#i was so pumped drawing this oh my god i was like in the zone they were so much fun like oh my god i just huhgh????? huhfh?? the designs

[mabaki]

GW2CC Revenge for @rosewoodroad! Finally an excuse to draw these badass Asuras LMAO

[buckyalpine]

Imagine Bucky always sees you doodling away in a little notebook you bring for meetings. You obviously take diligent notes but every so often you'll zone out, fully focused on a mindless drawing with you brows pinched together. Sometimes your tongue pokes out and Bucky finds it utterly adorable, especially when you think no one notices.

He's never actually seen what you draw in there. He assumes your book is filled with tiny flowers or smiley faces, maybe a few squiggles of nothing at all.

You had forgotten to take your book with you, running off for a hot bath after listening to Tony drone on about missions and the importance of updated technology. Bucky noticed the small pink book, smiling at the tiny daisies that decorated the front; your notebook was as adorable as you. He grabbed it along with his own things, making his way to your room to drop it off.

The book slipped onto the floor, landing open; he didn't think much of it, hardly scanning the pages as he picked it up.

Then he stopped.

He saw the first drawing.

Then another drawing catches his eye.

It couldn't be.

Then he saw that one.

His jeans suddenly become unbearably uncomfortable, the tightness almost painful. His cock is rock hard and he has no way of hiding it, swallowing thickly as he scans the page.

Maybe this wasn't your book.

He flips to the front and your name is right there with little hearts dotted all around it.

Fuck.

-

You dried your hair off and threw on some comfy clothes, foregoing a bra since you were going to relax in bed anyway. You noticed you'd forgotten your book, running over to the conference room before it fell into the wrong hands.

it wasn't there.

You huffed, walking back to your room, hoping maybe it was just misplaced instead of actually lost, not noticing someone walking in and clicking the lock shut.

"Looking for something?" Bucky casually walked into your room while you yelped, breathing out a sigh when you saw who it was.

"Hey Buck. Yeah, I can't find my note book, have you seen it?" You fidgeted with your fingers, eyes growing wide when you saw it in his hand. "Oh thank God, you found it!-

You reached out for it only to have Bucky snatch his hand away, holding it in the air out of each, a smirk growing on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up hoping he hadn't seen what was inside, pouting when he shook his head at your feeble attempts to get your book.

"Bucky, give it back!"

"What do you use this book for anyway?" He cocked his head while you squirmed, not noticing he'd backed you against the wall of your room, "Hm?"

"N-notes.." You mumbled while he hummed, not even bothering to hide the hardness between his legs. You could smell his cologne and something that was distinctly him with how close he was.

"Doll... is there something you want to tell me" His husky voice whispered in your ear sending shivers down your spine.

"N-no" you squeak out, absolutely mortified over what he saw, gasping when his flesh hand came to wrap around your throat.

"I think I saw something like this" He nipped your ear lobe, giving your neck a gentle squeeze, his metal hand coming down to toy with the waistband of your shorts before slipping in. You let out a breathless moan as his cold fingers teased your folds, rubbing your wetness around.

"Was that my hand you were drawing sweets? hm? all covered in those pretty juices? Is that what you want baby? You want my metal hand to be covered in your cream, my fingers shoved up this little pussy?"

"Please Bucky" You whined, practically grinding yourself onto his hand while he let out a dark chuckle, pushing two fingers deep into your pussy. You nearly buckled over, his arm holding you up as he started to pump in and out, soaking his hand.

"Shhh, You're not as innocent as you look, are you Bambi. Hmm, which drawing was that... it looked a little like.." He continued to tease you, curling and fucking you with his fingers while you shamelessly sobbed out of pleasure, whining when he pulled them out. "Just like this?"

Bucky smirked, letting your slick coat his fingers, strings of arousal clinging between each digit. He shoved them in his mouth, groaning a your taste, licking them clean before grabbing you and tossing you onto his bed, pulling his sweats down just enough to stroke his cock.

"Let's see if I can help inspire some other drawings"

[loserboysandlithium]

Cashmere and Cigarettes (SteddiexReader) Part Three:

⚠️explicit sexual content. Minors DNI⚠️

Part One, Part Two

You lean down giving Steve a little bite on his thigh making him groan.

Steve lifts his head, eyes zoning in on Eddie as he takes him in his mouth once more. You crawl up to him kissing his lips softly before moving to his neck.

“Are you good, baby?” you whisper in his ear, running your hand along his chest.

“So fucking good.” Steve mumbles drunkenly, his eyelids hanging low, his hair wildly disheveled.

A filthy moan pours from his lips as his head falls heavily into the pillow.

“Holy shit..” Steve chuckles lustfully, lifting his head again, dropping his gaze to Eddie down below.

“You like that, Steve?” you hum, “He looks pretty hot sucking your dick, doesn’t he?”

“H-he looks hot. So hot.” Steve mumbles, making you smile. He’s in heaven.

You begin planting small kisses down his chest, slowly making your way back down.

Eddie pops off, licking down the side of Steve’s member instead. You follow suit, taking the other side, both of you coating his thick cock in your saliva.

“Oh my fucking god..” Steve pants.

Your tongues tangle together as you both swirl and flick, pulling out noises from Steve you’ve never heard before. Every breathy moan and whimper pushes you to draw more from him.

You wrap your hand around Steve’s base, pumping quickly as you allow Eddie to take Steve back in his mouth.

“Does that feel good, baby?” you purr, glancing at Steve as you stroke Eddie’s curls with your other hand. His lips wrap tightly around Steve’s cock, sucking and slurping.

“I… mhmm.. s-so good… G-gonna cum. I’m gonna cum..” he whimpers. You’ve never seen him so needy, the want in his voice making you soaked.

“You wanna cum in my mouth, Harrington?” Eddie burns, popping off, making Steve squirm beneath him.

“Fuck…” Steve whimpers again.

“Tell me.” Eddie demands.

“Wanna cum in your mouth…” Steve mumbles drunkenly. Eddie smirks before resuming his position.

“E-Eddie.. Baby, gonna cum.” Steve grunts as you twist your wrist up and down the bottom half of his cock. Eddie takes him deep in his throat, sucking back to the tip. Again and again as Steve’s hips jolt upward.

“Cum for him, baby.” you encourage, removing your hand, leaning up to kiss Steve’s cheek softly. Your eyes remain glued to Eddie working him below. Eddie moans onto Steve’s cock and his grip tightens on Eddie’s curls pressing down on his head as he releases his first spurt of cum. Eddie swallows around Steve’s cock, taking the first load in his throat.

“Sh-shit..” Steve stutters, as he continues filling Eddie’s mouth with his cum. Steve pants wildly as Eddie pulls off his cock, coming to the top of the bed to meet you. He takes one of his hands, gripping your jaw tightly. With the other he takes two fingers, parting your lips, forcing your mouth open.

You open wide as Eddie looms over you, spitting Steve’s release in your mouth.

“You two are gonna kill me.” Steve whines from beneath you. You swallow Steve’s cum happily, the act of Eddie spitting in your mouth unleashing a new kink you didn’t know existed.

******

“She feels so good, doesn’t she?” Steve pants, gripping your hair tight as he pushes down hard, causing you to gag loudly on his cock.

“So fuckin’ good.” Eddie moans as he pulls your hips back into him, his long cock reaching incredibly deep, making you wince slightly.

Then he begins to thrust mercilessly. Your ass bounces against him wildly, skin slapping skin, his hips slamming into you. You try to cry out but it’s muffled around Steve’s cock.

You’ve already came twice from his dick, now Eddie was just having fun. Doing his best to ruin you entirely.

Eddie’s thrusts are so hard he’s basically fucking Steve with your mouth, your body rocking with every roll of his hips. He slaps your ass and plunges hard causing Steve to glide incredibly deep in your throat. You’re gagging, tears streaming down your cheeks as they both wreck you entirely.

“Baby? Are you- oh fuck…” Steve attempts to check on you but his pleasure overtakes his sense of anything else as he cums suddenly, spurt after spurt of warm cum rains into your throat, spilling out of the sides of your mouth.

“Swallow his cum, sweetheart. Every fucking drop.” Eddie growls as you try to follow his orders. “Give it back to her Steve, she wants it all, don’t you, baby?”

You look up at Steve with teary eyes and nod as he slowly pulls his dick from your mouth. He brings his thumb to your chin, gathering his cum, bringing it back to your lips. You suck on his thumb, cleaning him of his release.

“I love you… fuck, I love you.” Steve mumbles, leaning down and kissing your lips.

You return the sentiment, still moaning as Eddie rocks into you slowly from behind. You arch your back and Steve moves to the side watching as Eddie has his way with you.

“Fuck!” you scream as Eddie surprises you with a thrust so deep your vision blurs momentarily. Your face falls to the mattress, fingers grasping at the sheets as he fucks into you. “Harder! H-Harder Eddie!” you beg and he laughs wickedly.

“Handcuffs, Steve.” Eddie orders as he reaches out, bringing your wrists behind your back, your head lays against the mattress watching as Steve grabs the cuffs. He looks at you for approval and you nod, feeling the soft sheets rub against your cheek.

You feel the chill of the metal, followed by a pinch as he clicks the cuffs on tightly.

Eddie’s strong hand lands on your ass again making you yelp. He grips the chain of the handcuffs using them as leverage to drive into you.

“Pretty fucking pussy… you’re a lucky guy, Stevie.” Eddie moans as he quickens his pace. “Can I cum inside her? Wanna cum inside her, Steve.” Eddie breathes, gliding in and out of your pussy at an insane pace.

Steve moves closer to him, locking their lips together as he gives him permission to fill you. You can hear the sounds of the two of them kissing, Eddie never missing a beat as he ruts into you. Your mouth hangs open, drool seeping from the corner of your lips as your eyes roll into your head.

You’re a mess, completely fucked out, no cries left, only small whimpers as Eddie fucks you into the mattress. The boys kiss sloppily, little moans being transferred between the two of them as Eddie plunges into you again and again.

“Cum inside me, Eddie. W-wanna feel you. All of you.” you choke out.

“Gonna cum for you, sweetheart. Fuck you full of my cum.” he groans as you feel his hands on your hips again. He tosses his head back as he empties himself inside of you, his warm cum coating your walls.

You fall to the bed, your body trembling all over, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel a shift on the mattress and open your eyes to see Steve laying beside you, a soft smile on his lips. He reaches for you, pulling you into his arms, lips searching for yours. You kiss him tenderly, feeling the same warmth he always provides. “I’m still cuffed, baby.” you smile against his lips making him chuckle.

“My little freak.” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

*********

ONE MONTH LATER

In a weird way Eddie had brought the two of you even closer. Trying new things, exploring each other’s body’s, finding all the things that brought both of you to your knees.

“Holy shit… Steve!” you scream as your thighs clamp down around his face, your orgasm rushing over you as he moans into your warmth.

He slowly removes his thumb from your ass, grinning up at you.

“So, that’s a yes?” he chuckles, his face glistening with your arousal.

“Yes.. mhmm.. fuck” you breath shakily, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

Steve grins wildy, crawling on top of you, his tongue immediately parting your lips.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me, Steve.” you pant into your kiss.

“I love you so much, angel.” Steve whispers as you feel his weight on top of you.

“I love you more.”

The endddd 🖤🖤🖤🖤 I hope you enjoyed. 🤭

Tag list: @gracieluvthemoon @paleidiot @munsonsblunt @micheledawn1975 @heartbreak-sandwich @manda-panda-monium

[bonesandthebees]

BEE IM SO EXCITED LETS GO OKAY GLASS FIRST WOOO THIS IS ALSO GREAT BECAUSE IM GETTING MY HAIR DONE RN AND NEEDED SOMETHING TO DO

ahhh thats the palace hes there in there in that yep

he might as well be dead i mean the pythia that he once knew is dead

flashback wooooo

your descriptions are alwasy SOOOOO

GOOD LIKE IDK THEY JUST AHHHHH

omg theyre at nikis right probably

“my pythia” why dont you go crawl up you own a— anyways. this is a pg zone (i just dont curse)

i want to slap him around a bit, just a tiny bit just like hang him from the ceiling and wack him like he’s a piñata at a five year olds birthday

THEY ARE AT NIKIS

TATTOO

HES DOING IT ISIRJSF ANDOQLFNWIF

tommy is so baby brother

NOTNIN THE PHYSICAL SENSE *spins around very quickly like a tornado*

WHO HE IS OH MY GOD BEE

why is schlatt

i think schlatt would look nice with a black eue it would bring out how much kf a d— anyqays

TAKE THAT SCHLATT

i need more people to draw this tattoo because every singly one is so ahhhhh like i have no clue how this is supposed to look bjt every design peiple make makes sense and i need more im so curious to see how people see

i love the way wilbur thinks i want to take his brain and poke around in it like its so intriguing

also like idk as a person feeling your pulse is always so… intimate? i do it a lot, like just feeling my pulse reminding myself that im human, we all have a pulse. idk its comforting in a way just feeling the way the blood pumps through your body regardless of the world, that youre alive no matter what as long as that blood keeps pumping. like even when everything feels out of place, youre still human.

sorry anyways

anywho thats why hes fiddling with the cuff then hes nervous aboht them seeing

UGH HES SO ANNOYING I WANT TO CHUCK HIM ONTO LIKE I-5 OR SOMETHING

im gonna send a prayer your way schlatt.

GO WILBUR GO

god hes so idk his brain man and the way you write and god i love this fic so much

WHY DOESNT IT FEEL LIKE MINE AHEOHEIFJWO SO WOROWKK OK DA P WAS HEQID

im cool and chill

the vessel.

yep.

cool.

thats cool.

HES WILBUR

i just like god this fic man

ah yes tommys tattoo

just saying on… july 28th i said it was from wilburs murder attempt!! im so smart sometimes

HE DOENST WANT TO BE EMPTY AGAIN WHAT RHE FUEFUVJ

anyways im so normal aboht this fic

oh me too wil lets fist bump over our shared fear of failure and disappointment

me when he realizes that they werent empty he jsut didnt know they were allowed to not be empty

THEYRW FMAKILTLY OU YK EGOD THEY MEHM

BROTHERISHD OH MY GODHD I LOVE RJEM

BOOM AH

GUNSHOTS AH

HIS UBER DRIVER IS HERE YAY!!!!

TOMMY!!!!!!

HIS HROTHERUWIDHS IM NEVER GOING TO HE OKAY WHEN THEY SAY THAT

i loveddddd the way you formatted it it was super neat and idk im just a sucker for interesting formats of swifching between past and present and like idk yeah it was cool

AND NOW OFF TO READ THE ROYALTY AU!!!

- 🪿

hi goose this is a few days old now but finally getting around to answering this!

aaa thank you I'm so glad you like my descriptions :D it was definitely a bit tough getting back into the glass writing groove with the style I use for the descriptions and stuff so I'm glad it turned out ok

"my pythia" made my skin crawl to write

YEAHHH TATTOO TIME. every single time I see fanart of the tattoo I freak out (/pos) so much because all the interpretations are SO cool. I love seeing what people come up with because I myself have no artistic ability, I can only describe what's in my head through words, so when people are able to actually put that into art form it just makes me so happy

yes exactly that's why I wanted it on his pulse!! I wanted it to sit right over the reminder that he's human! that he has blood pumping through his veins! everyone has that blood and that heartbeat and I wanted the tattoo to sit right above that both because of the connection to his heartbeat, but also because it's the place other people can feel your pulse. it's the connection point almost between your pulse and others, if that makes sense.

(random fun fact, I can't feel my own pulse on my wrist. doctors and nurses can't get a pulse from my wrist either. like there have been many times I've gone to the doctor and the nurse has tried to take my pulse and they frown and readjust their hand and then they try the other wrist and no matter what it doesn't work and I'm just sitting there. the only place you can get a pulse off of me besides straight up feeling my heartbeat is on my carotid artery on my throat)

aa thank you I had a lot of fun describing wilbur's thought processes in this chapter, especially with the alternating format

you were RIGHT about the vine tattoo you got it and it was so funny I had to just not say shit but i was like yup, several people have already figured it out :)

HIS UBER DRIVER IS HEREEEEE

aaa I'm so glad you enjoyed!! I had so much fun with the format of this chapter. I plotted it out a bit before my trip, and I specifically wanted to finish ch 25 before my trip because I knew ch 26 was going to be the one I'd most want to write after I got back. I needed a REALLY good exciting chapter to come back to and the alternating format was going to be the way I sucked myself back into the story after being out of that headspace for 3 weeks straight, and it worked. it was just so cinematic in my head y'know? I can perfectly picture the flipping between past and present with like different color grading and lighting and music and all that

[brummiereader]

Eeek!! Been desperate to read this all day 😍!

Right, he has to be bloody drugging her right? I don't know why but the whole first paragraph has me feeling so claustrophobic and uncomfortable. I'm claustrophobic anyways but the way you described her feeling like her leg were gonna give in and the overall exhaustion she was feeling honestly made me feel a little sick myself 😳. Like sleep paralysis, don't know if you've ever experienced that but the moment you realise you're actually awake but can't move and you try to ...👆that's how that made me feel.

"The physical contact with the leather of his gloves had the immediate effect to make you relax"...this was written for me right?? If it wasn't it doesn't matter, I'm believing it was 😂.

Oh my god, how long has she been stuck in that room that she's started to find comfort from him 😳? I gotta admitt I too felt a little comforted by the way you wrote about him holding her in his arms, telling her stories of his childhood. If it wasn't for the fact that she's his hostage you would think it's a beautiful loving thing to do. Shark you're already messing with my brain 😩.

Shark😳😳! This is so dark...i love it 😈!! You have used a stunning use of gestures to make us believe that what Arthur is doing is well...not that bad 😬, almost convincing us into believing that these moments between are genuine and affectionate and not one sided. I'm starting to get quite fond of Yandere!Arthur 😍😳.

"Something is wrong, that was what your instinct whispered to your ear" I really love how we keep hearing her inner thoughts, her gutt instincts. She knows something's off but with Arthur constantly showing her care and affection, she keeps doubting those natural instincts. ALWAYS go with you gutt instincts!

"Drink your nightly glass of milk and try to sleep hmm.” I have a feeling there's not just milk in there 🧐.

This whole paragraph when she finally comes around to realising what is happening to her is superbly written!! Shark your truly are an incredible write 😯. All the small details literally gave me goosebumps, the way she feels the coldness on the floor when her senses finally start come back, the smell of his lingering presence, her energy slowly returning, adrenaline rushing in...this whole scen had my heart pumping! He bloody drugged her!!

"The sketchy and dark lines were forming the shapes of a bunny, lying limp into the fangs-filled jaws of a creepy-looking wolf. You started crying again. And so did the bunny, for the milk had made the ink that composed the drawing run down the animal’s face in tar-black tears" Wow shark! What an incredible description of Arthur's relentless hold and possessiveness of Bunny. Like a wolf he has her in his mouth unwilling to part with his prey. It's terrifying, and the worse part is she's only just realised the gravity of the situation.

I particularly loved the part where you talk about Arthur zoning out while his brothers talked to him. It's something we all do so it's very easy as the reader to associate yourself with that feeling when reading that part. The only difference we don't have people locked up in our room, well I don't...😂.

“It’s not what ye think, love.” is he for real?? Not what you think 🤦‍♀️😂. The worse part of this is his all pumped up with cocaine, I fear for our Bunny. Things could talk a very dark turn.

She's rilled him up 😬. I really loved this part where you see her unleashing her anger as she makes him hear the reality of what he's done and simultaneously Arthur is slowly losing all self controll. You know he's about to snap at any moment 😬.

"He barked loudly with blood dripping from his mouth, only a few inches away from your face" the image of this has me terrified!! I don't think Arthur is your average wolf he's a hell hound...the devils beast 😳😳! Bunny must be absolutely petrified!

Bloody hell...he is a maniac! The part where he tells her what he could have been doing honestly had my jaw drop...like Artie you could have been a little less graphic, there's a lady in front of you 😂!

The way he almost trys to comfort himself telling her what they're going to do is very telling of how bad his current mental health is. He is fully convinced that what he has just done is normal. And of course she has to relent and play along with everything to survive 😩.

Shark what an incredible part to your series. I was honestly on the edge of my seat the whole entire time. Amazing work hun, I love this series so much! Wow what a read, I need a drink after this 😂 but not milk 😳. Thank you for sharing your amazing talent for writing, can't wait for more ❤️!

Hey Bunny pt. 2 || Yandere!Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: You try to escape. Arthur is clearly unhappy with that: don't you understand that you're made for each other?

Words: 5k

TW: Drugs use, unreliable narrator, unrequited love, graphic depictions of violence, blood, domestic violence, allusions to non-consensual sex, stalking, depiction of obsessive behavior, horror, psychological manipulation, — this is dark, experimental, and out of character.

Notes: Italicized+bold are quotes from the show said by Arthur.

PART 1. || Masterlist

How many days went by since Arthur Shelby brought you home?

Such information was impossible for you to tell, especially because of the throbbing headache that was still hammering your skull. What you knew though was that you could not help feeling exhausted and slightly ill. The sensation was quite hard to describe, but it mainly manifested itself with a general weakness; to the extent you had trouble standing for too long, on top of being the unlucky owner of a constant dizziness that left you disoriented. Gathering all your feeble strength, you tried to open the bedroom window for more air but nothing happened when you pulled its handle. You frowned, confused, but you hadn’t enough energy to insist nor to investigate further — your legs were threatening to give up at any moment. It was with drawling steps that you came back to bed, your flickering frame collapsing on the mattress. Then, you sunk your face into the pillow and whined.

“How’s me little Bunny doing today?”

You raised your face from the comfortable pillow at the sound of Arthur’s hoarse and low voice, looking at him above your shoulder. His tall silhouette was standing in front of the door, holding a plate: he came to bring your dinner. “I still feel exhausted, Arthur. It’s really unpleasant…” You replied with a little voice, for even speaking seemed to require too much effort. At this point, your fatigue was becoming a real nuisance — which was odd considering how full of energy you usually were. You rolled on the bed to lie on your back, your beautiful but so-tired eyes looking at the ceiling with tears dawning at their corner, “I don’t think it’s normal. Maybe we should call a doctor?” You suggested, bringing your trembling hands to your forehead to wipe the thin layer of sweat that was covering it. Arthur remained silent and stared at you for a little while, his steel blue eyes slightly squinted as if he was actively thinking about his answer. Finally, he let out a little sigh and walked to the bed, first putting the plate he had in his hands on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed. Once he did so, he gently grazed your cheek with his fingertips as if he had been afraid to break you with his simple touch. The physical contact with the leather of his gloves had the immediate effect to make you relax. Surprisingly enough, the infamous Arthur Shelby had been a real sweetheart with you these past few days. Indeed, the man was at your bedside, constantly spoiling you with care, good food, and company. The moments you appreciated the most were certainly when he held you in his long arms and fondled your hair, telling you about his favorite childhood memories or the many mischiefs he did with his little brothers. The more you talked, the more the emotional facet of Arthur you discovered, and the more your tiny soft spot for him grew. During this loving moment, you’d always end up dozing off, lulled by the warmth of his gravel voice. Such kindness definitely unsettled you though, when thinking about the Hell you’ve been through for months because of him. But when you thought about that it seemed too anchored in the past for you to really hate him. Moreover, people changed — or at least that was what you liked to believe.

“S’alright, love.”  He whispered in a tone so soft, so loving, that you could not help but offer him a tiny and genuine smile; which made the gangster’s heart flutter — he bit the inside of his cheek. Fuck, you were so cute, lying in his bed, depending on him. Arthur stopped his caresses only to lay down next to you. He uplifted his body with one arm to lean over your frame,  “The doctor came when ye were asleep eh. ‘Told me you caught a little something but it’s nothing serious. All ye need is rest and someone to take care of ye. Which is exactly what your Arthur does hmm.” He almost purred. The gangster had brought his face closer — so close that his nose was grazing your ear and his lips, hungry for you, were ghosting over your jaw.  A deep shiver ran down your body at the caress of his scorching breath against your freezing skin. Despite his care and the comfort he gave you these last few days, you still turned your head to the other side to deny him access to your mouth. It did not seem to bother him though.  His feverish sigh brushed the sensitive skin of your neck. “I brought ye dinner. It’s me Aunt who cooked it, yer going to like it. It’s yer favorite meal…”  He let his sentence hang for his lips and pressed a delicate kiss right on your throat— A surge of electricity crossed through your body and died between your legs, leaving you a bit confused. Your brows slightly furrowed in response as one of his calloused hands languidly ran down your ribs, right above the fabric of the shirt he had lent you, “Me clothes suit you well, y’know.” The sight of you wearing nothing but your lace panties and one of his far-too-large shirts gave his stomach butterflies. 

Something wasn’t coherent. How could a doctor came and diagnosed you without you even noticed it? Even asleep, you’d have heard something. 

“Arthur— please…” You called him, your weak little hands trying to gently push him away, “Can you— can you tell me what happened again? I’m trying so hard to remember but everything is foggy. I feel like my mind has erased everything of this awful party…”  Which was ultimately true. At your request, Arthur hummed and pulled his face back from your neck only to lock you in an intense stare, the proximity between you small enough for your noses to still touch. 

“Of course, love.” The fingers of his free hands stopped fondling your body and reached your face in order to trap your chin between his thumb and his index,  “Ye were partying at the Garrison when a bastard bothered you. Ye spent a bit of time with him outside, wearing light clothes.  The doc’ said it was prolly why you caught somethin’ eh.” Listening attentively, you swallowed the lump in your throat. Arthur was clingy, so clingy that it stirred conflicting feelings In you. A part of you tensed at the thought of this criminal you barely knew being so lovey-dovey with you, with his hands and lips roaming freely on your frail body. The other part, lost and tired, was looking for any kind of comfort it could find, and the comfort of his arms outmatched everything you had ever experienced. “At some point, I checked if everything was okay but I overheard your conversation and he wanted to bring ye home. I heard you yelling so… I beat the shit out of this cunt and brought ye here safe.”  

“You did?” Your voice was merely an exhausted meowing as you offered him another smile; He nodded in reply. Very timidly, you put your hand on the back of his head and pressed your forehead against his at the realization that he probably saved you from getting abused.

Something is wrong, that was what your instinct whispered to your ear.

Yet, your lonely heart was tamed by his softness. Could it be possible that you’ve misjudged him? Sure, what he did to Gaspard was unforgivable and he had sincerely creeped you out, but… Maybe he didn’t mean to do harm? After all, he protected you, so he could not be that bad right? Stuck in this suspended moment of utter tenderness, you observed the very details of his face as if it was the first time you saw him. Your heart missed a very small beat at his adorable freckles and the way his dark lashes fluttered when your breath melted with his — the oldest Shelby brother was definitely good-looking and charming. A kind of wild and raw charm.

Arthur could have stayed like this forever, lost in the beauty of your gaze and locked up in this room with you, but unfortunately, Tommy wanted to see him tonight and he could not say no to Shelby’s business. His lips parted and the words left his mouth reluctantly. “I’ll have to go right? Eat your dinner. Drink your nightly glass of milk and try to sleep hmm.” He hummed against the corner of your mouth . The vibration of his voice combined with the sensation of his facial hair melted your core and sent a wave of warmth in your belly. Finally, he kissed you there one last time before forcing himself to get up. This was at the moment he was about to leave the bed that Arthur felt the feeble grip of your little fingers closing on the fabric of his vest’s sleeve, trying to hold him back.

“Stay with me, please.” You sniffed, for his presence and the devoted way he took care of you made you feel safe. Something you hadn’t experienced in years. Your hazel eyes, whose color reminded him of sunlight going through a pool of honey, shone with a beseeching look, “Art’… Pretty please.”

“Oh… Bunny.” Arthur clenched his jaws — he felt his heart’s pace quicken in his chest at your intoxicating words and at the submissive way you were looking at him. At this very moment, keeping the thought of ruining you out of his mind was the most difficult struggle he had always faced. War in France was nothing compared to the restless battle that was happening in his soul. Arthur bit the inside of his cheek harder until the metallic taste of blood flooded his tastebuds and soothed his violent desire. His whole being had lit up with such an indescribable euphoria that you almost saw the flames dancing in the frozen desert of his eyes, “I’ll be back soon and stay with ye forever,” He let out a long and shaky exhale from his nostrils in an attempt to keep his brutal emotions in line. For sure he didn’t want to burst into hysterical laughter in front of you and scare you away. Not after everything he did, everything he sacrificed to make this moment happen. Once he managed to alleviate his inner turmoil, the gangster gently took your little hand in his and kissed each of your knuckles with indescribable tenderness.  “Sleep tight and wait for me, I’ll come back soon, slip under your bedsheet and keep ye warm eh.”

You did not wait long after Arthur left the house to eat what he had brought. Despite your poor health condition, you surprisingly felt like you were starving. Eating the last slice of bread, your lips stretched in a faint smile: he didn’t lie when he said you were going to love it. His aunt truly cooked like a chief, and you mentally noted down that you’d had to compliment her for her cooking skills the day you’ll meet her. Following this pleasant meal, your general fatigue caught up with you and you decided to go back to sleep rather quickly. A little yawn escaped from your lips — never mind the glass of milk. You left it on the nightstand, untouched, because you were already dozing off. Ready to sleep, you snuggled in the good-smelling sheet, made yourself comfortable in the large bed, and even found the best position… But Morpheus didn’t want you anymore. Worst than not sleeping, you emerged from your torpor only twenty minutes later, with an insufferable aching feeling that twisted your stomach. The pain had been so sudden, so vivid, that you sat up straight on the mattress, your eyes wide-opened and cold sweat running down your spine. The room started to spin around you for what seemed to be an eternity — and it spin so bad your nails dug into the bedsheet in a desperate attempt not to faint. Your heart was beating so fast that you could feel it pulsing in your throat, ready to be thrown up and run away by itself. But despite these sudden symptoms, all the indescribable and odd fatigue you went through for the last couple of days had entirely vanished, leaving you well-awake. The only reminder of your weak condition was the bitter taste that remained on your tongue. 

“Hell…” You exhaled slowly, the heavy nausea and dizziness you just experienced finally decreasing, but the relief was short. Indeed, it was at the very moment you started to feel better than the musky and masculine perfume that was floating in the room struck you. To these peculiar fragrances, your body reacted with another fit of panic: you could recognize this cologne among thousands of others, for its owner had been the bane of your existence since the night you met at the Garrison. Arthur Shelby’s scent was all around you. It impregnated the bedsheets and stuck to your own body and hair so strongly you even wondered if he hadn’t crawled under your skin in your sleep. With renewed energy, you jumped from the bed like a cat that had just touched water, and looked all around you with quick and erratic movements: this was not your bedroom.

“No,  no…” You repeated, slipping one moist palm in your fire hair, and slicking it back, all the while your mind began swirling in a whirlwind of utter panic. However, you knew you had to stay the calmest you could if you wanted to understand what was happening and if you wanted to find a solution. Hence, you focused on the cold sensation of the wooden floor to keep track of reality. After wiggling your toes a few times, the realization that you were almost naked slowly crept into your mind, “No…” A gasp escaped from your lips when you looked down and discovered that you were only dressed in your panties and a man’s shirt that was running too large for you. The same shirt you saw Arthur wore sometimes. That damn white shirt with thin dark stripes. Panic settled in your bones again, making your breath hitched and your throat tightened as if an invisible hand was trying to choke you, “Calm down Y/N, calm down!” You scolded yourself. In an ultimate attempt to remain stoic, you focused on your shaking hands — as your mother had taught you before your very first day of school. However, it wasn’t the way your fingers shook that grabbed your attention but rather the burns and scars of ropes that were engraved in your wrists. The marks, still a bit reddened, showed how harsh Arthur had been. You took a few steps back as if you had just been stricken, and wobbled under the violence of the chaotic flashbacks that suddenly assaulted your mind.

The bottle of whiskey shattering on the ground.

The ropes hanging from a gloved hand.

Arthur’s lanky body pressed against yours, trapping you against the wall. Oh Bunny… I won’t hurt ye.

Ropes biting on your skin?

In search of the truth, your eyes quickly traveled on any visible parts of your body. Then, you saw them: similar marks on your thighs and ankles. The sole sight of them triggered a stream of uncontrollable tears to overflow from your eyes, and helped you reconstitute what happened during your odd blackout: Arthur Shelby had kidnapped you. The disgusting epiphany made you feel sick in your stomach all of a sudden. Yet, many questions still remained, buzzing in your head like a hive of furious hornets: how did he manage to abduct you? Why couldn’t you remember anything? And why were you so docile these past few days? In truth, all these interrogations would have been left without answer if your gaze did not fall upon the still-full glass of milk that was on the nightstand. Water had beaded over the surface as the beverage warmed up due to the room temperature, trickling down the glass just like your crystal tears did down your cheeks.

“He drugged the fucking milk…”  You whispered with a broken voice. It was all becoming clear. Yes, your excruciating fatigue and dizziness suddenly made sense. Arthur had purposefully drugged your daily glass of milk to keep you all nice and quiet, hence finding another use for the meds the doctor had prescribed him. Consequent to this last information, your self-control broke down — it was too much to handle.

 “FUCKING SICK BASTARD!!!” You yelled, for your repressed panic exploded in a fit of anger and sadness. The feeling of betrayal was so excruciating and your hopelessness so crushing that all you could do was grabbed the glass of milk and smashed it against the floor. The white liquid splattered all over the parquet and filled the small space between each board. Then, not relieved by this violent gesture, you pulled your hair and screamed louder, eyes squeezed tight and lungs burning. Never in your life you had felt so close to losing your goddamn mind — and it was awfully One sole rational thought crossed your mind at that moment: you had to get the fuck out of here before he came back. Without further waiting, you rushed to the door like a chased rabbit and tried to open it — but of course, it was locked. What were you expecting? “SON OF A BITCH!!” You screamed, shaking the handle as fiercely as you could, but the door remained shut and only the only thing that replied to your desperate shrieks was the dull silence of an empty house.

Truth was, the most logical part of you knew that no matter what you attempted, it would not work. And this last conclusion killed the last bit of control that remained in your soul. Slipping into a temporary fit of fear-induced insanity, you slammed your tiny body against the heavy wooden door one first time. Your being shook at the collision with the hard surface but it didn’t stop you. Quite the contrary, adrenaline had numbed your nerves and you were more than ready to destroy your bones in bits if it was the price to pay for freedom. “OPEN IT!!” You roared, crashing yourself against the door a second time. A big thud resonated in the house. “FUCKING OPEN IT!” Another impact. And another. And another until all your strength left your body, exhausted by useless efforts. Silence fell again in Arthur’s bedroom: the only sound that could be heard was your erratic and whistling breath.  You might as well face if: you were trapped for good, with no way out of this hell. All you did after your fit was to let your back slide along the door until you ended up sitting on the floor, hopeless. As your eyes aimlessly wandered around you, you noticed a sheet of paper floating in the puddle of milk. Curious, you frowned and tilted your head to the side to look at the drawing that was on it. The sketchy and dark lines were forming the shapes of a bunny, lying limp into the fangs-filled jaws of a creepy-looking wolf. You started crying again. And so did the bunny, for the milk had made the ink that composed the drawing run down the animal’s face in tar-black tears.

 

Arthur had been looking forwards to coming back home.

During the whole mission, his mind kept obsessing over the sight of you, peacefully sleeping in his bed with your doll face relaxed and your long fiery mane spread out on the immaculate white sheets. He had nervously moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue at the maddening memory of your feeble voice begging him to stay by your side — a sentence that was playing on repeat in his mind like a broken record. The way you had looked at him, with teary eyes and lips parted, got him on his knees. With spiraling thoughts all revolving around you, Arthur didn’t even reply to Tommy when the latter talked to him about the Epsom Derby and the Eden’s Club. All he did was stare blankly at the wall facing him, lost in the meanders of his own sick brain. The club, the races, the money, the pretty dancers, he didn’t care anymore. All that mattered was your frail arms around his body and the intoxicating way your lips grazed his burning skin when you nestled your face in the crook of his neck. 

Tommy and John quickly glanced at each other after witnessing one too many of their older brother’s absences, but still, they did not ask any questions. Masculinity obliged. Moreover, it was not unusual for Arthur’s gaze to turn into the thousand-yard stare, especially after the war. Somehow he had never fully returned from France, like many other veterans. Like John and Tommy themselves — it was just more frequent in Arthur’s case. When Tommy told him they were done for tonight, Arthur simply mumbled a gruff “Alright, see ye brothers” before leaving with hastened steps, his tall silhouette disappearing in the dark veil of the nights with the walk of a preying wolf.

“Something’s wrong with Arthur lately.” Thomas Shelby’s husky and quiet voice stated as his mesmerizing turquoise eyes still remained fixed to the horizon, even after the darkness of Birmingham’s streets had swallowed his brother’s frame.

“Something’s always wrong with Arthur anyway.” John shrugged.

They never talked about it ever again.

As soon as he came home, the gangster hung up his long black coat stained with dried blood behind the door and threw his cap on the living room’s coffee table. Before heading upstairs, he stopped in front of the corridor’s mirror to slick his hair back, smooth his mustache and rearrange his bow tie: he had to be perfect for you. After a very short while of dolling himself up, Arthur finally grabbed the red carnation he had brought earlier and went up without wasting any more time. So late in the night you were certainly sleeping, but still, he had promised you to crawl in the bed, and, to be honest, he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to feel your dainty body against his. So strong, rough, and scarred. Stealthily, he walked to the bedroom, careful not to make any loud noise that would disturb your well-deserved rest. Yet, he stopped at the door and hesitated once he arrived – his heart went wild at the simple thought of seeing you. Arthur clenched his jaws, his mind spinning round and round to the point he had to grip the handle to keep himself from slipping into madness. That was because of this unpleasant feeling of being overwhelmed by his love that he took a blue little vial out of his trouser’s pocket and poured the white powder it contained on the back of his hand. Blocking one nostril with his index, Arthur snorted the cocaine line in one row, coughed a little bit, and then threw his head back, letting out a long and raspy moan. His lips parted as a sweet cocktail of euphoria and energy spread in him in a warm wave. Now he felt better, now he felt invincible. After that little boost, Arthur entered the room with a smile etched on his lips and closed the door behind him. What an unpleasant surprise it was for him when he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at him with your face distorted by both anger and disgust. His smirk soon vanished when he noticed your eyes, swollen and bloodshot from hours of crying.

“Bunny?” He asked with a tinge of worry in his voice.

“You’ve kidnapped me.” You replied, biting down your enraged sobs. The gangster opened his mouth to reply to your cutting remark, but no sound came out: you had taken him aback. Instead, his steel-blue eyes quickly searched for the glass of milk, which he found smashed on the floor. It didn’t take much more for him to understand what had happened.

“It’s not what ye think, love.” He tried to remain quiet but panic was already setting in him. The red carnation slipped from his fingertips and fell on the wooden floor.

“You’ve locked me up in your bloody bedroom, almost naked…” Even you barely believed the words you were speaking, for they sounded almost surreal. It surely was a nightmare. An awful, awful nightmare.

“Fuck me.” Arthur grunted when he noticed the damaged door handle, undeniable proof that you had done everything in your power to escape. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat… You had tried to escape. In a matter of seconds, Arthur’s heart rate increased, and his mouth dried at the escalating anger he was experiencing. Why? Why would you want to escape? The first flicker of irritation manifested itself with the way his body tensed and the long inhale he took.

“I—I want to leave.” You said as firmly as you could, standing up in front of the bed.

“Leave?” His forehead creased above his frowning brows, “Nah, you ain’t leaving.” He straight off replied. All the softness and the honey with which he usually talked to you had disappeared, handing over a corrosive hostility. You batted your eyes, not recognizing him anymore. But despite everything, Arthur did try his best not to let the destructive rage that was burning within overcome him. Gathering all his willpower, he gave a dismissive wave of his hand and went on “Yer going to come back to bed eh. And yer going to let me take care of you, right? We’ll talk about it after a good night of sleep ‘cause you’re not thinking straight at the moment.” He talked slowly, making several short pauses in between words for he was fighting against the urge to let the switch in his brain flip. But the way he handled the situation, dismissing the problem and ordering you to go back to bed as if everything was normal made you lose your temper.

“Are you fucking serious? You think I’m going to obey and go back to bed? So what, Arthur? Do you want me to spread my legs for you and then thank you for fucking abducting me?” Now you were yelling, fear temporarily replaced by a blinding hatred you had never felt in your whole life, “You’re a maniac, a fucking sick bastard!” Tears flooded your vision as you spoke, "You've been ruining my life for months!"

“Stop it.” He said, as calmly as he could, his eyes flickering between you and his boots. Blood was boiling in his veins.

“The fuck is wrong with you ey?! You’ve tied me with ropes… You kept drugging me to use me as your puppet and satisfy your fucking twisted urges… Christ, Arthur!” Your voice boomed in the room. Carried on by your hatred, confidence grew in you and you approached him step by step, " Wake the fuck up!"

“Stop it.” Arthur had trouble breathing, his anger nearly suffocating him as seconds passed. He clenched his fist until his scarred knuckles whitened – God knew he didn’t want to hurt you, but a vortex of rage swirled inside him, and he knew he was about to reach his breaking point in a minute or another. Trying hard to suppress his caustic wrath, he slowly broke the distance between you and brushed your hips with his trembling fingers in a seemingly soft gesture, “Stop it, Bunny.”

But his touch felt like he had stabbed you with a knife.

“STOP CALLING ME BUNNY! MY NAME’S Y/N FOR FUCK’ SAKE. I’m not your bloody bunny! I’m nothing, and so you are!”  You almost choked with your screams, pushing him with a surprising strength – At least, it had been enough to make him take a few steps back. “Get fucked, Arthur Shelby.” That being said, you pushed him again and rushed to the door in an attempt to run away from him. But Arthur’s reflexes were sharp, enhanced by cocaine, and he managed to catch you by the arm before you could reach the exit. Surely you didn't mean it, you were just a bit... Confused. But soon you'd understand that you loved him too.

“Y/N.” He scolded but you weren’t listening anymore. You didn’t want to listen, you wanted to leave this damn place and you wanted it now. Guided by panic, you threw a nasty punch right at his chin -- your knuckles aching from the shock with his jawbone. When you realized what you had just done, it was already too late. Arthur’s face turned to the side at the violence of your blow, making him bite his tongue so hard he felt the metallic taste of blood exploding in his mouth. Then, silence fell in the room. The threatening and chilling silence which follows the blast of a bomb, right before the screams and cries start to echo. “What the hell did ye…” He muttered, bringing his trembling free hand to his bleeding mouth. The other was still firmly holding your arm, keeping you from escaping so firmly that he almost broke your bone. His fair eyes, adorned with pretty lashes and charming crow feet, suddenly darkened like a predator that had just smelt the distress of a wounded prey.

“Let me go!” You whined, pulling on your arm as fiercely as you can and clawing his hand with your nails to try to break from his grip.

“ALRIGHT THEN!” He burst out, definitely losing control. With brutal movements, Arthur pounced on you with the strength of a rabid wolf, and trapped your wrists with one of his hands before pushing you against the nearby wall to pin them above your head, “Al-fucking-right! Are we hitting each other now? That’s what ye want?!”  He barked loudly with blood dripping from his mouth, only a few inches away from your face. “Did I laid a fookin’ finger on you? Nah, so the least you can do is be FOOKIN’ civilized!” A cry of pain escaped from your lips as he shoved you a second time against the wall, the collision between it and your frail body making all your bones shake.

“You’re hurting me!” You lamented, wriggling under his grip. The gangster was holding your wrists so tight that your fingertips were starting to tingle.

“Am I?” He replied in a low growl – Arthur’s lips stretched into a carnivorous smile, showcasing blood-stained teeth whose canines were pointy. His face was red, his rage highlighted with the pumping vein on his forehead, “Listen to me. I don’t bloody know what the hell yer implying, but I didn’t satisfy my urges, as you said. If it had been the case, you would have woken up every day with cum dripping down yer tight pussy.” All you could see now was the white of his eyes. “I would have ruined ye until ye could not walk anymore, filled every fookin’ hole of your body,” He pressed you harder against the wall, his words stirring desire in him, “Marked every inch of your skin,” He licked the blood off his lips with the tip of his tongue, the taste only arousing his more, "Made you fookin' choke on my cock ‘til you’d look at me with teary eyes and drool running down your bratty mouth." The sparkle that lit up his steel-blue eyes betrayed how he enjoyed keeping you restrained -- and probably how the darkest side of his obsessive love would love to make such things to you, "So don’t make me fookin’ regret being a gentleman with ye.”

“Please Arthur, stop! I—I wanna go home please…” You begged him, despair and terror overcoming you.

“Now ye say please, ey! Now you ain’t callin’ me a maniac anymore, are ye?!” He let out a hoarse and menacing chuckle, spitting a few droplets of blood at your face as he did, “That’s not how ye should talk to your bloody man, sweetheart.” With ragged breath and bare teeth, you knew Arthur was at the very edge of going for your throat.

Yet, you looked at him straight in the eyes through your tears and spat at his face, disgusted by all he had said. “You’re not my man and you’ll never be!”

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” Trembling with rage, and fury shining in his eyes, Arthur grabbed you fiercely and threw you on the floor, right where the glass shards were scattered. You had barely understood what had just happened when the piercing and excruciating sensation of the glass cutting your flesh awoke in your body. You yelled in pain, your voice so loud that it did not seem human anymore – you sounded like prey screaming with agony. Terrified and in utter panic, you wanted to move but didn’t, for the sight of your own blood suddenly made you feel sick. You were bleeding. Fucking bleeding.

“Oh God, oh God…” You sobbed.

“Why don’t ye understand that I fookin’ love you eh?!” Arthur brawled even louder, standing in front of you and towering over you with all his height as you were crying in crimson stains of fresh blood and shattered glass, “We're made for each other, Bunny. I know it. I knew it from the moment ye smiled at me at the Garrison: you wanted me to come for you... And here I am, love! All fookin' yours!" He said, opening up his arms and tilting his head slightly to the side, his lips stretched in a blood-stained and frightening grin. As your eyes watched him with horror, you understood the extent of his madness. Then, Arthur leaned over you and grabbed you by the neck to bring you closer again. In a reflex, you shut your eyes tight at the sensation of his calloused hand tightening around your throat, “I won’t let you leave me, hm?” He groaned. His breath – erratic and panting – crashed on your face, “I’ll tell you…” He started with his low and gruff voice, whose gravel tones broke the last will of fighting that remained in you, “All you’re gonna do now is be a good fuckin’ wife,” He breathed heavily, while his free hand roamed over your face in a soft caress. In the violence of your fight, some strands of his hair had come loose and were now hanging down his sharp face, “Yeah, like the perfect couple. We’ll go in the bathroom hm.” Arthur strangle you a tiny bit harder to feel your heartbeat against his palm, which resulted in you moaning in pain. “ We’ll go in the bathroom. We’ll get you all clean yeah.” His lips crashed against yours without searching for your consent, stealing a few pecks from your plump lips before his voice turned into a whisper, “Yeah. We’ll make love, hmm?” He kissed you again and again until his light pecks weren't enough for him and he decided to let his tongue force its way into your mouth. The taste of whisky and blood overwhelmed you. Desperate, you tried to move away, for you were suffocating as he moaned softly and low in your mouth, but he was too strong.

“Please…” You begged against his lips, sobbing — but he remained unmoved by your cries. The room was spinning all around you as you realized how stupid you had been thinking you could have escaped. How suicidal it was to underestimate his obsession with you.

With trembling fingers, you cautiously touched the back of the hand that was choking you. Despite your thoughts crashing into each other in your skull and the despair that was beating you down, you still managed to understand one essential thing: you had to calm him down. You had to do it if you didn’t want him to kill you out of anger – especially since his brutal and crazy fit was enhanced by the fact he was high.  Yes, you definitely had to find a way to lure him into a more stable mood…Because you just knew that if he couldn’t have you, no one else would. With everything it implied. Gathering your courage, you looked up and hold his gaze even though pure terror shone in your hazel iris, “I’m… I’m sorry Arthur…” You gritted your teeth, black dots dancing in front of your eyes. Air. You needed some air.

“Hmm?” He replied, his lips still grazing yours. Nevertheless, the tender sensation of your skin against his made him loosen his grip around your neck.

“You’re—You’re right. We’ll do that.”

“Are we?” He groaned, rubbing his cheek against yours like a wildcat. If he could have purred at this moment, he would have certainly do so.

You forced a smile, but tears still ran down uncontrollably from your honey eyes, “Yes Arthur.” You finally said, letting his void swallow you whole. Why would you fight? Your fate was sealed, and you just knew you would never leave. Your future was to be with him and nothing would ever change that. Even if you managed to escape one day, you knew he would track you down until you were either his or dead and cold. All you could do now was just do your best not to get yourself killed.

A few days ago you were Y/N. A young and joyful student, whose excellent grades and good nature made your mother proud. Now you were just Bunny. Fucked up and enslaved Bunny. And Bunny belonged to Arthur Shelby.

For the best.

But particularly the worst.

Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

Tagging some of Arthur’s bunnies: @helen06dreamer @zablife @brummiereader @peakyltd @peakyswritings @dearshelby @raincoffeeandfandoms @kissforvoid @psychadelichues @shelbydelrey

Gif by Ria (@alicent-targaryen)

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #29: Fade In: Katsuki Bakugou

On a late-night movie date, you and Bakugou have the theatre to yourselves. You take advantage. 

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged-up characters, overworked pro hero Bakugou, movie theatre (public) sex, lots of dirty talk, Bakugou’s sailor mouth

Notes: Today’s prompt was “Dirty Talk.” The premise is inspired by real-life events that are FAR more innocent than I’m making them sound. 😂  I’m enjoying writing all of these little Bakugou bits! Let me know if you want to see more of our grumpy boi after Kinktober.

Kinktober Masterlist

The city is buzzing with life, even at 10pm on a Tuesday.

You drag Bakugou out of the train station, practically hauling him up the stairs and dashing across the street in the last few seconds of a walk light. A few months ago, you’d have been amazed that he’s even holding your hand in public, but these days he’s quite happy to- even if he pouts the whole time.

It’s a warmer night for the season, so you’ve got on something cute- with a playful little skirt swishing around your bare thighs. You figure there’s no better night to push your comfort zone than one you plan to spend sitting in a dark theatre.

Comfort zone or not, you feel cute. Especially given how many glances you’ve caught Bakugou stealing at your legs.

You’re meeting this late on a weeknight because it’s the only chance that Bakugou actually has to see you. He’s been busting ass night and day at the agency lately, and he’s been pulling weekends for months. You’ve got work in the morning, but you’re so thrilled to actually go out with him you don’t mind.

It’s not like your job is particularly exciting these days, anyway.

You file into the theatre, snag a popcorn to share, and take your seats. You’re the first ones in the theatre, which doesn’t surprise you- this movie’s been out for a while, and it’s not exactly a primetime showing.

Besides, you’re early.

You catch up a little, taking handfuls of buttery popcorn. Bakugou does not like taking on the role of sidekick, but he’s way ahead of the rest of his classmates even landing a job like that at twenty-one. Still, everyone knows that sidekicks are some of the most overworked heroes in the game.

It’s not until the theatre goes dark and the previews start that you realize. Nobody else is coming.

Holy shit.

“Are we seriously the only ones in this theatre right now?” You turn to Bakugou in nervous disbelief. He gives an absent little shrug, reaching for more popcorn.

“I’ll still kick your ass if you start texting halfway through.” He shoots you a wicked smirk, stroking an indulgent palm affectionately over your thigh. You’ve still got goosebumps from the chill outside, but fresh ones race across your skin when he touches you.

It’s been a while. For both of you.

“Be honest.” His voice is gruff in your ear, cutting deeper than the noisy previews that flash across the giant screen. “You wore that skirt for me, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t wear it for anyone,” you chide. You rest your palm on top of his. His fingers curl against your thigh- and yours curl around his.

“So fuckin’ cute,” he growls. He nips at the lobe of your ear and you suppress a gasp. “Looked so naughty, stickin’ out the bottom of your jacket. Like you were walkin’ around the city with nothin’ on.”

“Stop,” you chide, heat rushing to your face. “We’re-“

“What? In public?”

Whatever witty retort you had planned dies in your throat. You’re the only ones in here. It’s dark. The doors are shut. The music is loud.

You’re not sure how long it’s actually been since they needed someone up there in the projection booth, but you’re pretty certain it’s empty.

Bakugou slips an arm around your shoulders and tugs you in close. He nuzzles the spot where your ear meets your jaw, then tilts his chin up and nibbles at the same place.

It’s getting harder to say no to him. Not that you were ever trying very hard to begin with.

You relax into his affections as the previews end and the movie itself rolls. The opening credits begin with a burst of music as you turn your head and surrender yourself to a searing kiss. Bakugou twines his fingers into your hair and tugs gently, tilting your head back for access to the bare column of your throat.

“D’you have… any idea… how long… I’ve been thinking about this,” he gasps into your skin. You try not to whimper. It doesn’t work.

Bakugou’s rough palm slides up the tender skin of your inner thigh. You part your legs just a little, encouraging him. His fingertips brush beneath the hem of your skirt. You’re already damp and heated, ready for him after what feels like a lifetime apart.

You’ve seen each other plenty over the past couple of weeks, but it was always in passing. You’d drop by the agency at lunch (and embarrass the shit out of him in the process), he’d come home to you exhausted on weeknights and pass out seconds after falling into bed. He’s so fucking overworked these days it’s a wonder he’s got any libido left at all.

You’re going to take what you can get.

“Fuck,” he snarls as his mouth trails back to your ear. “You’re wet for me already, sweetness? I knew you were into this kinda shit. So dirty, sweetheart, so fuckin’ naughty.”

“Katsuki,” you plead. He’s running his mouth especially hard tonight. It’s doing more for you than you’d care to admit.

“That’s it, baby,” he continues. “I know it makes you sloppy when I talk to you like this. C’mere, sweetness, lemme take care of you.”

He slips his arm down to your waist and drags you over the armrest into his lap. You don’t fight him, letting your thighs spread across his jeans. Immediately, he anchors one powerful arm around your waist to hold you in place, sliding his other hand between your thighs and pushing your underwear to the side.

“God,” he gasps against your shoulder as he sinks two fingers into your tight heat. “I’ve missed your pussy. I’ve missed fuckin’ you so goddamn much.”  He draws his fingers back and pushes them in again, settling into a slow rhythm. You’re right there with him, rolling your hips smoothly into his touch.

He’s hard already, stiff and excited down one leg of his jeans. You felt it the second he tugged you onto his thighs, and you’re not shy about rubbing yourself against it.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “You want it? You want my cock, right here in the fuckin’ theatre? You do, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you find yourself whining. You never used to be adventurous. Not before Katsuki came along. But he makes you wild.

He lets go of you and you lean forward a little, letting him scoot backwards to fumble with his fly. He unzips, pulling his thick cock out and hiking your skirt up. You feel it, heated and already dripping with precum, against your ass.

With one hand braced on your hip, he lifts you. You tug your underwear out of the way and hold it there. As you sink down on him, he lets his head fall back against the seat with a feral groan.

“God damn, sweetness. Fuck, you’re as fuckin’ tight as ever. So goddamn wet for me. That’s it, ride my fat fucking cock. Shit, you really know how to milk it outta me, don’t you?”

You start to rock your hips atop his, keeping the movements subtle. As you let go of your panties, your skirt flops back down around your thighs, concealing your union. Bakugou keeps one hand braced on your hip while the other roams, tugging your shirt out of the top of your skirt and slipping his palm over your chest.

“Not… gonna last long,” he warns tightly behind you.

“Me neither,” you pant. It’s been too long for both of you.

Bakugou loses patience and lifts you by the hips, planting his feet on the sticky theatre floor and rutting up into you with a sloppy slap slap slap. He pants hard into your shoulder, sucking and biting at your tender skin and growling more filth into your ear.

“That’s better. God, I really needed to fuck you, baby. Look at you. You’re gonna cum so fast on just my cock. You’ve been holdin’ out on me this whole time, huh?”

He’s right. You’re tipping your head back against his shoulder and riding out the waves of pleasure he pumps into you. He knows your body well- he can feel the way your thighs begin to tense and shake as you get ready to cum.

“Fuck, Katsuki… b-baby, I…” Your voice dies in your throat as your peak hits you, tight and silent. You dig your fingers into the fabric armrests on either side of your hips and grip him tight, descending into shivers atop him.

“Jesus Christ, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” Bakugou’s voice is beginning to break, too, but he keeps it down hard and growls softly from the depths of his chest. “Wet little pussy drippin’ out all over me. God, you’re such a mess. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill you up. Gonna put so much cum in your belly, sweetness. Gonna make you so messy for me. Getting so fuckin’ close, baby, oh, shit, oh g-gah…”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence either. He cums hard beneath you, intense and sudden and fast. The wet burst of him inside you is harder than you anticipated but you let him fill you. You let him fuck out the pleasure and you let him collapse, spent, into the plush chair behind him.

His jeans are a mess. Your underwear is, too. Slowly, you work your way off of him and he tucks himself back into his pants. You settle into the pleasant weight of each other. To your immense surprise, nobody finds you. Nobody discovers what you’ve done. You leave the theatre without incident and later, when he takes you home, he fucks you twice more.

The next morning, your coworker slinks eagerly up to you in the break room as you’re grabbing your first cup of bitter office-brew. You didn’t get much rest last night.

“So?” She nudges you, grinning wickedly. “What’d you think?”

“Of what?” You eye her sleepily.

She rolls her eyes. “Duh. The movie. How was it?”

“Oh.” Your brain freezes up. You panic. Think of something to say. Quick. “It was… great. Such a cute ending.”

Quite an answer, considering it was a horror movie she’d recommended yesterday.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Santa Claus is... Not Cumming | Peter Parker

Warnings; includes smut, oral sex (female on male), cringey dirty talk

Peter stood in the bedroom of your shared apartment, black suspenders trailing up his torso and over his shoulders, connected to tight red furred briefs that left little to the imagination, and were held up by a faux belt. At the sight, you shuffled back onto the bed clad in red and green striped lingerie, licking your lips as you allowed your eyes to take all of him in.

The young man was a sight to behold, a white beard tied around the circumference of his head, his brown eyes raking hungrily over your form. It was, to say the least, different from his heroic costume. Never in a million years would you have thought that Spiderman would be stood at the end of your bed, as someone so festive and exposed. This entire charade was a little out of the comfort zone that Peter would so tightly hold onto during casual intercourse, however he was willing to try.

Christmas Eve was tomorrow, and there was no better thought of how to embrace the Christmas spirit than this. Sex, it was an entanglement, a rationing of hormones that derivates someone’s mood and soul.

“Tell me, what is that you want for Christmas, little elf?” Peter’s words may have been cheesy, but they still managed to make you wet, so you crawled to the edge of your bed, looking up at the disguised man with lust pouring out of your darkened eyes.

There were so many options for you to choose from, so many things to do. But there was one specific thing overall that you so strongly desired. “Your cock Mr Claus, please.” A trailing of drool ran from the corner of your mouth as you eye his partial erection.

His hand ran through your locks, lightly and gently brushing through them as he tentatively massaged your scalp. At the comforting sensation, your eyelids flickered, closing out of satisfaction. “Dirty girl.” His description of you set a pang of heat to your centre, to which you hummed at. “Perhaps I should put you on the naughty list. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes Santa.” He lightly slapped your cheek, brushing your face to the side. He wasn’t as bad at this as you had expected, but there was still time for a slip up, but before then, your aim was to get your mouth onto his cock, gulping him down your throat, considering that it was the time of year to give rather than receive.

“Where do you want my dick?” He teased.

“In my mouth, please.” Was your moan of content, and in turn, Peter gave you the show of him slipping the extra support from his shoulders, trailing them down his sides and tugging the fabric shorts past his knees, leaving his hardening dick exposed. His hand grabbed onto the base, slowly pumping as he stepped towards where you were leant.

“Open.” You complied with what he said, opening your mouth wide, allowing him entrance to slide his member into your warm cavern, and he released a moan as your tongue swirled around the middle of his length, tracing wet lines upon the skin.

The feeling of having your face feel so full made you moan contentedly, after that sound emitted from you, you pushed your head farther down onto him, pushing his tip to the end of your throat. As gently as he could, Peter began to thrust, setting a calm pace so that you wouldn’t choke, however his method didn’t work out, seeing as you suffered those exact consequences after he spoke, due to what he said.

“Do you want a white Christmas all over your face?” That remark made you choke on his dick, spluttering as you did so and eventually pulling your mouth of him. It was too much to handle, finally you had cracked. One of your hands thumped against the mattress, as your face grew red.

“Oh my god!” You were halfway hysterical, laughing nonstop, and almost rolling off of the bed. That had been the final straw into making you break, it was clear that this roleplay thing wouldn’t have been taken overly seriously, but now you couldn’t take any of the agenda in that way. It was too damn funny. “I can’t, I can’t.” Clutching onto your stomach as the old, legend of a man would, you chuckled, Peter wasn’t sure whether he should join in or grow embarrassed.

Both would suffice, and so he unlatched the string drawn beard from around his head, tossing it onto the floor and laid on the bed beside you, naked and laughing. “Do you want to give up on this whole thing?”

At that, you froze with a grin spreading upon your face. Seamlessly, you tugged both parts of your underwear off, teasingly as to draw your boyfriend’s attention in on you. “No, I want to cum, so we shall continue, but maybe we should ditch this whole cheesy one liners thing. I think I want Peter to cum in me rather than Santa.”

From the bluntness of your words, Peter hastily nodded, trying to remain calm under the circumstances. You always made it clear when you wanted something, and accordingly you weren’t shy on your stubbornness to continue. Your body rolled over his splayed body, applying your weight over his well intact physique, your fist soon forming around his cock and giving him a couple of firm strokes before sinking down onto him.

A pleasured sigh left your lips once you had accommodated to his full length. Peter released a similar sigh, his hands steadying onto your hips, ensuring that you wouldn’t go too fast as he was still relatively close still after the mood shattering break.

Slowly. he began moving, his cock rubbing your walls as he reached up to grasp your hands with both of his. The mood in the bedroom had entirely shifted, rather than being a new, experimental one, where neither of you were sure how far to take it, it had became comforting, familiar.

That note made a knot begin to grow in the bottom of your belly, but you suppressed it until Peter’s thrusts became ragged, revealing that he too was close. He quickened his pace in the slightest notion, by chance hitting a delirious spot inside of you.

At the pressure that his tip put upon that point of you, it encouraged you to cum, he quickly followed as you clenched around him. From how your head leant breathlessly back into the pillows, your eyes focused on the fairy lights hanging from the walls.

They were bright, the put an attractive luminescence upon both of your skins, defying a new meaning to an afterglow.

[sugary-sheep]

An Analysis of How Deltarune Chapter 2′s Soundtrack Made Me Feel, Copied From My Discord Thread

Girl Next Door - a very good track for the beginning of the game. It serves to strongly establish noelle as a familiar, friendly character, since you might not have bothered learning too much about her in chapter which makes sense considering the later revealed fact that kris and noelle are chidlhood friendsIt doesn't have any strong hints of bittersweet, it's just a plain happy melody. You're just starting the game after all.

My Castle Town - this is where the first twinges of bittersweet/nostalgia come in.It's meant to bring back memories of your adventure three years ago, chapter 1. You're back "home," at least from the player's point of view, and the player is the one that all the music panders to. (which wouldn't be a thing to note if the game wasn't so meta). It isn't very strongly bittersweet though. It's a calming melody, meant to ease you into the world, and doesn't draw too much attention to itself. If Girl Next Door is a warm breeze, then My Castle Town is the pleasant chill of fall.

Queen - this song is a wacky and fun melody, borrowing both carnival rhythm and instrumentation. It has twinges of deeper emotion and all that but it's mainly just a funny clown theme for everyone's favorite clown: Queen.

A CYBER’S WORLD? - it starts off with the main melody outlined on a chiptune low-res synth, which drops into a rich collage of higher-res synths. It evokes emotions of adventure and energy and anticipation, while also being neutral enough to act as a backdrop for all the silly things you do in the cyber fields. it's a really damn good song. it doesn't tug on the heartstrings necessarily but it just. it's so nice to listen to.

A Simple Diversion - it’s. a simple diversion. chip tune rendition of the queen motif. it's good. nothing much to analyze.

Almost To The Guys , Cyber Battle , When I Get Happy I Dance Like This - (combined since basically the same instrumentation and the same motifs) god I fucking love these songs so much. they are so happy and sensitive and soft and warm. They are like the auditory version of a hug. idk what drugs toby fox put into these songs but it fucking. they fit these funny guys so perfectly. it's just a silly fun theme about these fun little dudes. it's energetic and happy and makes you wanna dance. It doesn't take itself too seriously and it's just. It solidifies that this is a Silly game with Silly things that happen and fun people that you can be friends with.

Cool Beat - too short to analyze.

When I Get Mad I Dance Like This - same as Cool Beat

Berdly’s Theme - bringing back the CLOWNS, this time without a harpsicord though. it's a synthesizer melody and emphasizes the silly gamer antagonism that berdly provides, while not painting him as a bad person. just an antagonist.

Smart Race - this is a particularly tense battle theme, playing off of the semi-betrayal and kind if indignation you feel towards berdly since like. He's a lightner like you! and he's working for queen! what the FRICK.

Faint Courage - an uplifting melody that (tries) to soothe the pain of getting a game over. The crunched nature of the synths is notable though, compared to other soothing songs on the soundtrack.

Welcome To The City - This is the first song that really starts to dip into the nostalgia. It's still an upbeat and adventurous melody, but like. Your friends just left you, and you're exploring the city alone. It has a lot of flourishes and flair that reminds you that you're in a cool exciting city, and slowly becomes more uplifting as it goes on, but still keeps the distinctly minor sound. (if it's in a major key shut up I don't care). It's also the theme for the time you spend with noelle, and like. in that context, it feels more like a friendly nostalgic melody than a bittersweet feeling. the familiarity of Girl Next Door is back, and honestly it borrows a lot of emotional cues from Girl Next Door. They are double edged and the feelings they evoke are very context sensitive. it can be a friendly warmth, or a wishing for better, older days. 

Mini Studio - a return of the resistance motif. noticably lower res synthesizers but like. your funny little dudes are here :] 

cool mixtape - Clown to the MAXIMUM. not in that it's the most carnival inspired but like. it's really bombastic and fun while also being built around queen's clowny and wacky motifs. The instrumentation also adds to the non-serious quality, making it sound like. well, a shittily recorded mixtape. Lol. It’s great.

Hey Every ! - This song evokes all the emotions of as corrupted seen on tv advertisements with a dash of clown. Very distinctly wacky upbeat song.

Spamton - This is where the creepy factor of spamton starts to kick in. It brings on the menacing atmosphere of being in this alleyway with an unstable puppet salesman who jumped out of the dumpster, however the silly vocals do take a LOT of the edge off the creepiness. Which is fitting for spamton. because he would more intimidating if his dialogue wasn't so ridiculous and silly, and if he wasn’t such a silly little guy.

Now's Your Chance to Be A - a very groovy and slightly menacing battle theme that makes you wanna get out of this situation, but it's not like. scary. it's just a little bit creepy. Like a haunted house. it's a really fun song though. the edge mostly serves to accentuate the wacky and fun qualities of the song, like salt enhancing the sweetness of a dessert.

Elegant Entrance - This has the same menacing/eerie quality as spamton’s battle theme, but much more genuine. it takes the formerly clowny harpsicord used with Queen’s themes, and makes it sound much more regal. It's not bittersweet though. just intimidating.

Bluebird of Misfortune - a VERY strongly minor sounding song, and while it's not a super deeply resonant sadness, it does minimize the wacky/funny factor.

Pandora Palace - the first majorly bombastic song. It's the buildup to the climax, and has a very unique blend of regal, groovy, and energetic sounds with a small sprinkle of bittersweet, mostly to build tension.

KEYGEN - really cool and gives an appropriate feeling for unlocking the door into the SECRET BOSS.

Acid Tunnel of Love - very relaxing, very happy melody. it almost dips into bittersweet at times, but is a solidly uplifting and soothing melody. It's a rest for the soul.

It's Pronounced "Rules" - Rgal in a way very different from Elegant Entrance and Pandora Palace. It's a kind of pretentious regalness, and is a big return to clowniness. Because Roulxs is a pretentious clown man.

Lost Girl - It’s. very bittersweet and nostalgic. It has solid uplifting moments to balance it out, but it's. not a super happy song. it's not a super sad one either. it's just. contemplative. emotional. it'd be a good song to cry to.

Ferris Wheel - A combination of Lost Girl and Girl Next Door, both in mood and actual motifs. It's got a lot more warmth than lost girl, and the chiptune main melody gives it the silliness it needs to take the edge off it’s bitersweetness. The upbeat and kinda whimsical harmonization helps with this too. It's a theme for two girls having an awkward but really nice and fun gay moment.

Attack of the Killer Queen  - oh man.oh MAN.Such a good song. It's absolutely bombastic, fulfilling all the promises of epic finality and regal power that have been set up throughout the mansion section. It makes queen feel like a POWERFUL and intimidating villain for honestly like. the first time in the game. It also has the emotional quality, the feeling of un-rightness, once again driven by berdly being an antagonist, but the context is stronger, since you had just had the emotional connection with him and bringing him to your side.

Giga Size - this song does not let down any of the pressure from killer queen. it has all the menacing strength that you would expect from it, and takes the regal intimidation up to another level. it's supposed to make you feel like you've lost, and as far as the player knows, they have. Also it's a lot longer than you would expect??? the soundtrack is honestly filled with really short songs. but Giga Size is one of the longer ones, despite the short amount of time it actually plays. I don't remember ever being in that portion of the cutscene long enough to hear the full thing. it's worth a listen to if you haven't already.

Powers Combined - the uplifting counterbalance to Giga Size. It gets you pumped, and it has an air of finality stronger than attack of the killer queen. This is the final push. you're on the precipice of victory.

Knock You Down - This theme continues everything from Powers combined. It's less bombastic than Attack of the Killer queen, though bviously it's still very energetic and cool. It's serious in a more uplifting sense, but also quite tense. there is a lot on the line. This is the do or die moment. It both hypes you up and calms you down, and evokes a very particular emotion, especially given the context. Really good for getting in the zone.

The Dark Truth - another song that, while more emotional, doesn't hit super deep. Imo it feels like it’s going for an "exaggerated" sense of danger and sadness. Which makes sense if it's meant to instill some doubt in ralsei's credibility. it's still a very serious song, but it feels like it's trying a little too hard. (not necessarily in a bad way)

Digital Roots - a very menacing song, and probably the most truly menacing song in the soundtrack. Sets the atmosphere for the basement perfectly.

Deal Gone Wrong - This is the climax of Digital Roots and the whole process of getting the secret boss. You're in real danger now. The puppet man wants to make a deal, and he wants your soul.

BIG SHOT - woooh boy. This song carries a lot of this menace, but brings in a ton of bombastic energy and a little bit of clown as well. it's like Now's Your Chance To Be A, but more intense. The vocal editing really adds so much to this track. The motifs are very well used, and it's just an incredibly fun and dramatic song. it's groovy! it's wacky! it's intimidating! It gets you pumped! it's a very good song

A Real Boy - This one is a really nice song. it's got a very nice uplifting quality and there's a very subtle and like. almost angelic sharp pad in the background of it that you wouldn't immediately notice adds a lot to the texture of it, combined with the crunched and low res main synth. the background of that scene fits it perfectly. Childishly painted sun and sky and all that. He’s a real boy now. You freed him :). He can escape his strings now :) 

dialtone - It’s like if you took one of the more emotional songs in the soundtrack and made it a little silly. Which makes sense. You're supposed to feel kinda bad for him, but he's still a weird wacky guy who just tried to kill you.

sans. - what do I need to say. it's sans's theme. it's wacky in an extremely chill way. it contrasts with basically all of deltarune's wacky characters, and that's perfectly cool. sans is a chill guy, especially in this game.

Chill Jailbreak Alarm To Study And Relax To - this one is just toby having fun. It's napstablook's theme with an alarm in the background. it's funny, it serves it's purpose as a gag. it's great.

You Can Always Come Home - this one has the nostalgic quality that I've been talking about very strongly, but the melody is just. It's so soothing and uplifting that you can't help but feel warm inside. it might be cold and snowing outside, but for now, you're home. you're with your family, you're sipping hot cocoa. Everything is right with the world, if only for a moment. You can always come home.

Until Next Time - another soothing melody, being a corrupted version of Don't Forget, and it evokes a lot of the same emotions, if a bit less strongly. It plays into the mystery of the ending, and would probably suit the snowgrave route pretty well. It's a good ending song in general though. It doesn't drown you in emotion. It lets you feel how you felt about what you just experienced.

Before the Story - really strong song. It's hard to fully analyze it given like. there isn't a lot of gameplay context. but it is a very dark and rich song. it's really good.

Berdly (Rejected Concept) - This song sucks ASS. it's like. pretentious. but also so cringe fail at the same.

[failedintsave]

Ok fine, fine ok. It's Nategaar hours around here today, and I need it to stay out of my current project so here's me purging it from my system til it resurfaces with vengeance in probably like a day.

You Spin Me Round

The rattling of the window panes was audible even over the bass of Murderface's boom box, rain blowing almost horizontally in tropical storm gales. But seasoned Floridians weren't afraid of a little stormy weather, as proven by the groups of drenched partygoers who continued to filter through the door of their crowded apartment.

Nathan weaved his way through the sea of bodies, returning from the keg with four Solo cups balanced overhead, trying his best not to spill everything down his arms. He squeezed into the corner where most of his band stood gathered around a wooden cable spool he'd taken from his dad's hardware shop, the tabletop littered with a scattered deck of cards, an overflowing ashtray at it's center.

"Who the fuck are some of these people?" He grumbled as he approached, passing out beers to waiting hands.

"Shit, man, idunnoe. I invited some chicks from deh show, and I know Magnus told some folks to come back, but deh rest?" Pickles shrugged. "Stuffs closin' fer deh weather I think, people lookin' fer something ta do."

He grunted, handing a cup over to Murderface next to him before reaching across the table to pass the last beer to Skwisgaar wedged between two fawning groupies.

"Shoulda put someone at the door to take money for cups, they're draining the keg." He took a slug of foamy beer, glaring down into the contents. "And there's no room to play games or do anything."

"Juscht play drink-the-beer, who needsch a game for that?"

"Auuuggh that's boring. And besides, I'm really good at that game and we'll run out of beer faster."

"He ams gots a good points."

Pickles rubbed his chin in consideration before snapping his fingers, a proverbial lightbulb going off over his head. "I gaht it."

He scurried off, slipping easily through the throng of bodies towards his room. They watched him disappear, barely a glimpse of fiery red hair visible over the shoulders of their so-called guests. After a few minutes he reappeared with a Cheshire grin and a green bottle of whiskey. He held up his first two fingers, a single die pinched between them.

"Alright, I've gaht a game fer us. First step, we empty dis bottle." He cracked the top and handed it to Nathan. "As you were deh inspiration fer dese shenanigans, you may do de honors."

"Perfect." Nathan tipped the bottle back and took a long pull, passing it off to Murderface to share around the circle as Pickles continued.

"Next t'ings, we need a couple extra players, ot'erwise dis will get real predictable quick." He stood on tiptoes, waving over a few familiar faces from their show. He flagged Magnus down, but the guitarist didn't move.

"What do you want?" He shouted across the room.

"Come play a game!"

"What game?"

"Russian roulette, whaddya think? A party game!"

"What game?" Magnus repeated, moving slightly closer.

"Spin deh bottle!"

That stopped Magnus in his tracks. "Nope. Not this again. Fool me once, shame on you. Hard pass."

Murderface sputtered as he handed off the bottle down the line. "Hold on, what wasch that?!"

Ignoring him, Pickles threw his arms up at the goateed guitarist. "Why not?!" Magnus shook his head and turned back, melting into the crowd. "Ah yeh fuckin' killjoy, fine den!"

Nathan frowned, tracking the bottle's progress around the circle. "Uh, Pickles. Why exactly did you think we'd wanna play that? Together? Do we look like middle schoolers?"

"It's fun! Dere's stakes!" He slapped the die onto the table, smirking around at his audience. "Me an' Tony an' de guys made up dis version back in deh day."

Skwisgaar wiped his mouth on the back of a slender wrist, handing the liquor down to the woman next to him. "Sos you always play deh kissingk games wif your bands?" To Nathan's ear he didn't sound put off, merely curious.

Murderface, meanwhile, was less impressed. "That'sch totally gay! We can't play thisch together, what'sch wrong with you?!"

"Eh, it's just a goof we made up, touring ain't all blowjobs and snortin' coke off tits, sometimes ya just wanna have fun." Pickles reached out and poked Murderface in the belly. "Wouldja lemme finish explainin' deh rules before ya quit?"

The bottle made it's way back to the drummer and he tilted his head back for several long chugs, holding the glass up to the light and sloshing the liquid around. He nodded and handed it off to Nathan again with a wink. Frowning, Nathan took another long draw. He wasn't going to be the first of them to back down from this idea, even if it was stupid.

"Okey, so here's why dis game is different. Dere's two parts." He indicated the die and the bottle with a flourishing gesture. "First you roll de dice. On a one, two er three, it's normal rules. Little smackaroonie. No big deal. Four an' five, ya elevate it a little bit. Makeout, pull some hair, whatever."

"Oooookaaay I think maybe Murderface was right about this." Nathan looked around at his bandmates. True there were almost twice as many girls at the table than them, but he wasn't sure he cared for the odds.

"Schee?!"

"Oh waaaaah, you buncha babies! Yer the one who said you were bored! Let's see whet you can come up with!"

"I'll plays."

Nathan's head jerked to face Skwisgaar across the table. The blonde wore an amused smirk as he focused on Pickles, a faint flush on his cheeks from the alcohol. He cocked his head to the side, accepting the drummer's challenge, golden waves cascading over his shoulder as he moved. Of course that smug bastard would play, this game sounded like a routine Thursday for him.

With a heavy sigh, Nathan's eyes shifted back to the drummer. "Alright. So what's six?"

Pickles grinned impishly. "Oh we call six 'Make It Look Good.' Thirty seconds on deh clock or til ev'rybody else makes ya stahp."

"What the actual fuck, Pickles."

"Ah-ah! Lemme finish! You have options!" He ticked off on his fingers. "One through three you can skip fer a shot. Four an' five you chug a beer. And six…"

The group around the table leaned as one, craning their necks expectantly in the drummer's direction. His eyes flashed as he snickered.

"If you want outta six, yeh gotta run a naked lap around the apartment building."

Thunder boomed outside as if to punctuate the final rule.

"Schon of a bitsch. We need more schotsch if we're doing thisch. I'm gonna get fucked up."

Pickles produced a second bottle and slammed it down on the table in front of him.

"Where were you keeping that?"

"Don't ask questions, are we playin' or what?"

The initial bottle finished it's second loop, landing in Nathan's palm again. With a grunt, he slugged the last of the booze and slammed the bottle onto it's side in the center of the table.

"God I wish there was room to play pong right now…" he picked up the dice and rolled.

The game didn't go nearly as badly as he'd expected, and after several rounds of making out with hot girls and taking shots to avoid kissing his bandmates Nathan was really starting to enjoy himself. Defying statistics, the only six rolled so far had been between two of the girls, and they'd all cheered like hooligans.

And then the fickle dice gods reconsidered their influence.

"Alrights, my toirns." Skwisgaar, who hadn't yet opted out of any of his rolls but was starting to get fairly tipsy regardless, snatched up the dice and shook it in Nathan's face, squinting one eye and grinning. He dropped it, four pips staring back up at him. Laughing, he gave the bottle a rapid spin.

It whirled and Nathan found himself holding his breath, eyes glued to the bottle, a little confused about what he was hoping would happen. Slowly, slowly the neck of the bottle came to rest pointing at Pickles.

"Uh-ohhhh, ya think the keg is tapped? Ya might be outta luck pal." The drummer laughed, pumping pierced brows at the blonde.

"Pfffft, shuts up." Skwisgaar leaned past one of the giggling girls, seizing a handful of Pickles' shirt and hauling him forward into an open-mouthed kiss. Nathan stared as they pulled apart, his skin heating and head swimming with whiskey.

"Well okey den," Pickles stroked his chin, nodding sagely. "Now I see whet all deh fuss is about, nyeheheh."

Swaying upright again, Skwisgaar clumsily flung his hair back over his shoulder. "Whats can I says, I ams a master ats everyt'ings I dedicates my times to."

"Scho like, two thingsch."

"Ams better den no t'ings."

"Hey!"

Nathan zoned out, staring at the table for the next few turns, snapped back to attention by Murderface's repeated 'No, no, no no!' as Pickles rolled a three and landed on him.

"A'right, yer turn Nate." The drummer smirked, sliding the bottle and the die across the table.

"Ugh, are we still playing this? When is it over?"

"Aw aments Nat'ans havingk any funs?"

He raised his eyes to the willowy guitarist across from him. Skwisgaar's thin arms were crossed over his chest, hip popped jauntily to the side. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his high forehead from the dense mugginess of the apartment, a teasing smile playing over his lips, bruised pink from being crushed against Pickles'. With an effort, Nathan tore his gaze away and redirected it towards the table.

"Fine. Whatever." He started the bottle spinning with more force than necessary, rolling the dice as it rotated.

Six.

Shit.

The rest of the table was already hooting in glee as the bottle spun down, slowing, taking an agonizingly long time to stop. Finally it came to rest at twelve o'clock.

Pointing at Skwisgaar.

The table erupted.

"OH SCHIT! Can't drink your way outta thisch one!"

"Nyeeeeheheheheh! Now's tha real show!"

"Oh dear sweet lord." Nathan covered his face with his hands, cheeks burning already.

"Hey you have an advantage, everything he does looks good." 

"Why t'anks you, what was you names again? Monicas?"

"Yeh could always take the second option agin?" Pickles offered, biting back a laugh as he patted Nathan's shoulder.

His heartbeat throbbed in his ears, and something like pre-show jitters fluttered in his stomach, arms and legs tingling. 

"Huehuehuehhue, ams lookingk pretty nastys out dere." Skwisgaar's drunken chuckle was underlined by another peal of thunder, window panes jumping in their casings. "Yous gonna gets blowed away."

Fuck that.

He dropped his hands away from his face, narrowing his eyes at the smirking blonde. "Fine. You dildoes want a show?"

His audience yelped as he reached down, grabbing the edge of the wooden spool and throwing it aside, playing cards and ashtray scattering to the floor, bottle toppling to the ground and shattering. Nathan lunged forward, relishing the shocked widening of blue eyes before impact.

Fighting against muscle memory of past football tackles, he grappled Skwisgaar against his broad chest, wrapping his arms beneath the other man's flailing limbs, his palms cradling bony shoulder blades. He walked the blonde backwards into the corner, pressing him into the wall.

"Timer! Start deh count!"

"No don't, I've scheen enough already, augh!"

As Skwisgaar recovered from the initial shock of being sacked, the natural showman in him awoke. Fire coursed over Nathan's scalp as calloused fingers threaded into his hair, holding his head steady as Skwisgaar turned to deepen the kiss. Nathan's clenched jaw unlocked and his lips parted before he could overthink it.

"...seven, eight, nine..!"

The sound of their onlookers counting faded into the background, drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. He pushed a knee forward between Skwisgaar's thighs, catching a long leg as it wrapped behind his and hiking it up to his hip, leaving the blonde standing one legged like an albino flamingo.

"...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen..!"

Skwisgaar bit down on Nathan's bottom lip and something in him broke, a cage door swinging open on its hinges. A growl rumbled in his chest as he reached down and grabbed the guitarist's other leg, hauling it up to his waist, lifting the other man from the floor as easily as he would carry groceries up from his car.

"... twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…!"

Fingers clawed into the material of his shirt, scratching against his back. The sudden urge to carry Skwisgaar away from the party, to drag him back to his cave like a neanderthal, blindsided Nathan and his muscles locked. Sensing the end of their performance, Skwisgaar sighed into his mouth, the pressure of his lips softening as he started to pull back.

"Thirty! Dat's time!" Pickles howled a laugh. "Holy shit guys, dat's game. Ain't nobody gonna top dat act, even if you hadn't broke deh bottle!"

Nathan opened his eyes as they broke off, the heated blue gaze in front of him driving any and all coherent thoughts from his brain. Gingerly, he released one of Skwisgaar's legs, then the other, white boots touching down on the floor, toe-heel, toe-heel. Standing once again under his own power, a slow, crooked smile stretched across Skwisgaar's face, a breathy chuckle shaking his shoulders once. It took every ounce of willpower Nathan possessed to tear his eyes away from the curve of those full lips, and he turned to face the other two members of his band.

Murderface had his eyes squeezed closed, cracking one to peek. "Isch it over? Are they done?"

Frowning, Nathan grunted through his nose like a bull, stomping forward to snatch the second bottle of liquor from the bassist's hands. Glass crunched beneath his boots as he retreated wordlessly to his bedroom, passing Magnus on the way out.

The older guitarist shook his head, curly mane swishing. "I coulda told ya… every time Pickles tries to pl--"

"Just. Don't." Nathan pushed through the hall, evicting the gaggle of strangers standing around in his room and slamming the door behind him.

Hours later, after the storm had slowed to only a downpour and the party had fizzled out, Nathan lay awake on his back, staring at the ceiling. From the second his door had closed behind him, his brain had flipped from a crawl to light speed, hurtling through thousands of moments from the last couple of years, all of them centered on interactions with his lead guitarist. Slender fingers brushing against his own as he passed the tv remote, blonde hair tickling against his arm as they drove with the windows down, the nervous fluttery feeling in his belly at the sound of a dorky, throaty chuckle.

Nathan ground the heels of his palms against his eye sockets hard enough to see stars. How long? When did these thoughts start popping up? And when had he started stomping them down, locking them away without acknowledgement? Sure, Skwisgaar was hot, he wasn't blind, he could admit that much. But this wasn't that, this was...he didn't know what this was.

But he needed to find out.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he crept out to the door directly across the hall. He started to knock, then paused, not wanting to wake anyone else in the apartment. Nathan turned the knob and cracked the door enough to wedge his face into the gap.

"Hey. Psst. Skwisgaar, you in here?" Another thought struck him, an irrational jealous pang vibrating through him. "Uh, you alone?"

The red glow of a digital clock was the only source of light in the guitarist's bedroom, a faint silhouette shifted on the bed, backlit in flashes by the blinking 12:00.

"Nat'ans?" came a groggy voice from the covers. "What ams you doing up? What times am it?" He rolled to check the useless clock and groaned in exasperation.

"Can... can I..?" He didn't wait for an invitation, stepping inside and closing the door behind him, leaning back against it and clutching the door knob like an anchor.

As his eyes adjusted he could see Skwisgaar sit up, scrubbing a hand over his face as he tried to wake up. Nathan chewed his bottom lip, the flesh tender in an not-unpleasant way. For the second time tonight his mind blanked on him completely.

"What's de matters?"

He swallowed. "Uh."

"Nat'ans?"

"Uhhhh."

Skwisgaar waited, studying him in the dark, giving him time to organize his thoughts. It was something Nathan had always appreciated about the Swede, having (mostly) learned a second language, he understood the occasional difficulties Nathan ran into expressing himself verbally.

"I uh. Earlier."

"Ja."

"I didn't. I didn't think that."

Skwisgaar shifted on the bed, turning to fully face Nathan, still waiting patiently.

"That it would…"

"Hm?"

Nathan inhaled deeply through his nose, forcing the last words out in a rush. "Wouldbelikethatthefirstime."

He waited, certain that Skwisgaar would brush it off, dismiss it as nothing, a game. Or worse, that he'd laugh. Nathan held his breath, ready to bolt in embarrassment. This was stupid, he was stupid, what had be been thinking, it had been a game, it meant nothing.

"Ams you sayingk you wants a do-overs?"

He could hear the smile in the other man's voice, cadence low and teasing, but without cruelty. Playful.

"I-I uh." He'd used up his words for the day, instead opting for a jerky nod.

A ghostly white hand reached out in the dark, forefinger crooking, beckoning him.

"Come heres den." As Nathan shuffled forward he could see Skwisgaar's eyes shining like a cat's. "Ams a firm believer dats practice make perfects."

[page-doctor-bekker]

Exposé - msbp!au

(A/N) So this is like, an exposition I guess. It’s necessary for the rest of the story. Ginormous trigger warning for allusions to child abuse, gaslighting + manipulation.

-

-

Sarah's vision blurred, as she faded in and out of consciousness. The pain is intense, and she feels like she might die. This isn't survivable. The worst of the pain hits her all at once, and she lets out a blood-curdling scream into her gag. After that pain, nothing.

"Oh Sarie, I have some bad news," His voice cut through the pain, like a scalpel in her lower back, "You're going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life..."

"Good morning Sarie," Sarah's dad sung, turning on the overhead lights as he walked into her room. He was holding a medium-sized pink bin, lined with a sterile sheet to create a sterile field, with a few syringes and medications, as well as sterile gloves, alcohol swabs, and a few other supplies. Sarah was scared awake, letting out a short groan. Her dad pulled a chair up, before pulling on a pair of gloves and disconnecting Sarah's PICC line from her overnight infusion.

He opened up a 10mL saline flush, screwed it onto the end of her line, and slowly pushed the plunger, drained the syringe into the line. Next, he pulled out another syringe, this time a 3mL syringe, half-full with clear liquid. He connected the syringe to the line, and administered the medication. She almost instantaneously felt calmer and sedated, as the Ativan coursed through her system. He proceeded to flush the line with more saline, then a syringe of Heparin. After that flush, he finished off the line by screwing on a swab cap. He tucked the line under the PICC cover, and pulled off and disposed of his gloves. Lastly, he helped Sarah sit up, and guided a small cup of pills into her shaky hand. He gave her a water cup with a straw, and helped her take her pills.

Sarah's dad moved her wheelchair closer to the bed and locked the wheels. He gently took the blankets off of her body, and threaded his left arm under her knees, and his right arm under her armpits around her body. He lifted her into her wheelchair, and buckled up her seatbelt. He hummed to her as he put her minimalist neck brace on to keep her head from flopping forward. The brace had a strap around the back of her neck, with two hard plastic pieces at the sides of her neck. The top of those plastic pieces split off onto a chin pad to hold her chin in place, and the bottoms of the plastic pieces split off into two rods that joined in a v-shape at her sternum.

Sarah’s dad turned off her overnight oxygen concentrator, and started peeling the cannula tape off of her prominent cheekbones. Sarah coughed a few times as the oxygen stopped.

“Today is tube change day,” Her dad announced, and Sarah was wheeled into the kitchen where she was sat at the table. Her dad started rummaging through the formula cabinet, "Do you want something to eat before we leave for the hospital?"

Sarah was quiet for a moment, trying to process those words through her Ativan-jumbled brain, "...Yes..." She finally decided, speaking slowly, "Can... I have... a..." She paused, thinking of what she wanted, "Cereal..."

"Yes," Sarah's dad confirmed, moving to fix her a bowl of cereal. A few quiet, zoned-out minutes later she was presented with a bowl of fruit loops. Her dad fitted the rings of her adaptive spoon onto her pointer finger and her thumb, and she started to spoon her cereal into her mouth. Her dad sat down to supervise as always, to make sure she didn't aspirate.

He multi-tasked, filling her feed bag with four cartons of formula and 8 ounces of Miralax mixed into water. He closed up the bag, and fitted the tubing into the Infinity pump. He flipped the bag upside down, and pushed the button to prime the tube. Once formula started dripping out of the end of the tube, he stopped.

Sarah's dad lifted her shirt, gently pulled the split gauze off from around her tube, and cleaned the area, "Today we have..." He grabbed the small fabric circle from the table, "Purple and pink stripes!" He fitted the tubie pad around her tube and clipped it together, and let her shirt fall.

Sarah finished her cereal, and watched as her dad tucked the bag of formula and the pump into one of Sarah’s various backpacks, and hung it on the back of her wheelchair. This particular backpack was a pale pink, with a panda on the front. On the lower right side of the backpack there was a plastic port where the tubing came out of. On the right side of Sarah’s wheelchair, between the back of the chair and the armrest was a velcro strap that held the tube out of the way of the wheel. He left her for a moment, grabbing an ice pack to tuck into the bag with the formula.

Sarah watched him, puzzled and confused, “Why aren’t you starting feeds?”

“Yes, we are going to the hospital today, you are due to have your tube replaced,” He started a sterile field, and started to draw up the day’s medications, five IV syringes and one G-tube syringe. He capped the syringes and tossed them into a plastic bag. He put her nighttime pills into a small pill container, and put it in the bag as well, “Just in case we aren’t home in time,” He put the bag into her backpack, “

Sarah started coughing a dry, rough cough. Her dad rubbed her back with one hand, and reaching over onto the table for her portable oxygen concentrator. He tucked the cannula into her nose and turned it on. She started to breathe easier, and her dad smiled.

Once she started to feel better, he spoke up, “I need to stop the machine so I can put this in your backpack and organize the tubing, okay?”

She nodded, and he turned the machine off and unplugged the tubing from the machine. Working quickly, he looped the excess tubing up and secured it with a tubie clip that he clipped to her shirt. He fed the tubing through the the velcro port in the back of her wheelchair, then through the port in her backpack. The oxygen concentrator went into the backpack, and he turned in back on once it was set up.

Once she was all set up, her dad looked at his watch, “I think it’s time to get this show on the road!”

Sarah nodded, and leaned against her headrest while her dad pushed her through the house, then out the door.

Sarah dozed all the way to the hospital, barely lucid enough to realize when she was being taken out of the car, and into the hospital.

“Let’s take a look at the ol’ g-tube then, ready?” Sarah was woken from her daze by the doctor, a brunette woman that Sarah had seen multiple times before, Dr. Manning.

Sarah nodded at the doctor, leaning back and lifting her shirt up to the underwire of her bra, exposing the tube.

“Mind if I give her her 11:00 meds?” Her dad inquired, looking at his watch. The doctor nodded and Sarah’s dad stole a pair of gloves from the wall and started fiddling with her PICC line. He pushed her morphine first, which immediately started to chill her out even more than the Ativan. The next medication was Benadryl, which was followed by saline and Heparin.

As the Benadryl kicked in, Sarah dozed off just in time for Dr. Manning to pull the tube out for the change.

An indiscernable amount of time later, Sarah woke up in a hospital bed, a different room from the procedure room she had been in before. 

“Sarah?” Her dad whispered, looking up from his phone. Sarah made a noise in the back of her throat, feeling a thin tube down her throat, and rubbed her eyes, before looking at her dad.

“Dad?” She croaked, “Where... Why are we here? Why do I have a nose tube?”

“You have an infection,” He explained, scooting closer to her bed and grabbing her right hand, “In your tube. They want to keep you here because of your immunodeficiency, they want to be a little more aggressive this ti-”

There was a knock at the door, and a doctor and a nurse walked in. They both helped themselves to some hand sanitizer off of the wall, and greeted her dad. Sarah settled back down, staying quiet.

“Whenever ANYONE in the hospital comes to talk to us, you stay QUIET. Do you hear me? Sarah, look at me. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? You are to remain absolutely silent. Do not tell them anything, you don’t understand what you’re talking about anyways. I’m the only one that can advocate for you. You’re only going to make things worse.”

“Do you have any idea how this infection might have started? Any other signs of illness, maybe another infection that spread? Have you travelled recently?”

“No, none of that.”

“And you’re always touching the tube with clean hands, cleaning it twice a day, using clean gauze, clean supplies, bathing often?”

“Yes, very clean. I’m very careful. She’s immunocompromised, and I would never do anything that could put her in danger.”

Sarah’s stomach churned. No, not clean.

“And you’re the only one who handles her tube? Is mom involved? Home healthcare nurses, babysitters?”

“Nope, it’s just me,” Sarah’s dad laughed, “Her mother took off, left me in the dust. No help I ever see! And I don’t let anyone else handle her tube.”

“Well, I think we’re going to go in for endoscopy to see what’s going on inside, see if the infection is in her stomach as well, maybe bacterial gastroenteritis, ulcers, buried bumper syndrome. We’ll see what we can find and take some more cultures.”

“Dirty tube...”

Sarah’s dad looked at her with a wrath hotter than a thousands suns, and then chuckled at the doctors, “Sorry, she just woke up. Sometimes she echoes what she hears from others, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“My tube is dirty,” She asserted groggily.

“Sweetheart, they just cleaned it an hour ago, it’s not dirty,” Sarah’s dad reassured, squeezing her hand. She sighed, and laid back.

The doctor left, and Sarah’s dad dropped her hand aggressively, “What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, “They will take you away from me and hurt you. Is that what you want?”

Sarah shook her head.

“You will die without me. Do you understand? I do everything for you. I care for you, I do everything with no help. God forbid I make mistakes. God forbid I forget things sometimes.”

She looked away.

He grabbed the tube and pulled her to face him, which yanked the tape off of her cheek. She coughed as the tubing shifted in her throat.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” He scowled at her, before putting on a worried face, “Nurse!” He flagged down a nurse walking by their door, “She pulled the tape off. Poor thing, she doesn’t understand.”

-

-

(A/N) anyways sorry ava wasn’t in this one, i just needed to set the scene lol. hope you enjoyed!

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Bachelor

A birthday gift for @bellafarallones. Part 3 of the TAZ Amnesty Bachelor AU (sternclay and indruck were the first two) AKA what Vincent was up to. Apollo is from my Amnesty Super Hero fic

The entire United States to choose from and this is the best the producers could find? He’s going to win this thing with his eyes closed. Then it’s a hop, skip, and jump to some endorsement deals, his own spin-off, and then a prime time hosting slot. 

Oh, and a marriage. But that should be easy; any guy would count themselves lucky to have him.

God, that pool will be great for Instagram shots. Luckily the producers knew their biggest draw when they saw him and agreed to let Indrid continue his work as Apollo’s personal photographer and assistant. He may be a disappointment to the Cold name, but he’s good with a camera and has no interest in being recorded for the show. And if, god forbid, Apollo comes down with a cold during filming, someone will be there to bring him Day-Quil. After all, if he lets anyone see Apollo in a vulnerable state, Apollo will just have to send their father an email about Indrid’s latest failure. 

“It’s times like this we should be grateful for our genes. I know I am.” He glances at his twin, pausing his gaze on his silver hair and tattoos.

“You dye yours too. And I think there are more than a few handsome men here, so don’t get cocky.” His attention shifts for a moment as a man dressed like Smokey the Bear passes them.

“Oh come on, even with those pretentious glasses you can see I’m a cut above.”

“If you say so. And if you want to do shots of you in your suit, we need to start soon, so kindly find your room so we can get on with it.”

--------------------------------------------------

Not only is this easy, it’s fun. The cameras love him, and most of his fellow contestants yield to him after one remark. He’s been watching Vincent, the bachelor for this season, closely during group interactions, and it’s clear he’s already developing favorites. Annoyingly, two in particular--Joseph and Duck--are more inclined to push back at him. But it doesn’t matter; everyone has weaknesses. He’ll find theirs soon. 

Tonight is his first formal date with Vincent. They’re at an Italian place with good lighting, and Vincent is perfectly nice to look at in his lavender dress shirt and silver tie. Apollo’s done his research; Vincent is ten years his senior, took an early retirement from a position in the department of defense and now runs two consulting businesses; one for banks and museums and one for domestic violence shelters, health clinics, and other places where doing good draws enemies. The first business subsidizes the second. Vincent enjoys tennis and running, has no Instagram presence, and is an only child. 

Apollo has his plan of attack; the trouble is, Vincent isn’t interested in sitting there and being flattered (though he does blush when Apollo says the tie makes the grey in his hair look all the more distinguished). He wants to know about Apollo. 

“When you’re not taking photos, what do you like to do?”

He doesn’t correct him about who takes the pictures, smiles, “I, ah, I go to the gym.”

“I have to say it shows.” Vincent winks. It’s so corny, but Apollo can’t find it in him to hate it, “any sports, or just things like weights and cardio?”

‘

“No, but I played football in high school. I was star running back.”

“I played my freshman year, but baseball suited me better. So when you're not ‘pumping iron’, what do you do for fun?”

There is no answer that won’t make him look too shallow or too...no, he can’t even think about that option. Damn it, he must have a normal hobby. He hedges with the truth and hopes the editors cut it for time. 

“I like movies. I, ah, I’ve been working my way through the Criterion Collection of the birth of cinema  and it’s fascinating. Did you know there was a silent film heartthrob who predates Valentino?”

“Sessue Hayakawa?” 

“You know about him?” He leans forward.

“I read a biography of him last year that was riveting. I still have it if you’d like to borrow it.”

“Yes, yes absolutely. We, we could even watch some of his films together, and the ones they inspired, you know they, they…” 

Fuck, he’s acting like Indrid, bumping the table and yammering about things that will get him nowhere. He sits back, grabs his wine and sips to cover his error. 

“I’d like that.” Is all Vincent says as they’re entrees arrive. 

“Enough about me. I was reading about your business and, ah, well, how do you even do something like that?”

Vincent describes his process, how he picks clients and what he considers when evaluating a space. Apollo fully intends to zone out with a smile. 

He hangs on every word. All too soon, Vincent is asking for dessert. 

“Is your meal okay?”

Apollo looks at the plate of spaghetti carbonara he’s been poking at, not wanting to be caught in an ugly expression while eating, “Yes, it’s delicious.”

Dessert arrives in the shape of a chocolate lava cake with sparklers, a detail which delights Vincent. It’s such a ridiculous thing to smile over. Apollo smiles back, and let’s his date feed him a bite of cake. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Was the beach trip self-serving on Vincent’s part? Indeed. Has it also given him valuable intel? Yes, yes it has.

He now knows who’s going home next; Nico is such a fraternity-bred asshole that he should have sent him packing weeks ago. Honestly, all his comments about Barclay this morning were awful. Barclay is masculine and sweet in a way Vincent adores. He even helped Joseph during the cliff dive, which bumps him even higher in Vincent’s eyes. 

Joseph stealthily knocking Nico’s hat from his head with a frisbee was also a high point; goodness, Joseph reminds him of men he used to work with who he never, ever, admitted his feelings for (they were often his subordinates, and he prided himself on keeping a safe department). 

Then there’s Duck. Vincent would like an award for not spending the morning asking to rub sunblock on those arms. He’s been treated to a closer view of them the last half-hour, Duck sitting next to him in a Hawaiin shirt that shows off his biceps. The ranger just now excused himself (“gotta give the other fellas a chance to impress”) to go keep Indrid company during dinner. Polite and friendly to the core, that’s his favorite bear. 

And then there’s-

“Hiiii Vincent.” Apollo slides into the spot closest to him on the restaurant deck. 

Were Vincent choosing for an evening, Apollo would edge out even Duck. He suspects getting the younger man under some comfortable sheets to praise and fuss over him would be very nice indeed. Apollo may posture and insist to the others that he’s the dominant one in the bedroom, but this isn’t Vincent’s first go around; he knows someone who longs to be spoiled and submissive when he sees one.

But he’s here to choose his husband, not a hook-up. 

He initially assumed he’d send Apollo home after their first formal date. He knows these shows sometimes attract people who want their fifteen minutes of fame, and Apollo is one of them. But then his meticulously built image cracked, just a little, as they talked, and Vincent is so taken by what he saw that he can’t bring himself to send him home yet.

The older man slides the younger one an oyster, “try one, they’re local.”

There’s no appealing way to eat an oyster on camera, but Apollo lifts a shell and downs one. He does an excellent job masking his grimace.

“Another? Or would you like one of the grilled scallops instead?”

He watches him run a calculus. Then he slides his sunglasses down, “Scallop, please.”

Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

-------------------------

“Indrid, Vincent hates me!”

Indrid blinks at him.

“One of the other contestants got them to show him a bunch of footage of me putting the other men in their place and now he hates me.” Genuine panic rises in his chest as Indrid gives him absolutely no expression to work from. 

“What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to him, tell him that I’m not-”

“What you actually are? Vincent is here to choose a spouse; he has a right to not choose you.”

“Fix. It.” Apollo snarls.

His twin stands, regarding him from across the rug, “I will speak to Vincent, on one condition; you do not go after Duck ever again.”

“Traitor, you should be on my side, not his.”

Indrid shrugs, sits back down and picks up his book. 

“I’ll, I’ll tell father you’re sabotaging me.”

“You think he’ll like to hear you’re being out done by his inferior son?”

“....Damn it. Fine, fine. I’ll leave Newton alone. Now go.”

His brother has the audacity to grin at him, “I will, right after I finish this chapter.”

---------------------------------------------

He’s sitting with Duck and Joseph, asking their opinion, when Indrid enters the living room.

“Did Apollo send you?” Vincent picks lint from his cardigan. 

“Yes. He’s asking me to intercede on his behalf since he thinks you hate him.”

“Oh dear, I don’t hate him. I just said I was disappointed in him.”

“Ah” Indrid perches on the arm of Duck’s chair, “That’s our father’s code for ‘I hate you.”

“Jesus.” Duck mutters.

“I suspected he was exaggerating. That’s why I agreed to talk to you; I’ve learned it’s best to verify anything  he tells me. In truth, I can’t do much for him.  If it’s not obvious, he takes after our father and our father is...not a good man. We each survive him in our own way; Apollo chose to mold himself into what he demanded we be. That does not excuse him. But perhaps it puts him into perspective.”

Vincent knows he’s not sending Apollo home this week; it’s still Nico’s turn. And his heart that taps his chest to ask, “Do you think he could change?”

Indrid says nothing. Duck is keeping his mouth shut, but his frown suggests his answer.

“This is not to defend him but” Joseph looks at Indrid, “you grew up under the same conditions and chose not to replicate them. That suggests it’s possible.”

“I just didn’t want to end up like him.” Indrid murmurs.

“And ‘possible’ don’t mean probable.” Duck adds.

Vincent rubs his temples, “You’re right. All of you. I...I think I need some time to decide how many chances to be the person I think he can be I ought to give him.”

---------------------------------------

Apollo isn’t sure what to expect. The last time Vincent asked to see him, it was to scold him. Three guys have gone home since then, and he’s been fighting back his impulses to torment and gloat, focusing instead on  making Vincent like him instead of undermining the competition. 

The door opens on a room with a bed, lots of candles, and…

“Is that whale song?”

“Yes. I picked a ‘soothing’ playlist to fit the mood.” Vincent is in linen pants and a button up short sleeve, pats the bed with a smile, “I thought a nice massage might do you good. Non-sexual, of course” he tips his head at the camera.

Apollo isn’t shy. His thirst traps are legendary. But he lays on his stomach the instant he’s down to his underwear. Vincent hums as he starts on his shoulders, checking in now and then about pressure. It would be nice if Apollo’s skin weren’t starving for gentle touches. He keeps letting out pathetic sounds, almost like chirps, as Vincent rubs him down. 

Then the worst thing happens; he gets hard. At first he tries just keeping his hips still but no, just Vincent’s touch is enough. So he tenses in hopes of not giving it away.

“Is it too hard?”

“No, I’m fine.”

The hands leave his skin and he whines like a kicked dog. 

“Would you gentlemen let us do the rest in private? I’m sure the viewers get the point.”

There’s shuffling feet and shutting doors, and then a gentle hand rolling him onto his back.

“Apollo, what’s really--oh. That explains it.” 

He scrambles to sit up, tucking his knees to his chest, “I’m sorry, you said you didn’t want it to be sexual, I didn’t do this on purpose, I swear-”

The bed squeaks along with him as Vincent sits, “Sweetheart, I’m not going to get angry with you for this. If, um, if it helps to know, the feeling is very much mutual.”

It should feel like a triumph, but his cheeks burn and he hides his face against his knees. 

“Does that bother you?”

“No! No, not at all. I wouldn’t be wooing you on T.V if I didn’t think you were attractive. Blech, I sound like one of Indrid’s romance novels. Not, not that there’s anything wrong with Indrid...liking...silly things.”

Vincent cups his face and he leans into it, wants to glue his cheek there, “Apollo, I’ve noticed you’re trying to be less...unkind since our little talk.”

“I’m trying. It’s just so very, very hard.”

“I’ve also noticed you’re letting your persona go now and then. That means a lot to me. I’m not interested in the man you think you should be; I’m interested in the man you might become, the man you are when you stop trying to be better than everyone. I like that man, I’d like to get to know him more.”

Apollo shivers as Vincent kisses his forehead, “I’ll do my best.”

-----------------------

“The nerve of Joseph to say things like that to me!”

Indrid doesn’t look up, “It’s a genuine concern; Vincent is older, there will likely come a time when you’ll be the one caring for him. Are you certain you’ll have the patience for that? Be willing to put your needs and wants on hold for the sake of someone else?”

That’s really what would happen? He, he could do it for Vincent, he’s certain. But could he? What if it’s hard, without glory or gain, does that make it foolish?

He chases those thoughts in dizzying circles for fifteen minutes until they crash into the solution.

“I solved it! I don't have to worry about taking care of Vincent as he ages because he'll divorce me once I reach thirty-two.”

“That is the bleakest possible conclusion.” Indrid flips his sketchbook closed. 

“Just let me have this!”

“I hate that I even have to say this but Vincent is not our father.”

“Father said he was doing what any sensible man would do.”

Indrid levels him with an unusually firm stare, “Do you not want Vincent just because he’s over thirty-two?”

“Of course not! He’s great! I, brother for goodness sake just tell me how to care for him.”

“I literally cannot do that. You have to figure it out for yourself what care looks like for you.”

He’s about to repeat his demand when his phone rings. 

“Hi, Vincent.”

“I'm so sorry, but I have to break our date tonight. I was out for a run and twisted my ankle. I just got back from the doctor; he says I sprained it, so I might be on bed rest a few days.”

Perfect. 

“Oh no, I’m glad it’s not too serious. Would, ah, would it be alright if I came to see you?”

They agree on a time. Then he remembers the problem that preceded the phone call.

“What do I do?”

“What do you want to do for him? Or, if your positions were reversed, him to do for you?” Indrid asks flatly. 

“Call you so he doesn’t see me looking frail.”

“assume I am dead and thus no longer dealing with your nonsense”

“That’s not fair.”

Indrid flops on the bed, “I'm dead, Vincent is the only one who is coming to take care of you, what do you want him to do?”

“Tell me it’s okay and spend time with me and…”

Indrid grins, “And?”

“And watch PBS in bed.”

“It’s a start. Now please get out of my room.”

An hour later he pokes his head into Vincent’s bedroom; the older man is reclining, reading a John Grisham paperback in a robe that makes him look very suave

“How are you feeling?” He sits next to him, rubs his knee. .

 “Oh, I'm fine, just feel a little silly. It used to be I could twist an ankle and come up fine. Aging is quite the adventure.”

“I, um, I'm glad it wasn't too bad. I, I don't like the thought of you getting hurt. Bot that you'd be bad if you did! I accept that we are all very fragile beings trying not to die.

(Too dark, Cold,  pull it back).

“I mean, um, is there anything I can do to help?”

“I'd be happy to have you stay awhile.” Vincent takes his hand, let’s him lean on his shoulder as they talk. They’re midway through a discussion of famous film disasters when a small burst of black and red lands on the windowsill. He doesn’t catch his excitement in time and Vincent asks him what made him perk up. 

With a courage he did not know he possessed, he points to the bird.

“Oh! How beautiful. What kind is it?”

“Scarlet Tanager” he mumbles, “they’re not common here.”

“Do you know a lot about birds?”

He nods. 

“There are some feeders just on that balcony. And I think the binoculars a friend gave me last Christmas are still in the closet, if you’d like to use them.”

“I would” he stands, heart bubbling with terrifying warmth, “thank you, da--ah, dear.”

Mischief sweeps across Vincent’s face, “Is this where you tell me you’ve had lots of older boyfriends?”

“No. I, ah, I’ve made out some but I never dated.”

“Not even a highschool sweetheart?”

“My father made it so no teenager wanted to go near our house. Or us.” The binoculars are magnificent, the best money can buy, “I always wished I had a date to homecoming. It looked so fun, asking someone or getting asked and then having matching outfits and going out to dinner and taking pictures together. I even picked out an outfit just in case someone asked.  I think Indrid snuck out to meet his burnout--, um, meet his friends. I just sat in my room.”

“You could have asked someone yourself, couldn’t you?” Vincent makes room for him on the bed once more. 

 “And risk getting rejected in front of the whole school? No thank you.” He stares at the binoculars, afraid of what he might see if he turns, “I'm sorry, you don't need to hear all this. I’m supposed to be here taking care of you.”

Vincent opens his arms, pulling Apollo into a hug, “You know care can go two ways at once, right?”

“Not really” he mumbles into silver silk.

“Oh, sweetheart.” A kiss on his cheek, hands running soothingly up his sides, and those weak, silly noises slipping from his mouth. 

“I want it to be, I’ll be so good, I’ll take care of you, just please...please say you’d do the same?”

“Of course. That’s what love is.”

He tucks his face against Vincent’s neck, “Will you make fun of me if I say I’m frightened?”

“Never.”

“I don’t know how to do so much of this. I don’t know how much of me can change.”

“Are you willing to try?” Vincent kisses the shell of his ear.

“For you? Yes.”

-------------------------------------------

“I choose…” Vincent looks between Apollo and Jonathan. Apollo cannot wait to spring into his arms. 

“I choose neither.”

“What!” Ned yells off camera.

“I’m sorry to both of you but I simply can’t. Jonathan, you’re a very nice man, but our connection is ultimately lacking. Apollo” Vincent meets his eyes and he forces his gaze to stay placid, “I care for you more than words can say. I know you’ve worked so very hard to change. I also know that people can easily revert to their old, cruel ways under pressure or difficulty. Marriage often involves those things, and I’m not sure you can be the man I need you to be. With those misgivings,  it wouldn’t be fair to propose to either of you. I hope you understand.”

They both say the do, shake hands, give hugs. And he does, he truly does understand. He understands that Vincent made the choice he had to, that even though he got better he is still a rotten, cruel creature who doesn’t deserve him. He was taught he deserved the world; some good that did him. It lost him the only person who might make the world a less miserable place. 

“Apollo!” Vincent jogs after him, catches up to him in an empty hall, “Apollo I-”

His heart is breaking; his old ways twine like vipers around it, “I, I’m glad you didn’t choose me you, you boring, pathetic man. No wonder you have to pay people to go on dates with you! I don’t need anyone, least of all you!”

Vincent steps back, face falling as Apollo storms off. The last thing he hears is, “And here I thought I made the wrong choice.”

---------------------

He deletes his Instagram. Gets a job as a personal shopper. Goes to therapy because he will not let Indrid outshine him when it comes to unlearning how they were raised. 

It helps. Three months after the disastrous finale (for him, not for the network) he’s feeling, if not better, like he might actually try dating someone soon. He also writes two apology letters; one to Indrid and one to Vincent. Then he tears them both up and just tells Indrid that he’s trying to be less of an asshole and that he’s sorry for all the time he was one. He leaves Vincent alone; if he doesn’t want to see him, the least he can do is respect that.

It’s migration season, so he’s hiding in his favorite, super-secret birdwatching spot. It’s near a pond, so lots of birds come to drink and bathe, and he’s seen several on his list. 

Branches crack, sending nearby jays into a flap. Damn it, he’s never seen someone else here; the only person he ever told about it was-

“Hi, Apollo.”

“Vincent!” He almost falls off his stump, “how, why?”

“I’d been meaning to explore this spot ever since you spoke about it. But I, um, was also hoping I might see you in the process. Pathetic, as you might say.”

“I did, didn’t I.” Apollo stares up at him, clutching his binoculars so hard they might become disparate spyglasses, “Vincent, I am so, so, so very sorry for how I acted when we last saw each other. I was hurt, all I want is to make someone else hurt more so I stop feeling so vulnerable and powerless. I, I’ve been working on it in, in” he winces “therapy. You said once that you wanted to meet the man I might be. I realized I wanted to meet him to, to be him, not to win some show or even to get you to like me but just because I don’t want to be the other Apollo anymore.”

Vincent sits next to him, “You don’t give up, do you?”

“I, I just want to un-fuck what I can. I, how have you been?”

“Doing lots of thinking. I still know I made the right call not proposing during the finale. And that I’m ready to start dating again.”

“I hope whoever you go out with knows how lucky they are.” He says without any motive but the truth.

Vincent plucks a late-blooming wildflower and offers it to him, “It’s not a rose, but then again, this isn’t a proposal. It’s just a date, if you still want one.”

“So badly.” 

The older man leans in, kissing him softly as his spine turns to soup, “I’m looking forward to meeting the, um, latest version of you.” He snickers at his own phrasing.

Apollo pulls him into a second kiss, “Me too.”

[sleepy-yn]

Heather- Aone Takanobu

Prompt: Haikyuu boys reacting to you listening to “Heather”  (A/N) I hope you guys enjoy this one. It’s a little long but I wanted it to have context so that you could be in your feels with the character. If you guys wanna see this for another character or even a member of a kpop group I would love to do that for you. Hope you enjoy! Pairing: Aone Takanobu x GN!reader  Warning: AnGst, then fluff :) ALSO NOT PROOFREAD

Your boyfriend was never the most vocal about his feelings. Hell, he wasn't vocal about anything. But his feelings showed in his actions; he would bring you flowers every now and then, you both took care of plants in his room, he always gave in to your hugs. You never had any reason to doubt your relationship with him. That is until she came around. 

It was one of those days that you were free to bring the team lunch after an enduring practice. Usually, Kogane would wink at you and moan out how delicious your food was just to see Aone's reaction. His small blush and harsh glare were enough for you to hug his side and nuzzle your face into him. However, that was not the case for this cold winter evening. 

There was a small scent of baked goods wafting in the air as you approached the gym. Small giggles and the loud laughter of the boys was audible even outside the closed doors. Stepping out of your shoes and into the gym, you could see that the boys were accompanied by a beautiful brunette with eyes as blue as a summer sky. She was standing too close for comfort and it seemed that your boyfriend was blushing.  

"Oi! Y/N, come join us!" Futakuchi exclaimed, drawing Aone and the new girl's attention to you. Your boyfriend starts to make his way towards you but you immediately step out of the doors and excuse yourself, lying about having other things to do. Thankfully you had the food in your backpack so you really had no reason to stay. You could hear the girl's voice even as you walked away, how she kept telling Aone about her small garden in front of her house and how she has a ring with a turtle on top. 

Your heart kept pumping, you could feel it in your throat as if it wanted to jump out. It felt as though there was a gaping hole in the middle of your chest and you couldn't breathe. It was almost a blessing that your house was a bit close to Karasuno. Deciding to stop by and drop off the food you failed to give out, it seemed like a good idea to find another home for it. 

"Oh, y/n-san! What're you doing here?" Hinata jumped up and down, sparkles in his eyes after seeing you. This only made you giggle.

"Y/N this is quite a surprise, a pleasant one at that," Suga said with his kindest smile. You always felt so at home with these boys although you didn't go to the same school. 

Away games were a gift from the gods to push you to make new friends and come out of your comfort zone. Ryuu and Yuu were as energetic as ever and almost pounced on you as soon as you entered the threshold. Daichi's dark aura stopped them, however. You giggled at the boys nonetheless. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were closest to you, you found comfort in the two boys as they were much like you. Yama was a breath of fresh air when he was so smiley and bubbly. Whereas Tsukishima was someone you could have actual conversations with. 

Over the next two weeks, you could see how much Aone and the girl (who you found out was named Miya) were growing closer. He didn't outright ignore you but he was spending a lot of time with her. When he would usually pick you up from your house and walk you to your class, he was already in class listening to her rant about the latest book she read. You were late that day. At lunch, she took your spot at the table. She even had the audacity to include you in the conversation about biology, you didn't have much to add. 

There was this one day that was your breaking point. You decided to watch one of the boys' practices just to see how they were improving. No surprise that she was also there. But then she started to thank your boyfriend for showing her his plants and how cute his stuffed turtle was. He nodded and smiled at her, that's when you noticed a flower in her hair. It was the kind that he usually picked out for you. Feeling the tears blind your vision, you made a bolted to your house.

Shutting your door, you collapsed onto the floor and sobbed for a couple of minutes. The silence was killing you, so you plugged your phone into your speaker and played the same song on repeat. 

But I watch your eyes, as she Walks by What a sight for Sore eyes Brighter than a Blue sky She's got you Mesmerized While I die Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty

The lyrics felt like a stab in the heart, you hated being the second choice. You never wanted to even be a choice. Why couldn't people just pick you, be sure that you were the one they wanted. Your overthinking was going to be the death of you. What if he's more vocal with her what if he's more comfortable with her that he can have an actual conversation with her These thoughts deafened your actual hearing that you couldn't hear the knocking at the door.

You didn't know that Aone had noticed when you arrived, he noticed you run off. You didn't know that he was standing outside your door, listening to every lyric you sobbed to. He had never intended to ever make you feel the way the song says. Guilt had risen in his chest but he knew that he needed to check on you.

You suddenly felt a hand wrap around you and your eyes shot open. There, sitting next to you with the softest puppy dog eyes, was your boyfriend. Pushing him away, you pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around yourself.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts and your heart felt like it was going to pump out of your chest.

You scoff, "Why don't you go talk to your new girlfriend?"

"But you're my girlfriend," you could laugh at how dense he could be, never catching onto sarcastic comments or slang.

"Last I checked Miya had all your attention."

He grunted in understanding and sat there with you on the floor. The silence was hurting you more than you could stand.

"There is nothing going on with Miya and me." "It sure didn't look that way," you burst out. "I don't understand what you mean." His bluntness was almost like a bullet to the chest.

Standing up, you exploded, "How can you not understand? Your eyes are always fixed on her, you obviously gave her flowers, you forgot to pick me up this whole week!" Taking a breath, you continued, "You even showed her our plants!"

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you didn't notice Aone come closer. He wrapped his arms around you and tucked his head in the crook of your neck. He wasn't a stranger to skinship, however, he was never one to initiate it. This made you do a doubletake. You so badly wanted to pull away but his touch was so intoxicating.

"I showed her the flower fields because I needed help picking out the best flowers for our anniversary, I had early practices and didn't have time to pick you up. I had asked her to come to check on the plants because they started to look ill. I hadn't noticed that I was only showing attention to her. I'm sorry."

Your heart melted, immediately feeling guilty for assuming all that stuff about your boyfriend. Returning his hug, you felt him relax under your touch. It seemed as though with just one hug, all your anxiousness and overthinking disappeared.

"I'm sorry for assuming all that stuff," you apologized.

"You don't have to," he let go and held his hands at your waist. "You must be tired of sitting on the floor." Leading you to your bed, he laid down and held you by his side. Your head resting on top of his chest, hands over his beating heart.

This reminded you of all the reasons you loved him. He was always the one by your side. Although he wasn't vocal about how he cared for you, you knew just by the way he holds you. He was home.

[cloudywriter]

i never got to say i love you - 3

honestly no idea how this actually worked out but i did find it in me to pick it up where i had left off. i’ll keep working on this story and see where it goes but i think i have a few ideas. it’s not very long but it’s a start ya know. it looks nice right now too but don’t worry the angst will be there soon. xoxo

masterlist, main masterlist, AO3

~~~

From that fateful night on, Feyre spent all of her free time in the art building’s studio not even returning to her dorm until long after dark. Quite frankly, she was a little embarrassed. She showed up outside of Mor’s door fully prepared to ask her to please quiet down only to be reminded of how ridiculously dressed she was and then to top it all off after that all she did was stare at Rhysand until she ran off stuttering like a fool which was so unlike her. 

She had a close call one afternoon in the dining hall but was able to make a speedy escape. 

Of course, the one time she decided she should work and study somewhere that wasn’t the art studio she ended up in the library. It had been fine until they strutted in, strolling down the center of the library as if it it was a catwalk. A group of girls next to her looked up at them, giggling and blushing, and quickly averted their gazes when Cassian shot them a swift wink. 

Feyre just kept her head down, trying to concentrate on the book of art history in front of her but just knowing he was in the same room as her, that she was in his vicinity had her mind unable to comprehend anything but that fact. Should she just stand up and leave? Would that draw more attention to herself? 

She quickly deduced she could not wiggle her way out of this one. 

Feyre propped up her textbook in hopes it would shield most of her face while she finished up the chapter and then she promised herself she could make her leave. 

The scraping of a chair across the tile floor informed her she was not going to be so lucky. She zoned in on the words in front of her, she was not going to look up.

“Art history,” a voice read aloud.

Feyre looked up and arched an eyebrow at the man in front of her. “Congrats, you can read.”

“Are you an art major?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I could be or maybe I just enjoy a little art history. What are you majoring in making obvious observations?”

“Is that a new major? Because I’ll admit I’d love to take it up,” Cassian commented, crossing his arms and tucking his fist underneath his chin.

Feyre didn’t deign to respond instead she leaned further back in her chair once again focusing on the textbook. 

That was until the remaining members of the trio wandered up to Feyre’s table as well.

Cassian turned around a little and gestured to Feyre, “Hey guys, I’m just hanging with my girl, Fey. You know, the one who came to yell at us last week and then drooled over Rhys.”

Feyre slammed her book flat on the table, “I did not drool!”

Cassian shrugged, “I don’t know I think I had to whip up a few drops after you left.” 

Feyre just knew her bright red face betrayed her. 

Rhys only laughed, a deep, sultry laugh that sounded the way expensive velvet felt. “It’s alright Feyre, darling, I’m used to it obviously.”

“Oh, don’t call me darling,” Feyre sighed, burying her face in her hands. Rhysand only smirked in response, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk. 

Azriel and Cassian were hunched over, studying something on Cassian’s phone while Feyre desperately tried to pretend they weren’t there. Rhys kept on drumming his fingers, completely disrupting Feyre, to be fair she was dyslexic and she required quiet in order to sit and read. 

Feyre reached out her hand, holding a pencil, and wacked Rhysand’s fingers. “Stop it!” She whisper-yelled at him. 

“Feyre, darling, you wound me,” he purred, leaning back to slip his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. On almost anyone else Feyre would’ve thought the leather jacket looked stupid but it just worked on Rhysand. 

Rhysand was quiet for a moment when he spoke back up, “What does one do with an art degree?” 

Feyre lifted her eyes from the page in front of her, “Gods, you sound like my sister.”

Rhys cracked a smile at that, “I don’t mean it in a negative way, of course, just curious.” 

“I just want to spend the rest of my life doing something I love and I happen to love painting. I know it's not the standard but I wouldn’t be happy in a 9 to 5 desk job,” Feyre explained. 

Rhys nodded, he looked as though that statement had resonated with him.

At that moment both Cassian and Azriel stood up, “Hey, Rhys, Mor is texting us that she wants to meet at Rita’s for lunch. You coming?” 

Feyre glanced up, making direct eye contact with Rhys, “No,” he says in a husky voice, still looking into her eyes, “I think I’ll stay.” Feyre concentrates on her book again, a small, secret smile poised on her lips. Cassian and Azriel make their exit with knowing glances passed between them. 

Cassian and Azriel had only been gone for around five minutes, Feyre was trying her hardest to appear unruffled by Rhysand’s presence, her eyes glued to her book though they weren’t reading a thing. Rhys then broke the silence, “Are you hungry?” 

Feyre raised an eyebrow, “Are you?”

“Famished.”

“Strange, pretty sure I saw you turn down an invite to lunch a few minutes ago,” she replied simply. 

“I go to lunch everyday with Az, Mor, and Cas, but I don’t go to lunch with you, Feyre, darling. I thought I might switch it up.”

Feyre gave him her best unimpressed expression even though her heart was pumping in her chest. “You’re a shameless flirt.” 

“Well, what do you say?”

Despite Feyre finding Rhysand annoyingly attractive she was hesitant to accept his invitation. She had just transferred schools, she was in the market for some friends, but the haunting memory of her failed relationship crept in like a spider knitting a web of doubt. 

Feyre banished that spider, “Fine.”

+++

Rhys had taken Feyre to a cute little coffee shop that served the best sandwiches in Prythian as Rhysand had claimed. Feyre didn’t have any room to disagree. Their conversation came easy, it felt natural, not stiff like the beginning of most budding friendships. They argued, joked, and even poked fun at each other the entire time. 

Rhysand continued with his brazen, flirty attitude and persistent usage of the endearment ‘darling’ much to Feyre’s dismay. It was irritating but charming, it just seemed to be wholly Rhys. 

Now, Rhys and Feyre were walking side by side back towards the dorm buildings. The conversation proceeded to flow easily. When they were about to enter the courtyard adjoining the separate dorm buildings, Rhys flopped onto a bench just a little ways off the sideway. Feyre raised her eyebrow at him. 

“Sit, darling. All this walking after eating and I’ll get a cramp,” he reasoned. 

Feyre rolled her eyes, it certainly wasn’t that but she entertained him. She took a spot a little bit down the bench from him and leaned her head back, staring up at the tree overhead and the afternoon sun beaming through its leaves. 

A question popped into Feyre’s mind and she pivoted towards Rhys, “What are you majoring in?”

Rhys’s beautiful face turned into a grimace as he turned his attention from the same tree back to her. 

“Business,” he finally supplied.

“You seem disappointed by that,” Feyre commented. Rhysand looked away as his head bobbed in a noncommittal yes. 

“I wanted to major in English, really. I love books, stories, even poetry as mind boggling as it may be sometimes,” Rhys let out a small chuckle, mostly to himself. “I love language too, the way you can manipulate and articulate it, it’s remarkable. I would be more than content to pour over books the rest of my life or share my passion for stories and language with others.”

“Then why do business?” Feyre knew she was probably prying but her curious nature always got the best of her. 

“My father,” Rhys admitted. “He’s a businessman you know, convinced it's always the way to go whether you truly enjoy it or not. Doesn’t matter if you’re happy if you have a stable job and are making good money in his eyes. Not to mention, he demands I work with him at his company after school. I lost the will to fight him on it, just easier to appease him at this point. Books will still be there.”

Feyre let the words hang in the air between them. She knew, of course, the feeling of being unsupported but still her family hadn’t forced her hand. Feyre reached out, resting her hand lightly over Rhysand’s in silent support while still giving him the option to pull away. 

He didn’t. He wrapped her small hand in his own and turned his head toward her. 

The wind tousled his black hair back and forth with each turn of its direction. In the sun’s light his eyes were bright, framed by thick lashes. Feyre wished she could freeze time and pull out her paints to capture the image. The overwhelming desire to do so took Feyre by surprise. Since leaving for Velaris that deep yearning to paint a particular scene, a moment of inspiration so strong it paralyzed her, hadn’t been prominent. Truly, it hadn’t been there for a while. She usually had to force out a drawing or painting for an assignment. 

Then Rhys gave her a gentle smile, it looked how Feyre imagined touching clouds would feel. It brought a funny feeling to her stomach. 

“Do what makes you happy, Rhys, always,” she added so quietly she thought her words might’ve been blown away by the breeze before they even reached his ears. 

Yet, Rhys squeezed her hand the smallest bit. 

~~~

well this is for you @maybekindasortaace​

let me know if you wanted to be added to my feysand taglist or my rowaelin taglist or both, ya know 

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Nsfw headcanons for the Obey Me boys with a dom reader?

I’m so gonna regret this, but, as I had to do some...Educating (reading online ofc)...I hope this is actually okay and that I didn’t disappoint!

I will be using the “ Asmo Time “ (hope it’s not already taken or something) for any NSFW writing, I guess :D

Also, sorry for not actually writing for everyone, but rn I can’t really stand Belphegor, and I have a hard time coming up with something different for Beel, despite liking him a lot =/

So...Without further writing...

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

----

Lucifer

Normally, this guy wouldn’t, for the hell of it, let you dom, because obviously...He is THE Sadistic Dom Top!

But today is your birthday, your once in a lifetime opportunity, your lucky day to experience what’s it like to have Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, look up at you with lust and need in his eyes, squirming so much in hope of release and biting his lip to stop his moans and will to beg, because of his pride not to step so low, so much that he draws blood unintentionally.

You tie his hands apart on the bed post, blindfold him, take his pants off and unbutton his shirt, all while talking in such a firm yet alluring voice that he almost doesn’t recognise you.

His dick is up before you even get to touch his skin.

You kept a feather from his wings from some time ago, and now it’s the perfect opportunity to tease him.

You softly trace his neck, down to his chest, and to his abdomen, until you reach the line of his boxers, where you just let the trail just barely touch his, and you can see his body arching slightly as it followed the feather, and a soft growl erupts from his throat.

“What is it, darling~? Do you want me to touch you that badly? Why, then, you’ll just have to ask me oh so very nicely for it, don’t you think~? Do you deserve to be touched by me, I wonder?” you tease him SO much, because honestly, he deserves every little bit of it.

You trace his lips with your thumb, and then lift up his chin and make your lips barely brush his, as you say “You don’t get to cum unless I say so, okay, darling? Otherwise...There will be consequences.”

“You will have a lot to pay after this day is over, MC.” he threatens, but you slap his face, before you put your hand on his throat. “Did I allow you to speak, Lucifer? No? That’s what I thought. Now, now, how to punish you, I wonder...” you would giggle darkly as you get out his riding crop and start tracing his chest and abdomen, until you hit the inner side of his thigh, making him squirm and barely hold in a groan of pleasure, as blood started to come out of his lip.

You finally take off his boxers, letting his erection stand tall, and you straddle his waist, grinding yourself on it, letting your wetness drive him crazy, as you roam your hand up and down his body, occasionally touching his erogenous zones, biting his neck, choking him or making him suck on your fingers, and in the end it was all so much, that he came without realising, not able to hold in his moan anymore.

You merely hummed in amusement, wiping away the cum and tutting in disappointment as you take off his blindfold and look at him with a mock-upset look.

“What a naughty boy you’ve been...Disobeying your Mistress...Tsk tsk, guess you really need a great dose of discipline.” you put his dick inside you as you leaned in and started biting and tugging at his bottom lip, licking away all the blood, before sitting tall again, tracing your tongue over your lips with an amused face. “Your blood is really sweet, Lucifer.”

Your ride him dangerously slow, teasing him with more dirty and teasing words, until you’ve had enough and wanted to cum yourself, and you changed the pace, touching yourself, being on display, enjoying the torture that he can’t touch you.

This goes on for the rest of the right...Until midnight comes and your birthday is no more, and his smirk is so huge and evil, knowing that you’re really gonna regret (and enjoy) your little day of indulging in your fantasies.

---

Mammon

Mammon is already a switch very close to a Big Bottom Energy, so it’s really not all that difficult for you to take the reigns and dominate him, he will really enjoy it anyways.

He’s normally one for very soft and gentle love-making, not exactly into the whole inflicting pain thing, mostly wanting to having HIS MC close to him, feeling your body touching his and all that, but once in a while, he doesn’t mind letting you have your fun with him, whatever it is that you want.

Honestly, if you deprive him the possibility of touching you, he’s gonna be so whiny and pouty, so you better punish him so he will stop being such a baby.

Choke him, tie him up, talk filth to him, take his hands and suck on his fingers while straddling his waist and grinding on his erection through the fabric of his boxers, tease him while you guide his hands up and down your own body, you name it, he will do anything you want, especially if it pleases you.

But...Seeing you suck on his fingers with that expression of lust in your eyes, while you veeeery slowly rock your bottom part back and forth...

He’s gonna be SO loud, whining, panting, moaning your name, you think the whole Devildom will know that you’re the one that’s making him such a mess under you.

“Mammon, dear, you should be more quiet, or else the whole house is gonna hear you. We wouldn’t want Lucifer barging in...Or would you...~?...Oh, I should shut you up myself.” your devilish grin could put even Lucifer in his place.

You face sit him, letting him eat you out until you’ve reached your orgasm, all while guiding his hands where you wanted, and making him lick you clean, because he’s a real good boy.

“What a good boy, Mammon, I think you’ve earned a little prize for today. Do you want it, Mammon? Tell me what you want.” you grin as you tease him even more, making him whimper, his eyes glistering with tears from the teasing.

“P-Please let me cum, M-Mistress!” he’d moan as you already put his dick in you and started bouncing up and down, rewarding the both of you.

---

Leviathan

HUGE SUB ENERGY!!!

You’re his Mistress and he will obey your every need, every wish, anything, with no protest, except his burning face, poor dear.

He is okay with topping and bottoming, but now you want to tease him by only allowing him to do what you say, with no exception.

“Come on, Levi, take off my clothes.” , “Let me guide your hands, Levi. You need me for even that.” , “Be a good boy and make me cum. If you do, I may think of letting you too, today.”

Hearing you speak like that will get him so eager to be the good boy you keep praising him that he is.

Will finger you while licking and sucking at your clit, wanting to put off the best performance he can, doing all the filth that he’s seen in his hentais, wanting to hear more praise, and your moans and telling him to go on, the tugging on his hair...

He’s so into it that he almost forgets about how painful his erection actually is, especially covered by his boxers and pants.

After he makes you cum, you tell him to lay down and you take off his clothes, tie his hands to the bed post, putting your hand around his shaft and slowly pumping up and down, holding eye contact and enjoying every little moan, whimper, groan and twitch of his body.

When you start licking the tip, you can already feel the salty taste of precum - which each lick, each provocative smirk, graze of your teeth against his sensitive skin and veins, with each moan you let out, he’s so close...

But you don’t let him. 

You move away from him, leaving him a panting and begging mess, almost crying, saying how it’s not fair what you’re doing...But how could you not edge such a cute boy? Especially when he can’t touch himself?

So you take your phone and put on an episode of TSL, while you sit comfortably on his chest, not letting him watch it, only hear, and he’s so bratty, it’s adorable.

When you’ve had enough fun teasing him, you take off the restraints and tell him to get on top, in the “Glowing Triangle” position, which is basically teasing him that he’s in control, but you’re the one who controls the thrusts and speed of it.

And what better way to continue teasing him with touches down his spine, pinching nipples and leaving love bites all over his body than this one~?

---

Satan

It was during the Butler event, where he kept calling you Mistress and he made it a personal competition to be the best Butler from the 7 brothers, but even so, it was obvious he’d attend to your every need without a second thought.

You, however, decided to mess with him quite a lot, so while he brought you some tea and you took a sip from it, making sure it’s not too hot, you told him to kneel down in front of you, order to which he immediately submitted, and you poured the tea from your thigh down to your ankle, with a mock-gasp.

“Oh no, I spilled the tea, how awfully clumsy of me! Satan, would you be a dear and clean up this mess for me~?” you lean back in the seat of the armchair you were sitting in, and raised your leg up, leaning your head on your hand, looking down at him with a condescending expression.

“Certainly, My Lady. I live to serve My Lady, so My Mistress’  words are my command.” he replies with a smug smile, as he started kissing, licking and leaving soft love bites from your foot, all the way up to your inner thigh, which he put on his shoulder, and looked at you with an obviously fake expression

“What else would My Mistress want me to do for her?” he asked, definitely enjoying this as much as you did.

He’s a God at eating you our and driving you crazy, and he obviously enjoyed pleasuring you so much, now being the perfect opportunity to see you in all the perfect light, a dominating Goddess, the only one who could ever tell him what to do.

When you’re done with that, pull on his hair until he’s to your eye level, pin him down on the armchair and start leaving love bites, from his jawline, to his neck, down to the chest, abdomen, teasing him just as you get to his dick.

Give the tip of his erection a kiss, a lick, let it wet, and then blow on it, and watch the way Satan grits his teeth in desperation, feeling exposed and unable to take away this feeling of need.

“Have you been a good slave, Satan?” you ask, as he licks his lips in anticipation.

“Yes, Mistress, I would sure hope so.” he asks, doing his best not to break character, as he’d just want to grab you and fuck you on the spot, but his ego doesn’t let him.

Lucky him, you were more merciful today, and with a sly smirk on your face, you take him in so fast that his snaps his head back with a groan, and your fast pace is so torturous yet so good that he finds himself lost in another world, and his sweet release is the best he’s ever had.

---

Asmodeus

He doesn’t care if you’re a dom or a sub, a top or a bottom, he just wants to enjoy himself and you, so who cares? Have fun, girl, go all in, do all your fantasies, he’s the perfect man to experience them with!

Put him on a leash and tell him to be a little obedient slave, and he’s already a mess below you.

He’ll be so needy and would beg all the time for you to touch him and do what you want with him, to fuck him, to punish him, to make him forget his name and the world around him.

He’s not the Avatar of Lust after all, correct~?

“Aww, Asmo, look at you. You look so good with that collar around your neck, and you staying on your knees at my feet...I might actually think of having you wear that every day from now on, just so you don’t forget who you belong to.” you threaten with a sweet smile, as you grab his collar and pull him to your eye level.

You’d have had him on a chastity belt for just a few days, and now that you took it off, he was finally feeling better, so eager for you to touch and punish him in any way (as long as you don’t do anything to his precious face)

Whip him as much as you like, bring the riding crop, get the hitachi wand and edge him, leave bite marks all over his body, all while making sure he doesn’t touch you or himself, otherwise he’s gonna just suffer even more.

He’ll moan and scream out your name even louder than Mammon, he has literally no shame or inhibitions, he just wants to let himself get lost in pleasure and emotion, and knowing it’s you who’s doing everything to him...Even hotter.

Edge him as many times as you feel like, only letting him cum after he’s done as much begging as you want, and when he’s crying from the need for release, and after that, he’ll feel like on Cloud 9, so happy that he’s lost his mind.

Obviously, he’s going to return the favour some day, but for now, he loves being your slave and seeing you so full of confidence, enjoying yourself as you’re using him to feel pleasure.

[awhilde]

stupid

pairings: kaeya (genshin impact) x reader

genre(s): just pure fluff! 

warnings: swearing and minor (tiny) mentions of death. also, it would be advised to play the game ‘genshin impact’ up past adventure rank 10 because there are a few spoilers (?) and mentions of specific scenes. 

word count: 2.6k words

synopsis: in which you can’t stand the stupid ice man that seems to trail after your every move, infuriating with every word that falls from his lips, every curve of his mouth and every tilt of his head. the pure annoyance he gifts you makes your chest ache in exhaustion. i mean, that is the sole reason why your heart is pumping overdrive, right?  

author’s note: this is just a really quick, cheesy and plotless oneshot that i decided to write in under an hour, i think? if i’m being honest, i just wanted to see what my page would look like with something published, but please enjoy regardless! god i’m simping for kaeya even though genshin is literally not an otome game what ?? gave them the right to make him look so good??

a harmless tune twinkles in the city’s atmosphere, sorrowful tales hidden behind the cheer of a folk song and the strum of a harp

you listen, leaning against an open window, letting the gentle breeze tousle your hair behind your ears, drinking in the refreshing sensation of the wind kissing your closed eyes and exposed face. the suffocating atmosphere of the library leaves you as you daydream with the hum of the melody and lose yourself in its rhythm

  the scent of the storm last night taunts your mind of a nostalgic memory, easing the growing beast of worry in your heart

  the thought reminds you of the cause of such worry and you sigh reluctantly, knowing the pile of research notes by your desk wouldn’t sign themselves as you wasted time by this pocket of air, but your limbs are frozen, leisurely leaning against the frame of the window. you allow for time to flow unrestricted past your consciousness for there might not be another opportunity in the near future when you could relax as you did now

  life couldn’t possibly be contained within stress and work. you’d combust if this was the prevailing knowledge, collapsing from overworking your body or perhaps even dying from high blood pressure in your late 20’s which crept closer as time went by

where had your teenage years gone? the thrill of adventure and death?

“something on your mind, name?”

your eyes snap open, body whisking around to face the man that had managed to sneak up to your side without your notice. you recognise the presence beside you long before your eyes had laid upon their figure for they had been your partner in crime for far too long for you not to adapt to his chilly atmosphere

at least he was nice to be around in summer

kaeya, that infuriating ice man that had insisted on growing closer towards you despite the only connection you two shared being the fact that jean enjoyed tormenting you and placing the two of you together in missions

he had made his way to your right, contrasting your position as he leaned his back against the wall whilst you leaned your front torso out the window. suddenly the wind was nothing compared to him. with his arms crossed at his front, he gives you a side-long glance and smirks at your expression

huffing you turn away. “what do you want now, kaeya?” you ask

“what is with this hostility?” he shoots back. “don’t tell me i actually surprised you by being here.”

 your silence was enough of an answer for him to brighten. “wait, for real?”

you groan, cheek in your palm as you continue to close your eyes. “go away, kaeya, if you’re just here to make fun of me. go bother someone else, hasn’t there been a traveller of sorts that’s appeared recently?”

kaeya hums. “yeah, what about them?”

“go send them on a wild goose chase or something. didn’t you do that to the other one that passed by?” this time, you steal a peak at him through one eye. despite this being a small movement, kaeya’s immediately chases your eye.

ah, there’s that stupid sneer of his that you couldn’t stand. the sight was as familiar as the sun’s touch having seen it everywhere; after freezing jean’s feet to the ground when she got “too boring”, when he’d freeze the walls of your office in order to chase you out of the room and when he’d won that stupid game in that one stupid festival when they’d finished a mission early, turning with that exact sneer, his eyes steady and wild on yours as he handed you the first prize gift, not failing to bow as he presented the toy to you. that stupid pink bunny still sat somewhere in your room, not treasured but simply looked after. it wasn’t a significant item to be cherished after all

“i already did.” he had been saying when you zoned out. “i told them there was a mysterious treasure and sent them off. that little thing they had with them was especially keen on getting her small hands on whatever it was. shame there was nothing there to begin with, just another plan to draw out the futoi rats but i would have liked to see what that little thing could do with immense power. eat exotic foods, maybe?”

his eyes dart back to yours when he didn’t receive the response he expected; silence, and turns to face you. your eyes had gone glassy whilst in the process of reminiscing and he knew you were no longer in the present time. he sighs and stands

you catch the movement and snap back to reality, blinking before narrowing your eyes at his stupid face. “you have a look in your eyes.” you observe hesitantly

“and you weren’t paying attention to anything i said.” he retorts. he leans forward with his arms still crossed as if attempting to examine you further. the proximity startles you and you take a step back on instinct

the action makes him raise an eyebrow. “you’re also surprisingly quiet and grumpy today.”

wow you both are so good at stating the very obvious

it was true, despite hating his guts you couldn’t deny the spark of chemistry between the both of him whether it be dancing on the battlefield or even the snarky banter that he oddly seemed to enjoy. in an attempt to cover up where you had lacked, you face the window again. for some reason, it was easier to talk to him when you weren’t confronted with his stupid face. “oh? aren’t you glad i haven’t remarked on that stupid eyepatch you wear yet? unless, of course, you agree completely with what i say about it which, y’know, is the objective truth. it couldn’t possibly have been inherited. and its ugly.”

“nope! just as the title of being a pirate has been passed down in my family generation, so has the need to wear an eyepatch.” he cheerfully responds. “nice try, name, but i can still tell that you’re feeling down. you gonna tell me what it is or are we gonna continue this act until you grow bore of it?”

you sigh, caught in your façade that you had sub-consciously put up as a defense mechanism. not that he had no know what it was. something stupid in your stomach explodes with warmth at his prying, but you can’t hate it. that same stupid thing brings you to face him again and you regret it as soon as your eyes meet

he had stepped closer, close enough for you to feel his chill through the fabric of your clothes, close enough to see the fur on his attire rustle from the breeze by the window, his hair tousling also, close enough for your eyes to become captivated from his

well, his one eye

singular

eye

you chuckle slightly, the sound bubbling from the back of your throat until its pouring out without limit. you bend over, still giggling and the force makes you stumble. but its hilarious, does he wink or blink? omg imagine if he seductively winks but it just looks like he’s well, blinking

kaeya is taken back by your giggles but his incredulous stare doesn’t manage to stop the endless wave of laughter that causes tears to form at your eye, and your cheeks to begin to ache. it would hurt his reputation severely if he’d attempt to cheekily wink only to have the receiver no clue on what he was doing

god, you can’t believe you love this stupid boy

your laughter halts almost immediately

 …

love?

you don’t love him

why would you even consider that you liked him? he was a major pain in the ass, always bothering you when you worked, always messing around, always teasing you

right, you had just been so caught up in your laughter that it convinced your mind that the endorphins that had been released was due to kaeya, but it wasn’t. you don’t feel that way about him, you had just found his appearance hilarious

right

kaeya raises another eyebrow at you. “right, are you feeling okay? maybe we should ask jean for you to take a break.” he mumbles the last part as if it was an after thought but you hear it anyways

you turn away from him and begin walking back to your office. you knew he would follow after you and he does, his footsteps echoing your own until he is walking beside you, synced in your movements. “i’m not even that busy, stop exaggerating.” you step is bouncier, your fit of laughter at fault for your raised mood

“maybe not but you’re certainly boring.”

“your idea of fun is literally drinking with dilluc and making jean mad. maybe you shouldn’t be the one telling me if i’m boring?”

“so you’re not gonna deny it?’

“i like to think i take every one of my flaws into my stride. it would be even more embarrassing if someone didn’t know how much they sucked. like say, didn’t know how stupid they looked with an eyepatch?” you stick out your tongue at him and pulled down your eye. “pirate headass.”

he laughs as if you said something funny, but along the way you laugh with him

the sound of your laughs merging together, fuelling each other on, sound like music to your ears, a clearer tune than the only floating around the city, prettier than the twinkle of bells and bird song. it sounded familiar, like home, like watching rain dance on a windowpane, like heating your hands on a warm drink

“good to know your only insult of me is my eyepatch.” he says after your chuckles die

“and how is that a good thing?”

he sneaks a glance at you before looking start forward

“it means i must look practically perfect in your eyes, save for my apparently odd fashion sense. careful, name, or you’ll somehow manage to confess to me without your own knowledge.”

you splutter as he finishes, for some reason feeling defensive. “what the fuck do you mean by that?”

“well, you’re complimenting me, no? every other aspect of me are too good to insult?” the pair of you approach the doors to your office and his face lights up, mind clearly departing his last thought. “ah! we’re here. wait, why are we here again?” despite his words, he steps forward to enter your room, neither stopping to check if he had your permission nor to see if you were going insideyou narrowly miss the door as you unfreeze and dash in after him

he had already made his way to the back corner of the room, observing the shelf you had placed beside your desk. the shelves contained items that you held dear to you, the pair of earrings your aunt had gifted you before her demise, a book that you particularly enjoyed when you were younger, a stick figure of an old cartoon mascot back when you were only a child and so much more. it aided in providing you a relief of stress in your times of need. they were delicate and of upmost importance, items you placed dangerously close to your heart. but for some reason, you didn’t mind that kaeya were looking at them now  

you knew he wouldn’t break them, he wouldn’t be in such a high position of the knights if he was clumsy

instead, your mind travels back in time to what he had said so carelessly before he had entered the room

complimenting him? how absolutely ridiculous. saying his eyepatch made him look uglier was by no means a compliment, not even a twisted one. sure, it may infer that without it he would look much better, but this didn’t mean you would find him attractive without it, what a delusion. and in truth, kaeya treated it as if you were being serious which you weren’t, really. it wasn’t as ugly as you made it sound, you actually thought he suited it quite well.

wait a minute, what were you saying? perhaps kaeya had simply wanted to use reverse psychology on you and twist your very thoughts

well, he almost succeeded, you’ll give him that

“oh? what is this?”

his voice brings you back to reality and you realise with a start that you recognised the thing he was holding in his hand, the source of his question and the reason why the room appeared so much hotter than it had been before

in his hand, he held that stupid pink bunny

his eyes search yours in question, that stupid, stupid sneer on his face once more. it was clear he expected an answer, but you gave him none, instead staring him down with your eyes, feeling hot on your cheeks

“i think i remember this plushy, wasn’t it-“

your limbs move before your mind registers them, arm reaching out and activating your element, anemo, and calling upon the power to have your treasure returned to you

the green appears circling green whisps around the pink fur, growing clearer in appearance every passing millisecond before the entire toy is succumbed with the air

a small explosion follows after the orb, zapping kaeya’s hand, causing him to lose his gentle hold

the bunny falls to the ground, millimetres away from the carpet when you pull it towards you with your anemo  

when it finally enters your grasp, you wrap both arms around the bunny and draw it towards your heart, angling your body defensively, hiding it from his stare. “don’t say a single thing.” you warn him, but you know he wouldn’t ever leave you alone now

his eyes stare down at the palm that had been holding the toy before looking back up at you. “you just… used your anemo on me.”

“i did.”

his shell-shocked expression withdraws on his face, a small smile on his lips that was neither the shit-eating grin that he usually wore nor the stupid sneer. it looked sincere. and like he came to a sudden realisation. like something was confirmed

you open your mouth to say more, deny more perhaps yet you wouldn’t know what would come out of your mouth at that moment for your door bursts open, you and kaeya reacting immediately with your respective elements in hands, you only using one as you continue to hug the stuffed toy. an oddly familiar figure appears at the door, clad in white and with bright blonde hair. after the unknown individual, a small human floats after them. at the sight of the two, kaeya relaxes which prompts you to do so as well. ah, now you realised where you had seen them before, they were the iconic traveller

“what are you doing here?” kaeya asks for you. something in his tone is guarded

the small creature, paimon as you remember, speaks first. “we’ve come to ask for a hint! you said you’d help us solve riddles, remember? for the super cool, super wicked sword?” her small head turns to you as if acknowledging you for the first time. “oh, were we interrupting something?”

you raise an eyebrow. “nice to meet you too, i’m name. how did you find this place?”

paimon shrugs. “a knight told us that if we couldn’t find kaeya, we should check in this room.”

those words made the warm icky feeling in your chest expand. you clear your throat as you sense both kaeya’s and paimon’s eyes on you, the traveller oddly not saying a word and staring off into the distance. as subtly as you could, you place the toy behind your back and down on another shelf, reminding yourself to relocate it once whatever kaeya was planning at had finished

“well, show us the riddle then.” you say, ignoring the fuzzy feeling in your chest when kaeya joins the circle the five of you made, surrounding the item in the traveller’s hand and, you cursed, far too close to your right

your arm grazes one another as you shift closer for a better look

but you swallow the feeling deep down and look up to meet the traveller’s eyes. “well, i have a clue what this could mean.” you say, contrasting all the pacing thoughts in your head, casting aside the want to kick the two intruders from your room, to confront kaeya with the emotions you’ve been feeling around him, to possibly cry at the overwhelming truth of it all, that you did love him

but they became only thoughts, visible only in your mind

this world wasn’t suit for romance, not when there was a dragon terrorising the city, not when the gods were angry, not when you hadn’t confirmed if kaeya feels the same way

so you bury your newfound feelings, smiling gently at the traveller as you share what you knew with them, ignoring the present sensation of kaeya by your side, hoping that by the time you had collected yourself, you would be able to hide these foreign feelings

from his stupid face

[marvelfansince08love]

The Pleasure is all mine - Chapter 5

Word count: 3601 

Pairing: Lou Miller x Female!Reader 

Warning: NSFW 18+... Lou about to break her first date rule ya’ll. Also sorry for my crap smut writing, my brain did the big gay and fried while writing this.

A/N: I’m so sorry for the late update, works kicking my ass as usual but I had a rare day off this week! Enjoy my loves! Your comments fuel my gay heart, thank you for supporting me and my stories! 

Thank you @imnotasuperhero for checking my grammar and spelling because I was too lazy and possibly had heat stroke to go back through this lmao x

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @redcrete @5aftermidnight @iamheartless @deadly-darling @gaylorrds​ @smuttty​ @existentialcrisiscat​ @saucy-sapphic​ @saramas0011 @the-enamorando-deity​ 

I do not own this gif x 

Chapter 5

Needy bodies stumble into each other with rushed caresses; narrowly avoiding prized objects on the expensive shelves of Lou’s hallway, desperate lips battle for dominance over one another, loud moans echo throughout the converted warehouse. Lou reaches her hands around my thighs and pulls me closer to her slightly, indicating for me to wrap my legs around her waist while she carries me towards her bedroom. We kiss blindly while my hands thread through her hair wanting to keep her close. 

“Wait, the others aren’t here tonight are they?” I ask while pulling back slightly, all too aware of those sneaky con artists. 

“Of course not! Tammy and Debbie are at Tam’s tonight and the others have stuff going on. God I want you so bad Y/N, you drive me crazy.” Lou murmurs breathlessly, her hands squeezing my ass almost teasingly. I giggle quietly before leaning forward capturing her earlobe in between my teeth nibbling gently making her moan deeply. I feel one of Lou’s hands move away from my ass and fumble slightly as I feel a solid door on my back briefly. With a soft click of the door handle we enter her dark room that’s only lit by the soft glow of the moonlight, Lou carries me towards her bed striding with such purpose and need, making me shiver in anticipation. 

She places me onto her king-sized bed with a soft bounce making us both giggle out loud, feeling giddy.  Her lips are back on me in an instant trailing soft wet kisses leaving no inch of skin left untouched down my neck towards the small amount of exposed chest. Her eyes lock with mine briefly as if asking for permission to continue, my heart swells at her thoughtfulness. I bring both my hands up to cup her face before kissing her deeply, pouring every single emotion into it. That seems to give her the courage to continue, her hands slowly caress my sides up towards my breasts, taking my top with her as she moves further up, exposing my stomach and bra. I gasp slightly as the cool air hits my skin making Lou hum appreciatively at the sight of me under her, crystal blue eyes darkened with lust as she places a delicate kiss near my navel making me squirm slightly, she chuckles quietly and looks up towards me through hooded eyes. 

“I could get used to this… god you look so beautiful under me,” she whispers softly, her warm breath hitting my skin making me groan in frustration at her slow approach. 

Even if it makes me melt and fall in love with her a little bit more.

“Lou Miller, if you don’t get rid of my pants right now and fuck me I’ll do it myself.” I whine, pouting slightly, her eyebrow raises as she grins wide at me amused by my demands. 

Okay so I might still be slightly drunk on that tasty Italian wine. 

I blush slightly at my behaviour and shrug my shoulders slightly in a ‘sorry not sorry’ response. Lou shakes her head in amusement and slight admiration while biting gently on my hip in response, making me yelp and moan at the sensation. Before I could make a quip remark I hear the sound of my zipper and feel my jeans and panties being pulled down to my ankles and onto the floor in one swift move. I gasp at the feel of her lips on my inner thigh, sucking at the sensitive skin before licking over it making me clench my thighs  briefly leading Lou to gently place her hands on either side of my knees, pulling them apart. 

“Baby, you clench around me like that and I’m not gonna last long,” she muses before going back to work on my inner thigh, drawing out hickeys like she’s making a piece of art. She pulls away slightly sitting up onto her knees. I frown whimpering at the loss of her touch while she smirks keeping her eyes locked onto mine. Lou takes a hold of her shirt before pulling it over her head, I go to move my hands towards her leather pants wanting her skin against mine, needing her close. Once my hands reach the top of her leather pants I make quick work of removing them, leaving her in just her bra and briefs making me moan at the sight. We both launch at each other like starved animals, desperate wet kisses and needy hands trying to touch every inch of skin available. 

Lou pushes me into the bed and settles in between them, her hand cups over my bra squeezing gently, her mouth heading south towards my wet heat. She exhales delicately over my sensitive clit making me squirm  before pressing her tongue flat between my folds making me moan loudly. 

“Oh, fuck Lou!”

She moans as she laps at my wetness, her tongue dipping in and out of my entrance as she continues to fuck me with her mouth. My hands grip her hair trying to keep her close as I rock my hips into her mouth. She snakes a hand between my legs and rubs her thumb gently over my clit while working me up with her tongue. I feel the knot low in my navel clench before loosening, making me relax into the soft mattress and purr ever so slightly as I ride gently against Lou’s skilful tongue letting my orgasm ride out against her. I sigh contently while Lou kisses her way up my body, her forearms on either side of my head as she brushes her nose against mine. I peck her lips briefly before looking coyly at her through my lashes. 

“I wanna know what you taste like,” I whisper, voice huskier dripping with sex. I watch as her eyelids close in pure lust at the thought before I flip us over, making Lou yelp in surprise at the change of position. I kiss and bite her smooth pale skin before reaching her briefs, with both hands I yank them down and throw them across the room before zoning into the one place I've wanted to be all night. The tip of my tongue toying with her clit before pulling away again, watching her squirm and whimper under me. 

“So wet for me already, Miller?” I tease before placing the tip of my tongue back onto her clit making her moan. 

“All for you, love. You know I've wanted you since that night I saw you in that pretty black dress looking doe-eyed and innocent.” She confesses, her eyes staying shut as she basks in her pleasure. I reach a finger up and slid it up and down her folds, collecting her wet mess before placing my lips over the finger and sucking loudly making her look straight at me, her eyes rolled upwards in a silent prayer. 

“Oh, dear god woman. I don’t think I’m going to last long,” she whines while guiding my head back towards her heat.

 I take the indication like a starved woman in need of water and attach my mouth around her clit while steadily pumping two fingers inside of her, making her moan loud. Before I can bring her to orgasm, Lou takes ahold of my bicep and pulls me towards her while slipping her legs in between mine making us both moan in unison at the feeling of warm skin against our sensitive clits. We both rock hard against each other as I place my hands onto the headboard above Lou, she quickly removes my bra before gripping my ass making me grind down hard onto her thigh. Her lip latches onto my sensitive nipple and bites lightly dragging a moan out of me. We continue with this fast rhythm, desperate for release. Lou squeezes her eyes shut as the wave of pleasure hits her hard, I watch as she comes undone beneath me making me moan at the sight before following her with my second rush of release. 

We both relax breathless as I collapse on top of her, my head leaning against her naked shoulder, our  warm bodies clinging to each other while we catch our breath. 

“So, about that first date rule… I think it needs to be reviewed and possibly demolished.” I say breathlessly making Lou laugh out loud before kissing my glistening forehead. 

“I shouldn’t need that rule in the future. I kinda like where I am right now, with you.” She confesses into the dimly lit room almost tentatively. I smile shyly against her chest, my heart swelling at her words. We both lie in silence for a moment, basking in the afterglow. Before I can fully drift off into a deep sleep, I feel Lou nudge me gently before whispering “Come on love, we should shower before sleeping.” 

I open my eyes and groan slightly at the thought of moving but knowing it’s probably for the best. I look up towards and smirk. “We?” 

She matches my smirk with her own before jumping out of the bed and towards the en suite bathroom, her stride full of confidence. Before she fully enters the room she turns her head slightly to look back at me, her pout in place “You wanna save on the water don’t you?” 

With that, I scurry out of the bed and practically leap into her waiting arms and kiss her hard as she guides us towards the walking shower. 

“Yes, water, right.” 

***

Bright light seeps through the open window of Lou’s bedroom making me squint slightly as I try to adjust to the new sudden brightness. I stretch out my limbs feeling a certain pleasant ache in places that have never ached like that before. I grin thinking about why as I turn to face the culprit who gave my body such pleasure late last night and into the early hours. I trace a finger lightly over her sharp features, taking her in. 

God, she looks so good. 

I continue to trace my finger featherly across her cheekbone and towards her chin when she suddenly nips at it, startling me out of my daydream. 

“Ow, Hey!” I say in mocking outrage, holding my finger close to my chest. Those crystal blues stare back at me in amusement full of mischief. 

“Good morning beautiful,” She murmurs tiredly, while stretching slightly before wrapping an arm around me pulling me close. I melt into her loving carefree nature. 

“Good morning to you too, you animal.” I mutter grumpily, my eyes holding no real seriousness to my statement. She chuckles quietly before leaning in to kiss me, I lean back instantly covering my mouth stopping her advance. 

“WAIT!, morning breath.” Lou chuckles clearly amused at my statement, before leaning in again, this time I move fast away from her not realising how close to the end of the bed I was before yelping out as I fall out of the bed and onto the flooring, landing on my ass, hard. Lou quickly scurries to the end of the bed and looks down at me with concern but I can see that twinkle in her eye and the slight twitch of her lips, knowing that she’s secretly laughing at me. I scowl playfully back at her while grabbing onto the dangling sheet and yanking it hard making Lou stumble forward and land straight onto the floor next to me. 

“Ow, what did I ever do to you?” She exclaims while laughing. Her hands reached for my sides before I could escape. 

Oh no, her fingers dig slightly into my side making me squirm, wanting to escape her deadly hands as she continues to tickle me. I laugh out loud, batting at her hands begging for her to stop. 

“Lou..pl...please stop, tha..that tickles, Lou!” 

“Say your sorry.” She grunts trying to pull me into her lap as she continues her attack. 

“No.. I’ll never say, SORRY!” I exclaim, feeling tears build up in my eyes through my laughter. 

The tickling stops after that and I relax into her slightly, still wary. I feel her body shake from laughter as she brushes my hair out of my face before kissing the side of my mouth. 

“I have spare new toothbrushes in the bathroom cabinet. After we’ve brushed our teeth so they're minty fresh, will you let me kiss you?” She moans playfully jutting out her bottom lip. I roll my eyes in good nature before removing myself from her lap on the floor towards the bathroom.

“Once we’ve brushed our teeth, I’ll let you do more than just kiss me.” I flirt back at her, walking towards the bathroom with only her band tee on, swaying my hips slightly aware of her gaze on me. I hear a quiet “Fuck” behind me and smirk at the affect I have on her. 

Once we have both brushed our teeth and wearing far more sensible clothes, Lou makes her way downstairs to start breakfast, while I make a quick phone call notice the 5 missed calls and 10 text messages from Rachel.

“Hey Girl, I hope it went well last night! ;)” - 8.09am 

“So I swung by your apartment this morning, hoping to see Miss.Hottie there but you weren’t home… Please tell me you got laid and are having amazing sex rn” - 9.00am 

I roll my eyes at her forwardness before calling her up. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the dirty stop out. I got 20 minutes left of my break so you better make this the best version of what went down last night. Leave no sexy detail unturned,” Rachel instructs before I could mutter a good morning. 

“Well, good morning to you too. Is sex all you can really think about?” I ask teasingly while lying on top of Lou’s bed, slightly burying my face into her pillow smiling at the smell of her. 

“Um, yes. Duh! I’m sorry, but if someone that attractive took nearly half the interest that Lou does with you, I’d have jumped her bones two weeks ago.” She sasses. 

“I thought you only had twenty minutes left. Do you want me to tell you or not?” I sass right back, chuckling. 

“Okay, spill.”

“It was amazing! And I dont just mean the sex… Rach she was… wonderful. She took us to her family’s restaurant which was beautiful. It’s in this small area downtown, you’d love it. And then she took us to these arches that was under the bridge at the park near that coffee shop you took me to a few weeks ago, it was… beautiful there like whispering walls-”

“Like the one in the central station? Damn Y/N I think I might be falling for her, no wonder you went back with her last night. I don’t think I’d ever want to leave her side,” She says dreamily, I sigh smittingly not even arguing with her logic or her little remark about falling for her. 

“Yeah, she’s pretty great.” I mutter grinning softly.

“Soooo, how was the sex? Did you at least orgasm? Man, I bet she’s wiiild in the sheets.” She states cheekily. I gape at her vulgar comment.

“Rachel, aren’t you in the coffee room? I don’t need the entire ward staff knowing how my sex life is going, thank you very much.” I scold. 

“Of course I am! But it’s just me and Luke,”

“Hey Y/N,” Luke says in the background, I sigh in relief before greeting Luke. 

“Oh shit! We gotta go, we love you and be safe. Chinese and movie night tomorrow?” She asks. 

“Yes, for sure. Bye you two,” I say smiling at their antics. 

I end the phone call and make my way downstairs, now in my black jeans from yesterday and one of Lou’s shirts. I stand again by the stairs taking her in, she sways slightly to the beat of ‘The Smiths’ playing in the background as she flips a pancake singing quietly to herself. I make my way over to her quietly  and take a seat at the breakfast bar watching her walk. She turns sensing my presence and winks at me before placing the pancake on the stack of others in front of me, placing the frying pan into the wash bowl. After she’s finished preparing the food, she makes her way around the kitchen counter and steps in between my legs before placing her hands on either side of my face and kissing me deeply and sighs. 

“Finally, it feels like forever since I kissed you.” I smile and lean forward to kiss her delicious lips again but I’m interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Lou sighs disappointingly and mutters under her breath ‘I’m gonna change the damn locks’ I giggle quietly at her remark before turning to the mysterious person. 

I see it’s not just one mysterious person but three; Constance, Rose and Amita. All stand with matching grins while Amita and Rose look slightly apologetic for interrupting, Constance is beaming with mischief. 

“Hey love birds, sorry for the interruption but we thought we’d come early, ya know? To arrange Daphne’s birthday party for tomorrow night.” She says while making her way towards the table and grabbing a fork before hovering over mine and Lou’s shared plate. 

“Ya gonna eat any of that?” She asks us both. I chuckle softly at her carefree ‘no-fucks given’ attitude. 

“No Constance, knock yourself out darling.” I tease watching as she takes the biggest mouthful, making all three of us look on in disgust and worry, mainly me being the worried party. I hear Lou groan next to me. 

“Shit, I forgot about the party. Why are we having it here again? The woman has the money to rent the highest floor in the most expensive club in New York out. Why have it here?” She complains, giving my temple a quick kiss before moving away and towards Amita who holds a pink folder, assuming it is full of party plans. I turn back to Constance who is now offering me a bite which I politely decline, amused by her outgoing personality. 

“Hey Y/N, you wanna help with planning?“ Amita asks, probably to save me from being asked to use my stethoscope on Constance again, like that night Debbie was shot. 

She really is an odd kid. 

“Oh, um it’s okay. I should really be heading back actually, it’s very rare for me to have more than one day off, so I gotta use that to my full advantage.” Lou frowns at my statement, clearly not wanting me to go.

“I bet you do.” 

“CONSTANCE!” Amita and Rose both exclaim in unison, scolding their friend. Lou smirks slightly, her eyes on me as she winks subtly. I blush at the thought of spending my last two days off with her, in her bed.

“I have a ton of things to do with my apartment, actually. You’d think after being here for just over a month I’d have settled in by now,” I joke, before making my way over to my coat and purse that's hanging by the door. Lou’s frown back in place as she strides towards me. 

“I can take you back into the city Y/N. I was only dropping these two off before going back to my shop,” Rose offers, pushing her glasses back up her nose. I smile appreciatively, accepting her offer. 

“You're going? You don’t have to, ya know? Stay please?” She pleads quietly, so the other two can’t hear. 

I smile softly and press a reassuring kiss to her lips before pulling away slightly. “Don’t worry, I still have two days off… Maybe Constance had the right idea,” I whisper with a raised eyebrow suggestively, Lou smirks at that before leaving a handful of sweet kisses on my lips and cheek, giving my hand a quick squeeze. 

“Are you sure I can’t give you a lift? They can wait while I drop you off and get some real breakfast,” She entices, not ready to let me go. 

“I’m a grown woman Miller, I can get myself home. You stay and help them organise Daphne’s party.” I reason smirking slightly at her clinginess. She nods her head in agreement, still sulking at the decision. I cup her cheek, gaining her attention. 

“I had fun last night, Lou. Thank you for such a wonderful evening. You really do amaze me,” I mutter feeling her lean into my touch before taking a hold of my hand and planting a gentle kiss into my palm. 

“Of course. Does this mean there’s a second date on the cards?” She teases, already knowing the answer. I grin stupidly at her.

“Perhaps, I’ll give you a call and let you know.” I joke before planting one last kiss to her lips and whisper goodbye. 

“Bye guys, have fun with organising the party. It was lovely seeing you again,” I say sincerely to the two women over Lou’s shoulder. They wave from the kitchen area with grins on their faces. 

“Bye Y/N, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you soon.” Amita says slyly, sharing a chuckle with Constance who nods in agreement. 

I roll my eyes in good nature before heading towards Rose and leaving a sulking Lou behind by the door. I quickly turn my head while Rose brings the car around and blow a sweet kiss in her direction, she reaches out to catch it before placing her fingertips softly to her lips and winking. 

God, I’m in deep trouble.