#some are chill and aren’t cringe

[d-parade]

womp womp 😢

[anisespice]

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq!

two || three || four

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 

pairing: various x gn!reader [ kags, akaashi, atsumu, kenma ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, mentions of cheating, cringe descriptions that aren’t 100% accurate lol 

notes: based this off how my friend and i speculate about how the men in hq would be like in bed sooo it’s really just a little jokey joke, so have fun with her :] thinking of making more parts of this with other characters, lemme know what you guys think, and hope you enjoy!! 

To be completely honest, KAGEYAMA wouldn’t know much about the list aside from maybe surface level stuff. He knew it was full of nonsensical speculations, nothing but weird projections put onto strangers by other strangers who found them attractive. It creeped him out a little, so that’s as far as he wished to know. 

Plus, he had no reason to care about some dumb list—He had you. 

“Have you seen this bullshit?!”  Well, speak of the devil. 

All the training in the world couldn’t have prepared his reflexes for the amount of whiplash you put him through in the span of ten seconds. There he was, minding his business in his dorm room, chilling with a volleyball, then BAM; he’s getting bum-rushed by his 5-foot-something significant other with smoke coming through their ears.

Good thing you had a key because the setter was certain you would’ve smashed right through his door by sheer force. 

“Huh??” Frankly, you startled the poor man. The ball that was in the middle of being set toward the ceiling came barreling down on his face, causing him more disorientation. “See—ouch. See what?” 

You stood there next to his bed, one hand on your hip while the other practically shoved your phone in his face. He squinted at the harsh light, but eventually his eyes adjusted enough to read the post. His lips formed a confused pout. “That stupid, horny hit-list? What about it?” 

“What about it? Some bitch put you on there! Just listen to this garbage, ‘Tobio Kageyama. 6’2ft stoic, and mean Dom who’s pretty damn good with his hands. It’s obvious how much of a perfectionist he is, so be ready for some killer overstimulation. Probably won’t make any noise, and doesn’t know much about aftercare. Overall score: 6/10’. Are they deadass right now?” 

Ah. Now he gets it. 

He figured it was only a matter of time, homie was very much aware of his status around campus, not to mention being a looker to top it off. However, he figured being in a relationship would lessen his chances of him ending up on it, especially since you weren’t a secret or anything. Guess that list really had no morality after all. Who’d have thought? 

“I mean, the audacity to put your name on it knowing damn well if anyone even tried it, I’d gorilla glue all their holes shut.” He snorted, face scrunching slightly at your unusual threat. But, something told him deep down you were being serious. 

You continued ranting while pacing back and forth. “But not only that, they completely warped your entire sexual identity just because, what, you know how to mind your business and happen to have a RBF?” 

“RBF?” He tilted his head, making you halt mid-rant to admire the adorable sight. How dare he? You were in the middle of seething, dammit. 

“Resting Bitch Face.” 

He frowned. “I don’t have that.” 

“Tobio, you’re doing it right now.”

He huffed, looking away from you in defiance. His face was fine, he thought, a perfectly normal face indeed. A handsome face, he’d even say. Immediately picking up on his sourness, you chuckled softly before reaching over to cup his face and make him look at you. Kageyama instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, his frown still apparent, but a little less heavy once it met your soft gaze. “Don’t be pouty.”

“I’m not…” he mumbled, cheeks squished under your palms. A small blush bloomed across the apples at your teasing giggle. “You’re the one that’s upset, not me. Why do you care if they misrepresented how I am in bed? Shouldn’t you be happy it’s inaccurate?” 

Now it was your turn to huff, your bottom lip sticking out. Kageyama’s eyes honed in on its pillowy surface instantly, licking his own as he restrained himself; there’d be plenty of time for that later. 

“I mean, yeah but…I don’t know. It just…feels icky knowing there are random people around campus theorizing about your dick size in the comments, or if you cry after an orgasm. The least they could’ve done was be a little accurate if they’re gonna cause us all this trouble.” 

“Us? Pretty sure I’m the victim here. Who sucks at aftercare, apparently.” He scoffed, of which earned another giggle from you. “Besides, the only person I care about knowing any of that stuff is right here. They can take their 6/10 and fuck right off. I know my baby would rate me higher than that, right?” 

You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact as you playfully ignored his obvious bait for praise. Kageyama doesn’t take too kindly to that. He softly glared at you, arms tightening their hold around your waist and pulling you even closer to his toned chest. 

“Oh, it’s like that, huh? That’s fine.”

Before you could register what happened, your boyfriend swept you up without struggle and gently tossed you onto his bed. “However, I will admit they were right about one thing.” 

With a slight bounce, you couldn’t fight the delighted squeal as you watched him prowl towards you. 

“Oh, really? And what’s that?”

He hummed softly, large hands traveling up your legs from the ankles all the way to your inner thighs before spreading them open to rest in between them. Finding home there for a brief moment, Kageyama practically smothered you under his gaze, attention once again zeroing in on your lips. He could feel his restraint dissipating, biting his own lip before slowly leaning down to place warm kisses against your skin. He left no spot unloved until he eventually stopped at your ear, his warm breath sending chills down your spine. 

“I’m pretty damn good with my hands.” 

Like Kageyama, AKAASHI didn’t care to know much about the list. He knows a good chunk of guys that ended up on it personally, and based on the conversations he’s heard them have it sounded like nothing but trouble. 

And he was right to assume such. 

One afternoon a few of his friends came barreling toward him during his break in between classes, each sporting various expressions that ranged from extreme determination (Bokuto) to absolute amusement (Kuroo), while the third looked as if they were brought there against their will (Kenma). Slowly, Akaashi lowered his sandwich with a sigh; so much for a peaceful lunch. 

“AKAASHI.” Bokuto exclaimed, hands slamming down on the table to keep himself from nearly toppling the man. Akaashi flinched slightly at the volume, but before he could reprimand him, Bokuto grabbed him by his shoulders and looked him square in the eyes with grand intensity. “How could you be so selfish? I thought I raised you better than this, young man!”

The former setter gaped; that’s not at all what he was expecting to hear. It didn’t help when Kuroo started busting a lung, both hands on his knees as his hyena-esque laugh bounced off the walls of the canteen. Kenma side-eyed the business major before going back to playing some game on his phone, offering the ravenette a soft greeting, then helping himself to a chair. 

Akaashi acknowledged the pudding-head with a small nod, sharp eyes redirecting back to his senior as he removed the rough hands from his shoulders. “What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about you cheating on [_____]!” 

Akaashi blinked. Then, like a switch, his eyes nearly popped out his head as he registered the spiker’s words.  

“WHAT.” 

Kuroo, after finally catching his breath, gave a hearty exhale as he placed a hand on Bo’s shoulder. “Way to rip off the bandaid, buddy. Thought we agreed to work our way up to that part.” 

“Screw that! I demand answers! Can’t believe I’ve been friends with a no good, cheating scumbag, hmph.” Akaashi blanched at the harsh accusation, falling deeper and deeper into a state of pure shock. 

“Wait, hold on—”

“Whoa there, let’s not jump to conclusions. The man hasn’t even gotten the chance to speak for himself. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this whole thing.” Kuroo reasoned, but was obviously eating it up. Kenma lightly scoffed.

“You’re so full of shit.” He voiced, not even bothering to lift his gaze away from the game. Kuroo gasped dramatically at the dig, hand over his heart and everything. The former paid him no mind. 

Akaashi abruptly stood. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I’m not cheating on [______], who’s spreading such a thing?” 

Bokuto squinted. “Oya? Then how do you explain this?” 

Like incriminating evidence being shown to a jury, the silver-haired tank pulled up the updated version of the list on his phone that was posted over an hour ago. Akaashi was still perplexed until he saw it. His name. Oh, god no. 

Akaashi snatched the device to get a closer look just to make sure it wasn’t some sort of prank. To his dismay, the post was legit. Oh, god no. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” 

“Uh huh, busted your ass!” Bokuto snatched the phone back only for Kuroo to then take it from him. “Hey!”

Clearing his throat, the sly bastard began reading the caption. “‘Keiji Akaashi. 6’0ft tall, pretty boy with intelligent steel blue eyes. His mysterious nature and bored expression would automatically put him under the Dom category, but I can see right through him.’ Wow, they make you sound like some sort of experiment.” 

“Don’t read that outloud!” Akaashi lunged forward, only to be stopped by a large hand in his face. “Omf-! Fohkuto-son!” 

“What? Ashamed of yourself? You should be, traitor!” 

Kuroo continued. “‘What many would believe to be the strong silent type, I believe there’s a sensitive side to him. That’s why I declare Keiji Akaashi to be a Switch with Sub-leaning tendencies, who’s not afraid to be vocal and would 100% let you peg him. 11/10. Would fuck again.’ Holy shit, this is gold.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Akaashi felt like his entire face was on fire. This was like his worst nightmare come to life, and apparently now everyone on campus could participate in his misery. “This cannot be happening to me…” 

“Oh, me, me, me. Is that really all you can say for yourself? What about [_____], huh? How do you think they’d feel after finding out their boyfriend is an unfaithful—”

“I DIDN’T CHEAT ON MY S/O, BOKUTO-SAN. That isn’t even the purpose of the list, you should know, you’re on it too!” 

Bokuto gaped. “I am??” 

Akaashi groaned, sinking back into his seat. His hands dragged across his face in distress, feeling as if he aged ten years from this mishap alone. But, Bokuto had a point—How were you feeling about all this? Had you seen it?

Luckily, he didn’t need to wonder for long. 

“Keiji!” 

He flinched, as did the two stooges hovering near him. Kenma was the only one to greet you normally while everyone else resembled deer in headlights; this immediately alarmed you. What you expected to be a surprise lunch with your boyfriend since your class let out early, now felt as if you just walked in on an intervention. After taking in the weird atmosphere, you eyed Akaashi with mild confusion. “Uh…is everything okay?”

“It’s all good, [_____]! Turns out my best friend isn’t a scumbag after all. Akaashi is definitely not cheating on you, so no harm done!” 

You did a double-take in bewilderment; didn’t expect that. “O..kay?”

Bokuto looked so proud of his declaration, chest puffed out whilst Kuroo looked like he could barely hold it together. Your boyfriend clearly had seen better days, frown heavy as he glared at his seniors; all he wanted was to eat his goddamn sandwich. 

Eventually, you decided to just take a seat next to him, pulling out your own food while the two former captains began bickering about who knows what. Kenma continued to play his game, happily taking the apple slices you graciously slid over to him as a boost. After you got situated, Akaashi instantly plopped his head right on your shoulder, desiring comfort from the emotional turmoil he just endured. 

You kissed away the stress lines on his forehead before opening up your bento, already having an idea in mind as to what’s gotten him so deflated. But, you spared him any further humiliation—You planned to report that stupid post later anyways. 

You chilled outside the locker rooms waiting for ATSUMU, upon his request to walk you back to the dorms after practice was over. You told him there was no need, that you’d be fine walking back on your own, but he insisted. 

And you were so glad he did. 

While you were waiting, you mindlessly scrolled on Twitter until a familiar username caught your attention; @/FckIt22. Everyone knew of the infamous ‘Horny Bucket List’ going around and boosting already inflated egos, speculating and even sometimes outing people of their most lewd fantasies with popular guys on campus. You couldn’t help but watch the drama unfold every time there’d be a new update to the list, eating it up whenever it’d be someone you knew, or someone you would’ve never guessed to be on it. 

And to your surprise, after you refreshed the page, it was both. Your mouth was slightly ajar when a picture of your boyfriend’s boyish grin greeted you, in his volleyball jersey, soaked with sweat and hair pushed back from his forehead; looking like a full course meal. 

Eagerly, you tapped in to read the thread attached to the image, intrigued to know what was said about Atsumu until… 

“...The fuck?” 

As quick as your excitement came, there it went. Right there, in big letters for the whole campus, no, the entire internet to see was your boyfriend’s face attached with someone else’s name. And not just any someone. 

‘O S A M U   M I Y A’ 

You didn’t know whether to laugh, or what. Could they’ve seriously not been bothered to make sure they had the right twin? And not only that, they mentioned you in the thread. Didn’t bother to @ you, though.

That only pissed you off even further.

‘Osamu Miya. 6’1ft of muscle and charm, whose insatiable appetite won’t be satisfied until he’s had your thighs wrapped around his face for an hour AT LEAST. Not the most expressive, but make no mistake that he’s the ultimate brat tamer; no doubt [______] could attest to that.’

“I know damn well they didn’t just…” You muttered in disbelief, shaking your head as you read on.

‘But, if you’re good, he mayyyy let you top. Don’t think for a second you’re in control tho. Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for daysss. Doubt this man does anything but grunt and groan, but overall he still gets an 8/10. Yum ♡.’ 

Wow.

You weren’t expecting to see your future brother-in-law painted in this light today, but supposed there was a first for everything. To be fair, whomever ran the account sure knew how to sell a fantasy, but it didn’t excuse the lack of decorum they had. You felt a little disturbed, almost violated. One could only imagine how the twins would feel if they saw this…

“Hey there, stranger.” You jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion; speak of the devil. Atsumu wrapped his arms around your middle from behind, placed his chin on your shoulder, and gave a loving squeeze. “Ya ready?” 

“Uh, yeah.” You quickly locked your phone.

A little too quick. 

A small pout formed on his face. He immediately called you out. “What’re ya lookin’ at?” 

“Hm?”

“Your phone, y’were lookin’ at something.” Noticing your shifty behavior, his grip around you loosened a little as he strained his neck to look you square in the face. It wasn’t long before a teasing grin spread across his. His eyebrows wiggled, “Ya lookin’ at porn?” 

With a roll of your eyes, you lightly jabbed him in his bicep. “Yeah, ‘Tsumu. I was totally looking at porn. You got me.”  

Atsumu shrugged, sporting an even bigger grin as he started to sway both of you. “Hey, no judgement here. But don’t forget ya got the real deal right here, darlin’. Whenever you need it, your lovely boyfriend will take care of ya. All’s ya gotta do is ask.”

He spun you around in his hold, and grabbed your hips. With low, tired eyes he stared deeply into your soul. His lopsided grin brought more damage to your already fluttering heart, not to mention his semi that was now pressed against your stomach; this man had been dying to have you in his arms for a while, it seemed. However, even with this sexual tension growing between the two of you...you just couldn’t help yourself. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Osamu.”

Immediately, his grin dropped. You did your best to remain stoic, but the absolute disgust that took over his face was just too good. Your body began to shake with laughter, small snickers escaping you as you bit your lip to hold it back. Atsumu was not amused.

“That joke wasn’t funny back in high school, [______], still ain’t funny now…”

“Oh, this is no joke. As of today, my boyfriend’s Osamu Miya, and apparently he’s my brat-tamer. Did you know that he won’t even let me top unless I’ve been good-?”

“Knock it off.” Atsumu glared, gently pinching your sides. You squirmed, but the teasing smile you had didn’t falter. “What’s gotten into ya? Tryin’ to get a rise outta me or somethin’?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen it yet?”

“Seen what?”

You unlocked your phone and showed him the thread. Atsumu held a look of utter confusion, squinting at it until it eventually registered what you were showing him. He’d heard about the list that circled around on campus, some of his friends and teammates used to brag, or complain about it to him when they ended up on it. At first, he found it entertaining…but now?

“THE FUCK?”

He snatched the phone out of your hands to get a closer look, catching on to what you’d originally been hiding from him in the beginning; Atsumu wished it had been porn.

“That’s what I said!” You laughed, incredulously. “The nerve of them to just mix the two of you up like that. And to add me into it without even bothering to tag me? Probably ‘cause they knew I’d call them out on their bullshit. Can you believe-”

“‘Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for days’?? I totally have Dom energy! We’re fucking twins, why wouldn’t I? And ‘Samu ain’t no brat-tamer! If anythin’, he’s the goddamn brat.” Somewhere on campus, Osamu sneezed.

You stood there in bewilderment. That’s what he’s concerned about? 

Crossing your arms, you watched him in astonishment. “So, you don’t care that they used your picture? Or the insinuation that I sleep with your brother?”

“‘Course I do! Ya think I like the idea of his filthy mouth being anywhere near you? And usin’ my picture to clickbait my supporters is just cheap. But nothin’ pisses me off more than anyone thinkin’ that bastard has better game than me. 8/10 my ass…”

You snorted. Why were you not surprised?

Taking a small step closer you grabbed his wrist and lowered it, bringing his attention away from the phone. Atsumu now wore a heavy pout, one that you couldn’t help but to kiss; so you did. With a free hand you reaching up to his nape and pulled him downward, capturing his lips. Catching him off guard, man nearly dropped your phone when your tongue slipped into his mouth. With a soft groan, Atsumu wrapped an arm around your waist as he tilted his head in response to your sudden affection, deepening the kiss as it instantly made his mind go blank.

You pulled away too soon for his liking, the blonde blindly chasing after you with his eyes still closed as a light chuckle escaped you. You thumbed at his bottom lip, wiping some of the spit left behind as he slowly opened his eyes. Atsumu’s honey-gaze seared right into you, the hunger from early returning as the semi he sported was now fully hard, thick and heavy as it pressed against your stomach—So fucking whipped, after just one kiss. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Gazing at him lovingly, your nails raked gently through his hair as he practically melted into you. For a moment, you thought he’d start purring.

“What do they know, huh? How about you take me to my dorm and remind me why Atsumu Miya, my lovely boyfriend, is the only one who takes good care of me. Then, we’ll put that account on blast afterwards, what d’you say?”

His boyish grin reappeared, leaning in to place his forehead on yours. “Thought you’d never ask.”

KENMA felt indifferent about the list. Nothing about it made sense to him, and he left it at that. It didn’t matter how many times his friends brought it up, or how many people whispered about it during lectures—He had no opinion on it. 

“You’re not even a little curious?” Hinata asked.

“No. Not in the slightest.”

The two of them were chilling in the canteen, in the student gaming section, both occupied with their own respective poisons. While Hinata farmed pixelated fruit on his switch, Kenma battled npcs on the public-shared ps4. The copper-head talked on and on about trivial subjects since they’ve arrived, ranging from tough assignments he nearly failed to new moves he tried in volleyball, while the quieter of the two responded occasionally when he felt it necessary. 

Hinata gasped, looking up from his game in genuine surprise. “Whoa, Bakayama said the exact same thing. You and him are probably one of the few guys I know who aren’t interested in knowing if they’re on the list. Well, you two and Suckyshima. And Sakusa-san...and...”

This went on for a good minute. 

Kenma sighed, neutral expression not matching the rapid movement of his thumbs across the controller. “It’s just some dumb list. Not like it benefits anyone.”

“Sure it does! I heard it brought lots of people together,” Hinata paused, tilting his head as he hummed in thought. “Although, I also heard it split people up, too. And caused a lot of rumors…and got that one professor fired…”

Yet another minute, passed. 

Kenma couldn’t help but snort, at least finding his rambling endearing enough to stomach yet another pointless conversation about that accursed list—Why people were so obsessed with it was beyond him. 

“Sounds like a lot of drama. No thanks.”

There’s silence between the two of them, the sound effects from their games being the only thing filling the space. Kenma continued rapidly mashing buttons, tongue sticking out as he concentrated on the level. However, he couldn’t help but feel like they were being watched. They were in a public space, sure, but…something definitely felt off. Choosing to ignore it, he refocused on the game. Hinata just finished up harvesting his watermelons when he suddenly let out a teasing chuckle.

“I wonder if [______] checked.”

Kenma’s thumbs stop. His character was taking incredible amounts of damage, but none of it registered after the mere mention of your name; the pudding-head flushed red. After a moment, he regained composure and went back to smashing buttons, ignoring how slippery his hands just got.  

 “…Why would they do that?” He muttered. 

Hinata shrugged, “Well, just because you’re not curious doesn’t mean they aren’t. Believe it or not, you’re a good looking guy, Kenma-san. And if there’s a fuck-list going around where my s/o might end up on it, I’d wanna be the first to know.”

Hm. Couldn’t argue with that. He always feared you’d end up on the list, but eventually realized it only catered to a certain demographic, mostly focused on the more sociable students, so he figured there was no other reason to care. It’d be a waste of time, Kenma knew for a fact there’d be no chance of him being on it, his outward appearance be damned.

He practically spent his first couple of semesters cooped up in his room, going to class, bare minimum socializing, streamed with his camera off, rinsed and repeated. He didn’t make many new friends during that time, and met you completely by happenstance during a late night cram session in the library; how in the fresh hell would anyone think about fucking him if he rarely gave other people the time of day? 

Kenma kissed his teeth, “You’re being annoying.”

Hinata merely flashed a bright grin, leaning over to playfully poke him in the arm. “Don’t mind~!” 

The dirty-blonde playfully swatted at the intruding hand, earning a bright laugh and another poke from the ginger just for shits n’ giggles, before he returned back to his video game. Unfortunately, the eyes around him didn’t falter, some being less obvious about it whilst others didn’t even try to hide their blatant staring. After a while it started to get uncomfortable, even Hinata couldn’t help getting concerned once he started to notice.

“Uh…is it just me, or are we drawing in a crowd?”

“I dunno. Maybe they’re just waiting for me to get off the game…” Kenma reasoned. But deep down, something told him that wasn’t the case at all.

After some time passed with the situation not getting any better, he decided to just call it a night. There was no point in trying to relax anymore with all those people pointing and whispering. As he began to leave the game, not bothering to save his progress, his phone buzzed. Immediately, Kenma knew it had to have been you—He kept everyone else on DND. When he unlocked his phone, though, the gamer was shocked to see the overwhelming amount of notifications on the screen, all from his closest friends, minus the one he’s currently with. 

It appeared they’d been trying to get his attention for a while. You must’ve been the last resort, as your message urged him to meet at your place.  He didn’t need to be told twice, grateful for this escape from the prying eyes of the random bystanders. 

“I’m heading over to [_____]’s. Sorry to cut our time short.” 

The ginger simply smiled. “It’s okay, know you don’t like crowds. See ya later, Kenma-san!” 

Kenma curtly nodded, offering a tiny smile in gratitude. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made haste for the nearest exit, keeping his gaze locked on the ground until he made it outside. He could feel the eyes following him as he left, making a cold chill run down his spine. He couldn’t wait to get to your place.

When he eventually arrived, his knuckle barely grazed the door before it flew wide open, startling him a little. Before he even had time to catch his jumping heart, you pulled him into your embrace, making him tense up slightly until he soon melted into your familiar warmth. Sanctuary. 

“I’m so sorry, Ken. You must be devastated.” 

“Um, I’m fine...” he mumbled. Your arms only grew a little tighter around him, as if you were…shielding him? Eventually you pulled back just enough to look at him, searching his eyes for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Why would I be devastated?”

You blinked widely at him. “You mean you hadn’t seen it?”

He squinted, visibly confused, and your silence did little to calm his wariness. Another cold chill traveled down his spine, hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up as he struggled to figure out what this feeling meant. It wasn’t until after you gave a strained smile, sympathy swirling within your gaze, did it eventually hit him like a semi truck. The flooded messages, the suffocating stares, the whispers...It couldn’t be. 

He slowly began to shake his head. “No...”

You exhaled. “Yes.”

‘Kenma Kozume. 5′6ft recluse with the mannerisms of a kitten. But don’t let his meek demeanor fool you—it’s always the quiet ones you need to look out for. Though his posture may appear questionable, we all know it’s because of the monster between his legs dragging him down, baggy clothes no doubt concealing an absolute masterpiece of toned skin for you to mark up. The effort he puts into playing video games, don’t expect the same amount in the bedroom. I believe Kenma to be a lazy Switch with Sub energy, who’ll spend most of the session on his back, but that’s okay. We stan a pillow prince. 9/10.’

He looked at your phone with mild disgust. “You’re fucking joking.”

“'fraid not. It was posted less than an hour ago, probably while you were gaming with Hinata. Kuroo was the first to see it, and sent it to the groupchat. That’s why I assumed you had seen it already. Dammit, I knew someone would notice how hot you were sooner or later. And here I thought I was doing a good job gate-keeping you. ”

“Don’t just say stuff like that out loud...” He flushed, tugging on your sleeve in mild embarrassment. After composing himself, Kenma let out an irritated exhale. “What a pain. Whatever, this’ll probably blow over by tomorrow. Someone else will be posted and they’ll forget all about me. Guess I’ll just keep an even lower profile until then. Shouldn’t be too difficult.” 

Laying together on your Snorlax beanbag chair, Kenma turned on his stomach to bury himself in the plush cushion, wanting to forget this whole nightmare. But, you weren’t gonna let him wallow so easily. Tugging on the shoulder part of his sleeve to get his attention, Kenma groaned before tilting his head slightly to peek at you with one eye through the curtain of his hair. 

“You don’t understand, Ken. Bitches practically froth at the mouth for the sexy, socially awkward, gamer-boy type with the messy hair and lax attitude. I would know, I am bitches!” He snickered softly, rolling his visible eye. “My point is, this most definitely will not blow over by tomorrow. Not when they’re already hooked on the fantasy of you.”

“Exactly, a fantasy.” He said, slightly muffled. Shifting to lay on his back, Kenma rested his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. “Meaning they’ll never get to know the real thing, so eventually they’ll get bored. You shouldn’t work yourself up over this, kitten.” 

“Yeah, but what if someone-” 

Reaching over, Kenma gently flicked your forehead. With a soft yelp, you half-heartedly glared at him before going to retaliate with your own flick. He merely grinned, eyes full of mirth as he swiftly grabbed the hand and used it to pull you in closer. “They won’t. And even if they do, I'll just get Kuroo to tell one of his lame jokes to scare ‘em off. Problem solved.” 

You lightly hit his arm, but still graced him with a laugh. Somewhere on campus, said rooster-head sneezed. 

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[hysteria-things]

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART SIX.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris hang out after what feels like forever, and he finds something personal of yours under the bed. because he’s nosy, he can’t help but open it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, that should be it :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,034

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: changing up some things…

(dividers by @strangergraphics)

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐍 disbelief, the nostalgia hitting him like a truck. nothing and he means nothing has changed about your house from when you guys were little. hell, there still was the wall by the doorway where it had your heights written in pencil. it faded throughout the years, but it’s still visible. his heart hurts when he realizes it stops at age ten.

the both of you talked as if you guys didn’t stop talking at all. “let’s chill out in my room.” you say, grabbing his hand and guiding him up the stairs.

although he was in here the other day, he didn’t get to really look around until now. your room captures you perfectly. you sigh, sitting down on the mattress that is filled with stuffed animals. you pat the spot next to you for him to take, and he does. “sorry if it’s messy.” you bite the inside of your mouth before speaking again. “now what? i was never a good host.”

“whatever you want to do.”

groaning, you get up and wipe your palms on your pants. “what i want to do is go pee. i’ll be right back.”

walking out of the room, you leave chris there alone. he rose himself off the bed and slowly walked around. he laughs to himself. he realized you became more comfortable with him again in the short hours you’ve been together, despite recent events. next to the closet door, there’s a bookshelf with a ton of books on it. the same bookshelf that was filled with dr. suess and harry potter. now, it’s filled with… interesting.

he leans down, reading the spines with furrowed brows. twisted games? the nanny? icebreaker?

stay curious for this one, chris.

next to the flatscreen TV on the wall, you have a lot of other stuff hanging up, one being your varsity award for volleyball. two pictures however stood out to him — besides the dinosaur with sunglasses painting you also have hung up. one of them is a polaroid of you and nate, recently took at the local fair. chris makes a face at that.

the other photo is of these two kids, roughly the age of seven. they look like twins; boy and girl. the rest of your family doesn’t live here, hence all of the pictures of them. because chris does nightly facebook searches to keep up, he noticed these are your cousin’s twins.

smiling softly, he thinks about how much you love your family. you’ve always been a family person, even if they aren’t here. he understands what that’s like. being in L.A. while everybody else is in boston sucks, but luckily they got a few months to be back home.

as he turns around to sit back down on the bed, he sees a notebook sticking out from under it. he doesn’t want to look through your belongings, but curiosity got the best of him. he bends over to pick it up and open it while lowering himself to sit down.

there is a note on the inside of the cover.

he skims through the pages to see how much you wrote and it is a good amount. he stops when the handwriting suddenly changes, meaning that you stopped writing for a while. the other entries had smudges on them except for the ones he landed on. this one must be new.

so, he started to read.

dear journal,

i’m sorry i ditched you for about a year and a half. i don't have an explanation for it, but lately, i’ve been itching to write. i remembered i had this journal - thanks to my cousin bethany for getting you for me for my 9th birthday. i know you’re an inanimate object, but i forgot how relaxing it is to write down my thoughts for nobody except myself.

i can’t help but cringe at what i wrote in the past, and i sincerely apologize.

“i can’t wait to marry kevin one day!”

“omg, he talked to me today!”

“i think we’re going to be together forever!”

i’m gagging just rethinking that moment. come on now.

anyway, life has been crazy lately. shoutout to the sturniolos for ditching me and acting like we didn’t grow up together! appreciate you guys for real. i’m exhausted.

the thing is, i always had trouble sleeping. i know i just said i’m exhausted, but it’s 3 AM and suddenly it feels like i’m wide awake. i just know i’m going to be grumpy for the next few days. a lot has happened ever since they left. i’ve changed, and i hate/love it at the same time.

i’ve been going out more, doing shit i shouldn’t. (don’t tell my parents…) something also happened a while ago that’s still a blur. i can’t put my finger on it. all i remember is that the police came to my door and asked me a ton of questions about somebody.

anyway, life has been happening too fast. i would appreciate it if it slows down a tad. on the upside, my mom said the rest of the family is coming here soon. i don’t know when, but soon. bethany would for sure be happy to hear i’ve started writing here again.

my thoughts are draining the second i write things on this paper, so i’m going to try and get sleep. i’ll update you whenever i can.

- y/n

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

dear journal,

me again: at approximately 4 AM. today has been something else, let me tell you. my mom came up to me yesterday and told me some unfortunate news. can you guess who’s back in town? if you guessed my lovely besties, you’re correct! and do you know whose birthday it is, meaning i have to go to the party? you’ve guessed it! my BFFs!

doesn’t help that i’m on my period right now. i can’t do this shit.

either way, i had to be there for nate. he’s the one that stuck around. marylou will forever be the original best friend in my opinion. she stuck around, too. it’s her children i got a bone to pick with. (except justin. he’s cool.)

seeing them in person for the first time in so long had me tweaking. i admit that i was a bitch to them at the party, and not to be a bitch now, but they deserved it. however, when i saw chris, my first thought was about how he’s such a cutie still. i hate my mind for that.

i tried to ignore them for the rest of the party, and it was semi-successful.

- y/n

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

dear journal,

you will not believe this. nick messaged me on instagram saying how sorry they were and asked to meet up at my house. for whatever reason, i said yes and they came over. we sort of cleared everything. key word, sort of.

they said they wanted me back in their life and apologized for what they did. i still need to give it time, but we do want to start hanging out again soon. i missed those dorks.

that’s until chris stopped me and asked for the note he wrote to me when we were little. the note he promised me to keep, and i obviously did. i’ll tape it here.

this little piece of paper is my favorite thing anybody ever gave to me.

- y/n

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

dear journal,

sorry, i left you hanging for a few days, a lot happened in such a short amount of time.

long story short, jaiden and claudia invited me to a party. chris texted me while i was there. he seemed a bit weirded out about why i was at finn yaw’s party, but i hope he knows i wasn’t there for any specific reason. i do appreciate that he cares about my well-being, even after the downfall.

i got home not long ago and he’s texting me as i’m writing this. he just asked me to hang out tomorrow which shocked me a little, but i said yes.

not going to lie, i’m excited to hang out with chris, even though i have no idea what we’re doing. hopefully, it goes well.

- y/n

chris snaps out of it as he hears you walking back into your room, making him shove the book back under the bed. he feels kind of honored to be a part of your little notebook. “sorry, that took longer than i wanted. i had to deal with something.” you say, sitting down on the bed with a sigh. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “why are you smiling like that?”

“smiling like what?”

“like… that,” you say, circling your finger that was pointing at his face.

“no reason.” he shrugs “anyway, what’s next on the y/n agenda?”

you look around the room while biting the inside of her cheek. “are you hungry? my dad made ribs last night and it’s to die for.”

jumping up from the bed, you motion him to follow you. you walk into the kitchen, flicking on the four light switches that are on the wall. you waltz over to the fridge and open it, going on your tippy toes to grab the container on the top shelf. “how many do you want?” you ask, going on your tippy toes once again to grab paper plates in the upper cabinet.

“three is fine. do you need help?”

you shake your head. “no, i got it.”

chris stands by the island that separates the kitchen from the dining room. he leans against it, watching you plop three ribs onto his plate and only one on yours. you take his plate in your hands and reach up to the microwave. you stick your tongue out and groan. you’re struggling because of how short you are since the microwave is on the wall above the oven.

“i got it.” he chuckles, grabbing the plate from your hand and sticking it in the microwave. his hand grazes the side of your arm as he puts in two minutes and presses start. you cross your arms without looking at him. “i could’ve gotten it.”

“yeah, right.”

sitting there for two minutes feels like ten before the microwave finally goes off. you start running to the microwave but he stops you. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself by reaching for it. i got it.”

he takes the plate out and feels a rib with his finger. he nods. “it’s good.”

“okay.” you say with a low tone. he looks towards you to see you staring at your rib that still lies cold on the plate. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t think i want this anymore.” you quickly open the container, plop it back in, and stick it back in the fridge.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 sitting in your room, matt had to come pick his brother up. you and chris are currently standing on the front porch, having one last word with each other. matt is waiting in the van at the end of the stairs.

“it was nice hanging out with you again,” you say shyly. “we should get everybody back together soon.”

“i agree.” he smiles “i’m sure i’ll text you later.”

getting closer to him, you pull him into a hug. it was abrupt, but he hugged you back of course.

then, the horn of the van beeps causing you to jump and pull away. “can you hurry the fuck up? nick is waiting for us at home and is obnoxiously annoying. mom also made dinner.” matt screams from the window.

“i’ll see you around,” chris says, jogging down the stairs. he gets in the passenger seat and grabs the seat belt to strap himself in. matt waves to you, which you graciously return.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 them to get home. they live close to your house, and the duration is no longer than five minutes. he takes off his shoes at the door as his phone vibrates from getting a text.

y/n😶‍🌫️

thanks for today

i had fun :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris @imaslutforoldermen @madisonlovesyouu @poetatorturadaa @chr1sgirl4life @hiimolivia @jo-777 @sturnskiss @st4rgrlll @mattyblover07 @sm-ec @mattluvsmarni @knowingnothingnoel @mattsgirlfrieeend @bambi-slxt @sturnstvr @sturnclouds @bernardsbendystraws

[eoieopda]

FINE I'M HERE TO REQUEST PART 3!!! In which Chan better really GET that promotion!!!!!!! Contract signed, payroll amended!!!!!

You can make it angsty if you like, AS LONG AS you promise there will be a happy ending (in this part or........ Another 👀)

the one with chan and the promotion (iii)

you needed a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happened to be free. now, being free is the last thing he wants.

part i. part ii.

pairing: bang chan x reader au: fuck buddies to lovers, hurt/comfort type: drabble (angst, fluff) rating: 18+ | minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my content. wc: 3.1k cw: mad!chan makes a brief appearance but otherwise remains the best boy; gn!reader (no gendered language used); reader may or may not show some degree of emotional availability (gasp!); due to the nature of their relationship, sex is referenced but not actually depicted; very briefly/incompletely edited, oops. a/n: i love you completely and am so fucking sorry it took four (4) months for me to finish this 😵‍💫 i have an epilogue i can offer in penance, if you want it! everyone else, please read the first two parts before reading this!

Chan may be an idiot, but at least he’s self-aware.

He knew it was a bad idea to get his hopes up; to expect that things would change quickly between you, if at all. Even though he saw the letdown coming from a kilometer away, he didn’t do a thing to brace himself for it. It’s his fault, he knows, for exaggerating his place in your life — but that doesn’t make the disappointment bruise any less when the week after your wisdom teeth removal flies by in radio silence.

The lack of conversation isn’t for lack of trying. As he scrolls through your half-vacant text thread now, Chan feels all his efforts staring back at him. All those attempted check-ins marked delivered but not well-received. Swings and misses.

Prior to sending each one of them, he spent minutes upon minutes agonizing over the tone — and the use of emojis — and the possible implications of the proposed emojis — and the fear that he’d just come off clingy, not invested. Reading the finished versions back now, he can recall with perfect accuracy the drafts he typed out and immediately, feverishly deleted. Considering the way they litter his brain, there may as well be a trail of crumpled-up notes in all that metadata.

Does it make Chan cringe to look back and watch himself flatline? Absolutely.

Does that stop him from salting his own wounds? Nope. It never has and likely never will.

Maybe, he figures, he’ll spot where he went wrong and find a way to un-dig this ditch he’s seemingly made.

[Sent 2024/7/23, 15:22] Just got home. Have you fallen back asleep already? Lol 

Naver says your swelling might be kind of bad tomorrow. Do you need ice packs? I have the gel kind that you can mold. Might be more comfortable than a bag of ice cubes 🤔 Lmk!

[Sent 2024/7/25, 08:03] Hi, Hamtori 🐹 How are your cheeks?

I made too much gamjaguk again. I can drop some off if

[Sent 2024/7/26, 17:49] Graduate to solid foods yet?

I hope the antibiotics aren’t making your stomach upset

DON’T LAUGH but I made you a super chill Spotify playlist with healing vibes to

Idk if you remember, but I promised to take you out for pork belly next week. If you’re up for it, are you free on

I miss y

[Sent 2024/7/29, 00:16] Hey

Or maybe, he thinks, he’ll just beat his head against his bedroom wall instead; and eventually, he’ll forget what it felt like to be yours for the day, rather than a night.

Four more days pass without a word from you. Under normal circumstances, one of you would’ve invited the other over at least twice in the eleven days since your dental appointment. No matter how infrequently the two of you chatted outside of your recurrent trysts, neither one of you has ever gone this long without summoning the other.

Something is wrong.

At this point, Chan sees two explanations for the way you’ve fallen completely off the grid: you’ve either succumbed to some tragic, post-op. complication and died, or he’s irreparably fucked something up with you without knowing how or when he misstepped. Neither one of those is an outcome he’s willing to accept. 

The voice in his head nags him so forcefully and consistently that his body eventually gives in. Undeterred by his better judgment, Chan lets it guide him up, out, and onward until he winds up on the sidewalk outside his building.

On the walk to your apartment, he mulls over the foreseeable consequences of the actions he’s already set in motion. It’s certifiably insane to pop in you like this, and once again, he only sees two options: you’ll slam the door in his face, or he’ll confirm once and for all that you’ve left this mortal coil. Bad on all counts, really, but anything is better than nothing.

His timing, as it turns out, couldn���t be better. Right as he lands at the front door, when he needs to think of a way to get in without buzzing you, a neighbor he’s seen once or twice before opens it to leave. Politely, they hold it open for him, likely mistaking him for someone with any right to be there — someone whose primary to you actually makes sense. Chan thanks them with a nod of his head and a sheepish smile before slipping through the opening.

As the elevator ascends, his fingers move of their own accord, anxiously tapping out a rhythm on the stainless steel wall he leans against. Every worst-case scenario flashes through his mind. There’s a flash of something else there, too, though. Something even more nerve-wracking than all his catastrophizing; something that makes his stomach flip.

Hope.

“Oi, none of that,” he mutters to himself.

It doesn’t work. When Chan approaches the doors in the second before they open, he makes eye contact with his reflection and sees that easy, ill-advised smile creeping up on him.

As he exits that giant metal box, he shakes his head with an anxious laugh. If he’s this embarrassed by himself when he’s alone, the chances of him living through the way you’re about to look at him are…

Well…

Abysmal.

But that doesn’t stop him from powering his way down the hall towards your door. Coincidentally, neither does the fact that he doesn’t have a plan for what he’ll do when he reaches it.

Figuring knocking is as good a start as any, that’s precisely what Chan does, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to appear more nonchalant. 

Then, he waits.

And then, he waits some more.

After thirty seconds pass without a response, Chan knocks again, carefully balancing the weight of his fist against it so the sound of it isn’t too assertive — or too eager — or too desperate — or —

“Left about an hour ago,” a voice says from a few meters away.

Chan turns towards the sound. Several units down, an old woman’s head pokes out of an open doorway. He can’t tell if she’s intentionally frowning at him or if it’s the weight of her jowls pulling the corners of her mouth down. Either way, it feels bad.

Running an anxious hand over the back of his increasingly warm neck, he coughs, “Oh?”

The ajumma clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “You young people never put those cell phones down and yet you still wind up like this.” She works herself up further; her nostrils flare as she rambles, “In my day, it was rude to show up unannounced. We called ahead, and when we called ahead, people were there to answer the door.”

Chan isn’t above arguing with some personified wrinkle, but he likes to think you would be. Even though you’re not here to witness it, it feels important to be the person you might like him to be. 

So, he bites his tongue. 

He nods yet again with a polite smile.

He turns on his heels.

And when he shuffles back towards the elevator, there’s a hell of a lot less of a spring in his step.

Two days go by after Chan’s little fieldtrip. Just like the previous several, they slip away quietly. This time, however, he doesn’t check-in — doesn’t type out his thoughts just to immediately erase them; doesn’t stare at his phone and wait to prove it to himself that it won’t chime.

Lesson learned, really.

It was a bad idea to bet the house on maybes. He knew it on the front end and still chose optimism; now, it serves him right. Played stupid games and won stupid prizes, as you like to say. If only he could stop thinking about what you like to say and instead focus on the fact that you haven’t said anything at all.

Chan grits his teeth and tries hard to focus on the game lighting up his monitor. Whatever Yongbok talked him into playing doesn’t make him feel any better about fumbling you — in fact, it’s proving to be yet another thing he’s terrible at — but it’s sufficiently distracting to have his friends swearing each other up and down in their Discord voice channel.

Actually, he stands corrected. This is also terrible, albeit a different flavor of garbage than his hopeless mooning over you.

Maybe radio silence is better.

As soon as that thought crosses his mind, his phone buzzes against the surface of his desk — three long taps bookended by three short ones. 

Before Chan reaches for it, he lets the poetry of it all sink in. SOS, his phone declares whenever you text him. Originally, although he’ll never fucking tell you so, he chose that text tone because hearing from you salvaged his day, every time. Now, it reminds him that he’s in over his head with no life preserver in sight.

Not bad, he thinks. He should write that bit down in the notebook of lyrics he ruminates over but never puts to music, let alone shares.

The lack of action on his part prompts his phone to vibrate again for emphasis. 

SOS!

Beaming white light bores into his retinas when he finally opens his inbox, and Chan refuses to think about the million times you’ve told him to switch to dark mode or the infinitely-brighter shit he’s been roasting under since he started this game several hours back. All he thinks about instead is the first grey text in an ocean of blue:

[2024/8/04, 23:37] you up?

You tilt your head to the side, smiling coyly when you crack open the door and find Chan standing on your doorstep with his hood up and hands in his pockets. Outside the windows behind you, the downpour he just trudged through continues to dampen his mood.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you lilt, like nothing has changed at all.

That’s the problem, isn’t it?  

Chan lifts his chin slightly as some half-assed nod to let you know that his ears work, if nothing else. Either missing his stony expression or ignoring it, you simply open the door wider, beckoning him to follow you with a gentle wave of your free hand.

He wants so badly to smile back at you as easily as you smile at him — really, he does, but fuck, he can’t make his face do anything but harden.

Once he toes off his shoes, he expects you to lead him straight to your room — or your couch — or any of the other various services the pair of you have misappropriated along the way. You don’t, though. With your lips pensively pursed, you shuffle a bit closer; and as soon as you can reach him properly, you raise both of your hands. One flattens against his now rain-soaked sweatshirt; the other goes for his zipper, tugging gently until there’s nothing left to hold him together.

Carefully, Chan eyes you; watches while you slip the fabric off his shoulders, as if it isn’t twice as heavy as it was when he put it on. Like it’s easy, you turn away, open the nearby closet, and toss that wet mess into the top-half of your standing washer-dryer.

“I think…” Your tiny, upward curve returns while your sentence peters out. Softly, you reach up and brush a damp curl off his forehead. “An umbrella would be a worthwhile investment.”

He should join in on the bit. He should banter right back. He should smile, too — for fuck’s sake — because you’re finally right here. You’re talking to him within touching distance, radiating warmth he wants to live in, and he should touch you the way you want to be touched — the way you summoned him here to touch you.

He should do a lot of things, none of which include snapping at you, and yet —

“Why the hell am I here?”

It catches you both off-guard. You, because Chan has never once spoken to you any other way but kindly. Him, because you don’t actually look all that surprised by the sentiment, even if the presentation isn’t what you expected.

Somehow, that’s the thing that stings the most; not the way your face falls at his gruffness but the inkling you must have had before you asked him over that things between you aren’t sitting right at all.

Chan doesn’t get a response, so he asks another way: “Did you notice all of those unanswered texts when you sent yours, or did you ignore them all over again?”

It dawns on you — and him too, if he’s being honest — that you’ve still got your hands resting delicately on his chest. You reel your arms back in and cross them, not defiantly but diminutively. You shrink right in front of him; and regret hits him like a fist to the side of his skull.

“I didn’t know what to do with them.” Your head lowers while you do your best to look anywhere else.

That’s —

“Bullshit. I’m sorry, but it’s really not hard to keep up a conversation, especially when someone is just asking how you’re feeling.” Instantly he feels terrible for snapping. Softening his tone slightly, he sighs, “I know you know how.”

You look up at him without tilting your head much at all. Peering over that brick wall of yours, he figures. “That’s the thing, though. I don’t know.”

The face he pulls must convey what he’s thinking: Are you fucking kidding me? But you’re quick to prevent him from jumping to any further-out conclusions, amending, “I don’t know how I feel.”

Chan opens his mouth to respond, then thinks better of it. It’s rare for you to open up to the extent you might be about to; and it’s a miracle that you might be willing to now, given the fact that he’s come at you blindly at 160 kilometers per hour.

“I don’t like needing people.” 

Your attention is drawn to your fidgeting fingers and the drawstring of the sweatpants they occupy themselves with. The overwhelming urge he feels to grab them, to hold them still, goes ignored and makes his own hands tense. He focuses hard on your face instead; the crease between your eyebrows while you plot out your next steps.

“I didn’t want to need you, but then I did need you — and you just… you came, no questions asked.” You laugh, either despite your visible discomfort or because of it. “Held my hand and all that, didn’t just drop me on the curb and say, hit me up when you’re down again.”

Chan feels as if he’s been punched, although it’s not offense he takes from your statement. Judging by that flicker of hurt in your eyes, the expectation you had wasn’t for him, personally. It was history. 

You shift where you stand from one foot to another, like that weight on your shoulders is changing. He doesn’t know if it’s getting heavier or lighter until you finally lift your chin to look at him squarely. 

“It scared the shit out of me, honestly — how easy you are to need — so, I did what I always do: I bailed.” Sighing, you finally seem to register how much anxiety you’re holding in your hands. You drop it, then drop them to your sides. “But I think I’ve figured it out.”

You smile slightly, and suddenly, he feels lighter. “I’ve been conflating them, but they’re completely different things, aren’t they?”

Chan arches an eyebrow. Truly, he’s at a loss. He can’t predict which direction you’re about to turn in. Seeming to sense this, you answer his unasked question, “Wanting to need you and wanting you.”

While this makes his brain pause, his body moves. Cautiously, he steps forward and watches you counter him until your back is flush against the wall behind you. 

“Can I have a definition, then, please?” He pleads, voice low, while his hands gently claim your hips. “Because I thought it was want behind the booty call that brought me here, and I don’t want to find myself on a completely different page again.”

You link your arms around his neck and eye him carefully. “It was,” you acknowledge with a small nod. “Different kind, though — a shallow one.”

Chan finds his mouth curving up at the corner, all on its own. His gaze drops from yours to your lips, then back again. It’d be so easy to kiss you now, but he can’t unless he gets some sort of confirmation. “We’re in the deep end now, then?”

“Moving that way, at least. I spook easily, though…” You’d probably love nothing more than to look away when you admit that bit out loud, but to your credit, you don’t. Instead, you run your fingernails softly through the hair at his nape. “I’m not entitled to any more of your patience, but would you be willing to take it one day at a time?”

Chan wishes that he’d at least pretended to consider this. He doubts you’ve ever had a vision of him as someone nonchalant — in fact, he’s the poster boy for chalance in whichever reality that word exists — but it would’ve been infinitely cooler of him not to respond immediately and wholeheartedly with a rushed sigh, “Fuckin’ right, I am,” before leaning in to kiss you absolutely stupid.

Whatever gratification he can’t find by licking into the mouth you open eagerly for him, he finds in the way you keen when he presses his body more fully against yours. The payoff is even better when he stops short, divorcing your respective lips entirely.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he announces, breathless. His grin widens; meanwhile, your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. “No! Not, like, never — I don’t have that kind of resolve — but not tonight.”

The sudden switch makes you dizzy. Thankfully, it makes you laugh, too. 

“Don’t tell me you just want to enjoy my company,” you warn. You attempt to say it earnestly, but a smile cracks you wide open. “I’m still too prone to bolt when I hear cute shit like that.”

Chan shakes his head. “No, I’m telling you to plant yourself on that couch —” He pulls his right hand off your left hip and gestures blindly over his shoulder. “I’m also telling you that I am getting takeout.”

You narrow your eyes in feigned suspicion. “I wonder what you could possibly be ordering.”

“Belated pork belly is better than no pork belly.” He narrows his eyes to mirror hours, then kisses you quickly, murmuring, “One for the road,” against your lips.

Then, he dashes off towards your front door. As he goes, he just barely catches you nagging him through your laughter:

“If you’re not going to wait for your sweatshirt, can you at least take an umbrella?”

while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.

skz taglist. multi taglist. navigation.

due to tumblr being ass with tags lately, i’m going to be tagging people in the comments for the time being!

[waffledforbreakfast]

First Date- [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]

(SEPARATE) pt1

Staring: Rin, Shidou, Sae,

pt2: Niko, Kaiser, Ness,

pt3: Otoya, Karasu, Reo

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, cringe, scuff, etc.

>Rin

[Horror Movie in theaters]

Rin doesn’t see himself as someone who freaks out or panics a lot, he likes to think he’s pretty chill

And yet here he was, preparing for a date ,8 hours before the arranged time. 

He pulled out a first outfit and stared at it, “I shouldn’t pick anything too fancy, it’s just a movie anyway…” he muttered to himself while pulling out more clothes

He finally had everything prepared, his fanny pack with all necessities, and his fit simple and practical

Now all he had to do was wait for the time… which was two hours from now

Rin ended up getting there 30 minutes before the arranged time…

“Hey Rin! Sorry if I’m a bit late…” you laughed awkwardly. You were not late, in fact, you were 5 minutes early. “Were you waiting for a long time?”

“No, not at all” he put his ear buds away and gave you his full attention “You ready to go?”

The two of you slowly made your way over to the theater, chit chatting about all kinds of things

“You wanna sneak some food in?” you grinned at him while pointing at a convenience store to your left

“That’s not legal is it….”

“...”

“Sure.”

You were in charge of grabbing snacks, and Rin grabbed drinks. He browsed the shelfs for a bit before grabbing four different kinds, including your favourite that you had mentioned on the walk

“Four?” you questioned the boy holding the bottles 

“Yea. I got your favourite and some others.” he held them up to show you, as if it was perfectly normal

“Won’t that cost a lot…?” she stared at him, slightly concerned as he placed the items on the register, the total was going much above what you’d thought

“I’ll pay.” he insisted. And pay he did, you didn’t even had time to respond before he tapped his card on the reader

“The only problem” he started, gathering the items “Is sneaking them in…”

“Oh, I can do that” you offered with a smile, sifting through the objects “I’ve got experience”

Rin nodded before pulling out his phone to check the time. Once he had put his phone away, all foods and drinks were out of sight

You just smiled at him as he just stared at you with wide eyes, as if he’d just seen a magic trick “Where did…” he looked you up and down, trying to figure it out

“Experience.” you gave a smug nod

The two of you made your way over to the cinema, successfully passed through security, and sat down into your seats [for the sake of the plot, it’s a pair of chairs that aren’t separated, so there’s nothing between you two😏 ]

You pulled out the snacks from who knows where and handed some to him

“So, what are we watching?”

“The Shining” he answered shortly, opening a bag of popcorn, silently wondering where you hid that much food

As the movie started, the two of you shared the snack and watched carefully, few words exchanged at first 

If you disliked the horror parts, he put an arm around you and hid your face into his neck. If it got really bad, he’d put his hands over your ears and smile at you to try and comfort you. 

Or he’d just whisper to you over the movie “It’s alright, I’m here.”, “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon”, etc. Wouldn’t make fun of you if you cried (the first time LOL), he’d just hug you tighter 🥹

If you were fine with gore, or even as far as being interested in it (how do yall do it-), he just stared at you in awe.

It’s not like he’s bad with it, he’s just shocked that someone else enjoys it too, silently running through a list of movies you two could watch together in the future.

Not too many words were exchanged during it, but you two had lots of fun nonetheless.

“Thank you for bringing me today!” you smiled at him, making your way outside

“No problem, thank you for joining me.” Rin nodded while disposing of the snack wrappers and bottles

“Let me walk you back to the train station, it’s dark out.” he grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers with his before leading you through the night

“Thank you” you gave a bow as you reached the station “I had fun tonight”

“Yea, me too…” he said, slowly realizing how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. He hoped the darkness of the night hid his blush

You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss while slipping a button from you shirt into his hands, a common way of expressing love in Japan

He covered his red face with a hand, while looking at the floor in embarrassment 

He took off his jacket just as you were about to leave and shoved it into your hands, “Don’t want you getting cold…” he barely mumbled, before preparing to leave

You gave him one last thanks before putting the jacket on as he left

As he walked home, he wasn’t actually that cold. Maybe it was because of the extra sweater he had underneath, maybe it was because he was hoping you’d ask for it and prepared earlier that day, maybe it was because his face was so hot from the interaction, who knows :x

He was smiling the whole walk home, and even took a wrong turn because he was so distracted, didn’t even put his earbuds back in because he was so focused on the memories of that day

Once he got home he texted you to make sure you did too

The two of you will 100% be going on another date, and this time, you’ll get to choose where ;) (just please don’t make him watch like, mlp… or do, that’d be pretty funny- )

>Shidou

[Arcade/just around the block]

How Shidou managed to convince you to go out with him? I have no clue.

This man was running around the house grabbing his things 5 minutes before you were supposed to meet up. It’d take 10 minutes to get there.

You were just scrolling as you waited for him, already 2 minutes late. You weren’t all that surprised, he was that typa guy after all. But you were surprised when he crashed into you, panting as he tried to catch his breath 

“I’m- *wheeze* sorry that I’m- *wheeze* late-” he was hunched over with sweat dripping down his face

How fast did he run??? You thought to yourself while silently facepalming.

“Here” you said, pulling out a plastic water bottle and handing it to him “Take a second to catch your breath”  

“Thank you- my goddess” he said, before chugging the whole bottle. Shidou finally gained his composure “You know, that was technically an indirect kiss” he teased while giving you back the bottle.

You threw it out.

He pouted for a second before following you down the street, “Sooo, where do ya wanna go first?”

“You don’t have anything planned?” you questioned him

“Nooo…. Was I supposed to-??” he didn’t realize he actually had to do anything-

“Well- you were the one who asked me out…” you mumbled more to yourself than him, “Nevermind, there’s a big arcade around here, wanna play a few rounds?”

“Hell yea!” he said excitedly 

Once you two had arrived, he bought you both a bunch of tokens (as an apology for being late/wanted to show off) and I mean a bunch.

You watched him play a few games, and you were pretty shocked with how good he was with some of them, I mean, how much practice could someone really have with Flappy Bird?? The chance-based games though- don’t even get me started LOL he’d either get really lucky, or really unlucky.

Eventually, you guys found the strength/reflex based games. The ones with hammers, buttons, etc.

He tried the one with the hammer first. It was a simple one, all he had to do was hit it as hard as he could, the harder the better. Shidou picked up the tool, and slammed it down on the sensor. You could’ve swore he broke it.

He turned at you and smiled brightly “Jackpot!”

“Damn, you’re good” you stated, gathering the tickets as you ignored the scared children in the background. “Let’s try Whack-a-Mole next!” He dragged you over to the minigame.

He won again.

As you gathered the tickets again, you thought you should show off a bit too…

You grinned before grabbing his hand and leading him over to a certain stall you saw on your way in. It was one you played many times and you could constantly score well on. 

You placed your belongings on the floor before starting up the game and stretching your fingers while Shidou just stared at his hand like he’d been touched by an angel

As the game started, you mashed buttons with your eyes focused on the screen at an alarming rate. Shidou’s eyes couldn’t even keep up, his jaw on the floor

Finally the game ended, with you beating the top score on the machine. You collected your mass amount of tickets and smiled at the boy “Jackpot!”

Shidou pouted “When were you going to tell me you were so good with your fingers~?”

You sighed as you continued to look around, “Hey Shidou look, if we beat these bots in a shooter game we get free pizza” you pointed at an advertisement stuck to the wall

He glanced at the poster quickly before giving you a devilish grin “You down?”

“Hell yeah.”

You picked up the prop gun in the booth and pressed the “Ready” button, waiting for the simulation to start. You closed an eye and pulled the fake trigger, shooting the zombies coming at you and Shidou.

You could hear his trigger-happy laughs from beside you as he one-shotted the enemies. Needless to say, you two won. Shidou stepped out the booth with a smug smile as you redeemed your free pizza, “You’re not bad~” he teased

You laughed “You’re pretty good too, Shidou”

You two sat down to eat as you chatted, “Thank you for coming today! I was really worried you were gonna ditch LOL” Shidou said nonchalantly as he scarfed down a slice 

“Is that why you were late….?” you asked, picking up your own slice

“Nah, I just forgot!” he smiled

After lunch, you played a few more games, amassing a very large sum of tickets. You and Shidou now stared at the prizes, thinking about what you wanted. “Hmmmm” he thought out-loud, “You can have all the tickets.” he looked at you with a smile 

“Really?” you asked skeptically “You sure? That’s a lot-”

“Yea, 100%. I don’t mind” he handed you his tickets “Just one thing in return…” he smirked at you mischievously

You hesitated but took the tickets anyway, “What is it…”

He pointed at his cheek, “Gimme a kiss” 

“...”

“...Please?”

You gave him a very quick one before going back to looking at the prizes, Shidou smiled and buried his face into his hands, looking up at you with hearts in his eyes 

You placed a huge plushie of your favourite animal on the table for the worker to scan, and you brought out the tickets to pay. Shidou came up to you from behind and clung onto your waist as he buried his face into your neck

The worker laughed as she handed you your plush, “Your boyfriend?” she questioned,

“Not quite-” you started, before getting cut off by Shidou,

“Soon.” he still latched onto you

After that, he walked you home and wished you a good day, he also asked for another kiss, it depends on you if you actually give it to him or not tho ;)

He’d plop himself on his bed and just think about everything that happened, and now he’s sure he wants to go out with you again, it’s not much of a choice ;)

>Sae

[Fancy Restaurant/late night car drive]

This may be the fanciest date you’ve ever been on- never had you dressed up so formally. 

You took a few breaths while waiting at the door for Sae to pick you, checking your phone every 2 seconds. And finally you got a next, “I’m waiting for you outside”

Sae walked out and opened the car door for you, holding your hand while escorting you in. As he closed the doors and started up the engine, he pulled out a small bouquet of flowers, “This is for you”

You took the flowers in your hands and blushed, you had only mentioned your favourite type briefly, and yet he still remembered. “Thank you, Sae.” you gave a short reply while looking at him brightly 

He couldn’t help but smile a bit at your reaction, silently freaking out about how good you looked

At the restaurant, you two were seated almost immediately, thanks to the reservation. He was a gentleman and everything, pulling out your chair for you, and kissing your hand lightly. 

“Hello! What can I get started for you?” a waiter came by with a notepad, ready to take your order, even though you’ve only had the menu for like 40 seconds. You’d need much more time than that to decide, but you didn’t want to bother them, so you flipped through the menu quickly trying to pick

“We’re still deciding.” Sae stated directly, putting his hand over yours which was tapping lightly on the table, a habit you developed when anxious. 

You gave him a thankful nod and smile, to which he blushed lightly

“Pick whatever you want” He said, “I’ll pay.”

You would’ve insisted on paying for yourself, but looking at the menu, there was no way you could afford it, so you thanked him and continued browsing 

After a bit, you decided what you wanted. You looked up at Sae and he was… looking at the kids menu-

I mean, who were you to judge? We love the kids menu, you just didn’t expect Sae Itoshi of everyone to look thought it

He eventually noticed you staring at him, and flipped to another section “Sorry..” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. You had to hold in a laugh at the scene, and Sae only frowned playfully at you. “My little brother used to always get something from there.” he stated, “Anyway, have you decided what you want?”

He called the waiter over and you both imputed your orders.

While the two of you waited for your food, you started a conversation, which soon led to another, and another. You were teasing him about not knowing anything other than soccer, and you even managed to get a few jokes and affectionate eyerolls out of him, and finally your food arrived.

As the waiter put the plates down, your jaw dropped as your mouth watered, it was the best food you have ever seen. Your entire face lit up as you grabbed a utensil and started going at it, not thinking about anything other than the delicious taste.

“You look like you’ve been starved” Sae laughed as he picked up his own fork and knife, and started cutting his stake like a proper person, especially compared to you who had sauce by your lips

He grabbed a napkin and wiped it off, smiling at your flustered reaction

The two of you ate, occasionally exchanging words, but you were much too busy appreciating the food, and he was much too busy appreciating your beauty

You let out a content sigh as you put your fork down and smiled “That was good food.” you said, expression like you’ve just been blessed by the heavens

Sae silently laughed, he used to come here pretty often with his family, so things like these weren’t anything special to him, but you made it memorable.

He paid the bill and led you out the building, a small smile on his face.

“Where to now?” you asked as you got in the car “You said you wanted to show me something?”

“Mhm.” Sae nodded as he drove out the parking lot “It’s a bit far, but we can get there quickly” he had the tiniest grin on his face, his eyes hiding a bit of mischief 

You looked at him hesitantly, wondering what he was about to do. But you didn’t even have a second to adjust before he suddenly accelerated, much higher than you could’ve anticipated.

“AIDUSGFLAUEGF-” you let out a string of swears as you were pushed into the seat by the speed you were going while he laughed

If there were cars around, he would’ve crashed into one by now, or got pulled over. Luckily, it was pretty late at night and no one was around, so he could go however fast he wanted.

“Are you sure this is safe??” you yelled as Sae rolled down the windows

“Trust me.” he replied, before drifting 90° to turn

“See?” he said with a smile “Perfectly safe” 

The car was now going at a slightly more normal pace as he held one hand on the steering wheel and intertwined the other one with yours as you tried to comprehend what happened. “We’re almost there” he smiled

As you arrived, Sae helped you out as you looked around. I was just a huge empty parking lot, with seemingly nothing around, “What did you want to show me?” you asked

“Look up” he nodded at the sky

As you turned to face it, big fireworks of every colour shot up, lighting up the night sky.

You smiled, you always loved fireworks after all “They’re so pretty..”

 Sae pulled you in with a smile, “Not as pretty as you”. Sae leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, a sweet feeling engulfing you both.

As you finally pulled away, you buried your red face in his chest, still flustered. Sae smiled, as he put a hand on your hand, and another around your waist “Let’s get you home, my love”

A/N: jsut hit me that i have to put "SEPARATE" in the title or it sounds like a harem

[spookydrreid]

Let’s Start the New Year Right

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

18+ minors DNI

desc: Spencer and reader get invited to a chill, casual NYE party. But things heat up right at the stroke of midnight.

cw: food mention, Spencer is a little awkward in the beginning, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in a bathroom)... Let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1667

...

“I can’t go dressed like this? People will laugh at me.” 

Spencer looks himself over in the mirror for the tenth time, running a hand down his sweatshirt. It was New Years Eve and you two weren’t doing anything too crazy, just spending time at your friend Andies house with a few others. She’d just bought said house and was desperate for you and the rest of your friends to see it. And what better time than New Year's Eve?

“They will not laugh at you. Andie said she wanted everyone to be casual and casual means jeans and sweatshirts,” you called from inside your closet. “And we’ll be out by the fire. You’ll be more comfortable like this. Trust me.” 

You peak around the corner to his portion of the closet, a small smile tugging at your lips. He looks cute, more dressed down than you usually see him. In fact, this is the most you’ve seen him in the past three weeks. Serial killers don’t take breaks, even during the holidays. So off he and the team went to bum-fuck-nowhere Alabama and missed Christmas.

It was disappointing to say the least. 

But it was his job, something he warned you of previously. However, it didn’t mean him missing important days didn’t hurt. But you sucked it up and smiled through it. Plus, it didn’t matter. He was home and he was safe. 

“I do trust you. But I don’t want to be underdressed.” He sighs moving to grab his tennis shoes, sitting on the little poof seat you insisted on buying. (And that he secretly loved. Not that he’d admit it.) 

You pull your hair out of the back of your sweatshirt, smoothing it down and grabbing a warm hat. “You won’t be. This isn’t like Rossi’s where we dress to the nines and get drunk on champagne.” 

You see him grin as he ties his shoes, a small blush rising on his ears. 

“Yeah he was sad we were coming this year. I, however, am excited we aren’t going. I have spent more than enough time with all of them. They’ll survive without me for a night.” 

You giggle, walking towards him and hugging him from behind. “Yes, baby, your friends will survive without you. You’re all mine tonight.” You kiss his cheek before straightening and checking your phone, “we should head out, sweetheart. Andie will be pissed if we’re late.” 

The drive to Andies was short, filled with Spencer's long winded explanation about why you and he bought your house at the ‘most perfect time’. You loved listening to him ramble, even if half the time he spoke gibberish. You were thankful you could google some of the super big words he used. 

The second you’re parked outside the house, big, beautiful and full of holiday cheer, you see Spencer tense. You’d think after six years together, he’d be more calm around your friends. They helped him with the proposal after all and he still has the group chat. The group chat where they send him memes he doesn’t understand. However, no matter the time, he isn’t the most comfortable with anyone but you. And more so in your bedroom. 

You find it… endearing to say the least. 

You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it three times i am here. “Ready?” 

He squeezes back and nods, “I am… I think.” 

It’s all you need before getting out and never once letting go of Spencer’s hand. 

Andie stands at the door, smile on her face, two glasses of punch in her hands. “There is my best friend and her hot as fuck fiance!”

Spencer practically cringes at her words, never being one who could handle a compliment. Even if he was the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen. 

“Hi! Sorry we’re late. We had a late night. You know how it is, serial killers killing during the holidays. Dr. Reid forever having to save the day.” You pat his chest, looking up at him fondly. 

He loves when you look at him like that, eyes so wide, filled to the brim with love. He kisses your head and 

Andie fake gags, handing you the drinks in her hand. “Yes, yes. Get inside before we let the kitten out and before the cold air comes in.” 

You sip it, the vodka making your chest feel warm. Spencer looks down at the cup before looking back at you, “I can’t drink. Want this?” You nod, taking it and pouring it into your cup. “A-andie do you have water? Bottled? I don’t like sink water and fridge water tastes funny so bottled is better. Even though it’s not good for the environment.

“But it’s not really us that needs to worry. It’s the famous people who really pollute the envi-” 

Andie cuts him off, “Spencie baby, you don’t have to explain this to me. I have plenty of bottled water. Want a cold one or a room temp one?” 

Spencer curls his lips over his teeth, a small blush creeping up his neck, “cold is fine. Thank you, Andie.” 

“You’re welcome sweet thing.” She digs in her fridge and finds the bottle, handing it to him. “Now, time for a tour.” 

… 

It takes a good few minutes for her to show you both around the house, making sure she explains every single detail even down to the persian rug her current boyfriend bought her when he went to visit his mother. 

Spencer, of course, went on and on about this, that and the third. It was cute. 

But soon you were in Spencer's lap, staying warm by a fire and roasting a marshmallow while Spencer got the chocolate and graham crackers ready. You were two drinks and three shots in, happily buzzed but not even close to drunk. 

“You are so hot when you open chocolate. S’anyone ever told you that?” You say it quietly, not wanting to embarrass him in front of anyone. 

He smirks, using the top graham cracker to slide the toasted marshmallow off of the stick and smoosh it between the other cracker and chocolate. “No one has ever told me that. But there is a first for everything.” 

He takes the first bite before handing you the rest. You pout a little and he laughs. “You ate my smore! Not fair.” 

He kisses you, lips brushing over yours gently, “I will make you another when you finish that one.” “What happened to my shy boy? Getting bossy out here.” You smirk, knowing you’re pushing his buttons.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night when I fucked you into the mattress.” He says right in your ear, nipping at it slightly. 

You shiver, squirming in his lap. “You-you can’t do this to me. We can’t fuck here.” 

He kisses your temple, “there are four bathrooms here. We totally could. They all lock, I made sure.” 

Andie claps her hands, “ten minutes till midnight!” 

Spencer grips your thigh, “what a way to ring in the new year? Me buried inside you.” 

You cross your legs, trying anything to get some friction. 

“They’ll notice, Spence.” You look around, no one is paying attention to you, most of them sucking face with their dates.

“Oh baby, they won’t notice.” 

Before you know it, your pants and underwear are on the bathroom floor, and Spencer's face buried in your cunt. You bite your fist to quiet the moan. For some reason, it was extremely hot getting eaten out with the possibility of someone hearing you. But that didn’t mean you wanted to get caught. 

“So pretty bunny.” He purrs from below you. He pushes two fingers inside you, easily opening you up. He knows your body better than you do, making mental notes of every little moan, gasp, and sigh that leaves your lips. Because of this it isn’t long before he has you falling over the edge, somehow keeping your moans quiet.

“Time,” He asks as he stands, towering over you.

You check your phone with shaky fingers, “11… 11:50” 

Spencer pulls at his belt with fervor, pushing his pants down till they pool at his ankles. “Gotta keep you quiet for another ten minutes.” 

His lips are on yours, swallowing your moans as he pushes all the way inside you. He doesn’t waste time, his hips snapping against yours. His lips travel from your lips and down your neck, moving your sweatshirt to the side to suck hickies where no one can see them. 

‘Just for me,’ he’d always say. ‘Only for me.’ 

“Spencer, please.” How you manage to whisper it is beyond you. But it doesn’t matter with the way he’s moving. 

“Shh… I’ve got you, bunny.” He snaps his hips faster. 

Your second orgasm comes right at 11:58. And it isn’t long before you can hear your friends counting down. 

Ten.

“Fuck bunny. Feel so good.” 

Nine

“S-spencer…” 

Eight

His hand covers your mouth, muffling your growing moans. 

Seven 

“I know you don’t want to get caught.” 

Six 

“‘Specially not so close to midnight. Right?” 

Five 

You shake your head no. Eyes staying locked with his.

Four

A wicked smirk crosses his lips, his confidence growing. 

Three

“S’what I thought.” 

Two 

His thrust grow more and more sloppy and before long his head falls into your shoulder and his orgasm rips through him, spilling inside you. 

One

His kiss is hard, hands on the sides of your face while he makes out with you, riding out the rest of his orgasm. He’s panting as he pulls back, Spencer's forehead resting on yours. 

“Happy New Years, sweet angel.”

...

I hope you enjoyed! This is my first fic in almost a year. Im nervous to say the least lmao. I love you all ❤️

[impishjesters]

Jax-in-a-box Part 2

warning(s): suggestive/implied sexual content/language, potential out-of-character Jax (look you're just so big and it's distracting okay... let him be distracted and have thoughts), bratty(?) Jax note(s): I swear this wasn't intending to go down this route of horny rabbit man, but I was feeling some dom/sub vibe and it just happened I'm so sorry, I don't know why I'm like this. A/N: I wanted Jax to feel teeny so the reader is at least 9 ft/274 cm minimum. Man, Pomni must look like a step stool next to the reader... Also, this would take place at some point in the dating stage. Also, this is the same original requester of the Jack in the box reader, thank you for requesting more this was really fun to write~ request: I’m just requesting a little story if your up to continuing that request. So what l’m thinking is just a little scenario of the reader completely coming out of their box for the first time (well the first time they were caught) Mabye the scenario has Jax coming into reader’s room unexpectedly and seeing reader chilling outside their box? Though of course you can do/write anything you’d like for this. I’d like it if you made the reader even taller, since they are actually standing this time instead of being in their box.

While being inside your box brought a level of comfort your bedroom couldn’t provide, that didn’t mean you didn’t use it. No, the privacy of your bedroom was used to stretch your legs—something the others, specifically Jax, hadn’t known about. Not that it was a secret, you just loved seeing it wrack his brain as to what lay beneath.

The box sat abandoned, lid wide open as you lay in the provided bed just a few feet too small for you. It’s not like Caine had expected someone as tall as you after all, you aren’t even sure if Caine is aware you can even exit the box, but you made do and got yourself nice and comfy to relax.

You plucked up an interesting-looking book earlier from Caine’s weird collection of provided reading material. Nothing risque sadly, but you can’t help but feel like Caine has never even read any of these and merely plucked them from whatever and just willed them into existence.

The next hour easily passed, nose buried into the book, so much so that you didn’t even hear the jingling of your locked door being forced open. Hell, you didn’t even notice until he said something.

The first thing Jax saw was your box, empty, his eyes shifting to the bed to see long legs dangling off the bed before he realized who it was. Well, of course, it was you, it was your room and it was locked.

“You have fucking legs?!”

You snorted and finally looked up from the book, Jax looked completely flabbergasted, and fuck, if only you had a camera. “Just normal legs, but they could do that too.”

Jax didn’t even have it in him to retort to that little comment, no he was far too focused on the fact you had fucking legs. He’d been entirely convinced that you didn’t have anything below the waist, it’s like that box had this weird black fog that looked like a void you were just coming out of. There are so many questions he wants to ask…

How the fuck do you fit in the box with legs that long? Do you sit with your legs crossed or on your knees? Do they just vanish into that weird black void? Have you been just weirdly seat-jumping around this whole time?

He’s so caught up in his thoughts he doesn’t even process that you moved to sit at the edge of the bed, legs crossed at the ankles. It’s not until you clear your throat that he realizes how close he’s gotten and wow, you’re just sitting and you’re able to look him straight in the eye. Is this awakening something in him? God, he hopes not.

“What can I do for you, my little cotton tail?”

You loved the dumb little pet name, he claimed to hate it and it stuck. If he was gonna call you all sorts of dumb pet names he was going to get at least one of his own.

Jax cringed at the name and rubbed his face as if that would get rid of the growing blush. “Stop it with the name would ya?”

“Then stop calling me Jack.”

He waved his hand before snorting out a “Nah”.

“Fine, at least stop calling me Boxxie.”

“Oh c’mon, it’s cute.”

It was your turn to cringe, he only called you that because he was convinced you were a box when you first showed up. A sentient box, how fun. “Was there a reason you came lock-picking into my room?”

“Tsk tsk tsk, I’m not a heathen to stoop so low as to lock pick.” he held up one of the many keys in his possession. “I used a key.”

A chuckle left you, accompanied by an eye roll. “Yeah okay, that I didn’t say you could have but it’s you so I’ll let it slip. Now spill cotton tail.”

Jax’s face scrunched up at the name again before moving closer, forcing your ankles to unlock so he could stand between your legs. “I wanted to see if you’d give me the honors of helping in a little mischief. But after seeing your legs I’m not sure if I wanna go cause mischief or stay and admire them in their spread-out glory.”

“The only legs getting spread are yours, cotton tail.” Reaching out you placed a hand on his hip, your fingers easily wrapping around him, your thumb meeting your middle finger on his other hip. “Who do you want to bully now? It better not be Pomni again, that poor girl doesn’t need another scare so soon.”

He swallowed hard, eyes glued to his waist and the way your hand just completely wrapped around him. You’ve done it before but in a setting like this, it just hit differently. “It’s not bullying, she’ll be fiiine.”

Jax cleared his throat and used the arm closest to him as his own armrest, you easily supported his weight as he crossed one foot over the other. He was trying hard to play this whole situation off, he was supposed to be in charge and you’ve gone and taken the upper hand without even trying. “So uh, h-how tall are you now? Ya know, without the box.”

That was a good question.

You gestured for Jax to step back and he did so hesitantly before you pulled yourself up, grumbling at the way your knees hurt from getting off the already low-ass bed. Truly a downside to being taller than the furniture here, something you didn’t experience until you started taking breaks outside the box.

Jax let out a string of unintelligible words as you stood to your full height. He knew you were big before but you were a lot taller than he thought you’d be, god his neck already hurt. Is this how Pomni felt standing next to him? God, you could just, break him…

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You tried not to look so smug, but god damn if it wasn’t satisfying to see such a thirsty yet bewildered expression on the usually smug rabbit’s face. Truthfully you weren’t too sure just how tiny Jax would be at your full height, he’d already seemed small before but now you could just toss him like a Javelin spear.

“I take that back, sit your ass down.”

“Make me.” You crossed your arms with a grin and simply watched him curiously.

“Don’t think I won’t climb your raggedy ass and—”

“And what cotton tail?” He flinched when you bent down to get in his face. “Can’t knock me down if you climb me, not that you could on the ground either.”

Jax chuckled nervously but didn’t back down. “Oh yeah? Wanna try?”

Looks like causing mischief would be put on hold for an hour or two.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girls just wanna have fun 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, blackmail, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself

Bucky emerges with a tray and you try not to break your cool demeanour. You don’t want to try too hard. You hear him before you see him, grumbling at Sam who as always, won’t shut up. 

Shelby’s bottle is already empty as she squeezes it between her hands. She sits upright on a chair, teetering on the edge as if she might flee. You wish she’d chill out. As Bucky puts down the tray, you sit up, letting the towel catch on the chair and pull down from your chest. 

“Mm, looks yummy,” you say, trying to look at the chocolate marshmallows and not Bucky. 

You ignore Sam’s scoff as Bucky faces you. You grab the towel and stand, “oops.” 

You open it before you readjust it, showing off your red bathing suit and how little it covers. You notice Bucky look but his reaction is less than you want. He looks away whereas Sam lets his tongue poke out like some stupid horny frat boy.

You roll your eyes and knot the towel firmly. You grab your bottle and drain it, catching up to Shelby as she lingers at the edge of the scene. 

“Another?” Sam offers. 

“Sam,” Bucky hisses. 

“What? Those things aren’t that strong. They're all sugar,” Sam is already reaching into the cooler, another grunt from his stoic friend. “Come on, ladies, help yourself to something sweet.” 

You hesitate and Shelby gulps loudly. 

“The smores,” Sam chuckles and offers both you and your friend a new drink.  

You take yours but give Shelby a long look as she accepts hers. She’s only supposed to be moral support, you can’t send her home blitzed. Oh well, your dad won’t care if she stays over. 

“More for me,” Bucky shrugs and turns his attention to the tray. 

Shelby peers over at you. She’s always waited for you to take the lead and you always did so reluctantly. Not anymore. You’re a woman and you’re making this world what you want. She could take a lesson or two. You take a drink then set your bottle down. 

You come up next to Bucky as he skewers a marshmallow and you do the same. He’s orderly in how he has his little sandwich. The graham crackers are placed neatly side by side and chocolate on top of one, waiting. 

“Did you fix your hose?” You ask, mustering some small talk that makes you want to cringe. 

He doesn’t answer right away. You poke a skewer through a marshmallow and he shrugs, “need a new one.” 

You repress a sigh as he goes to the fire. You hear Sam laughing. You look back but you can’t tell if it’s aimed at you or Shelby as he stands across from her. Oh well. 

You follow Bucky and put your marshmallow over the fire with him. 

“Like I said, you can borrow ours,” you smile. 

“Mm, should I ask your dad?” He challenges as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. 

“I’m an adult, it’s my house too,” you insist. 

“And he’s okay with you being here?” 

“Wow, you know, you’re sounding a lot like him. You two might get along if you tried.” 

“Hm,” he hums and retracts his skewer, “you weren’t always this mouthy.” 

He leaves you by the fire, stunned. You look over your shoulder and pull back the stick, your marshmallow a flame. You blow it out and hurry over to the table. You scramble to make your own sandwich as your host perfectly slides his marshmallow onto the chocolate. Your own is a skew and you burn yourself trying to get the marshmallow off the skewer. 

“Shoulda done that first,” he shakes his head. 

You give him a look. He is quickly breaking the fantasy. You don’t need another father, you need to fuck. Or at least, think about fucking. Ugh, this is a disaster. 

“Thanks, I’ll do better next time,” you smile again. His cheek ticks. 

He takes his sandwich and backs off. You look at yours. You don’t want it. You grab a napkin and put it under the melting stack and carry if over to Shelby. Sam is getting closer, looming over her. 

“Hey, Shel, I made you one,” you offer her the sticky mess. 

“Mm, definitely not the culinary type, are you?” Sam scoffs, “won’t make a housewife of you.” 

“It’s a smore,” you say defensively as you hand over the sandwich. 

“The top is cracked.” 

“Yeah, and? It’ll just break when she bites into it,” you put your hands on your hips as you face him, “like, mind your own business or whatever.” 

He chuckles, “God, you girls are fun.” Shelby slumps further down as Sam’s gross leer dips down in her direction, “not too late for a swim, you girls could come for a dip.” 

Shelby doesn’t say anything and you push your shoulders straight. You can tell she’s uncomfortable and you can only assume what he’s been saying to her. You expected as much but in the moment, you’re not so alright with it all. 

“She doesn’t have a suit and the water’s cold,” you deflect, “but thanks. You’re welcome to go dive in by yourself.” 

“Oh, I can do whatever I want,” he rebuffs, “but I know what you’re looking for, huh? You just wanna see me take my shirt off. All you have to do is ask, baby.” 

He peels off his tee shirts and your grimace. You look at Shelby as she holds the uneaten smore and her half-empty bottle. Oof, slow down, girl. 

You look back at Sam as he puffs his chest out. Ugh, this isn’t supposed to be about him. You look over as Bucky sits on the foot of a lounger and nibbles on his smore, staring into the fire. The flicker casts his features just perfectly. Goddamnit! 

“No one wants to see it--” 

“I know exactly what you want, baby,” he growls and steps closer. You can't deny that his chest is nice, even for his age. He still has a good amount of muscle, though a touch of softness in his stomach. “Don’t worry, I can handle two at a time. She’s kinda sexy, you know? That t-shirt with the turtles is getting me going--” 

You shove him, slapping his chest. That is not alright. Not just him, but you. You shouldn’t have brought her here. You might know what you’re getting into but she didn’t. You’re a lousy friend. 

“Come on, Shelby, let’s go home before my dad gets back.” 

“Oh, yes, run home, but daddy’s right here,” Sam taunts.  

You roll your eyes and wave at Shelby, “come on.” 

“Can I keep the smore?” She asks. She’s tipsy. 

“Sure,” you grab her elbow and take the bottle away from her. You give it to Sam and send him one last scowl. You turn and lift a hand, “bye, Mr. Barnes, see you around.” 

“Baby, you know I can get you what you really want. Just think about what I said,” Sam intones as he steps closer. 

You elbow him away and drag Shelby up the lawn muttering. Fuck. That was so stupid. What a fucking dud. You let yourself through the gate and circle around to your house. 

When you get Shelby through the front door, she has marshmallow and chocolate stuck around her lips. She chews a mouthful as she falls onto the bench by the shoe mat. 

“I’m sorry,” you lean against the wall across from her. She just munches. “I shouldn’t have taken you over there.” 

She looks at you and nods. She’s sleepy. She’s not going to forget any of this and even if she did, you won’t. 

“You don’t get it, Shel,” you push away from the wall and sit next to her. “I don’t know but I just... need to break out. I need something,” you put your elbows on your legs, “it’s not fair to bring you into it but I swear, Shel, by the end of the summer, I am going to fuck Mr. Barnes.” 

“What?” She croaks and chokes down her last bite. “You--” 

“It’s all I think about. I don’t know, I’m so fucking horny all the time. It’s like one day I just woke up and had this need--” 

“Oh?” Her eyes widen again. 

“Don’t look at me like that. Tell me you never got any sort of... urges.” 

“Well, yeah, I guess, but I just... deal with them. Play some switch and forget,” she shrugs, trying to wipe the stickiness from her mouth drunkenly. She seems so childish in tweaks doubt in your chest. Are you out of your depth? 

“I mean it, you know? I’m sorry,” you sit up and lean your head back. “I’m a shitty fucking friend.” 

“Mm,” she hums, “tonight you were, but not always.” 

You smile softly, “how about you kick my ass at some MarioKart?” 

[tojisun]

https://www.tumblr.com/tojisun/739286806700376064/as-a-strange-little-dude-who-collects-bones-im or hear me out…Soap with a little true crime/ conspiracy theory gf! He’d totally get behind the deep dives trying to find the truth!

AHHHHHH YEA I SEE IT I SEE THE VISION!!

shes a goth girl into true crimes/conspiracies!! (esp after how he and bimbo!reader have this conspiracy talk sesh happening?? he’s definitely falling for a true crime/conspiracy theory gf!!)

giggling imagining johnny and his gf (you) hiding from each other their… interest (borderline obsession tbh) because they’re both afraid of being judged. so you know, they’d watch these movies that kinda deal with conspiracies or the main character is being targeted by a serial killer and they’re vibrating on their seats, both holding back from exploding in jittered excitement because they wanna be the chill partner, ykyk?

well, one day, johnny forgot to wheel away his whiteboard of conspiracies (currently, he’s trying to prove that pigeons are govt spies) and you come home to see this board with detailed analyses and accounts; dates are underlined with a red marker, while a blue marker was used to write the names of people who have been “silenced” after “exposing” the “truth” about pigeons. it’s lacking a red string that connects one case to another, but that’s only because johnny was using washytape — the designs are, ironically, birds.

johnny’s in the kitchen, preparing dinner, when he remembers what he forgot; he skids to the living room, hoping to salvage a piece of his dignity, only to see you standing in front of the board, your mouth agape.

“i can explain,” he starts, cringing to himself at hearing just how more suspicious that sounded. “i-”

“oh my god, jock,” you say, breathless in your own excitement. “oh. my. god. jock!”

“what?” johnny asks, confusion now triumphing over his mortification because if you’re still using his nickname, then that must mean things are okay, right?

“wait here!” you scream before turning to run to your room. you flung your bag to the carpet where it sags like a sad potato sack. johnny picks it up and hides it in the closet.

he waits like promised, fiddling with his thumbs while shooting looks between where you’ve ran off to and the board. he rereads some anecdotes, his mind running on overdrive, before snapping his head up at hearing the sound of your feet padding back towards him.

you have about three leather-bound notebooks clutched in your embrace, two of which look worn, while the other it still quite crisp. his nose wrinkles in confusion but johnny decides to wait it out, trusting you to take over.

you fall to the carpet, crowding the coffee table, before urging him to sit beside you. johnny does, his legs knocking against each other as he crouches down and shuffles to move closer to you. he watches as you lay out your notebooks, hands gentle as you begin to flip through the pages.

johnny still feels so lost as to what’s going on.

“mo luaidh?” he asks.

you hum in question, still focused on finding a specific page, he guesses.

“what’re you lookin’ for?”

“oh, just- ah! here!” then you’re thrusting your notebook to him.

johnny takes it with care, his eyes flitting through the pages — “to what end is it satirical? what if, amidst the jokes, the government began to use it in actuality? what if they began to capitalize on it? what if we had given them an excuse to hide behind? had we served them a cover on a silver platter? how do we trust that they’re not conniving enough to truly take advantage of this? ‘birds aren’t real’ but to what extent?”

“what-” johnny’s voice peters. “holy shit?”

he whirls to look up at you. “is this-”

“yes!” you say, giggling. “i thought it was just me!”

johnny drops your notebook back on the table to pluck you from where you sat and plop you on his lap. you laugh when he begins to pepper kisses across your face, exaggerated smooching-noises ringing between you two.

(his office gains another whiteboard.)

—

i went fuckin bonkers again aeojdajef forgive me!!!

ikik the pigeon conspiracy is mostly a parody atp but its just. funny hehaeejr

[pastshadows]

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 13: Imprisonment

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.2K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions. Panic attacks. Anxiety.

The guards aren’t gentle as they march you through the streets, soaked in the mid-morning sun. You were not even extended the courtesy of putting on shoes, and your feet are chilled by the stone-paved roads that have yet to amass any warmth from the sun as they are gouged by pebbles and glass squishing in revolting puddles of fluids you dare not give much thought. The guards push and prod with unyielding pointed tips of their gauntleted fingers, chewing your skin and causing pinprick points of blood to plume on your pale blue shirt.

Mr. Blackwell trails the procession, spitting lies and causing a stir. Waterdhavians whisper in hushed tones, snickering and gawking. Parents holler and cheer as their unruly children throw rocks with their trilling laughter as you progress through the crowds toward the Waterdeep County Jail, which lies just beyond the city walls. It’s a mercy when you reach the large, square-shaped complex.

You instinctively scan the building and surrounding area, counting guards and inventorying potential escape routes and exits. The corridors and halls are a maze as you’re ushered through them into a small, cramped cell. Rubbing the raw skin of your wrists, you realize you don’t occupy this cell alone. Dirty faces with sunken eyes barely reflecting the low light are huddled along the walls, peering at you through the murk. Some are sullen and morose, barely lifting their heads at your arrival, while other’s lips are twisted in repellent smirks.

The air is damp and chilled without the sun to warm it, and you shiver harshly, wrapping your arms around yourself to try and muzzle the nip that feels like it’s penetrating your bones. The Weave doesn’t heed your call when you reach for it, and there’s an uncomfortable hollow pang where your magic usually resides in a burning reservoir.

You limp to the back of the cell and eye a corner that might give you an advantage if one of these ruffians decides to try and see what you’re made of. This is not the first time you’ve been in prison, and just as in the animal kingdom, the weak are conquered.

“I wouldn’t sit there if I were you,” an amiable voice from your left warns. “Tempting as it is, that’s the… lavatory corner.”

“Thanks for the warning,” you mutter with a cringe, peering around to scout out a place to sit and think about how in the Hells to get yourself out of this mess.

“Here,” you hear shuffling, and the woman’s voice growls, telling off whoever was beside her. “You can sit with me.”

You squint to make out details in the dim illumination. The woman is as dirt-streaked as the rest of the prisoners. The Tiefling’s white hair is tied back, and her flaming orange eyes starkly contrast the drabness. She pats the floor beside her with a sincere and kind smile that gives her an appearance of harmlessness. Then again, all the best and worst scoundrels appear innocuous at first glance.

The options are limited, and she looks less malicious than the rest of the brutes huddled around you, so you sit with a feigned affable smile.

“I’m Hecat,” she holds out a deep purple hand. “A pleasure.”

“Nice to meet you, Hecat,” you shake her hand but do not offer your name in return.

You glare at your upturned palms, trying to claw at the Weave, but it doesn’t matter how deep you dig; you cannot even get the faintest of sparks or magic to emit. Having your magic suppressed like this feels akin to having a limb amputated, and you let your head rest on the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

“A sorcerer?” Hecat chimes pleasantly while she throws and catches a small rock for amusement, “Right?”

“How do you know?” You hiss more harshly than you should, narrowing your eyes at the Tiefling.

“Oh! Easy now,” she chuckles and puts up her clawed hands innocently. Hecat points to your face. “Your scales. Draconic sorceress, right? Not many of your kind around. You blend in with those as much as I do with horns.”

“Oh,” your fingers idly dawdle over the glassy-smooth, iridescent scales engraved into your skin. “I’m sorry. I— I’m a little on edge.”

“Not a problem,” Hecat nods curtly with a toothy grin. “We are all a little on edge given the environment we find ourselves in. I’ve been in more pleasant sewer canals.”

“Me too,” you can’t help but let out a small laugh, remembering Astarion’s expression when you told him you had to go trudging around the sewers under the Lower City.

“Come now,” Astarion cringes with an exasperated huff, “Do you really expect me to go down there? In these boots?! With this hair and these nails?! You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You don’t have to join us, Astarion. You are free to lounge around camp while we do all the hard work,” you giggle, rolling your eyes at his theatrics as he glowers at you with crossed arms. “I’m sure Karlach or Halsin won’t mind getting out for a bit.”

“Absolutely not! No, no. Nope! Don’t you dare think about asking me to stay behind.” Astarion clicks his tongue disapprovingly, jutting out a hip and cocking his head defiantly. “There is no way in all nine Hells I will let you go without me. I can’t trust those fools to protect you sufficiently. Where you go, I go, my love. Always. Even if that means I have to go gallivanting through the bloody sewers. Gods above. Well, come on then - lead on. Let’s get this over with.”

“I’m definitely going to splash you when we’re down there,” you laugh mirthfully, jogging away from him, trying to retreat quickly.

“That had better be a joke, Kamena!” He growls. In a couple of soundless, long steps, Astarion picks you up by your waist, crushing your back against his muscular chest, kisses your neck and grumbles low near your ear. “Don’t jest, darling. I bite.”

Astarion whined every minute you spent down there. He annoyed everyone except for you, of course. You could happily listen to that voice nonstop, even when it’s complaining, scoffing at your not-so-funny jokes, or calling you “idiot” or “pig-headed.” Gods. You wish you could hear his voice now. You swallow the urge to cry and scold yourself for being weak. This is not the place for another pathetic breakdown. Inhaling a deep breath, you contract and relax every muscle, from your shoulders to your toes, to centre yourself. You’re not a maiden that needs saving from the jaws of a dragon; you are the dragon, and you will pour oceans of fire and eat the shadows whole.

“Your magic will do you no good down here, I’m afraid. They have an anti-magic field wrapped around this place.”

“Lovely,” you sigh while inspecting your bloodied feet, trying to pick slivers of glass out of the soles.

“Did they drag you straight out of bed or something? Hecat queries.

“You could say that,” you mutter, cool and dry.

Gods. I should have stayed in bed this morning.

“Animals,” Hecat scoffs. She shuffles around and offers you her soiled coat. You glare at her with questions in your eyes. She shrugs nonchalantly, “You look cold. We can share while we’re stuck here.”

The days in prison drag by slowly. It’s hard to know how much time passes in places like this where the sun does not rise or fall, but you’ve been paying attention to the stone’s temperature to figure it out. During the day, the walls and floor are still cold but generally dry. During the night, the bricks are bitterly icy and damp. It’s the best you can do in your situation. Your best guess is that you’ve been here nearly a week. You’ve been watching the guards, their routines, counting how many are on duty at once.

The prison corridors and halls are always well-lit by several wall torches placed at specific increments to leave no corner or cell door obscured by shadow. Sneaking out of this place is unlikely to be feasible. Magic is also out of the question, and there’s no knowing how far the barrier extends. From what you can gather without looking too suspicious, there are always ten to fifteen guards on duty. Pairs of them walk in perfected circuits.

You’ve been taken from the cell a dozen times for interrogations that you’re not sure usually happen. The guards query you about attacking Mr. Blackwell and why you would do such a thing to such a nice man. Then, they move on to his son and ask you where Aldous is. When you don’t answer the guard’s questions, they try to beat the answers out of you.

You’re tired, battered and bruised from head to toe. The last time was particularly rough, and you’re sure that one or more of your ribs have been broken, as indicated by the large hematoma that now extends up your side and the need to take shallow breaths lest the pain make you nearly faint.

Despite the dire situation you find yourself in, you’ve become increasingly close to the Tiefling, Hecat, coming to rely on her much more than you want to. The first night, you accidentally fell into your trance. The other prisoners thought that might be an excellent time to see if you had anything valuable to offer them. Hecat had stepped in and scared them off. She was a formidable Fighter that much is clear to you. Now, you take watch while she sleeps, and she watches when you trance. She also assists you with your wounds in any way she can, which is admittedly not much, but she tries. You continue to share the grimy coat, although she tends to let you have it more often.

If Astarion were here, he would say it’s because you’re “grumpy when you’re cold.” You can practically hear his voice tutting you, and it makes you want to laugh and cry concurrently.

The other captives in your cell have started to dwindle, and the room isn’t so crowded now. You and Hecat have taken a corner to yourself, far away from the dreaded lavatory corner.

“How are those bones of yours today? Hecat asks when she sees you yawn upon waking, wince and strangle back a whine.

“Never better,” you smile, but your voice sounds breathy.

“When they come for you next time.” Hecat snarls with her fists balled at her sides, “I’m going to take them out.”

“Don’t bother,” you sigh, shaking your head. They didn’t seem to take any other prisoners, but you haven’t yet figured out why. You assume Mr. Blackwell has paid them off, “I wouldn’t doubt if they were being paid to torture me personally. It’s fine.”

“You must have pissed off someone with deep pockets.”

Neither of you speaks to the reason you’re in prison. For all you know, Hecat murdered her entire family, or perhaps even worse. But, right now, you need each other, and the alliance has turned out to be rather helpful.

“The guards deviated from their routine last night,” Hecat whispers low, leaning in by your tapered ear. “There was some commotion, but I couldn’t make it out, and they all left their posts.”

This commotion she speaks of, you pray, is not Astarion. Hopefully, Gale has been able to talk some sense into that marvellously beautiful bastard. You’re relieved he hasn’t come in here, blade swinging. It would just cause a further scene that there is likely no coming back from. You believe, on some level, Astarion knows this. You can and will get yourself out of here. It’s just going to take a little time.

But Good Gods, you miss him. His voice, his fragrance, the way he feels like home, safety and happiness. You miss his lips on yours, his hands on your body, and his cock stretching you.

Not the time for these thoughts. Hells, Kamena. Get a hold of yourself.

“Would it have given us a chance?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Hecat shakes her head, “They were all summoned to the gate for something, and if what you’ve said is correct, that gate is the only way in and out of this godsforsaken place.”

Truthfully, you don’t know if that’s even the way out. At most, you know it’s the way out of this wing or sector, but what lies beyond the door is a mystery.

“We just have to bide our time.” You smile half-heartedly at the memory, “A smart friend once told me that “with patience, anything can be done.”

“Sounds like a smart friend indeed,” Hecat winks. There must have been a little too much fondness in your voice when you said that. Damn. “Patience has never been a virtue of mine.”

“Nor mine,” you laugh, but it’s low and almost sullen. You want out of this place before you get taken for another talking to. “But I don’t think we have much choice in the matter right now.”

“Will this friend of yours be coming to perform a heroic rescue anytime soon?” The Tiefling teases with a toothy grin. She’s obviously caught on to the fact that this friend of yours is a little more than a friend. You’re going to have to be more careful, “Throwing rocks is getting very boring.”

“I am hopeful he’s smarter than to come barging into a place he doesn’t know, but there’s still time for him to do something stupid, so who’s to say?"

Hecat laughs, “So, is this friend smart or stupid?”

“I’d wager a little bit of both,” you sigh. Missing Astarion hurts in a way that’s hard to describe. You’re undecided if talking about him is making it harder or easier, “He’s the most cunning man I know, but he can be reckless and a little murder happy.”

“Oh. Murder happy? I like him already,” Hecat says, and although it’s silly, your jealousy flares wildly. It takes considerable effort to remain poised, “What if those brutes come again and take you?"

You’re not sure if her concern is really for your safety or because she thinks you’re the best chance she has of escaping this place.

I assume it’s the latter.

“Don’t worry about it. Really.” You assure her, hiding your fear behind confidence. The beatings have only been progressively getting worse. You’re not sure how much more your body can take.

You are, of course, a little worried that if you do take Hecat with you when you escape, you’re releasing a murderer back into the city, but you’re going to need her fighting skills to get through the guards. You suppose if she is some heinous criminal, you can deal with her after. Astarion would likely be happy to have someone to murder.

Hecat puts a hand on your shoulder to get your attention, “Should we go over the plan some more?”

“Sure,” you nod and start reviewing all your possible escape routes and options.

Currently, you both think the best course of action is to rush the guards when they try to come and drag you away, but that will need to be done at night when fewer guards are on duty. Unfortunately, the guards do not appear for you at night often. There’s a concerning abundance of details that remain unknown. Like the prison layout, for example. You’ve only been in this corridor and one other where the small room of your torment exists. You don’t remember much of what you saw on the way in. There were too many twists and turns, and they made you walk briskly so you couldn’t get a good look at them. Hecat mentioned her arrival was much the same.

You’ve only seen the outside of this place once when you were being brought in. You remember very high stone walls, guard towers and gates. None of these would be any trouble if you had your magic, but you don’t, and you can’t imagine they would stop the anti-magic barrier until you’re at least outside of the complex, which means you will need to figure out how to get over the fucking walls or through the gates while being chased by guards.

No wonder Astarion always says that murder is efficient.

“Not exactly much of a plan,” Hecat snorts, but she already knew this.

“I never was much of a planner,” you shrug and comb your fingers through your increasingly filthy hair, trying to brush the knots and snag out, but to no avail. “Chaos was always more my thing.”

“I like you,” Hecat laughs. “I’ll take the first watch tonight. Get some rest.”

Your cottage amid a heavily forested area is hidden away on the outskirts of Rivington, close enough to the city to enjoy the comforts, shops and taverns and easy access to the forest so Astarion can hunt freely. You’d offered to be his primary food source, and he’d giggled at your enthusiasm to be a vampire’s juice box.

The wildflowers grow in patches, filling the air with a honey-sweet aroma. The tall trees filter the dappled sunlight as they sway slightly in the afternoon breeze. You tap on the door before opening it a crack to warn Astarion to get away from it if he happens to be nearby upon your return home. You only open the door a crack, enough to fit your body through, close and lock it promptly.

“Darling,” Astarion chuckles as he strides toward you with a bemused grin. It doesn’t matter how long you live with this man. You’re always awe-struck by his beauty, especially when he’s smiling at you like he is now - broad, happy, and unashamed to show his fangs. “You know you don’t have to knock when you get home. How many times must I tell you? I can hear your trampling approach long before you arrive.”

“I’m aware. You keep chastising me,” you roll your eyes with a snort. “What if you were tranced or otherwise occupied? Maybe I am extra quiet one day, and you don’t hear me? It’s just safer this way. It hardly takes any effort to knock on the damn door.”

“You, my sweet, fiery love, could never hope to be quiet enough to be successful in such an endeavour,” he taunts with a hand on his hip and boyishly handsome lop-sided grin. “You do realize that even if the sun touches me, I will be fine. It’s not an immediate death sentence. You have seen it for yourself.”

You cringe at the memory of the docks as it warps your heart, making your chest burn with a mixture of rage and despair. You still have nightmares of watching Astarion’s hopeful expression contort into one of mourning as his milk-white skin starts to smoke and turn matte grey. It was just not fucking fair, life rarely is, but this was an injustice that you’re having a hard time reconciling with. Astarion had accepted it with little fuss, but to you, it was unacceptable. You curse every single God in your head for their abandonment of the hero before you.

"I know,” you mutter. Your body suddenly feels heavy, laden under the weight of memories of watching the sunrise together, basking in the sun with him in meadows and fields, the way he was so captivated by colour, and you slam your palms onto the table to stabilize yourself. “I will find a way for you to walk in the sun again, Astarion.”

Astarion’s demeanour changes instantly. He knows this is a sore subject for you, even more so than himself.

“Kamena.” The timbre of his voice lowers into an auditory caramel, soothing, buttery and rich, “It doesn’t bother me any longer. I missed it briefly, but the shadows are part of me. I am at home in them. You are all the light I need in my life. You are my sun, Solicallor.”

The guilt makes tears start to prick your eyes. Astarion should not have to be comforting you over this; you should be comforting him. Your stomach sinks nauseatingly like an anchor has been tied to it and cast into a bottomless ocean. The feeling is so physical that your head spins and throbs.

“I will find a way,” you say, quieter than a whisper through a clenched jaw, but your voice sounds distant even to yourself.

“Sweetheart?” You totter on your feet, and Astarion wraps a solid arm around you. He places his hand, which feels colder than usual, against your forehead and cheeks, “You’re hot.”

“Why, thank you,” you try to giggle through this rather odd stupor you find yourself in and sag into him, allowing him to hold your body weight up.

“Not exactly what I meant.” His warm voice is steeped in cottony concern with a hint of alarm, “You’re a vision, but I mean, your skin feels hot - too hot. I think you have a fever.”

“Oh,” Astarion guides you to a chair to sit on, helping you into it. “I suppose that makes sense. I’m not feeling great.”

“You’re sick?” The tenor of his voice increases into a high treble, showcasing his worry.

“Maybe,” Astarion’s eyes are streaking around the room. No doubt, for some potion, scroll or other supplies that could help. He looks terrified, and you guide his eyes to you. “It’s okay, Astarion. Mortals get sick sometimes. It will pass. It’s nothing to be troubled over.”

“But I—“ he swallows thickly, making his Adam’s apple bob, “I do not know what to do. I haven’t had to worry about being sick in two centuries, and I hardly have practice taking care of someone ill. Tell me what to do. Please. Tell me how I can help you.”

“You don’t have to take care of me.” You walk his bouncing eyes back to you. You would find this a little humorous if Astarion weren’t so clearly distressed. He must understand that not every sickness is terminal, right? In another situation, you might taunt him playfully, but you decide reassurance is the best route. “Everything is okay, my love.”

Astarion places his hands on your forehead, which starts to sheen with sweat and then to your neck and chest. He looks utterly disorientated and afraid, believing a fever might kill you.

“I’ll help you get undressed and into bed,” he finally instructs, but his voice shakes.

Astarion’s fingers have less finesse than usual as he undoes the claps and ties, keeping your robe on, and removes it. Scooping you into his arms, he takes you to the bedroom and gently places you on the bed. Astarion busies himself with removing your underclothes until your bare, even while you protest that you’re okay. He glowers at you, and you’re sure he’s going to call you an idiot, but he keeps his mouth closed, deciding he probably called you an idiot enough with his eyes.

He has.

He pulls his shirt over his head, folds it neatly just as he did for your clothing, and starts unlacing the ties of his breeches. Astarion catches you staring and winks with a roguishly handsome grin, and you think this, right here with him, is bliss. Fever be damned.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” You chuckle but watch in rapture, taking in how magnificent he is; all toned muscle, perfect skin, perfect hair you long to tangle your fingers into and those damn breathtaking red eyes, “I mean... I wouldn’t say no.”

You would, in fact, scream a resounding “yes,” or probably several.

“Bloody Hells. Get your head out of the gutter,” he teases, head falling back and laughing, deep and gravelly. “You have a fever, and I am deathly cold. I don’t know much about mortal sickness, but I’m pretty sure we need to try to break your fever, yes? What better way than to curl up with your cold, vampiric lover.”

“I will take any chance I can get to cuddle naked with my vampiric lover,” you giggle, patting the bed with a theatrical pout, “What are you waiting for? Get in bed, Aerasumé. Come cool me down. I am ever so warm.”

“Always so eager.” Astarion chuckles, climbing into bed and pressing your back to his chest, making sure to get every contour of his body to align with yours. He places a gentle kiss on the back of your neck. “If you’re not feeling better come nightfall, I will fetch Jaheira. She’s still in the city being an absolutely fantastic mother, I assume?”

“Yes, she’s still in the city. She’s helping with rebuilding efforts. I spoke to her the other day, but you don’t need to trouble her.” You shiver against him, and he rubs your arm with his nose in your hair, gripping you tighter to him. “This will pass.”

“I could steal some Potions of Healing or whatever else you need.” His words come a little too quickly, not in his usual balmy, drawling baritone. “Tell me what you need, and I will get it, or I will be fetching the Druid come nightfall. I will drag that wizened elder here if I must.”

“I only need you.” You roll over to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your forehead on his. Astarion hugs you tight as if he’s afraid you might drift away. “Tell me why you’re so scared, Astarion. Surely, you’ve seen sick people before. It’s normal.”

“Of course, I have seen the infirm before,” he says, hands roaming your body in gentle, soothing caresses. You know Astarion is trying to use himself as a vampiric thermometer, but his touch always feels good - so you won’t complain. “The difference is I have never cared about anyone before. Whether they lived or died was of no consequence to me. You are the first person I truly care for. I love you. I can’t lose you. I could not bear it.”

“I love you too. You will not lose me to a fever. You’re stuck with me for hundreds of centuries yet.” He smiles widely at that and kisses you intimately, slow and savouring, with his fingers combed into your hair, massaging your scalp. You suppose one of the perks of having a vampire for a partner is you can’t exactly get him ill.

“Stuck with you for hundreds of centuries, am I?” He pulls you in so that your head is resting on his shoulder and his on yours, “I think I can live with that.”

“You think?” You purse your lips, jutting out your chin in a way that mimics how he does it. It takes a monumental amount of effort to keep your giggling suppressed. “I’m offended.”

Astarion knows you too well and simply chuckles at your display, “You know an eternity with you still wouldn’t be enough, silly thing. Now. If you’re quite done being dramatic, what would you like to do with our day lazing around in the boudoir?”

“Will you read to me?”

“Of course, love,” Astarion points at a pile of books beside the bed. He chooses which book to read on any given day depending on his mood, so he’s always in the middle of several at once, "What would you like me to read today?”

“You pick.” You giggle, making sure it’s the sweetest, chiming giggle he’s ever heard. “But will you do the voices?”

“I don’t know,” he glowers at you playfully while you wrap yourself around him, slinging a leg over him. You’re sure he’s softer than any silk you could ever import, “It’s terribly unbecoming of a hero.”

“Please, Astarion.” You pout, batt your lashes, and give him your best puppy-dog eyes. “I am sick.”

“Ugh,” he rolls his eyes, trying to look irritated, but it fails as the corners of his perfect lips twitch up, “You’re too fucking adorable. It’s inconceivably irritating. Fine, but only because you are not feeling well! If you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“What fun!” you snicker.

“Get up, dragon girl!” Hecat is furiously shaking you from your trance.

It takes you a minute to become fully aware of the clash of steel swords vibrating like a swarm of angry bees bounding off the cold stone walls. Metal boots thud, sprinting down the corridors with the angry wails and roars of battle.

“What in the Hells is going on?” You ask, looking to Hecat for answers. Your heart is pounding in your chest, requesting more breath than you can give it without feeling the shooting agony of your fractured ribs.

“I don’t know,” Hecat shrugs. “I tried to get a look, but the bloody cells are designed so you can’t see much of anything going on beyond a couple of feet.”

Please. Please. Don’t be Astarion.

Shoving and pushing the other prisoners away from the cell door, you try to get a good look, craning your neck to see if you can view anything over the stone lip, but as Hecat had said, visuals are limited. These cells are built depressed into a thick block arch to block prying eyes. You can see, at best, about halfway up the corridor, give or take a little. The melodies of battle are only increasing, but where there were bellowing battle cries and roars. Now, there are screams and pained yelps for help, but whether the screaming is from the attackers or the guards – you're unsure.

You and Hecat slink to the back of the cell together, giving yourself distance from the other prisoners so you can talk in private. Thankfully, everyone else is too focused on what’s happening outside the cell to pay you any heed.

“This wouldn’t happen to be your daring friend trying to rescue you,” Hecat waggles her brows with a saucy grin. “Would it?”

You shake your head at her, “No, I doubt it. My friend would not create this much havoc.” Something doesn’t feel quite right, and it’s nagging at you. You rub your arms to try and dispel some of your rising anxiety, “No. This wouldn’t be a rescue for me. Something else is going on here.”

Hecat gives you a once over, “You’re not wearing any shoes, and your ribs are still broken. You’re in no shape to be running, even if we manage to get out of here. Much less battling with guards and who knows what.”

“You let me worry about myself,” you scoff, crossing your arms with a scowl. Hecat has no idea who you are, and you’ve kept it that way on purpose. Although, you are sure that you don’t look very battle-proficient right now. “If I fall behind, you can leave me and get yourself out. You don’t owe me anything.”

“You think I would leave you behind?” Now it’s Hecat’s turn to scoff and glower at you. You like her, but you only trust her as far as you can throw her, and that isn’t far at all.

“Look,” you try to put your silver tongue to work. The last thing you need right now is to fight with the one person who has helped since you got here. “I didn’t mean it like that. If I become a burden, you need to watch out for yourself. I might not seem like much, but I have been in countless battles. I can hold my own with or without shoes and intact ribs.”

Hopefully.

“Can you use a sword?” Hecat’s pacing, tapping her lips in the usual way she does when trying to think, “If we could procure some from the guards, we might have a better chance.”

“No,” you admit, almost sheepishly. “But if we can get our hands on a dagger, I am slightly better with those. I am death incarnate when I have my magic, though. If we can get out from under the suppression, that’s where I will really shine. Admittedly, I won’t be much help here.”

“That’s okay,” Hecat smiles, patting your arm. “We planned to run, and I think that’s exactly what we should do as soon as we get the chance.”

“I agree. Running is our best bet. There are too many guards for only the two of us.”

Hecat nods and keeps talking strategies, but you’re drawn away from the conversation as you listen to the screaming getting quieter and the clash of blades reducing. There’s an odd aroma in the air. You’ve smelt it before, but it’s not quite strong enough to connect any specific memory to; it smells organic, earthy, wet, and cold. Whatever that smell is, even if your brain cannot comprehend it, it seems your body does. You’re shaking, surging with adrenaline, but you cannot place the unease you’re feeling.

There’s commotion in the hallway by the cells near the front where you can’t see. All the prisoners seem to gasp at once and start screaming, skittering and flailing. You can hear the sound of boots grating on the ground as they press themselves up against the walls of their cells. The high-pitched screeching of iron bars being wrenched on and doors being forced open increases the utter cacophony. People shout, but you cannot make the word out when it’s buried under so much noise.

You and Hecat push your way to the front of the horde, everyone trying to stick their heads through the bars so they can see what’s going on. They step on your bare toes with boots, and elbows smash into your already smashed ribs, making you let out a whimpering breath.

Hecat is right. You’re in no shape to fight or run.

Suddenly, it hits you like a gust of icy wind of a summer’s day, freezing you to your core and sending shivers down your spine. Your maltreatment wasn’t done as some pointless abuse at the hands of petty guards - no. They weren’t truly interrogating you for information or because they were paid to make your stay here extra special.

Someone wants you to be weakened, hurt, and your magic stripped away.

Someone needs you to be weak and helpless.

But that still begs the question - who and why?

You catch rapid glimpses of a pale arm here and an ashen leg there. They are sickly looking, slim and emaciated. Your heart palpates in your chest as you remember where you last smelled that raw organic scent.

The Szarr Palace.

You drift to the back of your cell, taking Hecat with you until your backs are pressed against the stone. Hecat quirks a brow at you, obviously confused with the dread you’re sure is framed in the features of your face. Sticking your hands behind your back, you hope she didn’t notice them trembling.

You swallow and whisper, “Have you ever fought vampire spawn before?”

Questions march through your head like a restless army, but you try to focus on the most important ones. How many spawn will you need to outrun? You shudder at the thought. You know firsthand how quick vampire spawn are, and your fingers hover over your broken ribs.

Hecat gawks at you with brows raised so high they look like they might be trying to mount her scalp. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Vampires,” you repeat hoarsely, obliviously trying to fight back tears. “Have you ever fought them before?”

You just got Astarion back, and now you might fucking die here in this prison after being arrested for a crime you didn’t even commit. What kind of cruel joke is this? Why can’t life give you a damn break? Why can’t you have a happily ever after with the man you love?

Fear suddenly relents and bursts into anger, and you stoke those flames to kindle it because anger is far more productive than fear.

Hecat is looking at you with a slack jaw and round eyes, “How do you know what’s out there is vampire spawn?”

“I have had a lot of experience with vampires.” You try to keep your intonation as unwavering as possible. “You don’t have to take my word for it. You will see them soon enough.”

“Yes,” Hecat confirms. Her forehead creases in worry, “I have some experience with them, but not much. I tend not to enter into battles I’m not sure I can win.”

Smart woman. Maybe I need to take a page from her book.

“The plan is still the same,” you instruct. “Run and only fight when you have to.”

“They are fast!” Hecat is pacing now, hands in her hair. “There’s no way we can outrun them, especially with you injured and magicless.”

“With this much blood, they will be frenzied. Their bloodlust will make them distracted. It works in our favour.”

“And the others?” Hecat points to the horde of prisoners still trying to figure out what’s happening, craning their necks at the gates.

In another life, you might have tried to save them, but you’ve learned that not everyone can be saved.

“Fodder.”

Hecat eyes widen at your detached answer, but she doesn’t have time to argue with you as the first spawn start coming into view from your cell. Everyone jumps back from the bars as their bloodied fangs snap, claws clench, and they hiss like snakes. Their eyes bore into you, black and glowing crimson like Astarion’s siblings when they were under Cazador’s compulsion.

“Oh, fuck,” you hear Hecat stutter as several more come to stand before the cell.

“Get ready,” you slide your feet across the stone floor, curling your toes into it, testing your purchase.

The spawn lunge at the cell door. Their teeth snap around the iron bars with loud, metallic pinging. They wrap their hands around the bars and pull with ferocious growls. The metal whines under the force, the stone where the door is moored cracks and crumbles, and the door gives way.

The spawn flood the cell like an ashen wave, cresting with bared frothing fangs over a restless, screaming sea.

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. I'm forever thankful for the support. I love reading your comments :) Keep them coming (if you feel like it - of course 😅)

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

AO3: Crossposted

If you're interested, I also write fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Small Notes:

Expect us to stay in Kamena's POV 75% of the time, but we will be returning to Astarion's eventually. I want Astarion's POV to remain interesting and special, so there will be less of it. We're still going to explore more of what he got up to when he left though.

Vampire attacking the prison? Why? Is it Mr. Blackwell's doing or something more sinister?

I just want to express that I hate, loathe, detest, Mr. Blackwell.

[m4sonn]

⋆୨୧˚The Outsiders greaser Gang x Hyperfem!reader˚୨୧⋆

Thanks to my friend @peachyponyboyy and the anon who recommended this for this story!!

ponyboy:

> doesn’t mind that you’re feminine

> genuinely doesn’t care what you wear as long as you like him back and aren’t a shit person

> if you’re a boy he’s terrified that you’re gonna get jumped so he protects you with his life, it’s Oklahoma in the 60’s I don’t imagine they’re very accepting about two gay guys and a guy who wears skirts

> he hates the way makeup feels on his face but he’ll (begrudgingly) let you practice on him every once in a while after a bit of begging and whining

> would genuinely rather kill himself than wear anything feminine

> draws you a lot, if you sew/make your own clothes he makes you outfit designs he thinks would look good on you

> likes to help styling hair and encourages you to try new things (like dye and new cuts and styles etc)

> if you’re a guy he was probably scared to introduce you to his friends and brothers in fear of them judging him and you but they didn’t mind you

> calls you “baby” and “honey”

Sodapop:

> likes more feminine people

> likes helping you choose outfits

> if you ask him for help choosing a shade he’ll ask questions like what are you wearing, how are you doing your hair, what vibe are you going for etc to make sure he chooses the best choice

> helps style your hair for you

> jokes around and lets you do makeup on him and even tries on fem clothes with you sometimes at stores

> constant shower of compliments

> talks about you like he talks about sandy in the movie

> 100/10 waist hugger, hugs you from behind and rests his head on your shoulder or back of your head

> introduced you to his friends right when you two met but introduced you as a friend and then reintroduced you as his gf/bf later when you two started dating

> calls you “cutie”, “sweet boy/girl”, “sweet pea” or “baby boy/girl” (cringe I know)

Darry:

> doesn’t mind it

> type of guy to remind you to close your legs when you’re sitting down

> makes sure your skirt doesn’t ride up too much while out in public/tells you if you don’t notice

> hates the feeling of lip gloss but is willing to get some on his lips to kiss you

> kisses your hand a lot all gentleman like

> you were probably more scared than him to meet his gang and brothers (by more scared I mean that he was totally chill abt it), he just kind of brought you along one time just randomly to a group hang out and they were just chill abt it.

> calls you “sweetie”, “honeybun”, or “peaches” (I hc his favorite fruits as peaches)

Dally:

> usually dates fem people only so you’re right up his alley (sorry mascs, he’s only for the fems‼️‼️)

> mainly only dated girls

> likes to take you shopping with the little spare money he has

> likes to see you try on clothes cause it just makes you look so happy

> adamant that he’s straight (he’s not) and if he dates a guy he says that you’re “close enough” and that it isn’t gay. He doesn’t realize how much this hurts you and only realized how this made you feel after Johnny and pony pulled him off to the side to talk to him about it cause they realized how you always got quiet and awkward after he said that

> likes his partners a bit nerdy but still confident so if you’re a dude who’s confident enough to be feminine in public but is still a little shy and has those nerd glasses he’s ALL OVER YOU‼️‼️

> probably puts his hand on your thigh under your skirt while sitting next to you

> whenever you bend over he’ll slap your ass

> likes to take you out and show you off to his friends, right off the bat when you started dating he went to his friends to show off his new partner

> calls you “pretty boy/girl”, “doll”, or “doll face”

Johnny:

> loves you for who you are and not how you dress

> constantly telling you how cute your outfits are on you

> like pony if you’re a boy he’s terrified of you being jumped for being a feminine gay guy and protects you with his life, gives you a switchblade just in case, even if both of you know you’d never use it.

> waist grabber/hugger and no one can change my mind, when you’re wearing a tighter top that shows off your waist is when he does it most

> goes feral when you wear a shorter skirt

> I don’t imagine his mom to be a very feminine person other than meeting pony boy’s mom so you are like the only feminine person he’s really ever talked to so he knows nothing about how to help with outfits or makeup etc but tries his best to help with whatever

> was trying to grab a makeup pallets for you and he dropped it and broke it and cried while apologizing

> was pretty scared to introduce you to the gang (especially if ur a boy) but he told Dallas first and helped him introduce you to the gang after reassuring both of you they’d love you (they adored you and loved that Johnny finally found someone)

> calls you “sweetie”, “darling”, or “my beautiful amazing pretty amazing most perfectest bestest boy/girlfriend (yes he would call you this)”

Two-Bit:

> usually likes more fem lovers so he doesn’t mind you being fem

> If it’s modern day he yells gyatt at you and slaps your ass when you bend over ☹️☹️

> let’s you do his makeup and sometimes his sister joins in and you two either actually do his makeup or you just smear a bunch of products in his face

> his mom and sister LOVE YOU.

> when he brought you home his sister was all over you, enjoying having another feminine person in the house other than her mom cause two bit is “a nasty stinky and unhygienic boy” and she’s “glad to know that he finally has someone who might be able to get him to straighten up a bit and stop being so gross. And maybe you can even help that drinking problem of his.”

> you cackled after she said this but two bit didn’t take it as well and chased her around the house 💞💞

> he was so excited to introduce you to the gang, right when the two of you started dating he wanted to introduce you to them but he let you choose when, they loved you :3

> calls you “babe”, “baby”, “cutie”, and “sweet cheeks” (ur literally the Minnie to two bit’s Mickey)

Steve:

> doesn’t mind that you’re feminine

> he’s gay, only dates dudes, sorry girls 😋😋😋

> doesn’t know anything about fem clothes n stuff cause he grew up with only his dad but he tries his best :///

> When you guys go to watch bull fights or drag races he totally lets you sit on his lap, he could NOT care less if people are staring.

> likes to take you to drag races and even lets you be in the car with him when he’s in one

> likes to show you off, flexes how he managed to get such a pretty bf

> touchy asf

> was scared to introduce you to his dad but he did eventually, his dad was confused (“so that’s not a girl??”, “wait so what you’re tellin’ me is yur’ one of them queers??”) and physically could not bring himself to believe you were a boy because you’re so fem, but accepts you two

> he yaps to the gang abt you, like never shuts the fuck up and it annoys the hell out of them

> introduced you to them immediately

> calls you “darling”, “my love”, or “babe/baby”

[andreablog2]

That margarita Down syndrome PSA is so real but I feel like it applies to high functioning cringe autism too. If you give people the chance to be chill they will be chill…for me it doesn’t apply bc my special interest is appearing normal but the more you talk to me the more you realize I’m on the spectrum which is disappointing to some I guess. But honestly I challenge all of you to talk to a cognitively disabled person the way you would anyone else and expect nothing of them and be as suspicious as you would of anyone else and your relationship will develop normally. You probably won’t get along if you don’t get along w a lot of people but if you are a people person it’s not hard to vibe w autistic people. Everyone is just insecure as far as where they are on the autism spectrum so they shame others so they aren’t “it” or they’ll opportunistically identify as autistic in a twee oopsies way when they feel a different kind of insecurity. It’s childish but it’s where we are at in life.

[monkayemporor]

Poly parenting!

Synopsis: Life in a poly relationship with male reader and fem!Blue Lock

Featuring: Kaiser Ness Rin Isagi Sae Shidou

NOTES: I hope this isn’t cringe! Should I make part 2?

-You can pray to whoever you want, but it’s definite that you’ll have gray hairs by the time you’re 30.

KAISER & NESS

-It started with you and Kaiser dating each other, no Ness in the picture.

-Then one day Kaiser asked if she could bring her pet over. And like any sane person, you thought it was an actual animal.

-Imagine your surprise when she pulled up with a human being, Alexis Ness. 

 “Dear, that’s not an animal…”

 “I said I was bringing over my mutt. This is her.”

 “...”

-Ness acts like you’re the biggest cockblocker between her and Kaiser (you are) and hates your ass.

-Though, you and Ness grow closer over Kaiser, and eventually, all three of you fall in love with each other.

-Timeskip to the wedding day and it’s crazy. With Kaiser demanding something suitable of a empress like her. While you and Ness just stood on the sidelines. 

-But you manage to get past the vows and onto the honeymoon. 

-Moving onto kids, I can see the idea of one kid. (You can decide who carried them. Or if they were adopted) 

-And if it’s not obvious, neither of them is strict with the child. 

-Ness saying ‘no’ is quite literally impossible and Kaiser isn’t exactly helping by spoiling them rotten. So it’s up to you to play the role of ‘Strcit Dad’ 

-Only the best schools for the kid. And according to Kaiser, they must be raised in Germany. Even if you aren’t German. But the child can still learn your native language.

-Ness is literally in bliss because her dream of a family with Kaiser (and you) has finally come true.

-Kaiser’s ego takes a boost whenever she takes the family on vacations or just days out. She simply adores the praise and loves showing off her child. 

-While you’re married to an egotistical narcissist and an obsessive woman, all you can do is pray your kid doesn’t end up like either of them.

ISAGI & RIN

-You either knew what you were doing when you started dating both rivals, or no clue. Absolutely no in-between. 

-You knew Isagi from being her childhood best friend, and once when she invited you to a party celebrating the latest match (totally just because you were friends), you couldn’t help but catch her rival’s eye. Rin Itoshi.

-Thus began the competition between both strikers to win your heart. At first, you entertained it but after the fourth fight of the week, you had to put your foot down and decided enter a poly relationship with them.

-The wedding day isn't easy either. But both women manage to shut up and get through the vows for this marriage. 

 “Do you take Yoichi Isagi and Rin Itoshi as your wives?”

 “Fuck no.” (What should’ve happened 🤡)

-Their rivalry extends to even the kids. One kid from each mother. Why? I don’t know either. The only thing that’s concrete was the fact that you couldn’t walk for some time once they were done with you.

-Two daughters from one striker and a son from the other. Making only two guys vs. four ladies (Trust me it’s not fun)

-Rin’s determined to turn her kids into football stars while Isagi’s more laid back and chill. 

-You can usually find Isagi asleep on the couch with the children whenever she returns late from practice. 

-Isagi also tends to show off pictures of her kids to her teammates which quickly gets annoying, forcing Rin to hold her back. 

-Rin acts like she doesn’t smother your kids in affection behind closed doors.

 “Our children are better than Sae’s.”

 “But she doesn’t even have any?” 

-Praying for your sanity in this marriage.

SAE & SHIDOU

-You were kidnapped for the wedding by Shidou.

-You and Sae knew each other from Spain, where you were assigned as her manager. But unlike the previous ones, the midfielder enjoyed you and found you slightly less annoying than the others. 

-Being the only one she liked, you two managed to bond over football and life. 

-Really good friendship and then you started to date her privately. 

-You met Shidou during the U-20 game where she scared the shit out of you.

-Sadly, when Sae gave this batshit crazy mfer her number, she gave yours too. Why? No idea.

-You and Sae were forced to endure the most out-of-pocket texts (she sent nudes-)

 “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

 “I mean…they’re bigger than yours…”

-When Shidou broke into Sae’s place, she caught you and the midfielder doing…stuff.

-Chaos ensued.

 “We’re going back to Spain, [Name].”

 “FINALLY!”

 (This never happened. Author simply has no idea what he’s doing)

-What actually happens is Shidou forcing Sae, who forced you, into a relationship. 

-At this point, contemplate suicide because there’s no way you’re physically surviving Shidou. Whether in bed or not. 

-Timeskip to the wedding and despite your prayers, Rin Itoshi shows up. Ensuing chaos 0.2

“Why is Rin staring at you, Shidou.”

 “...Shidou?...”

-The wedding ends with both Rin and Shidou in the hospital while you and Sae just…

-When it comes to kids, Shidou’s the most enthusiastic about. (Who could forget the womb scene?)

-You and Sae on the other hand aren’t really into the idea. 

 “We have to have kids! To leave our mark on the world!”

 “...”

 “...”

-In the end, you guys give in and have a kid. One son to be exact that Shidou carried.

-Sae’s still not onboard until the kid finally arrives.

-Then she acts as if she always wanted a kid. 

-Shidou’s always egging the boy on fights and loves having fun with him.

 “We told you to not let him beat up the other kid!”

 “Sorry, not sorry.”

-You can pray to whoever you want, but it’s definite that you’ll have gray hairs by the time you’re 30.

NOTES: You can tell I was running out of idea towards the end…But anyway! If you guys want me to do a part two, it’ll have Nagi/Reo Noa/Ego and Barou/Lorenzo!

[scp230kinnie]

Hi! Can you do head cannons for hunter from metal, lords,and he dating reader but reader lives in a troubled home? Sorry if this doesn’t make sense English is not my first language

Yesss

Hunter Sylvester x troubled Home! Reader (Headcanons)

Warnings: troubled home, abuse mentions, not proofread, cringe

⚠️ i do Not come from a troubled home, and I have little past history of abuse. If I get any information wrong or say anything hurtful, please let me know and I will immediately make changes

He tries to comfort you as best as he can.

He himself is uncomfortable around his father sometimes (canonically), but he doesn’t use it to try to compare your situations,, as he knows he’s in a very fortunate situation

However he does understand feelings of loneliness etc

He tries to be very patient with you. He already has low patience, but he really does try with you

He lets you come over to his place whenever you want. He knows how rough it can be with you.

Even if he has friends over, he’s willing to let you come over whenever you need

He prefers not to when he’s in a bad mood, because he’s scared he’s gonna lash out at you, but he does let you come over either way

He’s not sure if your parents are okay with you guys dating, so offers to keep it a secret if you want

He knows that if you don’t message him for a while, you probably got your phone taken away, so he doesn’t worry too much, he just assumes he’ll see you at school

If you don’t show up at school, he’ll be a bit worried,, but he doesn’t really show it

He’ll find some way to make sure you’re okay

If you ever need to vent, he’ll always listen

If you’re ever shit talking you parents, he will gladly join if you’re comfortable with that

He gets DEEP into it though

He is relentless until you tap his shoulder like… chill out a bit

He doesn’t like telling you to talk to counsellors cause… fuck authority or whatever he believes… unless you really need to.

He will try his best to find solutions and help you with things, even if he’s not really the best at it

If you aren’t allowed to listen to loud music or whatever, he’ll be so pissed like “what the hell do you mean your parents won’t listen to metal. I’d literally die if I was in your situation” or something like that

He will encourage you to make your own decisions, regardless of what your parents think. (Fuck authority, once again)

If your parents are like, super religious, he’ll try his best to be supportive of it. He might even go to church with you

Might

Yeah he’ll complain, but if you ask enough, he will comply

He feels really guilty when you get into fights/arguments

He comforts you as best he can

He is always a place of support and comfort whenever you need it

That’s all thanks guys

More rqs pls

[heartkaji]

[ ★ ⸻ @meowkages ]

★ OVERVIEW

HI AMY !! your ask had me giggling you’re hilarious 😭anyways with you and reo, you’re definitely his hyperactive gf while he’s the calm one. i feel like when reo got with you he 100% didn’t even worry about you being a gold digger. in fact you guys would be so funny tg, he’d buy you something nice but not that impressive or take you to a restaurant he feels is low key just decent but you’d be hysterical because you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen 😭 yk what you guys remind me of ? sasha and niccolo in a way. i’m not sure why but it was the first thing that popped in my head honestly 🚶‍♀️

Q1 — HOW DID YOU FIRST MEET ?

at a cybercafe. he’s there to meet with nagi (who’s running late unsurprisingly) and you’re seated at the desk beside him. he’s struggling with the mechanics of the game he’s playing and after cringing and pitying his attempts, you decide to help out. after you give him a step by step tutorial (while humbly bragging about your high score) he hands you a wad of cash for your time. your brows furrow. “hey, do i look like some charity case to you ?” you question as you tuck the cash into your pocket 🧍‍♂️. reo blinks. he frantically denies your accusation and you let him off the hook right as nagi arrives. reo introduces you two and he’s surprised to find that you and nagi already know each other, gaming buddies who had met at that cafe. reo is looking to get more into games so you two exachange numbers, and from that day on you all become some sort of trio

Q2– WHAT DO OTHERS THINK OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP ?

nagi likes you. well, that’s mostly because you two play video games with each other. he doesn’t particularly care about your relationship all that much, but he also doesn’t mind having you around. he DOES mind the fact that reo can’t seem to stop talking about you. it’s always “do you wanna hear this funny joke amy told me ?” or “oh! that reminds me of what amy said..” he’s low key sick of it but he can’t bring himself to tell reo to shut up, so he nods and gives an occasional “uh huh” as he plays games on his phone while reo goes on about you

reo’s parents aren’t too involved in his personal life, but they do hope your relationship is just a phase. they want reo to marry some rich heiress and expand the mikage empire, not some normal civilian girl. they’re really sweet to you though. you’ve only met them once when reo introduced you, but they were pretty chill. you couldn’t help but feel on edge the entire time, but you’d think anyone would feel that way when standing next to the mikage billionaires.

your friends are more invested in your relationship than you are 🤦‍♀️ your close friends are pretty normal about your relationship, but they’re always teasing you about your ‘billionaire boyfriend’. also keep in mind that once you’re dating reo you are no longer allowed to be broke. if you miss a dinner party because it’s out of budget, your friends will immediately get on your case : “what about your boyfriend?” “just ask your sugar daddy for money.” you try to avoid to because you don’t want reo feeling like you’re only with him for money, but trust me it’s okay. he’d never think that, and honestly normally you wouldn’t have to ask. at the beginning of your relationship he offered to have monthly deposits paid to your account but since that was early in the relationship you refused to be polite. now you’ve been looking for ways to bring his offer back up to him without seeming like a gold digger 🤦‍♀️

Q3 — WHO FELL FIRST ; WHO FELL HARDER ?

reo fell first, and i can imagine you being kinda oblivious to his intentions. i imagine that when he realized he liked you, he’d try to win you over with lots of gifts and expensive items. you’d take it greatfully but you always thought nothing of it; nagi seemed to be spoiled by reo as well so you simply saw it as a benefit of being friends with a mikage. in fact, i can totally see you sibbling zoning him at some point 😭 like maybe he notices your shoes are worn out so he buys you a new, more expensive pair, and when you ask him if he got it because he noticed your shoes were pretty unwearable, he says yes and you tell him he’s like a brother, constantly looking out for you. this sends reo over the edge and triggers him to be more direct. soon he’s buying you flowers, and eventually he straight up asks you on a date. you agree immediately and it catches him by surprise because all this time a part of him believed you didn’t share his affections, but you admit that all along you thought he didn’t like you and you didn’t want to be egotistical and assume he did 🤦‍♀️ yeah both of yall share a brain cell but that’s okay 🤞

i can’t say exactly who fell harder, but i believe you often have your relationship with reo on your mind more than he does. i can imagine you always kind of overthinking your relationship: what his parents think of you, if you’re good enough for him, how long till you break up, etc. it’s the pressure of dating the heir to some gigantic company. although you love reo for who he is outside his last name, as his partner you’re very immersed in his life as a corporate heir. you’ve had to attend all sorts of dinners and events and each time you can’t help but feel out of place. reo plays the role of calming you down and reassuring you that you’re more than enough, fuck what anyone else has to say. i’d say you’re both equally spretty smitten with each other, but you take the cake in terms of being more invested—because of the circumstances, your relationship often spends a lot more time in your head than reo’s.

>> 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 <<

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[matty-bear]

I. The Party [N.S]

Type: Chapter one of The Influencer series

Pairing: Nick Sturniolo x Male!OC

Warnings: SFW, mentions of drinking

Summary: The triplets find themselves at a large influencer party located in downtown LA. What will happen when Nick finds himself getting assisted by Finn when he’s struggling to get some drinks for him and his brothers? And what will be Nick’s response when Finn sends him a message after they exchanged numbers at the party? 

Notes: So excited to write this series! Hope you all enjoy reading the first chapter of The Influencer :D

WC: 2371

CH2 CH3

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Considering how popular they’ve become in the past year, the triplets have been invited to an influencer party somewhere in downtown LA. The boys aren’t fans of parties, let alone if it’s a large one where a bunch of influencers are going to attend. However, Nick managed to persuade Matt and Chris to go, saying that it could be a good opportunity for them to meet new people and possibly make connections. 

Around an hour before the party was said to begin, all three boys got ready. They weren’t going to be in suits and whatnot since it’s not a fancy event and instead put together comfortable yet stylish outfits. Once they got themselves together, they all filled inside the car and headed downtown. 

“Is this the right place?” Matt asks, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of a large penthouse with colored lights flashing around it in front of them. 

“Yeah, this is what the address said.” Nick replies, peeking out of the window and gnawing at the sight of the hundreds of cars around the building. 

“Let me find a spot and we can head in.” Matt begins to drive closer towards the building. He speeds up a little when his eyes land on an empty spot a few cars away from the building. After parallel parking into the spot, he puts the car in park and the three boys exit the vehicle. 

“Try to stay together and don’t do anything stupid.” Nick says, guiding them towards the penthouse. Once arriving at the front door, a guard appears in front of him demanding their names. One by one, the three tell the male their full names and bid small thanks when he steps aside to let them into the house. 

“Holy shit.” Chris mumbles, the sound of loud chatter and music flooding his ears in an instant. 

“Can we find somewhere a little less crowded to chill?” Matt asks, his hand immediately reaching up to fiddle with the horse chain around his neck. Nicks nods his head and scans the large space for a moment before he drags Chris and Matt to an area in the back side of the house. 

“Fucking hell. This place is huge and we’re barely on the first floor.” Chris says with a huff as he plops down on a large sofa away from the few people sitting on it. 

“Tell me about it.” Matt mumbles, him and Nick taking a seat on both sides of the younger. The oldest of the three continues to scan the large crowds moving together in unison around them as the younger two whip out their phones. After around fifteen minutes of sitting around and people watching, Nick gets up abruptly. 

“Where are you going?” Chris asks, his gaze immediately shifting up to the older. 

“Ima find something to drink. Y’all want anything?” Nick replies, looking between the two males who are gazing up at him. 

“Can you get me a drink, drink?” Chris asks, his statement earring an eyebrow raise from the older.

“You want an alcoholic beverage?” Nick clarifies. 

“Yeah. Just a light one though. Nothing too crazy.” 

“Alright. I’ll be back.” Chris nods his head in acknowledgement before Nick walks back into the crowds of people. He cringes as multiple people push and stumble into him. After a moment of struggling to push through the crowd, Nick finds the drink area.

Surprisingly, no one was occupying the room so the red-head quickly made his way to the large selection of alcoholic beverages. Panic and confusion hit him like a large wave as he stares at the countless bottles displayed in front of him. 

“You need help over here?” The sudden voice causes Nick to jump and quickly turn around on his heels. He opens his mouth to respond but the sight of the tall male in front of him causes him to panic and freeze in his spot. Nick finds himself eyeing the boy up and down a few times, gay panic fully setting in as he takes in his appearance.

Dark blue hair, defined cheekbones, two silver chains around his neck, a few rings littering his long and slim fingers which hold an empty shot glass, a blue and black striped ripped sweater, (which was hanging very loosely on his shoulders) black baggy jeans, and Doc Martens. Nick could’ve sworn he saw a glimpse of a tattoo under his sleeve but he wasn’t entirely sure, the various colored lighting being no help to his case.

“Hello?” The male taps Nick’s shoulder with his pointer finger, seeming to snap the boy out of his trance as he looks back up at him. 

“Umm.. Hi, sorry.” Nick apologizes, a subtle blush coating his cheeks in an instant. “I have no idea what I’m doing, I apologize. I’m not a drinker so all of this is very confusing to me.” 

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We all start out as beginner drinkers. You need help picking something out?” The blue haired male asks, his long earring touching his shoulder as he tilts his head to the side. 

“God, please. Nothing too strong.” 

“I got you, don’t worry.” Nick watches as the male in front of him sets the glass in his hand down on the marble countertop to grab a small glass from the cupboard behind him.

“Do you mind pouring me like two?” 

“Yeah, of course! Two drinks coming right up.” As the male begins to make the drinks, Nick finds himself staring at him again, the small blush on his cheeks darkening a shade or two as he eyes his side profile. “Here you go, two Gin and Tonic cocktails. This is the simplest of drinks in my opinion so you should be perfectly fine if you down the whole thing.” 

“Perfect, thank you so much.” Nick smiles at the male, the smile he returns making him melt before he takes the two drinks from him.

“Oh, I’m Finn by the way.” Finn greets, picking up his shot glass to pour himself another drink.

“Nick.” 

“Great to meet you, Nick. Will I be seeing you around later tonight?” Nick opens his mouth to reply but the sound of quick footsteps coming behind him causes him to temporarily halt his actions and turn around. 

“The hell is taking so long?” Chris asks, stopping short of a few steps behind the red-head. His eyes flicker up to Finn for a moment before he looks back at Nick. 

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Nick says, sending a warning look to the younger who rolls his eyes and walks off. The red-head turns around, an apologetic expression on his face as meets eyes with Finn again. “Sorry, I gotta go. I’m sure I’ll see you later though.” 

Finn nods his head and holds his glass out in front of him. Nick eyes the glass for a moment, confused, before he gently clinks his glass with Finn’s. The latter shoots the male a smile before he bids him farewell and walks off. Once the male is out of eyeshot, Nick mumbles a “holy shit” under his breath before hurrying back through the crowds of people to get back to Matt and Chris. 

“There you are. The hell was taking you so long?” Matt asks, his arms crossing as he eyes the red-head. 

“He was flirting with some guy while getting the drinks.” Chris replies, watching with a teasing smile as Nick grows flustered at his response. 

“I was not!” Nick defends. “He was just helping me get drinks because I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.” 

“Sure kid.” Nick rolls his eyes and sits on the sofa next to Matt. He offers one of the glasses to him and raises an eyebrow when the younger shakes his head. 

“I’m driving us back. Did you forget I’m the only one out of the three of us that can drive?” Matt questions, his gaze falling down to the rings hugging his fingers. 

“You’ll live if you have some. Finn said it’s a light drink so you should be fine.” Nick reassures, turning over to Chris who’s sending him a questioning gaze. “What?”

“So you know his name.” Chris states, gently taking one of the glasses out of Nick's hand to take a sip. 

“Drop it, Chris.”

“Someone’s getting defensive.” Chris raises an eyebrow at the older who sends him a threatening glare.

“I’m not getting defensive.” 

“I beg to differ.” As the younger shrugs and leans back, Matt speaks up. 

“Do you mind if we go?” The male asks, gaining the attention of both his brothers as they quickly look his way. 

“No, we can go.” Chris replies, his eyes narrowing as he watches the older fidget with the keys hanging on his belt loop. The moment he stands up and sets his glass on the table nearby, the older two follow him. As Chris walks over to Matt and wraps an arm around his shoulder to guide him to the front door, Nick stays behind to take a few glances around the room. 

A small puff of air escapes his lips before he downs his glass in one go and sets it down next to Chris’ on the table. As he runs up to the latter and Matt, he whips his head around and halts momentarily when someone taps him on the shoulder. 

“Finn.” Nick breathes, an immediate smile forming as he looks up at the taller. 

“Hey.” The male greets, giving a small smile in return. “You heading out?” 

“Yeah.” Nick frowns, “I’m not used to these settings so I feel a little out of place.” 

“I feel you. Do mind if we swap numbers before you dip?”

“I don’t mind at all.” Finn smiles widely before both males swap phones to exchange numbers. 

“Well, I won’t hold you back from leaving. I’ll text you later, Nick. It was nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too!” After sharing a quick wave goodbye, Nick rushes to the front door to catch up with Matt and Chris. A small shiver runs down his spine the moment the cold air nips at his exposed skin, his footsteps quickening as he hurries to the van a few cars down the street. He hurriedly opens the side door and hops in, his arm extending to grab the door handle and pull the door shut. 

“Did you run into your boyfriend or something?” Chris asks, turning around in his seat to look back at the older. 

“Chris, shut the fuck up. Like respectfully, please shut up.” Nick grumbles as he buckles himself in. 

“What the hell are you two going on about? Did I miss something?” Matt questions, his gaze switching from Chris to Nick as he pulls the gear shift down to reverse. 

“Did you not hear what I said back there?” Chris lets out a small sight when the older shakes his head. “When I went to go find Nick, I saw him flirting with some guy while he was getting the drinks.” 

“You were flirting with a guy?” Matt gasps, his jaw dropping slightly as he looks at Nick in the rear view mirror. 

“I was not!” Nick exclaims, his arms crossing as he slumps in his seat. 

“Why are you blushing so hard for then?” The red-head quickly hides his face in his hands and looks towards the window, a small whine escaping him. 

“Can we just go please?” 

“Yeah, we can go.” Matt lets out a breathy chuckle as he backs out of his spot, the drive back to the house being quiet apart from the faint beats of the songs playing on the radio. 

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

The moment all three boys walk through their front door, they all split ways to go to their rooms. (Apart from Chris who takes a quick detour to grab a Pepsi before he goes to his room.) Nick yawns as he flicks on his bedroom light, his arms coming up to stretch above his head as he shuffles to his wardrobe. 

He quickly changes into more comfortable clothes before shutting the lights back off and climbing in bed. He sighs contently as he brings the blanket up to his chin and shuts his eyes. He turns around on his side, trying to get more comfortable before the single turn turns into two. And two turns into three.

Half an hour full of the male tossing and turning in bed passes in what seems like 10 minutes. An exasperated sigh escapes Nick’s lips as he sits up in bed, the blanket rolling down to his thighs. He rubs his eyes for a moment before his arms fall down to his side in exhaustion. He looks around his room for a moment, the only source of light being the bat phosphorescence fixture on his nightstand.

“You know what…” Nick mumbles, reaching over to the remote next to the bat fixture. He sinks down in bed as he turns his television on, going blind momentarily at the bright light emitting from the TV mounted on the wall in front of him. He blinks his eyes for his vision to adjust to the light before he opens up one of the apps.

Soft, muted clicks come from the remote in Nick's hand as he scrolls through a large selection of movies, his eyes searching for one in particular. Once he finally finds it, he plays it with a large smile. The sound of Edward Scissorhands plays quietly in the room as the red-head curls his legs up and watches the movie. 

A few minutes pass by and Nick jumps at the faint ding coming from his left. His eyebrows furrow as he reaches over to the source of the sound, his fingertips reaching his phone that was discarded on his nightstand. He grabs the device and sits back up in bed as he turns his phone on, the soft light from his phone highlighting his tired features. His heart skips multiple beats at the sight of a single text on his lock screen. 

The text reads: 

Finn: I know this might sound really sudden but would you be up to hanging out sometime?