furrowed brows. The two men knew something went amiss in the plan, or unexpected at least. “We have a problem.” Gaz breathed out as soon as he had both of their attention. “The intel is from Nikolai.” “No fukin’ way.” Soap whispered out. “Yea… I’m wondering if someone forged his handwriting… As illegible as it is…” Gaz put forth his thoughts, Ghost nodded in agreement. “Do we know if he was ‘ere today, or recently?”

“No…” Ghost shook his head slightly, the mask above his eyes moving, no doubt furrowing his brows. “No, he couldn’t be. ‘im an’ Laswell have been on a mission the pas’ few days.” Soap interjected, his eyes narrowing, “We go’ a right proper rat.” He growled out.

Gaz’s fists tightened again, he wanted to find who it was and put them in the dirt now, “What else did you find out?” “Well, Laswell an’ Nik will be ova’ere as soon as they can… Mission complications… Laswell an’ Nik don’t think Y/N is the spy, though they did warn me that they’d lose all communication soon so we’ll have ta wait wit’ baited breath for their return.” “Fuck. Ghost?” “Only one I could find was Tree… Drunk out of ‘is mind. Not suitable for interrogation.” The Brit gruffly responded, anger hinted at the edge of his tone. “God damnit.” Gaz cursed under his breath, despite how much he craved to yell it. “So we have someone framing Nik, who in turn is framing Y/N, and until Nik comes back we’re sitting ducks…” “Aye…” Soap confirmed softly, offering a gently squeeze of Gaz’s shoulder. “We will ge’em out, don’ worry Gaz.” “Yeah but how soon?” He grumbled. Gaz wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel his fist hit whoever got you in this situation. For now, he had about an hour and a half to figure things out.

…

Now here he is. Gripping your hair and forcing you into the water that felt cold. He had iced it earlier, but then scrapped the ice and put some hotter water in so it wouldn’t be freezing like Price wanted. He wasn’t about to confront his Captain in these circumstances. He gently pulled your head out of the water as you gasped for air, spitting water out of your mouth as your lungs demanded air. “You gon’ talk now? Or are we gonna take it up a notch?” Price asked, his face getting close to yours as his eyes narrowed. You looked at Price through somewhat closed eyes. “Fuck off.” You manage to murmur out through your sore throat. “Dunk ‘em.”

…

It’s been weeks. You’re weaker than you’ve ever felt in your life. Between being beaten and starved, your will to even consider forgiving anyone on 141 was slipping. The last thread that you held onto tightly was Gaz’s. You wrapped his thread around your hand tightly until it started to cut your fingers, your blood making the thread slippery, each drop from when he’d hurt you. Eventually. He did stop coming. Your grip on his thread was slowly loosening. It had been 21 days, 3 weeks, since you were brought here. You’ve gone numb to so many things, Price’s words, the cold cement, the aches and pains in your body. The way Gaz would sneak you small rations. It hurt you. Having to be secretly fed and begging every single time Gaz had to leave you to not go.

Three weeks of being interrogated to the point that it didn’t matter what happened after this. You were resigning. You wouldn’t sue, though the thought has crossed your mind multiple times. Worst part is, you found who it was. Price just wouldn’t believe you. By day 15, you shut up. Not a word had left your mouth for 6 days. Gaz had been gone for a day and that’s when you found out. It was Quail. Fucking Tree. He let you in on all of his little secrets as he toyed with you, adding to the bruises that decorated your skin as he tried to ‘beat the information’ out of you. You hope he’d burn in hell. You now knew, or well, used to know what was happening. He planted a letter for Price, claiming it to be Nik, but due to the secrecy had to use newspaper clippings, and it was because he and Laswell found sensitive information on their mission about said spy. They just sent Tree to collect it after they sent it to a burner address that everyone knew of, it was just his day to check it. And Price fell for the bait. You couldn’t say a damn thing about their plans though. If you did, you’d be the spy, but if you didn’t, you’d be a traitor after being proven innocent. It fits in your mind, a traitor in a group of traitors.

Soon, someone gripped by your hair, your eyes focusing on the oh so familiar boots of your beloved Captain. Your weak body was limp as Price pulled you from the corner he left you in just hours before, dragging your body across the floor. He then set you up in the chair in the center of the room. “I got a real treat for ya later. Someone’s coming to visit.” Price growled out, looking into your defeated eyes, “You best hope they don’t keep this up.”

You refused to respond. He huffed, gripping the chair and staring into you with hatred, “You’ve been a thorn in my side these past few weeks.If you weren’t so damn important, you would be dead by now” The words were supposed to phase you. They did, but only a little, mainly because being dead sounded like a nice relief. Seeing how ineffective his words were, he growled, winding his arm back to punch you square in the jaw before the door busted open, causing both you and Price to look at the open door that swung open with so much force that it bounced off of the wall it hit. “Enough, John.” Laswell’s voice loudly cracked through the room, seeing Laswell holding Tree by his hair and wrist. “We’ve got the actual traitor, release them.” Your heart fluttered, seeing Nikolai and Gaz right behind her, as if two guards guiding someone, who didn’t need to be guarded mind you, and their dangerous captive. Though, you were only glad to see Nikolai and Laswell. Your heart couldn’t decide if Gaz earned that right in the fuzziness in your chest after everything. After all, your limp hand barely held the string.

Price’s eyes widened, stepping away as his mind turned. You could tell that he was processing the information as Laswell pushed Tree inside the room, Gaz and Nikolai both following immediately. Nik went straight for Price, consoling the man and quickly ushering out of the room. His voice was too soft for you to pick up any semblance of words, that, and you were barely paying attention. You knew Price’s world must’ve been rocked considering what Tree had already told you. You could barely register Gaz taking off your cuffs and tightening around the traitorous male’s wrist, not caring if he complained that it was too tight.

Good. You sickly thought as you heard the clicking of the cuffs.

Gaz brought you up off of the chair, wrapping your arm around his shoulders in an attempt to let you walk, but your body refused. Your mind was still numb to everything, trying to figure out if it could even walk. When you crumbled towards the floor, Gaz scooped you up in his arms. Gaz’s soft and sweet voice softly murmuring apologies. How he tried to get there sooner, but they were waiting on Nikolai and Laswell, but they had to be rescued after weeks of no contact. Price was stuck here and just took his anger out on you since he assumed you were a part of it. You didn’t respond. Part of you didn’t believe him.

The look of dread was sinking into Gaz as he made glances down to your body. While Price didn’t break anything, he dislocated so many things, only relocating them when he got pissed enough. It felt like some might’ve been broken then, but you weren’t sure. Gaz had sped up his walk as you barely recognize Soap’s worried blue eyes as Gaz bulldozed past the Scot.

The amount of care you felt for the world around you was non-existence and it worried Gaz. Every fiber of his being convinced that he was way too late, but he’d try. He’d try so damn hard to get his little angel back.

You heard words exchanged between a different medic than the one before and Gaz. Though as soon as your body felt the softer feeling of the cot, you passed out. Welcoming any softer feeling of an object compared to the cold feeling of the concrete you’d spent the previous nights on. When you woke up, you were covered in bandaids, wrappings, and a few splints on your fingers. You glanced down to see an IV in your arm, and, moving past your better judgement, you ripped it out with nothing more than a soft grunt. It alerted the new medic who swiftly came over, mumbling to themself as you stood up on shaky legs. “Hey! Hey! Sit back down. You need to rest.” He instructed, gently trying to keep you on the bed, but you refused. You still had strength in your body, more than you realized. Perhaps it was just your mental will power that was dead. “No…” Your raspy voice spoke, startling the medic. “I want to return to my room.” He hesitated, glancing away for a moment. “If you let me and my colleagues check in on you every hour on the hour… F-Fine.” You knew this wasn’t allowed, but the lacking care in your body showed, cause the medic seemed absolutely scared shitless by your gaze. You must’ve given him one hell of a glare.

He helped you to your room, always there for your stumbles as you partly wondered where the hell Gaz was. You would’ve sworn he’d be by your side after all of this, but he wasn’t there when you woke. The question soon answered itself as the medic flicked on the light to your room. Your bed was covered with new bedding, stuffed animals, flowers, pillows, anything and everything a lover could do to comfy up the military beds. Though no Gaz. Was he hoping to do a big reveal once you were better? It didn’t matter now. The surprise was ruined and you couldn’t care how nice it looked. Not like you’d choose to remember.

The scene in front of you didn’t affect the deadness in your heart. You just wanted to sleep somewhere more familiar than the medical bay. You stumbled over with the medic’s help. He was about to help you to the side of the bed before you took your arm and wiped off as much as you could, dumping a good chunk of it onto the floor. The only thing that remained was a brown stuffed teddy bear and the new pillows. The teddy bear was holding a heart that you only noticed after grabbing it to huck it onto the ground. You assumed that what it said on the heart was something cheap, before you paused. You noticed how the message was hand-sewn into a heart, that was a bit-lopsided, but also hand made. ‘To my Angel. You will forever be in my heart. No matter where we are.’ It read. Was it still sappy? Sewn in a bit sloppily? Absolutely, but you settled into bed with it. The stuffed bear held tightly against your chest as the medic carefully tucked you in.

“See you in an hour.” He said softly, carefully nudging the gifts on the ground towards the wall to be picked up later, before turning off the light to the room and leaving you alone. The darkness made your mind scream in fear, but the tiredness in your body gagged it as you finally closed your eyes to sleep against the mattress that felt so soft. Your arms had a death grip on the teddy bear. Its soft fur brushed against the bandages on your arms and chest. You wish you could feel how soft its fur was, but your body was being held together by the medical fabric. Soon, you were able to drift off to sleep with a soft warmness towards Gaz once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed glances at word count 4,027 words of this! I was debating on putting it in two parts, but.... Nah. You guys just get one BIG chapter. Y'all get two more chapters of angst and fluff until it ends. Not sure when it'll be posted cause my mind be everywhere lol. Inspire by this post.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

[lrgcarter]

Thanks for your question!

Ah, the humble hormagaunt. Let's see, where to start. I imagine that, living with Jeff, you've picked some of this up by osmosis but I'd best start at the beginning.

Imagine you're just chillin' out in the galaxy. You have a map of the galaxy showing the spiral, that central bar thing in the middle, Earth off to the left, and the top of your page is labelled North. There's a 'You Are Here' pin pointing to the south east corner. You are far from Earth, but you live in an area that benefits from the 80s power fantasy of "Being Economically and Socially Stable". It's a little place called Ultramar. Just a few planets, but it's quiet, peaceful, serene.

That is until you start getting disturbing messages from probes you've been sending out beyond the Eastern Fringe of the galaxy. Into that empty void where only darkness lies. But these probes, they've been picking up signals that show there is something else out there. Then, after a few seconds, these probes cut out communication and are never heard from again. 

"Meh," you shrug. "Galaxy's a big place. Many mysteries that never get solved. Space beyond the galaxy is even bigger. Loads of unknowns. No biggie."

But, in time, frontier bases on the Easter Fringe start falling out of contact with you. They're not liking your socials and they've stopped posting altogether. 

"Meh," you shrug. "Our internet runs on a complex system of interlinked psychic mutants that really shouldn't work at all. Everyone has trouble with their local mutant's connection at some point or the other. No biggie"

And then news reaches you of the backwater outpost of Tyran; population: 400 odd tech nerds and their accompanying soldiers and secretaries. It's gone. Reduced to a barren rock. Poor nerds.

"Meh," you shrug. "In the 41st millenium, there is only war. Shit happens. No biggie."

Then your internet goes out. 

"Holy Fuck!" you scream. "This is the Worst Thing Ever! Big biggie indeed!!!!"

Because those psychic mutants on which your galactic internet is based? They've all gone super weird and are raving about how The Great Devourer is coming and everyone's going to get eaten. And you try logging on again and yep, the gurgly ringtone of your dialup sure does make you instinctively feel like a single, galaxy sized mind, vast and unsympathetic, is about to swallow your world up for lunch.

All the local edge-lord fringe groups; your libertarians and your tankies and your liberal democrats, they're all suddenly revealing themselves to have more arms than they'd previously been letting on. And suddenly you notice that they're all bald. I mean, intellectually, you knew lots of them had shaven heads or wore bad toupees, but now you realise they're all bald. And they're also blowing up local infrastructure, launching coups, hanging people in the street; all the sort of stuff they've been saying for years they wanted to do but never actually got round to. 

To make everything worse, there's fuck tons of pollen in the air which is wreaking havoc with your allergies and all the plants are going bug-fuck batshit overgrowing all over the place. 

And that's when the coconuts start falling out of the sky. Thousands of the things, burning up as they fall, crashing into the ground and cracking open and releasing the things inside them.

Imagine if H R Giger had been asked to design some cute, colourful creatures for a Saturday morning cartoon. They're cute, they're colourful, they're often chubby in a huggable kind of way. They're also phallic and yonic and covered in teeth and spikes.

And these things start eating everything. Well, everything organic. Plants, people, pets, everything gets torn apart and swallowed. There are big things that eat folks whole. There are smaller things that eat folks in chunks. There are worm things that make sure the crumbs of folk aren't missed. 

The local edge-lords have found themselves loads of matching purple robes from the local Cloth World store and are chanting while they march into the gigantic shellfish that seem to be what these things use as space ships. It looks like they're happy about it. The oppressive, all encompassing psychic mind that has enveloped everyone and everything communicates without words straight into your skull that those people will willingly lower themselves into acid vats so that their biomass and genetic material can be collected and added to The Whole.

Because that's what's happening here. A hive mind of space locusts are stripping your planet for parts. All the creatures attacking you have been built from scratch from big biomass pools, specially designed to tear your pitiful life apart in a simple act of natural consumption. Space nature, red in tooth and claw.

"Ah," you think. "This must be what stripped Tyran bear. We should name these things after Tyran. Let's call them Tyranids."

Then you look down and say "Shit! Someone's pinched my denim trousers right off my legs!"

Then you get eaten by genestealers.

So, let's return to hormagaunts. 

These happy little chappies are part of the swarm of things that eats organic matter so the biomass can be carried back to the shellships to make more things.

Each of these things has been designed by the hive mind to fulfil some role in the great consumption. People say the Tyranids evolve, but that's not true. They develop their organic technology based on new needs and biological input, but all of the Tyranid space bugs were designed and pulled from a living biological 3D printer.

And hormagaunts were designed to jump! That's their whole thing! So cute! 

Or rather, leap, if we're being pedantic. It's like that "Lions can jump 30 feet" thing, or however far it was. They don't jump higher than giraffes. Tyranid air supremacy comes in other forms. 

Though, I've just checked my 2nd ed codex. 3" high! that's not nothing! And the leap is 6" in length! that's added (in a single burst, not spread out) to the 12" charge OR RUN basic speed!! (That distinction is meaningless unless you played the game, I'd just forgotten that this bonus applied to run moves as well as charges. Maybe I'm remembering some later rules?) When most people can only move 4" normally with a charge/run of 8", moving 18" is pretty badass. Particularly when you can speed over 3" high obstacles without slowing.

I was going to get pictures to show the development of the models over time and illustrate how the models love to fall over, but this lore shizzle took longer than expected! I think I'll leave this here for now!

I wanna talk about warhammer 40k. Someone ask me a question for me to ramble worthless opinions about.

[klmt1]

im flossing again. feels good

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[dirt-str1der]

Its actually because he doesnt know how to iron his clothes but i like that idea too

[racke7]

Got the results of the MRI.

No signs of anything bad.

Hmm...

[screampied]

☆ cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, dad bod, mating press, protected -> unprotected, size kink, bręeding, praise, mdni.

it’s something hot about how husband! nanami just isn’t aware of how big he really is.

he’s insanely thick - easily stretching you with only just a few vast inches inviting its way in between your slippery entrance. the rubbery tip of the condom nearly snags against your gripping insides as he moves, hovering his soft weight above you. heavy, rushed pants of breath drag out from each lung as he looks down at you lovingly. just a mere glimpse of you, and he’s already ready to propose to you all over again.

“f.. fuck, sweetheart. hold on t’ me.” he’d grunt with two beefy arms held against either side of you.

curled twines of blond hair paint a nice bushy portion of his chest like a canvas. it starts near his neck before trailing further down toward his plump abdomen. nanami’s tucking his head into the crook of your shoulder, silently gasping at each veiny inch that disappears inside. “k- kento,” you moan, one of your legs hooking around his wide snapping waist. he’s hesitant before his hands pull your legs way up to your chest. “mmp- don’t stop, baby.”

“hah- promise,” he groans through clenched teeth, his jaw locking by the second. the stretch he creates was so good that it’s got nanami falling right into your chest. his body was practically akin to a pillow, and he’s squishing himself on top of you before your cunt squeezes around him. fuck- fuck- fuck- that same word chants in his empty brain, nearly slipping out a hoarse whimper at how slick you coated the entirety of his cock. “c’mon, sweetheart. open for me like ‘y always do. gooood, biiiig stretch for kento.”

but as he’s gradually bucking his unsteady hips into you while gently placing a hand on top of your tummy, the two of you are met with a loud abrupt ‘snaaap!’ sound, and nanami pauses.

literally - the condom pitifully snaps apart, ignoring gravity as the now ruined rubber tightens around his shaft. nanami’s panting in your neck as his entire body quivers over you before he mumbles out a raspy, “o.. oh.. shit.”

it’s rare for him to swear, but at that particular moment, you throbbed, impatiently chewing on the skin that lived on your bottom lip.

your bare heel rubs soothing circles around his tense back muscles as you suddenly meet his lustful gaze.

his eyes - they’re shining almost. the more you peer into his fawn, almond eyes, the more you got lost in his gentle, ardent stare.

“i- it’s okay,” you’d breathlessly mumble, feeling his dick retreat its way out of your sopping pussy. it’s a loud, sobbing ‘pshs’ sound that slops from your vocal pussy before you shakily whimper, “go raw, ken.”

“hah- dirty girl,” he’d groan, pressing three wet open-mouthed kisses against your temple. in immediate response, your body shudders underneath him as you hear as you feel him starting to shuffle.

with a single veiny hand, nanami snatches the snugly-fit condom off of his length before tossing it in the nearby trash bin. “ ‘m not sure if i’d last long…my lo- oh fuuuck.”

nanami’s dead silent.

shallow, shaky breath falls from his rose-colored lips as the v-shaped head of his blushing cock lightly taps against your slobbery cunt.

you’re so soaked, abundantly pouring from all sides as your legs remain prettily spread and folded. nanami himself couldn’t help but stare, openly gawking as he’s slowly creating a nasty full thrust.

just one-

a single thrust that’s making you both fall against each other at once. he’s laid right over your body, being careful not to crush you as he grunts at the occasional clenches of your cunt.

the best way to describe nanami was like a teddy bear, so soft ‘n round from all angles. with him having you in mating press, you’re feeling all of his weight plummet down onto you, each pound of his cock becoming deeper within every swallowing inch. it’s got you speechless, moaning continuously as a few strands of his chest hair collide against your skin.

“mmpf- s.. so big, ‘ken,” you’d moan, twisting your toes in anticipation at the raw friction.

he’s so big - even bigger without the rubber it seemed, and you gasped once you felt his soft foreskin slide its way inside. truth be told though, you’d never get used to his size no matter how many times he’s stuffed you full. your gummy convulsing walls merrily greeted nanami’s shaft as your arms wrapped around his rounded belly. “ugh- there, right fuckin’ thereee.”

“god- woman, you’re just.. huuh- askin’ for another baby,” nanami grumbles, blond brows creasing together as he tenderly rubs a wide palm in a circle around your tummy.

his dick’s thoroughly massaging through you perfectly, and he’s sucking his teeth at the natural feeling. your slickness coats him so good, and he’s still got you in the lewdest mating press with your knees shoved against your chest. “ ‘s that what you want, princess?” and as he speaks, his voice lowers, feeling your tummy anxiously tuck inward. “you’d look so pretty again all plump.”

with a look of meek, you cup his face, gently stroking a thumb over the crack of his parted, pouty lips. “mhm-” you’d nod, holding in a gasp once he presents your pussy with one vigorous thrust.

it’s sharp- and you whimper at how his cockhead slammed itself deep against your clit. as your thighs frantically shook, nanami holds them up before playfully tilting his head at your response.

“mhm?” he repeats your little mumble, a hiss nearly slipping through his clenched teeth as he pulls out before sloppily pulling back in.

the slimy squelches that followed were just the definition of wet. each dramatic-sounding squelch that yelped out between your legs had nanami on the verge of shooting blanks right then and there. not just there and there but inside you, too.

as dewdrops of sweat dribble from all sides of his head, nanami presses a sticky wet kiss against the crevice of your mouth. “use those pretty words, i wanna.. wanna hear my sloppy wife talk to me nice.”

“k— kentooo, please,” you’d whimper, writhing underneath his soft body. he’s pressed up against you, practically suffocating your body with his huggable warmth. each barreling inch he spent inside you had you drooling from the inside of your mouth. nanami hums, sneaking a kiss on your damp lips before feeling you claw a hand down his chiseled back. “hah- cum inside. f- fuck me.”

exactly at your sweet pleading words, you felt his dick throb inside of you. it’s more of a sporadic twitch, and it makes you let off a cute ‘ooooh!’

nanami slumps his head in between your sore jiggling breasts, sliding a tongue down the crack of your chest before groaning. “f.. fuck, when you ask me like that, can’t r- resist, honey,” and his voice dripped with such sensuous desire. nanami’s shaft greedily kisses its way against your pearled clit before his entire body erupts into vicious shakes.

he knew he wouldn’t last long at all - especially raw because once he’s starting to swell from the very tip, he’s gutturally groaning right between your tits. gluey golden strands of hair tickled against you as he’s cumming hard, whimpering into your chest.

nanami’s entire body quakes violently, and his thrusts switch from rhythmic to pathetically sloppy within seconds..

even still, you’re folded in such a pretty way, taking each slobbery drop that fills into your cunt deeply, and you moaned once his dripping tongue glides a path down toward your sensitive nipples. “mmph-” he’d grunt, muffling himself as he’s still dumping such a thick load.

nanami guides a hand down between your legs, smearing the back of his wedding ring against your flooding pussy. with a loud pop! your nipple wetly plops out between his lips and he holds still.

“take it, sweetheart. ‘s all for you,” nanami lowly whispers against your clammy chest, his heavy eyelids flapping shut. your warmth - it’s so balmy inside, and he’s already shuddering once his leaky tip sprinkles the final remnants of cum deep into your womb. it leaves a beautiful dry taste in his mouth, and nanami uses a thumb to spread a flap of your folds apart. “she’s s- so pretty.”

“f- fuck..” you’d suck in a airy moan, panting at the pitching faint spurts of wetness that echoes through your ears. gooey, thin torrents of cum run down the opening of your cunt as he pulls out, and you gasp once nanami suddenly flips you over.

now - you’re laid on your chest with your hips raised, ass arched up, and your neck most certainly raised.

“hah- forgive…me,” nanami throatily murmurs, using the back of his wedding ring once more to slither down your cream-coated pussy. his tone, it’s far lower this time—raspy with a bit of a smoky airiness to it.

oh- you were just an entire mess. he’s already licking his lips as he takes in the beauty of his wife’s backside, immediately feeling his sensitive dick twitch at the coarse, arching sight.

the way his cum just messily cascades down between your syrupy slit, splattering onto the silk white sheets in the process - he wanted more..

nanami hungrily rolls out his tongue before licking your pussy from top to bottom—shamelessly relishing in his bittersweet taste that soaks against his sizzling buds. the viscous mess glitters a sheeny filthy coat onto his pursed lips before he huffs, sitting back up.

with a soft little tap, you whine, feeling the familiar upturned curve of nanami’s hardened tip smack against your cum-slobbering entrance again and again..

“arch a bit more for me. atta girl, mhm- let’s.. hah- aim for triplets this time, my love..”

[nanaslutt]

nanami overstimulating himself to make sure his pretty gf gets off >.<

minors and ageless blogs dni

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

telling nanami “don’t stop” when he’s fucking you because youre sooo close, but he’s at his limit. he tries to relax his kegels so he lasts longer but he can’t help it, it feels too good and you’re so tight around him as you’re working up to your orgasm he can’t help but cum inside you

he keeps fucking you though his orgasm, teeth gritted and eyes rolling back in his head. all he wants to do is freeze up and let his body jerk and flex and he fills you up, but he can’t just leave you unsatisfied. it’s taking everything in him not to stop thrusting, his groans are so loud in your ears.

he abruptly pulls you on top of him and bounces you in his lap, his legs are shaking from overstimulation but he needs you to get there. “use me, make yourself come on me sweetheart.” his words are rushed and breathy, but he manages to get them out. you place your hands on his chest and slow your bouncing, feeling his come start to drip out of you.

“but you already came, ken.” you reason, your voice just as ruined as his as he helps you rock your hips back and forth on his pelvis. his cock is twitching, and his abs are spamming from overstimulation. every atom in his body is telling him to stop fucking you because it’s too much, it feels too good it hurts, but he can’t leave you hanging.

“i know, finish yourself off. don’t worry about me, I can take it.” and take it he does. you start bouncing on his lap and nanami has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from crying out. his tip is so sensitive and you keep thrusting it right against your sweet spot, it’s making him dizzy.

nananmi’s thighs are pressed together to tight, his legs are nearly crossing as his body tries to excape from the painful pleasure, but he grunts and breaths through it. he’s already hard again, forced to get up from your warm walls fucking him and sucking him in. it doesn’t help that you’re so much wetter from his orgasm now, it’s so fucking much tears well in his eyes.

“kento, kento.” you cry, and nanami nods, biting his lip as he forces his eyes open to find your clit with his thumb. he rubs quick, sloppy circles against the little bud, his body shaking and jerking when he feels your walls tighten around him. “come, come honey, f-fuck.” he doesn’t curse a lot during sex, but this called for it.

the second he feels you orgasm around him, his balls draw up and he’s cumming too. his back arches and he wraps his arms around you, keeping you flush against him and still while he fills you up. his eyes are crossed and he swears he’s seeing stars behind his eyes from his hard he’s cumming.

“don’t move.” he grunts in your ear, his sensitive cock twitching with his aftershocks against your walls. if you moved again he would pass out, his tip is probably so red it’s going to ache when he pulls it out of you. “don’t move until… until i tell you to.” he grunts out, biting his lip as he feels his cum overflow from your pussy and drip down his dick.

[webism]

gojo loves your thighs a little too much.

it gets to be a nuisance when you're so pent up and you just want him to fuck you, fill you out, but he's so preoccupied with sliding his thick cock between your thighs that he's sending himself mindless on top of you.

"satoru," you have to whine, "just fuck me."

"but your thighs feel so goooood, baby," he's a mess, squeezing your thighs together to almost emulate the feeling of being balls deep inside of your cunt. your skin is sticky with sweat and precum and your boyfriend is rutting against you like your insides aren't on offer. "please can i cum like this? i'll get hard again so quick and fuck you nice and deep, i promise."

and your dork of a boyfriend extends his pinky finger out to you in promise. you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you link your pinky with his and watch as he starts frantically fucking your thighs. the prettiest of moans rolling from his lips and into the sex-heavy air around you.

when he cums, it's loud and raw and with stuttering hips and you don't know how but you swear you feel a slight coil in your stomach too. his pleasure is your pleasure, you guess. he's releasing himself all over your thighs and immediately forcing them apart so he can clean you up himself with his tongue. sucking the fat of your thighs into his mouth, biting down and rolling his tongue over the indentations left behind by his teeth...

and then, a sweet kiss to your pussy. "you're next."

what a dork.

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

To Be Wooed

I blacked out and wrote this. This is so silly to me.

Enjoy!

Look Danny didn't mean to kill the Joker it was an honest mistake, he was still recovering from escaping the GIW and whatever they had used on him had still been in effect when he honest to Ancients ran into the fake clown.

Of course it doesn't look like an accident with how he left the Joker

But it was!

Really it really was!

Whatever the GIW did was out of his system, but that still left a very dead and coreless Joker.

Yeah...apparently Joker had a core, but not anymore because he ate it like it was pop rock candy, if the weird cousin spicy version of it. He still feels like he has some of it stuck in his teeth.

Anyways! Not the point!

Joker! Very dead at his feet, what is he supposed to do-

THUMP

Oh Ancients he's going to die again that's the Red Hood!

"Uh...I can explain, well not really. But it was an accident! I promise and-"

"You killed him?"

"I'm really sorry? He bumped into me, it was an accident I swear!"

"Go on a date with me."

WHa-what?! Did he just hear correctly why would he ask him out out of nowhere it made no sense and..oh.

Red Hood's been touched by Death not like him but enough to count, and enough to have some ghostly instincts.

Okay ghostly courting he can do that, he totally can, no sweat!

Shit who is he kidding he may have the instincts but he was never actually taught how he's supposed to use them or anything.

Well he's always been good at making it up as he goes, and at least his instincts will help push him in the right direction.

So he should just do what feels natural to him.

"Yes I'll go out with you. If I were to make jewelry and knives out of his bones would you accept them?"

"...For me to wear and use. Yes."

~

Danny freaking out about just killing and kinda eating someone: I'm in so much trouble!

Jason behind him fixing his appearance: "Well hello there handsome come by here often?"

~

Joker bumping into Danny: "ahAHA you will make a good experiment!"

Danny is high as a kite and getting the munchies: "I didn't know I could order food with my mind!"

Joker: "Whut-"

~

Jason seeing Danny absolutely wrecking Jokers shit: *Ghost Instincts Activated*

~

Jason falling fast for Danny without even knowing his name: "Can I pretty please kiss you?"

Danny realizing what's going on but still being clueless: "Does that mean you will accept these gifts made from Jokers bones?"

Jason's Ghost Instincts rising to a fever pitch: "I'm going to woo the fuck out of ya and then we'll get married then we'll fu-"

~

Danny's Ghostly Instincts being connected to his 'Protection' & Jason's to his 'Revenge' showing these kind of specific gestures towards them is incredibly romantic.

~

Jason and Danny's relationship basically:

~

~

~

#They're like Morticia & Gomez absolutely smitten for each other

#Jason brings a crying & beaten up GIW who has been stalking Danny

#Danny almost swooned

#They start flirting with each other while standing on top of the GIW dude

#Jason's goons are happy that their boss found 'The One' apparently but can they please stop eyefucking each other while they're there and-

~

Just an Idea

[housederiva]

Here's every version of the letter the Inquisitor gets from their LI plus Varric (which didn't make me cry at all)

If your Inky didn't romance anyone:

Inquisitor, Greetings from miserable, rainy Minrathous! (Don't tell Dorian I called it that.) The rotten weather here is making me nostalgic for Skyhold. The mountains were freezing, but at least the air didn't smell like wet garbage. We'll have to get in another game of Wicked Grace, soon. Harding picked up the trail again. I'd tell you not to worry, but I know how useless that is. Instead, I'll just say: I've got a great team on this. Neve could stare down the Maker, and wait until you meet Rook. He's/She's/They're a natural: Smart, resourceful, completely unpredictable. You'd like him/her/them, as long as you don't try to beat him/her/them at cards. Chuckles'll never know what hit him. I'll write again once we have something solid for you. Drinks at the Hanged Man are on me when this is over. Take care of yourself. Varric

Blackwall:

My love, You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side. Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations. Yours always, Thom

Cassandra:

My love, We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe. The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can. The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray. Yours, Cassandra

Cullen:

The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences chewed to read. I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible. I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you are all right. You are I've There's I wish I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life. The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my - I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this - Whatever you need of me, I am yours. Cullen

Dorian:

Amatus, I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear. I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you. I will find you soon. Yours, Dorian

Iron Bull

Hey, Kadan, Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!) I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian. Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to just be what I want to be. And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you. So come back safe. Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.

Josephine:

My Dearest Lord/Lady, I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all. The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together. There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here. When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes. Always yours, Josephine Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.

Sera:

(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.) Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.") - North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker. - Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know. - We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow. - So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls! - We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.) - Still thinking of you sideways. - Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.) - The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out. - Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me. - I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why. - Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.) - You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on. (The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.) New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)

Solas:

Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words. My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary. I cannot ask your forgiveness, but I hope you come to understand. That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin... you do not know how close I came to breaking. I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas... as I wanted. I regret the pain I caused you. What I feel for you will never change. The note is unsigned, but the handwriting is Solas'.