#hand to god it only gets worse i just kEEP GETTING W O R S E

[findmeabowlofundertale]

IT’S HERE, PART 5

MMMM the pacing and tone shifts are even worse but yknow what too diddly darn bad. As usual, this wasn’t meant to be so long, it got away from me, yada yada. But actually I’ve mentally worked out several plot things for… the distant future, and stuck some of them in here oh so cleverly. Like a sneaky snail. Ohohoho

…I am. So tired.

So I’ll probably edit this in the morning.

Edit: I did edit it.

Part 4 (prev), Part 6 (next)

- - - -

Alphys helped Asteri get Dr. Gaster to the couch. Despite Asteri being quite tall herself and therefore having furniture to match, he was even taller, and so his feet stuck off the one end. It didn't matter though, because he passed out almost immediately. (Despite his protests on the way to the living room.) That left the two women.

"I hope it's alright that you're away this long," Asteri worried aloud as they returned to the kitchen table. "I mean you don't have to stay, of course, but I assumed it might be a little strange to return to work sans your boss?" 

"Eheh, yeah... O-Oh! But if you, um, want me to go, I can! If you wanted it to be, uh, y-you know... Just you guys? When he wakes up?"

Asteri gave a dry smile and quirked an eyebrow. "What reason, exactly, would I have for wanting it to be just the two of us?"

Alphys' face went red, and she looked anywhere but at the shapeshifter. "W-W-Well!! Y-You know! If you... wanted to… talk…. a-about anything...?" She glanced back to Asteri, who looked tired but amused. "I-I-I don't know!!"

"Alphys, I'm not going to bo-- oh my god I can't believe I almost said that. I'm not going to sleep with your boss. I barely even know him."

The lizard monster sputtered in embarrassment at her apparent transparency for a few seconds before managing words. "W-Well I don't know! Y-You guys were all- all blushy and stuff earlier!"

"Because there was an embarrassing misunderstanding!" Asteri objected. As if to illustrate, it seemed the heat in her cheeks was returning again. "Other than that, there were a couple moments of emotional vulnerability that were necessary but still uncomfortable given the low level of familiarity between us." 

"...S-So you don't, um, h-have a... crush on--"

"I met him ONE other time, Alphys! Have you been reading romance novels or something?"

The way Alphys froze and the ensuing silence spoke volumes. 

"...I mean, no judgement." A beat passed. "He's not into ME though, is he?”

“I-! I don't... think so? I think he’s, um, I think he’s just happy to have a friend.”

Asteri smiled to herself. “A friend, huh? I can’t say I ever expected the Royal Scientist to think of me as a friend.”

A few thoughtful seconds passed before Alphys spoke. “M-Maybe that’s— um. A-Actually, n-never mind!”

“What?”

“N-No, it was kind of, um, r-rude, I’m sorry.”

“Well now you have to tell me.” Alphys looked uneasy, so Asteri smiled. “I won’t be offended, promise.”

Alphys sighed in defeat and fidgeted with her hands. “W-Well maybe, um. M-Maybe y-you keep- keep feeling like that, because, um... Do I have to say this??”

“Yes. Now I’m really curious.”

Another huff of resignation, followed by an awkward groan. “M-Maybe it’s b-because you… only, um. Only think of him like- like that? A-As “the Royal Scientist.””

Asteri made a thoughtful noise and leaned her chin on her wing.

“W-WHICH IS LIKE TOTALLY U-UNDERSTANDABLE!” Alphys hurried to add. “I-I-It’s really in-intimidating! I totally freaked out when I first met him! H-He’s this big, important figure who-who’s been around forever, s-so of course you wanna be, um, r-respectful, and stuff. But… I’ve worked with him f-for the last year, um, a-a little more actually, a-and he’s… really nice. H-He doesn’t treat anyone like- like they’re below him. Actually, he kind of? Does the opposite? He’s always in-incredibly careful with e-experiments that involve anyone else, but if he’s doing it by himself, half the time he won’t even wear safety gear unless someone reminds him. H-He listens whenever anyone has any concerns, he brings in snacks, he never yells at anyone— a-actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seem him mad, e-except maybe at himself? Everything he does is f-for the good of everyone else, to take care of us all down here. B-But… He doesn’t, um. H-He doesn’t really… have anyone to… take care of him? N-Not that he needs t-to be taken care of! He’s a g-grown monster! Obv-Obviously…”

“No, I know what you mean,” Asteri murmured. “Being alive so long must be… lonely. If all you have is taking care of others...”

She thought back to how he had mentioned that nobody asked him about skeleton history, or culture. How excited he was to share. If she stopped looking at it all through the lens of academia…

“He just doesn’t have anyone to talk to about his life, does he?”

“W-Well! Th-There’s us at the lab. B-But, um… no. He doesn’t… really talk, um, very much, about his life outside work.” She was quiet a moment. “I guess, m-maybe that’s why he… makes it his life.”

Asteri exhaled and slowly lowered her forehead to the table. “God, that’s so sad.”

She wasn’t pitying him. She wasn’t. But that was sad, that a person who had lived so long could give so much and receive so little. But it weren’t as if their… friendship (it really felt far too soon to call it that) so far were based on pity, or because she felt bad for him. No, the core of all of this was that he was extremely enjoyable to talk with. He was funny, too. Kind. Patient above all, answering her questions and explaining things thoroughly without ever being condescending. Their conversation at the donut shop was what she imagined it felt like when two gears fit together just so. A meeting of the minds, so to speak. Because, if she thought about it, if she took everything he had said as completely genuine, then it had been just as enjoyable to him. Come to think of it, it hadn’t felt like a superior trying to teach her something, even though he had taught her a number of things. It had felt like how she remembered college being, when she and her classmates would piece things together as they learned. It felt bright like that, warm like that. Their excitement built off each other’s. For as much as she had learned, with the way he spoke to her, the way he treated her, she felt like she had contributed just as much. She never felt stupid. Silly, maybe, but never lesser.

It was such a pleasant conversation that had she reflected on it this much before, she likely wouldn’t have been able to resist trying to call him, or at least emailing him. Which was why it was better, easier, to tell herself that it wasn’t genuine, just like all her colleagues. What a mistake that had been. If she set aside the fact that both of them were academics, and imagined that conversation between two people regular people, it was unquestionably the beginning of a potential friendship.

“Alright,” Asteri decided, lifting her head from the table. “That’s it.”

Alphys startled, voice fluttering as she shifted nervously in her seat. “W-What’s- What’s it?”

Asteri sat up straight. “I’m getting this man some friends. And I’m going to be one of them!”

The two seconds of silence were too long, and her face flushed blue-green.

“Not… sure where the sudden resolution came from,” she mumbled, hunching inward slightly. “That was weird. Ignore that.”

“N-No, it was cool!!” Alphys insisted. “Y-You’re like an anime character….”

That got a questioning (though not judgmental) eyebrow raise from the shapeshifter. This time Alphys blushed.

“W-Well, um! A r-really common, um, th-theme! Is! The- The power of, um, friendship. P-Plus! Y-You’ve got the colorful, spiky hair! Well, um, sort of. A-And, um… Uh. A-Actually that’s… mostly it. S-Sorry.”

Asteri smiled. Alphys seemed like a very earnest person. She liked that. “Don’t apologize. I said at the dump that I’d like to hear more about anime once we weren’t busy. We’ve certainly got time now, if you’d like to tell me more.” She gestured with the tip of her wing to the DVD cases and manga on still on the table. “Do you know these ones?”

Alphys looked like someone had just given her the key to breaking the Barrier. Those were the sparkliest eyes Asteri had ever seen on any monster, ever. And the biggest grin she’d ever seen on anybody with skin. “O-Oh my god, really?” she breathed with audible disbelief. “You really want to- to hear about it?”

“Sure! You’ve certainly listened to me enough today.”

“OMG, okay! S-So first you have to know a little about um, J-Japanese culture! I don’t actually know too much, because I haven’t found a lot of intact DVDs, or manga that hasn’t been totally waterlogged, b-but here’s what I do know…”

⁂

For the second time in two months, Asteri had a conversation that lasted until nighttime. Unlike in New Home, where sunlight from the surface did come through the Barrier in some places and indicated night and day, here in Waterfall it was always dark, save for the perpetual glow of the water, crystals, and mushrooms. The clock, however, was indicator enough. In the last several hours, Asteri leaned about: Samurai and ninja, magical girls, the Japanese system of honorifics (which had derailed into an intense linguistic interrogation for a while before returning to the original topic), cherry blossoms and their symbolism, why the eyes in the art were so big (windows to the soul, apparently, and more expressive than the mouth; having met a skeleton, Asteri felt inclined to agree), and a handful of popular Japanese foods.

She had also indulged Alphys by shifting into her best approximation of a few of the characters the younger woman had shown her pictures of. Alphys had squealed so loudly the first time that Asteri was surprised it didn’t wake Dr. Gaster. She decided to pass on the opportunity to make a joke about sleeping like the dead, given that she wasn’t actually sure on the origin of skeletons monsters, but had heard enough rumors to realize it probably wasn’t in good taste.

“So, on the surface, there’s enough water in one place to completely separate an entire society from another?”

“Y-Yeah! I can’t even- I can’t even imagine. I wonder if the ocean is like the lakes down here…”

Asteri made a face. “Which lakes, the glowing ones? Because if it glows and it’s that big, it would be so bright at night.”

Alphys hummed pensively, trying to recall whether the ocean had ever glowed in any anime she’d seen. “I don’t… think it does? The water that glows here does that because, uh, b-because of microorganisms, partly, b-but mainly all the leftover magic from us monsters. The same with a lot of- of the crystal formations. Th-That’s why the water in the dump doesn’t glow much; it’s coming right from the surface. I don’t think, um, very much stuff on the surface glows at all, actually. E-Except like lights a-and stuff.”

“Hmm, so no glowing oceans then… Wait, hold on. Are you saying that the water and stuff here glows because of dead people?”

“WHA-?! N-NO! I-It’s j-just ambient leftover magic, l-like from when bullets d-dissipate, or f-fire magic! Monsters t-turn to dust when they die, e-everybody knows that!”

“Right, but what’s the dust, if we’re made of magic, and magic dissipates over time?”

Alphys blinked. “W-Well, we’re actually just mostly made of magic, there’s a little bit of ph-physical matter, so— Oh my god.”

Asteri raised her eyebrows.

“Maybe the water does glow because of dead people.”

The horrified look on Alphys’ face made Asteri snort. “Well, if that’s the case, if the dust is the physical stuff, but our magic just kinda evaporates into the atmosphere and that’s the majority of the ambient magic, then dead people are also why the crystals in the ceiling and mushrooms glow, right?”

“W-Well the mushrooms… have some natural bioluminescence, I think, but… y-yeah,” Alphys answered weakly.

“Then…” Asteri smiled, lopsided but sincere. “Then isn’t it kind of nice that everyone we’ve ever lost is still around us, still with us? Even in the “stars”?”

Alphys stared, mulling that over. Then, she slowly broke into a smile. “Y… Yeah. Yeah, that is kind of a nice thought.”

Asteri shrugged her wings. “I mean, I’m not a biologist. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s kind of what I like to believe.” She looked up at the ceiling of her house, as if seeing past it to the ceiling of the cave beyond it, and all the crystals embedded within.

“I-I’m going to ask about that, now. Th-There’s a few biology majors I share c-classes with.”

“Let me know if I’m right,” Asteri hummed. “But if I’m not, don’t say anything. Unless the truth is even nicer, somehow.”

“O-Okay! Will, um! Will do!”

The conversation returned to lighter things for a short while, until they heard a groan from the other room, followed by what might have been some sort of confused mumbling, then a soft thud. Both women rushed into the living room.

“D-Dr. Gaster! Are you okay??”

“Mmmmnnnghh…”

Alphys cringed slightly. “U-Um, we’re at Asteri’s house, remember?”

“Yeah, I should have left a lamp on in here,” Asteri apologized, wincing. “My bad.”

A couple seconds of almost tangible disorientation went by, then blue, slightly glowing hands appeared. “Since when are you on a first-name basis with Ms. Asteri? …And what day is it?”

Asteri chuckled as she found the light switch and flipped it on with her tail. “It’s the same—“

“You’ve been asleep for TH-THREE DAYS, sir!” Alphys flat out lied, doing a remarkably good job at sounding equally panicked and frustrated. “This is w-why you’ve GOT to take better care of yourself! W-We’ve all been so worried!”

Dr. Gaster immediately scrambled to his feet, eyelights flaring with yellow and purple as he gasped in abject horror. “It’s been WHAT?!”

“It has not been three days, it’s been a few hours,” Asteri corrected, sounding somehow both chiding and amused.

Alphys giggled behind her hands. She looked only a little remorseful.

His eyes faded back to normal. “Alphys…”

“T-To be fair, sir, I wouldn’t have been able to do that if you just slept every night.”

His cheekbones practically glowed red. Even so, he didn’t seem about to back down. “Every night?! That hardly gives me any time to work!”

“How about every other night, then?” Asteri offered. Both scientists looked to her like they had forgotten she was there.

“That does seem m-much more reasonable than what you do now,” agreed Alphys.

The skeleton crossed his arms, like he was sulking, and used the blue hands to sign instead. “I will consider it…”

“By the way, you’re welcome to call me by name as well, Doctor,” Asteri commented, recalling his waking question. “Just Asteri is fine.”

Though a bit taken aback at first, he soon broke into a smile, attempt at sulking already forgotten. “Just Asteri… In that case, please feel free to forego the honorifics on my part as well.”

She tilted her head. “Just call you… Gaster?”

He nodded. “I have told Alphys that she is free to do the same, but she insists. Some of the others at the laboratory do as well, but there is really no need for such formality. They know who I am.”

“I-It’s a respect thing, Doctor,” insisted Alphys.

He frowned slightly and blew air through his nasal cavity. “I don’t need my colleagues to call me “Doctor” to know that they respect me. Actions are far more important than words.”

Asteri smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Bold words coming from a man standing in a linguist’s living room.”

Gaster’s eyelights disappeared. If an exclamation point could be a facial expression, he would have had it right then. Alphys laughed into her hands. “She’s got you there, sir.”

“I meant—” He tried to backpedal. “Ms. Asteri, I meant no disrespect to your work! In the context—”

“Hey. Hey, relax. I’m teasing you,” Asteri cut in gently. “I’m not offended. I know what you meant.” His eyelights flickered back into existence. She smiled softly. “Sorry, I should probably go easy on that until we know each other better. I’ve been caught up talking to Alphys, so my tongue is a little sharp from the banter.”

“Oh.” He blinked, then slowly returned her smile. It was more grounded. The way he had smiled earlier today was excitable, like unraveling string, pulled taut and fraying. (Likely because earlier, he hadn’t slept yet.) But now it was softer. “I am relieved. I don’t mind the teasing, sometimes it just takes me a while to get the sense of it.”

“Having just woken up probably doesn’t help. But uh, about what you were saying before, I get it. About not wanting the people you work with to use titles. Words have power. So sometimes, it’s better to forego certain ones. They can be a shield, and if you want familiarity with someone, you can’t have a shield between you.”

“Yes.” Gaster straightened. “Yes! Exactly! That is exactly what I meant! How can we be fa— friends if they feel the need to restate their distance in every other sentence?”

Asteri didn’t miss the way he almost signed “family” instead of “friends,” and she doubted the younger scientist missed it either.

Alphys’ eyes widened at what he said. Evidently, she hadn’t realized he felt that way. “D-Dr. Gaster…” He looked to her, and she must have realized that she just called him “Doctor” again despite everything, because she flushed slightly. “Uh! I-If it’s— I mean, um, f-for me…” She shuffled closer and took a deep breath. “Y-You’re so nice to me! And! E-Ever since m-my dad… f-fell down, I-I’ve really missed talking with him. He always… always supported me. I used to, um, tell him about- about this kind of stuff. E-Engineering, and programming and…” She trailed off and shook her head, ignoring the way her eyes stung with the threat of tears. “H-He, um, he didn’t really get a lot of the m-more technical stuff, but he always l-listened. M-My mom was always busy, but-but he was s-so patient, and kind, a-and fun, and w-we were…”

She had kept trying to ignore the threatening tears, until it was too difficult and the emotion thickened her voice.

“We were really close,” was all she managed before her voice hitched, and she covered her mouth to swallow the feeling. “I-I’m sorry, th-this wasn’t supposed to turn into this!” She tried to hide it all with a laugh, and it did help her regain her composure some. “I-I-I didn’t mean to get a-all emotional, I just- I just wanted you to know that, u-um, I don’t k-keep calling you D-Doctor, and sir, b-because of… I-I’m not trying to, um…! It-It’s not that I…!” She swallowed the words she kept tripping over and screwed her eyes shut.

She took a deep breath.

“I-I can’t just call you Gaster b-because it’d be like calling my dad by his name!”

Alphys had her whole face covered with her hands. Gaster looked absolutely blown away. Asteri felt like she had just witnessed something extremely personal, but sensed that if she moved at all it would only draw attention to herself and make her presence more awkward.

Gaster stepped closer to the younger woman and gently set a hand on her shoulder. She peeked through her fingers, and he smiled at her, eyes full of hesitant warmth. “Alphys… You truly think of me like that?”

She nodded and glanced away, embarrassed.

But he beamed so brightly, so warmly, he looked like he might cry himself. His eyes burned green. “I have not had any family for a very, very long time. I have never wanted to overstep. But you are… like a daughter to me.”

They shared a meaningful look and then each made slight, unsure arm movements until they both managed to telegraph that the intention and desire for a hug was mutual. Alphys yelped slightly as she was pulled into it, evidently not expecting however it felt to hug a skeleton, but settled into it. Asteri smiled at the exchange. She had tried not to just stand there and watch, but it was difficult not to given the size of the room. It made sense why Alphys had had nothing but good to say about Gaster. Asteri didn’t doubt that it was all true, of course, but a young monster who was still grieving her father’s death, and subsequently found another father figure in her boss was bound to be a little biased. Not that this wasn’t absolutely tooth-rottingly sweet.

She glanced at the nearest clock. It was almost 8:00PM. Surely they were hungry; she certainly was. She and Alphys had only had a handful of snacks, they had been so busy talking. So while the two scientists hugged it out, Asteri slipped back into the kitchen and rummaged through her pantry and refrigerator to assess what she could make quickly. Gah, she really should have realized the time sooner. A box in her freezer caught her attention. Oh, that would work.

As she busied herself with dinner, she thought about her conversation with Alphys earlier about whether or not “the water glows because of dead people” and winced. Whoops. But… Alphys had seemed to appreciate her take on their loved ones who had died still being with them in the crystals and ceiling stars, and, yes, the glowing lakes.

She wondered how many people Gaster had lost.

A few minutes later, Alphys and Gaster stepped through the doorway into the kitchen, smiling. Asteri turned to greet them, but Alphys spoke first.

“Asteri I’m, um, I-I’m sorry… f-for almost crying in your living room. I didn’t- I-I didn’t mean to… do that.”

The shapeshifter turned and offered a reassuring smile. “Don’t sweat it, Alphys. It seems like you guys had a… good talk?”

They both nodded.

“You have been more than accommodating, Mi—” Gaster stopped halfway through signing “miss” and corrected himself. “Asteri. You tolerated me making a fool of myself multiple times, invited us to your home, made us tea, let me sleep on your sofa for—“ He checked the time— “almost six hours, and led me to having a touching conversation with Alphys. …Also in your living room. I cannot overstate my gratitude for your hospitality.”

Asteri smiled, a little shyly, and shrugged one wing, trying to be casual as she moved about the kitchen. Here went nothing. “Well, hey… what are friends for?”

His eyes widened, flashing pink. He went from surprised to touched instantly. “You would consider me a friend after everything?”

Her face warmed, just a bit, tail flicking slowly back and forth against the floor. “If you’d like to be.”

There was no misinterpreting a smile like that. “I’d be honored.”

She laughed, turning to rinse something off in the sink. “I don’t know if I can live up to being an “honor” to be friends with, but I’ll do my best.”

“Y-You’ll have to get better about sleeping if you’re going to start spending time with other people, you know,” Alphys murmured as she elbowed him. He chuckled guiltily.

“It seems so… Speaking of which, I am sure we have more than worn out our welcome. We should be on our way.”

Asteri turned all the way to face them and gestured behind her. “At least eat first. Please. I’ve got dinner in the oven, it’ll be done soon. I’m not going to make you two walk all the way back to the capital on empty stomachs.”

“Well, technically speaking,” Gaster began with a grin. Alphys groaned. “…My stomach is always empty.”

Asteri snorted a laugh. “You know what I meant. Sit, I’ll get the rest of that sea tea. It will be plenty cold by now.”

They did as asked, and made small talk as she finished cleaning up a few things.

“So, um, what are you making?” Alphys inquired.

“Just pizza. I had a frozen one. It’s just vegetables, I hope that’s alright.”

“Th-That’s fine with me!”

“Same here.”

As she pulled it out of the oven and set about cutting it, she started to wonder how, exactly, Gaster ate. Obviously with magic— monsters with less solid forms absorbed the food right after swallowing rather than have it go down their throat and into their stomach— not unlike herself. Sometimes her neck wasn’t even attached to her head or body. And her torso was in at least two separate pieces most of the time, more often it was in three. But how did Gaster even get to the swallowing step? She had never seen him open his mouth, even at the donut shop. It was like she happened to be looking away every time he took a bite. This time she was going to pay attention.

She dished up the pizza onto plates and handed it out, passing each plate to the table one at a time as her tail spanned the distance between there and where she stood at the counter. Once that was set, she finally sat down. Unlike when cooking with fire magic, the oven made food too hot to eat right away, so they had to wait. The anticipation was killing her. But they made conversation in the meantime.

“Now that everything has gotten sorted out,” Asteri began, looking to Gaster, “do you want to plan to get together again sometime? That way there’s no, uh… misunderstanding phone calls or the lack thereof?” She rubbed the back of her head guiltily with her wing.

“I would like that.”

“Maybe somewhere between here and New Home? That way neither of us have to travel the entire way.”

“I do most of my work at the CORE, or the laboratory in Hotland, so visiting Waterfall is no issue. I only ever go to the capital to meet with the king, or buy donuts,” Gaster explained.

Asteri and Alphys both gave him a look.

He looked back and forth between them and tugged at his collar. “And other… meals.”

“And to go home?” Alphys prompted.

Gaster’s cheekbones flushed with magic. “Yes, yes of course! Obviously that!”

“I am more than happy to meet wherever if it means not repeating whatever sleep deprivation led to you almost passing out at my kitchen table,” Asteri intoned.

He got even redder. “I… will endeavor to get more sleep. For the sake of friendship.”

She smiled contentedly. “Good. That’s all I ask.”

Alphys had started eating, so the pizza must have cooled off enough. Asteri took a tentative bite. Yes, perfect. In her peripheral, she saw Gaster move to pick his pizza up. Immediately, her eyes flicked up to watch whatever happened next.

…And then Alphys started coughing, which involuntary drew her gaze away. The other woman was fine, her sea tea just went “down the wrong tube,” fortunately. But when Asteri looked back to Gaster, his slice of pizza was all but gone.

Oh go figure.

She gave up after that. It didn’t really matter, and she was sure she would see him eat eventually. Just not tonight, apparently.

They set up a day and time to meet again. Alphys had her classes, but they hoped to include her another time. They also established that texting was likely the way to go for future communication, in order to eliminate Gaster needing someone to talk for him. With everything worked out, they finished dinner and Asteri bid the two of them farewell. She wished Alphys the best in her classes, and told Gaster to get some sleep, with the promise of meeting again in Hotland the following week. And then they were off, and that was that.

Now, after a pleasant but still long, emotionally draining day, Asteri could just rest. She was exhausted. Under the covers, she let the events of the day replay. The misunderstandings, especially, stood out, and she mentally patted herself on the back for getting through it all. Things like miscommunications were difficult, and required a lot of mental presence and fortitude to endure setting straight. If it weren’t for her parents, she would never have made it to this point in life. She missed them, but she thought of the comforting feeling of their magic around her and how she swore she felt it reflected in the stars that surrounded her here. She was grateful to her parents for many things, but today, she was especially grateful that they had inspired her to have so much

PERSEVERANCE

- - - -

NOTES:

HAHA YEEEEAAAAH, PERSEVERANCE! BET YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING! Bet you thought it was gonna be kindness, with all the green. HEEHEEHEE

Anyway, yeah, several things here will come back later. ALSO I’M SO GLAD THE NAME THING IS OUT OF THE WAY, it was killing me to keep writing “Dr. Gaster” in the narration.

The part with Alphys’, uh, thing with Gaster and her dad just sort of. Happened. Also I copped out on the pizza scene because I realized a way better point in the story for Asteri to see how he eats. Heheh. But yeah, no, I know the end is rushed, but I am SO TIRED, and I wanted to get this finished tonight, so… yeah. I’m getting a bowl of ice cream and then going to bed, it’s 12:30.

Oh also Asteri almost said “bone” at the beginning, that’s why she cut herself off and said “sleep with” instead, lol

#⁂ fic #Asteri backstory #gaster #⁂ gaster #seeker oc #asteri #seeker writes #*screams* #im so excited for where this story is going you guys don’t even know #long post #⁂

[bang-to-the-tan]

Moth to Flame

Chapter 13

Reader x OT7

► Vampire!AU

Smut/Porn With Some Plot

Warnings: (hoo boy) Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Sloppy Seconds, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Degradation,Somewhat Dubious Consent/Hypnosis, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Handjob, Masturbation, Cumplay, Threesome (M/M/F), Foursome (M/M/M/F), Voyeurism, Slight Stockholm Syndrome?, Possessiveness, Vampires (Biting, Blood-Sucking, Reference to Death), Language

Words: 11.1K (jesus tittyfucking CHRIST)

↳ Summary: Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions are rising and the brothers are getting hungry…

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Yoongi’s sweatpants fit well enough to get by in, matched with another of Namjoon’s hoodies—this time in a tan color. (How many hoodies does one man need? You’re reminded again of Jin’s seemingly endless supply of clothing, though you don’t dare mention the similarity) The flip flops he’s lent you are a little on the large side, but you doubt it really matters. You’re just glad to be wearing shoes again. As you wait by the door for Namjoon to get his keys and slide his arms through his jacket, tugging on a bucket hat and hanging a pair of sunglasses onto his shirt, you’re still trying to process your emotions. Outside. With other people. Other humans, even. Are you going to run? Are you going to try to escape? It feels like that’s what you should be planning.

“Oh.” Namjoon catches your attention as you muse, pulling dark, smokey fabric your way and wrapping it around your neck. You pluck distractedly at one of the fringes hanging off it, meeting his gaze after a second.

“Just in case,” he says, shifting the scarf around your shoulders more securely. “For the marks.”

“They look bad?”

He tilts your head to the side, inspecting you with a quirk of his lips. “Mm. No. Not really. Kinda healed. But just in case. Don’t want any awkward questions.”

Awkward questions. Like, ‘blink twice if you’re being held hostage’? That kind of awkward? You allow him to tuck the edges back in, hiding the evidence of where you’ve been. What you’ve been doing. What’s been done to you. You grimace. Your head still hurts, and the world has begun spinning a little when you turn your neck too quickly.

You blink, and you’re in the passenger’s seat of the car, staring out the window while Namjoon talks. Vaguely, you’re aware of what he’s saying. That he thinks it’s awfully important. You beg to differ.

“—find you on any, like, missing persons databases so I think we’re in the clear, but just to be safe, y’know. This is…it’s a risk. You understand?”

You hum, working your jaw. You wish he’d gotten you something a little stronger for the headache. It’s better than it was, but not gone. Swear it gets worse when he talks, and he’s talking a lot.

“I need you to behave yourself. Don’t make a scene. If you act out, then we can’t do this anymore.”

You roll your eyes, even knowing that it’s going to twinge at your migraine.

“I’m not gonna run around screaming about being kidnapped, Joon,” you grumble.

“I know. I know, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. I promised you we’d let you go when we’ve…sorted something else out.”

“That’s a different phrasing than you used last time.”

“I’m trying. Okay? Just—I’m not trying to keep you prisoner.”

“Hence the handcuffs.”

You flick a glance over at him just in time to catch the tick of his jaw as he narrows his eyes at the road ahead.

“That is…not the same thing.”

“If it’s sexy, then kidnapping is okay.”

The exasperated snort of air that he answers with is partly humored and partly frustrated.

“You are, annoying sometimes, you know that?”

“I get to be, I think.” You turn back to the window. “Considering.”

“…yeah. Alright. Considering.”

 The store has too many fucking people in it, is the thought that occurs to you. At first, pulling into the parking lot, you’re excited to see them. Human beings, running amok, running free. You feel like an animal at a zoo released into the wild. Ordinary people, milling about, going about their ordinary lives. It’s invigorating.

That feeling quickly fades when you actually get into the building. The smells, too-sharp chemicals and body odor hits you immediately; cheaply, quickly cooked food and even cheaper body spray. The noises. Chattering, obnoxious laughing heard from the other side of the store, children shrieking and shouting. A cart down the way has a squeaky wheel and you can track it through the aisles. You ruminate on thoughts of violence perpetrated by the item in question itself, of picking it up and throwing it out the finger-smudged windows with the screeching baby still inside it.

Namjoon’s hand on yours squeezes reassuringly. It’s unclear to you whether he can sense your discomfort but you don’t think you’ll mention it if it’s possible to avoid doing so. You can’t imagine how unbearably smug he’d be to learn that you’d rather be around him than them. Once you’re in the store, he lifts his sunglasses, but leaves the hat on.  

“Not gonna burn to a crisp in the sunlight?” You ask after a moment of watching a child attempt to shove his entire hand up one nostril.

“Nah. Just a little sensitive on the eyes.”

“The super cool, far-seeing, all-knowing vampire eyes.”

“Those ones.”

“I should have brought a flashlight to the club, is what you’re telling me.”

He chuckles, shrugging. “Maybe so.”

He leads you to the clothing section, still holding your hand, and there isn’t an atom in your body that is even vaguely alright with the idea of letting him out of your sight. There’s a feeling like you’d get swept up in this sea of people, lost in a world so entirely foreign to you. You know you used to belong here. This used to be yours.

But flicking numbly through shirts and pants, skirts, jackets, mumbling half-remembered guesses at measurements, listening to the cacophony around you, lost in the harsh overhead lights…you don’t belong here. You aren’t sure whether it’s more upsetting to think that you don’t now, or that once upon a time, you did. Once upon a time, you didn’t question it.

A gaggle of teenaged girls passes by. For a third time. They stare at Namjoon in turns, giggling and speeding up, skittering past, chattering to each other excitedly. Their idea of stealth leaves a lot to be desired.

“You have admirers.”

Namjoon cocks his head, lips pursing, as he pulls a t-shirt off the rack and holds it up to you appraisingly. “I’m ignoring them.”

“Not hungry?”

His eyes flit to yours. “Never teenagers.” He replies, low, firm. He sounds almost upset. “Never kids.”

You hear the click of a phone camera and a high-pitched giggle of embarrassment, the forcibly hushed whispers of ‘turn off the noise turn off the noise, oh my god!’.

“Not even annoying ones?”

“If you really want to discourage them, you could kiss me.” He says instead, lightly, but his eyes flick to yours and you can taste the heat behind them.

“That’ll do it, you think?” you echo sardonically.

He hums, nodding once in affirmation.

Before you can think too hard, you slide a hand over his on the shirt hanger, guiding it back towards the rack so that you can close the gap between you. Like the first time, he doesn’t move at first. Allows you to crane upwards, struggle to brush your lips together, before he finally acquiesces and takes the remaining space, laying a lingering kiss against your mouth. He’s warm, soft. His lips taste like him. Like how he smells. Like Namjoon. The two of you lock gazes as you part, and you willfully ignore the electricity shimmying down your body.

“I don’t like the color of that one,” you break the silence after a pause. He blinks slow, a grin crawling across his face.

“No?”

“No. But the one behind it is nice.”

“Anything for baby.”

You don’t allow him the warmth that curls inside of you at that.

 The two of you end up standing in line, holding a modest armful of clothing that you’re pretty sure will fit, waiting for your turn at the checkout. It’s not even a matter of what you’re planning to buy at this point—your headache has only gotten worse and it’s all you can do not to lose your fucking mind. You reached the breaking point about ten minutes ago and you’re absolutely going to go batshit if you don’t leave this store immediately. Which is why when Joon starts doing that ‘patting himself down in surprise’ motion, you’re thrown into palpable despair.

“Oh, shit.”

“No. No, Namjoon.” You plead through gritted teeth, throwing him a desperate look.

“My wallet’s in the car.”

“Damn you, goddamn you—“

He grabs your arms with an apologetic smile that dimples his cheeks. “Just stand off to the side. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

“No, Namjoon. No.”

But he’s already skipping away from you, holding up two fingers and mouthing ‘two minutes’ back your way. You hate him. You hope he gets run over while he’s out there.

You trudge over to a nearby empty counter, dumping your armful onto it, resisting the urge to throw yourself on the pile and pull a pair of jeans over your head. Your brain hurts, your teeth are chattering, it’s too bright, it’s too loud, it smells, god, it smells, you had no idea you were so sensitive, you are so ready to go home. And by now you don’t even care that you’re calling it home. You can’t afford to care. What you wouldn’t do for more medication. For that turtle. Oh, how you lament the absence of that heavenly reptile.

 “Hey.”

You start at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, sounding up and away but too close to the back of your head. You turn, casting your glance up at the tall man standing by the counter. He’s not a worker; instead of their overly bright getup he’s sporting a leather jacket and black jeans. You don’t understand why he’s talking to you, if that’s the case, and you’re not really in sure how to pretend otherwise at the moment. His grin is crooked, raising his eyebrows expectantly, but at your expression his mischievous look fades.

“…Sorry, I thought I knew you!” He says after an awkward moment. Your heart seizes. Knew you?

He gestures with his hands as he explains. “Y’know, from the back, you look—I thought I recognized you.”

“…O-oh.” You aren’t sure what to say to that. Fuck, you sincerely hope he was mistaken. You hadn’t even considered what would happen if someone who used to know you sees you. The person you were before…before this. You don’t think you recognize him.

There’s another pause, where you turn away slightly, willing this moment to be over, but he doesn’t move. The moment instead stretches into forever. You would like to cease existing.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine! I’m—“ God, it’s been a long time since you’ve spoken to real people. You crane back around, forcing a smile that you hope doesn’t look too forced. “I’m fine. Just waiting. My, um.” You stumble over a way to define Namjoon, deciding in the end to abandon it entirely. “He left his wallet in the car.”

“Hm.” He doesn’t look convinced, flashing you a cursory up-and-down glance. Actually, looking at him, he’s pretty handsome himself. Wide lips, strong nose. A jawline to kill for. His neck is thick. You wonder what else of him—no, no. No. No. You like his eyes, you decide weakly. He’s got kind eyes. Good, nice eyes.

“Do you mind if I talk to you?”

You frown, throwing him another glance. Misgiving pools in your stomach warningly. You really, really aren’t in any kind of state to be carrying conversations with strangers. “Uh.”

He casts a look around, casual if not for the serious slant to his strong brows. He leans forward, pulling one edge of his jacket to the side. You see a flash of silver, recognize the badge hooked to the inside, and it clicks in your head, despite the chaos spinning around the edges of the world like a sick carousel. You don’t see much of the ID badge underneath but for his name, and his serious-faced photo, before he tucks it back away. Jackson. His name is Jackson.

“…You’re a cop.”

“Nothing’s the matter,” he reassures, holding out a hand placatingly, eyes watching yours. “Just like to ask you a few questions.” He jerks his head at the entrance.

“Come with me.”

Oh. Relief floods your limbs so intense you almost sigh aloud. That’s okay, then. Yeah, that’s fine. The clothes’ll be alright here for a second longer, you’re sure. You’re already following him as he peels off the counter and starts walking casually, your doubts melting away, making your steps lighter. Local police. Just a few questions, yeah. You can handle that. God, you were so afraid for a minute. The thought makes you chuckle under your breath when his back is turned as he leads you out the door, turning the corner to an alcove by the entrance. You definitely can handle whatever this handsome stranger wants to dole out.

He turns when you get there, stepping to the side so you can tuck yourself by the side of the building, out of view of any nosy people.

“How can I help you, officer?” you ask demurely, a smile curling the edge of your lips. Just being out of that building is helping your headache immensely. It’s fading as you speak, releasing its grip on your jaw, your thoughts.

He cranes over his shoulder to survey the parking lot behind him and you take the brief respite to admire the way his shirt pulls across subtle pecs, across broad shoulders, underneath the jacket that does little to hide his physique. The way he fills those black jeans. You like the obvious power in what you can see. Is it weird to be checking the cop out? No. No, certainly not. You resist the urge to bite your lip when he looks back to you and grins again. He’s cute when he smiles.

“So where are you from?”

“Ah…not too far from here, actually,” you return, playing at shy.

“No?” he chuckles, and the giggle threatening to bubble up past your lips finally wins over. You sway a little with the girlish sound. It’s all part of the act. You’re a normal human girl talking to a normal, albeit strikingly handsome, police officer. Everything is fine. “You sure? You aren’t from a little further up north? Think very carefully.”

You shake your head, grinning. The world around you spins delightfully when you do, fuzzing slightly about the edges. It’s really warm out here. You didn’t notice that before. It’s nice. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Don’t think so?” he echoes, stepping closer. That’s good. You like that. Your heartbeat quickens in your throat. “Weird way to answer…are you having trouble remembering?”

“Maybe.” You giggle again, feeling a thrill wash through your frame when he takes another step forward, threatening to invade your space. You fall back to the wall, leaning your head against it to allow yourself a better view of his smirk. Your head doesn’t want to stay upright properly, but the wall helps. If you can just get him a little closer…maybe you could…he is very handsome. And his lips…You stare at them with hunger pooling in your gut, intently watching the way they pull when he scoffs. Very kissable. Check.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess,” he murmurs in that low growl of his, “About who you really are…”

One hand comes up to brace against the wall, caging you in. You can feel his warmth now. Can smell the mint on his breath. Your stomach twists in anticipation. There’s something familiar in his expression now. A darkness. A hunger. You’re beyond pleased to see it in a face so handsome.

“Going by these…” he hums, and you feel a finger dragging against the column of your neck, slipping underneath the scarf. You huff a pleased breath, craning to press more of your skin towards him, nearly moaning when he presses his hot palm against the bitemarks in a curious fashion. “And…this…” His hand slides down, disentangling from the fabric, fingertips grazing your sternum, too close to the mark at your breast. He’s finding your little secrets very easily, you think with a hushed giggle. You wonder if he’ll get the next one. You hope he gets the next one. Arousal crawls down your spine and you arch at the thought, suddenly desperate for it.

“Hah, fuck, wow, that’s a reaction, huh? They treat you nice?”

You’re nodding, whimpering when his hand starts towards your hip. He nuzzles forward, presses a testing peck against your lips but you surge towards him, clutching at his wide shoulders, pulling him closer. He chuckles breathlessly against your mouth as you kiss him, a free hand going to his wrist and tugging it towards your inner thigh. He tastes like mint gum, warm lips caressing yours firmly, supple and pliant.

“Are you good for them?” he whispers between kisses. “Hmm?”

“So good,” you simper, humming when he nips lightly at your mouth. “I’m so good.”

“What do they call you? Are you their little whore? Little pet? Hm?” he clutches the meat of your thigh suddenly, and your approving squeak is muffled by his tongue, wet, slippery, sloppy.

“Could you be good for me too?” he growls when you part, licking across your swollen lips. The sound of it, already so rough, so low, has you twitching. “Could you add one more to your little collection?”

“Yes,” you’re tugging him closer, writhing when his hand ghosts to cup you between the legs, firm, possessive, demonstrative. “Y-Yes, yes, I can be good.”

“Can you be quiet?” he adds with a hushed laugh, raising his eyebrows at your fevered expression as you continue to scrabble at him, yanking on his jacket, his wrist, begging and twisting. “You have to—shh,” he shushes you when you keen, pressing his fingers closer to your pussy through Yoongi’s sweatpants, feeling for your heat and finding it easily, “You’re too fucking loud. You have to be quiet, or else—“

“She’s very vocal.”

You almost cry out in pleasure when you hear the voice that breaks through the cop’s low mumbling, arching and trembling against the wall. But he told you to hush, so you bite down on your lip, vision swimming with sweet obedience and heady recognition.

“I can see that.” The dark-eyed officer chuckles after a beat, his hand slipping from your apex despite your muffled, disappointed noise and attempts to pull him back. “Shocked nobody’s been called in for domestic disturbance around yours yet.” He pulls his hand from you easily, leaning back and turning to better address the owner of voice behind him.

Arousal skitters up your spine, coiling in your limbs, at the way Namjoon flicks you a momentary, disapproving look, his jaw ticking. Is he thinking of punishing you for this? You hope so. But his plump lips curve into an overly-pleasant smile, eyes crinkling as they cast to the other man.

“By all means, don’t let me interrupt.” He says smoothly. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I’d hate to get in any real trouble,” is the reply, just as cool. “Have to set an example for Yugyeom, right?”

Your body itches. Everything is warm, soft, bubbly, and the heat of the man in front of you is like a furnace, the hot center of your universe. You sneak your fingers into his belt loops, scooting him closer to you, and he allows it with a vaguely smug expression.

Namjoon’s smile doesn’t move, frozen on his face. “Your border is a few miles north from here, isn’t it? You’re cutting it a little close, don’t you think? Jackson?”

Jackson blinks, straightening. He grabs your wandering hand by the wrist from where it had travelled around his side to his zipper (how on earth did it get there, you wonder with a snicker), holding it up and away from his body with one wide palm. You whine through your nose. “We’re just passing through.” His tone has turned more serious. Respectful. “Avoiding the main roads. Won’t be spending more than a few hours this close to your territory.”

“Passing through?”

Jackson hesitates.

“We’re leaving, Namjoon.”

Namjoon’s smile falls, curving into a confused frown, his brow creasing. “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“It’s too slim here. We’re not having any luck lately. It’s my turn to disappear anyways.”

You press up against Jackson’s side, trying to slide your other hand up under his shirt, but he catches that one, too, holding you prisoner against the tacky feel of leather and his body heat. You mewl pointedly, hands straining, rocking against him. What’s he so busy for? Can’t he see that you need it? Your mouth waters. You need it…Up against this wall, bent over—you imagine Namjoon joining in and the thought has you aching. You can always prove how good you are. Can always show your new friend how good you can be for him.

Namjoon’s frown takes his lips with it, bares his teeth in a grimace. “You can’t be serious. What, already? What are we supposed to do?”

Jackson cocks his head in your direction and returns your sly grin with a raise of his eyebrows, briefly looking you over with an expression that makes you wet. You hum, trying to send him psychic requests for touching, kissing, biting through your locked gaze.  

“Looks like you’re already doing something.”

“She…she was an accident.”

“And here I thought you and Jin had finally made nice.” Jackson looks back to Namjoon, neck lolling with disbelief. He lets go of your hands, spinning and suddenly disentangling you from him in one smooth motion. He pushes your arms to your own chest and looks you dead in the eyes again. Hours pass where you’re lost in his eyes, caught in the endless depths of obsidian, floating in nothing and everything.

“Don’t. Move.”

A shiver wracks your body violently, and you have to throw yourself against the wall just to avoid crumpling to the ground with the pleasure that comes with obeying. You won’t move, you won’t move. You can do that for him. You press yourself to the brick, shuddering and panting quietly, eyes trained on his frame, watching how the world seems to heave with your every breath, lends him and Joon halos, makes heat spark and flare inside of you.

“You’re not actually leaving. We need you up north. Who’s taking your place?”

Jackson shakes his head, craning back to Namjoon. His tongue flits to wet his lips, gaze flicking upwards. You can think of better places his tongue could be. “No one. All of us are headed southwest.”

“Jaebum has better sense.”

“Back when it was an option.”

“You can’t just fucking leave, Jackson, we need cover. Now more than ever.”

“Wasn’t that the point of Jungkook?”

Ohh, Jungkook. You like Jungkook. Jungkook would take you. Press you up against the wall again, like when you met, but this time…you’re threatening to drool. Not moving is really hard.

“Jungkook is a kid. They’ll notice eventually. Jin isn’t thinking about the long term.”

“Then you’ll have to move anyways. You can’t just stubborn your way through everything, Namjoon.”

Namjoon’s smile returns, but it’s tight, dangerous. He looks like a predator. It’s a good look, makes you warm and wet all over, but you know better than anyone how to smooth it off him.

“I appreciate your opinion.”

“Good. I like giving it.”

“Stay out of my territory.” He pulls the phrase through his grin, low and heavy with threat. “If I catch any of you with so much as a toe over the line, I’ll pull you apart.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Like I said, we’re just passing through. Thought we’d grab one for the road in between territories.” Jackson flashes you another glance and you shiver. “…I won’t say anything about her, though. For you.”

“I told you she was an accident. You know times are tough.”

“I don’t agree with taking them like this. I don’t know anyone who does.”

“It’s temporary.”

Jackson shrugs.

“I’ll leave her with you anyway.” He says finally, with a sniff. “From the smell of her, you’ve got enough to worry about with just the two of you involved.”

He ruffles the back of his hair as he starts to walk. Namjoon doesn’t step aside for him, only watching as he gets close. When he comes within distance, he reaches forward and takes his arm. It’s weirdly gentle, familiar. You wish he’d grab you instead. Less gently would be preferable. Be nice if you could move, also.

“Tell me someone is staying.” Namjoon pleads. His eyes are genuine as he searches the other man’s. “Someone, anyone. Tell me we’ve still got cover. That the riots won’t reach us.”

Jackson slowly, hesitantly, places his hand on top of Namjoon’s.

“…You said it yourself. Times are tough, Joon.” He replies, quiet. “I’m sorry.”

This time, when he moves to walk past, both hands slipping from his arm, Namjoon angles his body to the side to allow him the space to continue.

“By the way,” Jackson adds after a beat, “You might want to check the ‘most wanted’ lists for up north. I could be wrong, but I think you’ve got one more problem.”

Namjoon’s head drops into a defeated nod, worrying his lower lip through his teeth as Jackson turns the corner out of sight, back towards the entrance.

Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move. A particularly violent shudder courses through you and you whine at the feeling of disobedience, but your body is shaking, breath coming in irregular pants. You’ve broken out in a sweat, your entire frame twitching and needy. Namjoon’s form ahead of you has you wanting, knowing he could make it better, he could kiss and lick and bite and touch and fondle and you need him to. But he only stands there, brow furrowed at the concrete beneath his feet, scratching at the back of his neck distractedly.

“N-Namjoon,” you whisper before you can stop yourself, feeling a thrill race through you when he freezes. Jackson said you needed to be quiet, so you don’t dare say much else, but when Namjoon looks up and meets your eye with a steely glare, you bite back a whimper.

“And you,” he says, low. “What do you have to say for yourself, hm?”

You only watch him, shivering.

“Speak,” he commands.

“Please, please, Namjoon,” you’re begging, babbling loosed from your lips in a tidal wave, “Please, I’m so hot, I need, I need you, I’m so warm, Namjoon, I need—“

“Were you going to let him fuck you?”

“I—“

“Were you. Going to let Jackson fuck you?”

“….I…”  your mouth goes dry. At his scathing look you crumble. “Y-yes, yes, I wanted—“

“You were going to let him bite you?”

Your voice has become small, hesitant, but the surface of your skin still buzzes and every time you answer him, pleasure rushes up your spine. “Yes.”

“After I told you not to.”

“I’m hazed,” you whine, shuffling your feet, squeezing your thighs together.

He shakes his head, casting his glance to the side with an expression that morphs into desperation mirroring your own. “…Fuck.”

Yes. Yes, exactly. You concur.

“Come—” He gestures, but the movement doesn’t even register until you’ve already thrown yourself into his outstretched arm, nuzzling into his shirt, pressing as much of you against you as you can manage.

“—here,” he cuts off with a shocked wheeze when you slide your palm down past the front of his pants, rubbing for his cock through his jeans. A thrill runs through you at the realization that he isn’t soft under there. You growl. He grabs for your wrists, shaking, eyes wide as he tries to meet yours. “Hey, whoah, no—fuck, goddamn it.” “Naaaaaamjooon,” you complain. “I was gonna let you fuck me, too…”

“I can see that.” His voice is strangled. He pauses, grip briefly tightening over your wrists and you purr at the feeling.

“Get in the car,” he says finally.

“You could haze me more to get in the car,” you waggle your eyebrows at him, chuckling under your breath at the bubbliness of the world in the corners of your vision.

“Or I could tell you to get in the fucking car and then you just do it.”

“I’ll do something fucking for you, Namjoon.”

“Get. In the car.” He sounds strained, but you’ll take it. Eventually, he’ll give you what you want. You don’t even have to worry about it! You stumble with him to the car, giggling when he tries to usher you into the passenger’s side and avoid the way you’re trying to pull him on top of you.

By the time he comes around the other side to sit behind the wheel, he’s already chattering to himself under his breath. He does like to talk a lot.  

“Get Hoseok to pull some strings with one of his, get those clothes bought, look up the wanted section—wanted? What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Godammit, Jackson—gotta give this time to wear off. Maybe we can sneak you past Yoongi. Maybe he’s sleeping. God, I hope he’s sleeping.”

Your hands are wandering again. Drifting over the center console as the car jerks roughly under you and starts speeding smoothly into the sunset. It’s way more interesting to you, what’s happening inside the vehicle. Your fingers dance over to Namjoon’s lap, trailing, watching his face for any sign that he’s going to stop you. His jaw clenches again and he throws you a grim glance.

“Don’t think about it.”

“Think about what.”

“You know what.”

“Taking your cock out?” You clarify innocently, watching with interest the shuddering inhale he takes. “Putting your cock in my mouth?”

“Exactly that.” His teeth are gritted.

“Tasting the tip?” you continue, curious, brushing a palm against his crotch, feeling triumphant at the way the fabric stirs, the way he shifts underneath you. “Or deeper?” Your mouth isn’t working exactly the way you’d like, you’re slurring pretty hard, but you’re already drooling at the thought of sucking him off.

“I’m trying to fucking drive,” he whines, and the sound takes you aback slightly, watching his brow crease in frustration. Consent. Namjoon likes consent. He likes it when you ask.

“Can I suck your dick?” You ask with a polite smile, delighted with yourself for figuring him out so quickly. “Namjoon?” His hips rise of their own volition, stuttering. He doesn’t reply beyond a sharp breath and you frown. Not a ‘no’. But not a yes.

Wait a minute. You’re being so silly. You’ve forgotten the most important part!

“Can I suck your dick, sir?...”

He growls.

“No.” he says. You pout. You did so well, and this is what you get for it. You’re a good girl, why is he going to act like this?

“But I—“

“No buts.” He snaps. “Hands to yourself. Don’t move until we get home.”

Gold dust bursts beneath your eyelids, gathers under your skin, slinks up your throat, and you lean back into the car to watch it curl up through the atmosphere. Your hands are by your side. Where they belong. Where they’ve always been. You barely even notice how hard Namjoon is breathing.

By the time you get home, the soft lights and rounded corners of the world have faded some—not enough to be gone, but enough that your attention has returned to the wetness between your legs. You’re so wet. There’s even a patch forming on Yoongi’s sweatpants. You hope he won’t mind. You recall the way he licked you up in the diner and shudder. He definitely won’t mind.

Namjoon leads you quickly out of the car and up the stairs to the apartment, refusing to look at you, eyes wild, brows furrowed, nostrils flaring and jaw working. He looks like he’s thinking about lots of important things. One of them ought to be how good you’ve been, and how much you need him to touch you, but you’ll let him come to that conclusion himself.

He halts violently in the front hall eyes wide.

“Shit.”

“…Namjoon?” Yoongi’s voice comes from the living room, sounding surprised, almost…guilty?

Namjoon immediately takes a few steps forward, body angled between you and the room.

 You peer around him to snag a peek anyways. Yoongi stares back at you from his position on the couch, belly down and hunched over something black. The bags under his eyes are almost a weird shade of purple, they’re so dark. He looks like he’s dying, drawn and fixated. When your gazes meet, his tongue slips over his lips, slow, heady. You whimper before you’re even aware you’re doing it.

“Really? Yoongi?” Namjoon sounds exasperated. Worn thin.

“Really yourself,” Yoongi bites back, but his tone is gravelly. “When you said you were going shopping I thought it would be for longer than five minutes.”

“On the couch?”

Yoongi’s upper row of teeth suddenly bare in a lopsided grin with a mild chuckle. “Not the worst thing to happen on the couch. Right?”

His smile drops suddenly, nostrils flaring. A shiver crawls up your spine as you watch his hips rock forwards and his eyes flutter back in his head. “A-ah, fuck. What the fuck have you two been doing?...”

It isn’t until you feel Namjoons arm raising to halt you at your chest that you realize you’ve been scooting forward in a trance, trying to catch a closer look at the fabric that Yoongi presses his face into now with a low groan.

“Yoongi…” Joon swallows, hard, “You should go back in your room.”

“She’s fucking hazed, isn’t she, Joon? Fuck, she’s so wet,” he continues to hiss under his breath, as if to himself. “Fuck, she’s so wet.”

This time you can see his arm shift, can hear a slick noise from underneath him, his breath catching. His jeans are hanging a little low on his hips, baring a black strip of underwear, you realize, and with that realization comes understanding. The fabric is Namjoon’s old hoodie. He’s got it pinned to the couch beneath him. When he nuzzles into it, you recognize the faded pattern from the hem brushing his nose. It’s upside down, so that his face is where…where your pussy was.

“It was a mistake,” Namjoon says while your world spins dizzyingly with arousal.

“Hmm…” Yoongi grunts, impossibly low in his throat. “Lots of those.” He doesn’t sound fully cognizant of what he’s saying. It’s absent, slurred. You see why when he twists his head again, mouth lolling open to lap secretively at the hoodie, his tongue pointed and firm. Arousal slips heat down your back, between your legs when you spot his bared teeth. Long, sharp, glistening with saliva as he exhales shakily. Oh, yes. That’s what you want.

Namjoon’s arm presses against you and he takes a half a step back, taking you with him even though you don’t really want to walk backwards. The way Yoongi tucks his head into the hoodie, his hair splaying against the fabric, inhales loudly, humps forward, hips curling with a sloppy sound that indicates just how wet he is in his own palm—it reminds you of an animal.

“Gonna bite holes in the couch, Joon,” he warns thick, muffled. “Mmm…I’m going to lose my fucking mind. She’s fucking hazed. God, I-I can’t do this.”

“It’s only been a day.” Namjoon’s voice is strained. You cast a curious look at him, but immediately your eye is drawn to the tent growing in his pants. He tries to move it, tries to casually tuck it out of view, but it’s too late, the damage is done, and a huff of desire escapes from your throat, eyes threatening to bulge out of your head. You like very much the way things are shaping up. “It’s only been a day—“

“Fuck. Fuck.”

“—We need to give her time to recover—“

Yoongi makes a noise that’s too close, too close, to a high-pitched whimper, his head still bent, hiding his face.

“Recover nothing, recover is bullshit,” he’s babbling, dark, frustrated, garbled by the pillows underneath him. “I need—“

“It’s not a good idea.”

“I need to be inside of her now, Namjoon.” Yoongi pulls his head back up, laying his cheek ontop of the hoodie. His eyes are blown wide, all traces of brown swallowed by obsidian, hooded and piercing as he meets your gaze, blazing a path straight through you. His delicate lips can barely keep his teeth at bay, bitten, abused pink playing peekaboo with glistening pinpricks of ivory. His jet hair spiders out across his forehead, stuck in places with sweat. “I need to drain her.”

“It isn’t a good—“

“I’ll kill you.” It fights its way past his lips, stuttering and stammering, like an addict denied his high, lent credence by the way he digs his nails into the sofa, ruts into his own hand. “I—I’ll, Joon, I’ll fucking kill you.”

There’s a pause of silence, punctuated only by your breathing and the soft fabric noises as Yoongi humps the couch.

“…No, you won’t.” Namjoon’s voice is soft. Quiet. He sighs through his nose, long and weary.

Yoongi opens his mouth to reply, but he stills at the same time you see movement in the corner of your eye. A hand drifting to the hem of Namjoon’s second hoodie. Its twin, on the other side. Shuffling its grip up, taking the hoodie and the scarf with it, peeling it up and over your head with all the gentleness of a caretaker. You can’t look away from Yoongi. He’s stopped moving entirely, too-bright eyes watching you from over the pillows, a snake in the grass ready to strike. You don’t think he’s breathing. Namjoon’s hands return, slipping long fingers beneath the elastic waistband. He shucks them off you, helping you step out by placing your hand on his shoulder. One leg at a time. You sway a little, completely nude, standing in the living room like a sacrificial offering to the heathen gods. And the intensity with which the creature on the couch watches you, your chest heaving with heady breath, tells you that analogy isn’t far off.

You next feel warmth at your hand, wandering fingers drifting to clutch yours in a show of unexpected softness.

“We aren’t going to hurt her,” Namjoon says, fighting to keep a tremble out of his voice. Is it excitement? Fear? “We’re going to take care of her. Right, Yoongi?”

“Fuck,” Yoongi whispers, eyes wide.

“We aren’t going to hurt her.”

“No.” Yoongi echoes.

“We’re going to take care of her.”

“Yes.”

“I will use force if I have to.”

“Mm.”

Namjoon nods, once. The hand at yours disappears, reappearing with a sudden grip of your hair, tugging your head back.

“You wanted so badly to suck cock, baby,” Namjoon snarls into your ear, sending hot breath coasting against your neck, making you squeal when he yanks unmercifully, his grip burning against your scalp, “Here’s your fucking chance. You’re going to take Yoongi down your throat like a good slut. I don’t want you coming up for breath. Do you understand?”

“I understand, sir,” you mewl immediately, scrabbling upwards, delicate fingers flying to his with no effect. The switch has left you reeling with whiplash, but it makes you shake all the same. All the same, it makes you ache. He releases you, shoving forward, and you stumble, catching yourself on the arm of the couch, just beside Yoongi’s head.

Yoongi still hasn’t moved. You slide to the front of the sofa, eyes trained on his, unable to keep down the feeling of being a steak in a lion’s den. But he uncurls from his position, turning to reveal his dick to you, head cocked, hands clutching the cushions on either side of his legs like he has half a mind to tear them to shreds.

You almost choke, just looking at him. Flushed a painful red from tip to base, bright veins bulging angrily, twitching in the cold air apart from his hand. Coated in precum, streaks shining in the light down what you can see of his lower belly, wet patches soaked through the bottom of his white shirt, glazing his cock. Under your stare, it oozes another dribble, and suddenly you’re famished.

“Please.”

It doesn’t register as a word until he shifts, legs widening, hands kneading. You look back to his face. He looks half out of his mind, eyes dark.

“Please.” He repeats, hoarse.

You’re already falling to your knees, jaw dropping opening with the sick plop of your tongue leaving the roof of your mouth, reaching for his thighs. His hips flex when you get close, easing his head past your lips and you can taste the heat before you even descend on him, sucking, laving at his fevered skin.

The noise he makes is sin, lust, and velvet. Not far from a purr. His hands don’t move from where they’re digging into the cushions, allowing you to take as much of him as you want, as much as you can. You fill your senses with him greedily; his taste, his smell, every twitch of his thighs and every bob of his cock into your mouth.

You feel wandering fingers trace your spine, curling around your ass, alighting to your dripping pussy with intent. When two push inside, eased tremendously by the seemingly endless slick that drips from your entrance, you arch into him.

“Y-You fuck her first,” Namjoon’s murmuring from behind as he presses his fingers into you, scissoring, stretching, curling seekingly. You hump against his hand, trying to push him deeper even as you suck Yoongi’s cock down your throat with a slavering eagerness. “Or-or maybe I do…M-maybe we…”

“Both,” Yoongi growls, sharp. A moan bubbles up around his member from your throat and his hips rise to meet the sensation, almost lazy if not for the way he shakes. You feel a hand curling into your hair less than gently, by your face, tugging your head a little to the side so that he can look you in the eye while you suckle at his head. He’s grinning, feral and distant. As your gazes lock, he scrunches his nose at you in a playful snarl.

“You have two holes for a reason, don’t you think?” he drawls past a slur. “Let’s see how wide we can stretch them.”

Behind you, Namjoon grunts deep in his throat and his pace stutters. “Sh-shit, that’s—“

“She wants it. You want it, don’t you? You want me in your ass. You want Namjoon in your cunt. Admit it.” He tsks, his tone dropping somehow lower. “Admit it, and we’ll prepare you first.”

He pulls you off his cock with a fierce tug of your locks caught between his knuckles, teeth baring again in a half smirk, half grimace as he watches you take deep gasping breaths with all the tenderness of a hawk surveying its squeaking prey.

“I—I do.”

“Little whore.” The vampire in front of you hisses, murmurs, but the thumb brushing against your swollen lips is akin to fond. “I know you do. You want Namjoon’s fingers in your tight little hole?”

You’re nodding into his palm, trying to shift your weight more comfortably on your knees. Either he doesn’t notice or he’s pretending not to, perfectly fine with allowing you to arch, crane. Twitching when Namjoon’s fingers bump against those perfect places inside of you with slick, overly wet noises.

“You want him to stretch you wide for me. You want to beg us for it.”

“I do. I want it.”

“I don’t know that she can take it,” Namjoon mumbles, hoarse, but his fingers give you one more pump, squelching into your arousal, before they’re sliding slowly out, tracing up back towards your spine.

“She’ll fucking take it.” Yoongi’s leading you back to his cock, pressing your cheek to his strained member. His head throws back with a low groan when you obligingly lick up as much of his skin as you can, tasting salt and feeling the heat under your tongue. “She’ll take it and she’ll love it.”

“I’ll take it so good,” you agree between laves, between sloppy kisses and slurps. “I’ll take it.”

Warmth presses experimentally against the tight ring of muscles at your ass. When you tense thoughtlessly, it immediately disappears, Namjoon exhaling shakily.

“I don’t think—“ he mumbles.

“I think,” Yoongi snaps. “Stop fucking thinking, Namjoon. Just do it.”

There’s a pause, a shuffling from behind you, the sound of a bottlecap popping open. The fingers return, and this time you make sure to roll towards them, humming your approval as you lathe up and down Yoongi’s member sloppily. This time, you recognize a much slicker feeling—he must have found lube. Just for you. How nice of him. One digit presses deeper, sinking into you and you huff a sigh at the strange sensation; even with the lube, it hurts, just a little, just a sting, but it’s warm and smooth, filling you up. Another finger pad rubs comforting circles into your clit as he pumps his finger steadily into your asshole. Yoongi purrs with appreciation at the both of your compliances, hips twitching.

“Mm, yeah, stretch her good. Stretch her so good, so I can slip right inside of that tight little ass.”

Namjoon introduces a second finger and you have to stop sucking Yoongi’s cock to rest your head in his lap, keening at the intrusion. It burns, it burns, but the thought of taking his member inside of you, the thought of taking both of them, has you shaking with anticipation.

“Hoseok’s gonna be so mad,” Yoongi mutters, watching you whimper and carding lithe fingers through your hair. “His loss.”

Namjoon’s abrupt chuckle is humorless and short. “Hoseok is in big trouble for that stunt he pulled last night.”

“Hmm? What stunt?” The corner of Yoongi’s mouth twitches upwards in a knowing grin. A hand explodes against your ass, forcing you to jump, working yourself harder on Namjoon’s fingers, and you moan thickly.

“Tell him.”

“H-Hoseok came in the room while I was being pun-punished,” You stutter as Namjoon slides a third finger into your quivering hole, stretching you further with a deep grunt. “He-he fucked my chest.”

Yoongi chuckles. “Shh,” he hums, mock-comforting, stroking your hair with one hand as his other drifts to his own member, teasing at the purpled, leaking head absently, drifting to lock around his base. “I know. I know. Did you like it? Hm? You did, didn’t you? I bet it made you so fuckin’ wet for Hobi’s cock.”

He makes a thick noise deep in his throat. “Namjoon.”

“Gently,” is the response. Namjoon’s fingers slip out of you, even as your body clamps down on him as if trying to convince him deeper, and the rush of pleasure as they’re removed has you shuddering. “Go slow.”

But Yoongi’s gripping your hair, patting your cheek, is excited and rushed. Feverish.

“Turn around. Turn around,” he urges.

Obediently, you sit up shakily, assisted by an arm slipping beneath yours, and turn to face Namjoon. At some point, he’s taken his shirt off, unbuttoned his pants to better stroke at the bulge growing at his crotch. His eyes are hooded, his lips are red from his own worrying. He flicks his eyebrows at you when Yoongi’s hand comes up with a sharp crack on your asscheek, jolting you forward. You can hear him shuffling out of his pants entirely behind you.

“Ready?” Joon asks.

You nod, leaning up and seeking out his lips again. He kisses you back briefly, hands alighting on your waist to encourage you down. Yoongi’s hands drift over your ass, your thighs, tugging you closer, pulling you to meet the hot skin of his lap. His fingers as they dance over your cheeks, shifting you open so that he can rub the tip of his dick against your opening. The hot, slick feeling of his velvet head finally breaching the tight ring of muscle has you gasping, scrabbling at Namjon’s arms.

Yoongi is definitely bigger than Namjoon’s fingers. As you sink down on him, impaling yourself on his cock, you clutch forward at Namjoon desperately, mouth open to allow for the breathless mewls escaping your throat. Behind you, Yoongi grunts and hums directly into your ear, tsking through his teeth.

“Are you okay, baby?” Namjoon murmurs, almost sweet if not for the feverishly intent way he watches his elder penetrate you. “Is that still good?”

“Big,” you hiccup, unconsciously trying to shift your hips to accommodate the girth as it parts your walls. “It-it’s big.”

“I know,” he soothes. He keeps up petting your cunt, brushing your clit, rubbing your tits. He leans forward, pressing soothing kisses to your collarbone, up your neck, the edge of your mouth. “I know. You tell me if it’s too much.”

“Oh fuck,” Yoongi growls, low, when he finally bottoms out, sheathing himself completely inside you. “Oh fuck. God, you take it so good. You take it so well. Are you sure Jin’s boys didn’t do this for you?”

“N-No.” You’re glowing at the praise, at the attention, as you adjust. The pain quiets to an ache the longer you sit there, but you won’t deny the twitching in your limbs, the leaking of your pussy. It isn’t taking you too long to warm to the idea of taking both of them at the same time.

“No? No, just us, hm? Think they’ll be jealous, Namjoon?” Yoongi catches your earlobe with a bite that’s a little too sharp, humming.

“Jealous that we got to have so much of baby? Oh, yeah.” Namjoon mumbles, kissing you deep. His tongue slides across yours, sweet and gentle. Your lips smack obnoxiously when you part, the sound so loud in this enclosed space between your faces. “Jealous that she’s ours.”

“Is that right?” Yoongi’s hips move experimentally, thrusting shallow, and you moan at the sensation. It’s like he’s reaching through you to your guts, and you love it. “Are you ours? Hmm?”

“Y-yours,” you choke, humping with him.

Eyes caught in yours, Namjoon fishes his cock out of his underwear, giving the thick length a pump, two, before he’s edging closer. He’s kissing you again as he sinks into you, and you melt into the bliss of being held so intimately, so gently. Yoongi at your back, rocky steadily into your ass, Joon at your front, thrusting into your wet pussy, both humming and grunting with the effort as you writhe helplessly between them. You’re so full, so full, disallowed from resting between thrusts with the alternating rhythm they quickly fall into.

“F-fuck,” Namjoon growls. “So good, you’re doing so good for us, baby.”

When he thrusts especially hard, you can feel it criminally deep inside of you and you arch, hips lifting to meet him. The feeling of both of them fucking into you simultaneously, breathing into your ears, moaning, has you roiling in ecstasy, strong, warm arms holding you up, moving you against them, caressing breasts and rolling your clit.

“I-I’m not going to fucking last…” Joon warns.

Yoongi chuckles breathily, licking his lips so sloppily it’s loud.

“Cum in her,” he demands, hoarse, “Give her everything. I want to feel it.”

 There’s the sound of the lock turning at the front door. Namjoon’s pace quickens with a groan. He starts pounding into your cunt, leaning over you with his brow furrowed, lips parted, sweat making his neck, his cheeks, glisten. His cock fucks so smoothly into your cunt, stretching you around his girth, bottoming out and slipping until he finally settles for rocking up deep into you. The sounds his pelvis makes as he fucks you perfectly are loud, stuttering.

“Gonna, gonna,” he mumbles, licking up your lips.

“Hoo!” Hoseok’s voice calls from the front hall, “What is going on in…here…?”

Joon stills inside you with a violent thrust, cock buried deep inside of your guts, pulsing as he paints your walls with wet warmth, exhaling a grunt into the crook of your neck. Yoongi stills completely, moaning low in your ear.

There’s a pause, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of everyone present. Namjoon presses a sweet kiss to your mouth, humping once, twice, sliding his spent cock from your gaping hole with a hiss.

When he moves to look to Hoseok, you get to see him too.

Standing in the hall, a gym bag slung over his shoulder. His hair’s wet at his forehead with sweat. Under your stare, he licks his lips. His eyes are already smoldering, congenial grin faded into a hungry look.

“You guys having fun?” he asks, falsely conversational.

“No, it’s the worst.” Yoongi’s deadpan reply doesn’t earn him more than a flick of the eyes. “You should probably go back to the studio.”

“Sorry, Hope,” Namjoon interjects softly, still panting. “It—we didn’t mean to go this far.”

“I did.” Yoongi interrupts again in a whisper. You jolt at the feeling of his hot, slick tongue suddenly wetting a path up your neck to your ear. You squirm, both of you moaning quietly when you jostle his cock inside you.

Hoseok shrugs, lips curving into a pout. He slips his gym bag off his shoulder, tossing it carelessly to the ground as Joon flops to the side of the couch, far enough to be out of the way but close enough to keep a discerning eye on Yoongi.

“Well. I’m here now…” Hoseok says low, stalking closer. You’re suddenly very aware of how lewd you must look right now. Yoongi buried in your ass, Joon’s cum leaking out of your wrecked pussy.

“Hmmm about that…Hoseok misbehaved, didn’t he?” Yoongi murmurs into your ear, his breath tickling your neck. He shifts, beginning to roll into you again, stealing your breath. “Left you high and dry. What do you say we leave him?”

It’s impossible to concentrate, between his smooth fucking into your asshole, the way Joon’s rapidly cooling cum runs down your cunt, the smoldering glare that Hoseok throws your way.

“We can make him watch.” Yoongi’s next thrust is overly excited, and you jerk back into him with a loud moan, back arching as his cock parts your tight hole and slips up into your depths. It dislodges more of the cum inside you, encouraging it to ooze out in a fresh glob painting your slit. “Hmmm…we can make him watch and he can fucking cream all over himself in his ridiculous fucking pants. Make him clean it up, suck it up out of the fabric, no hands.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Hoseok’s smile is not friendly. It’s dark, dangerous—not far removed from an animalistic sneer.

“You don’t think I would?” is the glib response, heavy with promise, punctuated by a grunt when you clench around him. Hoseok’s smile disappears.

“Fuck, fuck,” Yoongi pants into your skin, tsking through his teeth. “What a fucking idea. What a fucking idea. You want to see it, too, don’t you?”

“P-promised,” you stammer, mind reeling, toes curling.

“What was that, slut?” Yoongi snarls, a free hand curving around your neck. Namjoon’s eyes dart to his fingers with an expression that betrays how ready he is to save you, even as he continues to recover from his position on the floor, but Yoongi doesn’t tighten his grip more than enough to choke your words and make it difficult to slur through them.

“He, H-Hoseok promised, he promised, t-to fuck me.”

“He promised to fuck you.”

“Mm,” you whimper, nodding, vision swimming with heady pleasure.

“You can’t get enough, is that what you’re telling me?”

“N-no.” You moan when he starts to thrust even harder into you.

“Never enough cock for you. Never stuffed full enough, never satiated. It would take all of us, wouldn’t it, and still you’d beg for more. Tell me I’m wrong.

Come here,” he barks, fevered, without waiting for your reply. “Get over here.”

Automatically, Hoseok moves, the edges of his expression softening as Yoongi’s haze pulls a veil over his eyes. He doesn’t even get a full step forward before Yoongi is commanding him again.

“Down. Knees.”

Hoseok’s legs buckle at the knees, his head flopping forward, eyes fixated on the unbelievably erotic sight of Yoongi’s cock disappearing into you and reappearing covered in juices and lube, the way your pussy weeps clear arousal and thick white seed down your thighs, soaking into the couch beneath you.

“Tell her you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” It escapes his mouth easily enough, but his lips twitch in a faint grimace afterwards, as though the words leave a bad taste on his tongue. Yoongi fucks harder into you, before grunting and suddenly grasping your hips with both hands, one on either side. You can feel him twitching deep inside of you, but he doesn’t cum yet, just rocks upwards, curls absently against your back.

“How sorry?”

“So sorry.”

“Prove it. Show her. How fucking sorry you are.”

Hoseok’s eyes flit upwards, catching you in their endless chocolatey depths. You feel warmth, palms, curling over your thighs, holding you splayed in front of him with long hands. Maintaining eye contact, he leans forward, jaw inching open, tongue presenting itself, before he makes contact with your pussy, licking a long, hot stripe upwards. A low moan claws its way out of your chest, your hips thrusting forwards and halted by their hands, Yoongi’s on your waist, Hoseok’s pinning you to Yoongi, forcing you to take it as he starts to eat you in earnest. He slurps up Namjoon’s cum like he daren’t waste a drop of it, sucking it off your lips, sliding his tongue everywhere but your clit, rubbing through your folds, dipping like a man possessed into your cunt to retrieve as much of it as he can taste. You convulse with every flick, humming and whining, sweating, straining against their grip as Hoseok tilts his head, maneuvering this way and that, as though determined to lick up every trace of Namjoon from you.

“That’s it,” Yoongi growls thickly. “That’s it, just like that. Make her cum and I’ll let you inside her.”

 The response is immediate. Hoseok forces your thighs apart even further, lips finding your clit easily and attaching with a decadent slurp so loud and so obnoxious your ears ring, holding you down as you shake and arch into him, moaning unintelligible pleas for mercy as he sucks you up like his last meal. Your body wracks, shivering, and you hardly even realize how near you are until you’re finally shoved off the precipice. You’re cumming, hard, scrabbling for purchase on Yoongi’s thighs, the couch beneath you, Hoseok’s fingers. The scream that tears itself from your throat is raw, over-extended and cuts out entirely at the end as pleasure races through your entire body, forcing you to convulse and shake.

Yoongi’s steady fountain of curses barely registers until you realize he’s begging just as painfully, as desperately as you are.

“Fuck, Hoseok,” he hiccups, “Fuck, hurry up, get—get in her, fuck, I can—I’m gonna—“

“Was that nice?” Hoseok preens as he pulls away. His mouth and chin are shining, glazed with your arousal. He licks absently at it, slipping the waistband of his sweatpants down teasingly, catching your eyes with a hazy, prideful smirk. “Was that good? You want Hobi to fuck you now, pretty girl? You forgive me yet, hm?”

“Stop fucking around,” Yoongi bites, hands dashing to your thighs from around your back. He opens your folds for you, presenting you even more prettily to the other vampire, who watches you twitch with satisfaction and desire. “Come fuck the communal whore.”

Hoseok’s cock is thinner than Namjoon’s, but it’s longer. When he lines up with your entrance, guided easily by Yoongi’s fingers, and presses in with one smooth motion, you release a deep exhale, head thrown back over Yoongi’s shoulder.

“There you go. There you fucking go.” He encourages in a mumble, hands raising, one to your neck to caress and fondle, the other to your hip, to steady as he and Hoseok start thrusting in tandem.

Hobi’s hips flow into you effortlessly, curling, stroking the inside of your cunt with precision that leaves you breathless. The difference between the fevered way Yoongi now rams unevenly into your ass, drawing thick breaths through clenched teeth, has you clenching around the both of them.

You feel something against your palm, and you turn to look, meeting Namjoon’s eyes. He watches you caught between his brothers, expression heavy. He wraps his fingers around yours, and you realize his other hand is curled around his own dick, stroking himself to the time of Yoongi’s thrusts. He leans his head back, staring at you past hooded eyelids, plush lips parted in quiet huffs as he twitches and releases again, small spurts up his chest, decorating his abdomen. The sight of him, shining with sweat and cum, pleasuring himself as you bounce, filled up and defiled, makes you cry out, wrapping one thigh around Hosoeok’s ass.

“Gonna fill up this pretty ass,” Yoongi hisses, “Gonna fill you up so good, fuck.”

“Good girl,” Hobi soothes through his grin, “Good, just like that, take it, yeah, take it.”

Yoongi’s pace becomes even more erratic, even more uneven, his voice giving way to high pitched mewls and low grunts, burying his cock inside you with a growl.

“N-Nam—“ he pants suddenly, arching, pressing his lower half to your back.

Namjoon sits up with a rush, hand disentangling from yours to reach upwards, just over your shoulder, and you can feel the force as Yoongi’s head is thrown backwards into the cushion of the sofa. His prick twitches and throbs, finally emptying himself into the cavern of your asshole, filling you with wet warmth. Hobi pushes forward one last, long drawn-out time, and cums inside your cunt with a huffed breath almost of surprise.

Behind you, you can hear Yoongi hissing, growling, whimpering. You can feel the struggle as he thrashes against Namjoon’s hold, his fingernails beginning to dig into your hips.

“You fucker,” he spits, seething. “I’m so fucking hungry, you son of a bitch. It’s your fucking fault, you fuck.”

“Shh, Yoongi,” Namjoon soothes, brows knitted together. “Shh, I know. I know.”

“Fuck you, Namjoon, let me drain her fucking dry. You’re such a cunt.”

Hoseok slides out of you, watching your pussy leaking fresh cum with absent satisfaction, brushing a thumb against a flushed lip to collect some of it. He leans up, smearing it across your mouth and you lean forward into him, sucking the digit into your mouth with an exhausted moan.

“Hobi, get her off him.” Namjoon says, sharp.

“Alright, alright. Come on, pretty girl,” Hoseok urges gently, wrapping his palms underneath your ass to help lift you upwards. You try to prop your legs up under yourself, but you’re so sore, so used up, they’re almost completely useless. Yoongi’s member leaves your ass with a plop, his release already beginning to ooze down your thigh. His hands are hesitant to leave your waist, but eventually trail off, obeying hushed encouragement from Namjoon. Hoseok pulls you to stand, into his still-clothed chest, propping you up on your feet and letting you lean against him.

“Can you stand?” he murmurs into your ear. You’re shaky, disoriented, clutching everything you can reach of him. You shake your head ‘no’, burying your face into him, inhaling the comforting scent. “Okay.”

He slowly moves to collect his pants from the ground, keeping your hands on his shoulders as he bends. When he straightens, he pulls the soft material up your legs, wiping at the thick liquid flowing freely from your abused holes. When you flinch away at a slightly rougher tug, he apologizes quietly under his breath, craning to press a weirdly sweet kiss to your cheek.

“I’m gonna take her to get cleaned up,” he says over your shoulder, rubbing comforting circles into your lower back.

“Good,” Namjoon replies, distracted. Briefly, you feel a hand at your calf, stroking upwards in a soothing kind of manner. As Hoseok turns, leading you down to the hall, you catch a glimpse of Namjoon sitting beside Yoongi on the couch. They’re embracing now, both glistening, both panting. Their eyes are closed, Namjoon’s peacefully if not for the worry that creases his brow, Yoongi’s screwed tightly shut.

“Didn’t mean it.” You catch Yoongi’s deep mumble, choked with emotion, as he buries his face in Namjoon’s shoulder.

“I know. I know. It’s okay.” Namjoon’s hand brushes up his back reassuringly, even for how it shakes. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

 Hoseok leads you slowly to the bathroom, props you up in the shower. The space is too tight, too small, to comfortably fit both of you, but he gets down to business washing you clean with the kind of care you’d expect from someone who’s done it a million times before. He keeps you upright, sudsing you up, rinsing you down, keeping your hands on his shoulders, occasionally placing a steadying arm around your waist while he cleans the rest of you with lukewarm water. He hums while he works, some absent tune you don’t recognize.

“Namu seems to really like you,” he pipes up. “I saw that handholding jerkoff thing.” He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “What a sap.”

You don’t have anything to respond with, so he continues.

“He’s not the type to like people easy, you know.” He sighs through his nose, craning to catch your eye with a nod to indicate how serious he’s being. “None of us are. I don’t know what Yoongi thinks…or if he does right now.”

He straightens to continue rinsing your hair, taking the utmost amount of care to avoid getting soap in your eyes.  It feels nice. Warm.

“But if Namjoon likes you…I guess we’re going to have to take better care of you.”

There’s a pause.

“I am sorry.” He says finally. He sounds sincere. “For the tit job.”

Now you look up at him, too tired to really say or think much, but hoping he gets the expression you mean to send him. He grins, wide, and boops your nose with the loofah with a giggle.  

“It was really hot, though.” He adds, in a mock-defensive pout. “Really hot. I jacked off earlier today just thinking about it, you know. Shit, maybe I’m falling for you.”

That makes him laugh, his signature cackle bouncing off the tiles of the bathroom.

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#moth to flame #bts x reader #bts smut #bts vampire au #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #do you see now #do you understand #why it took me so long #none of this was originally in it ok #(hey anon i hope this soothes our relationship. <3 u #sorry again) #FUCK yoongis fuckin MOUTH in this one #i dont know WHO i was CHANNELING #hand to god it only gets worse i just kEEP GETTING W O R S E #am i retconning hoseok being an asshole #eeeeeeyup lmao do what i wanna shrug #oh oh did you get my reference #w the other vampires #eeyyyyyy im not gonna put them in the tags cos its such a small bit part but eeeeeYYY #i dont actually listen to anyone but BTS im sorry i just wanted smone else to exist in this world that WASNT them ok #ive heard some of their stuff just havnt like #idk i dont follow anyone #i was incredibly into super junior when i started listening to kpop but thats cos i used it to write other smut :) #cos i couldn't understand korean #hey how you doing this is a lot of tags huh #well its been a long day alright #its been a day #ive been writing this chapter for so long i just wanna write my FEELINGS now

[ukai-simp-services]

your hq s/o walking in on you masturbating

includes: kenma, oikawa, ukai, kuroo

warnings: heavy smut, cursing, nsfw; degrading, praising, edging, teasing.

a/n: god this took so long for me to write, i hope y’all enjoy. i worked very hard on each character so be sure to read em all ;)

(female character descriptions)

kenma kozume

  you sat with your legs criss-crossed on the plush comforter of your bed - your shared bed with your boyfriend. kenma was rarely ever away from you, his job required him to sit at home by his desk most days, trying out different video game graphics, typing up notes or ideas after trying said game. It wasn’t very often that his company called him in for a meeting, maybe once every few weeks. 

  alas, you still found yourself sitting here, alone on your giant bed, wondering what you’d do with your time. you came home, hours prior, yearning for your comfortable bed after a long day at work. and you certainly relished in those desires, taking a much-needed nap for a couple of hours. but now here you were, brightly awake, with an unusual warmth of desire in your stomach. you were unsure where the urge came from, considering your boyfriend wasn’t even home to tempt you. but it was still there, and it needed to be satiated. 

  so you began your mission, it had been quite a number of months since you last masturbated on your own. your lovely kenma was always by your side, always there to feed your cravings, masturbation wasn’t even a thought when you knew he was just a room away from you. you almost forgot your usual routine when it came to “doing the deed”. 

  first, you slipped out of your leggings, feeling the cold, but soft comforter tickle your bare legs. then, you snaked your hand up your stomach to your breast, fondling it as best as you could. funny, it didn't feel nearly as rewarding as it did when kenma did it. lastly, you picked up your phone from its spot next to you and began your search.

  you searched a reliable porn site you used to use all the time, quickly finding a video that you knew would get you off quickly. you chewed your bottom lip as the video started, excitement building up from the depths of your core. as the video continued, you snuck your free hand down your stomach to your panties. hesitantly, you creeped your fingers under the elastic band of the soft cotton material and reached slowly for your folds. you gasped at your wetness, it was nothing remarkable, just a little surprising considering how quick you made this decision. you began stroking your clit, slowly to start, while still keeping your eyes on your screen. as the video continued on, you quickened the pace of your rubbing, swirling your juices around your clit with your two fingers. you didn’t realize how focused you were on your phone screen, till the sound of your bedroom door creaking open snapped you out of your daze. 

  yellow, cat-like eyes peered at your disheveled state in both shock and curiosity. you opened your mouth to say something, but was only able to let out a struggled mewl. his gaze was locked to your body, taking in your entire form, focused mainly on the hand buried in your panties, taking note of how your hand continued its motions, slowly. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

  a loud, choked moan vibrated from the phone in your hand, snapping both you and kenma out of your trance. 

  “I-i...” you scrambled for words as you quickly shut off the video and began retracting your hand from your panties.

  kenma dashed towards you, animal-like instincts, and snatched your wrist in his grip, slowly putting your hand back in the spot it was formerly in. 

  “continue.” he said, voice laced with the deep desire you so fortunately get to see in him often. his gaze remained down at your body, instead of looking you in the eye. you simply nodded your head and continued your movements again. taking you by surprise yet again, kenma lifted your phone from your other hand and clicked play on the video again for you.

  your cheeks burned in embarrassment, but soon your whole body was flushed from the euphoric feeling rising in your stomach. kenma held your phone up with one hand, watching you masturbate to whatever the hell was on there. he then took his other hand and pulled the cotton material covering your sex to the side, watching your glistening fingers work magic into your clit. 

  he decided he should help out a little bit, so he poked his warm, firm tongue out of his mouth and penetrated your cunt with it. you gasped at the contact, not expecting it since your eyes were trained on the screen. your movements became spastic as the twisting and curving of his tongue played with your insides wondrously. your body convulsed around his muscle, thighs squeezing and enclosing his head. the video you were watching was quick to end, but you couldn't care as you tossed your phone to the side and grabbed a handful of your boyfriend’s hair. 

  kenma’s assault on your cunt only became more intense as he felt you reaching your orgasm, walls pulsing around his tongue. you moaned in approval of his actions, bucking your hips for the friction of his nose against your clit. your high came shortly after, leaving you grasping kenma’s hair for dear life.

  your chest rose and fell rapidly, waiting for your breathing to normalize again before you spoke. kenma plopped next to you on your bed, automatically snuggling his face into the crook of your neck.

“never leave home ever again.” you breathed out, a smile starting to form on your lips.

he simply just chuckled and said, “sounds like a deal to me.”

oikawa tooru 

  oikawa constantly had you on your toes, always watching and waiting for something to happen. with this, also came teasing, he was a huge flirt in general, everyone knew that, but when it came to you it was in every way worse. 

  you stared down at your phone, more specifically, at the text your boyfriend had sent you. 

pretty, but you’d look prettier with the dress off and your legs spread for me <3

  for context, you had went shopping earlier and sent a picture to oikawa of the new dress you were contemplating buying. of course, he was no help in your decision and only used the photo to helplessly fluster you. you sighed to yourself, guess it couldn't be helped.

  but you hated to admit that the text hit you with a swarm of butterflies in the very pit of your stomach -  you couldn't help but imagine your boyfriend in between your thighs, pulling the tight dress up your hips rather slow. 

  of course you had bought it, how could you not after reading that text.

  part of you wanted to surprise him in it, let him come home to you laying in your bed with the dress tightly clung to you and a pair of matching high heels strapped on. unfortunately, reality reminded you that tooru would be practicing ‘til late tonight and you knew that all he would want is a warm bed to crash on, barely even making it to the shower. 

  so instead of bothering your already over-worked boyfriend, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

  finishing your dinner alone at around 7pm, you cleaned yourself up and headed for the bedroom. you crawled across the smooth duvet cover on your bed, cold material rubbing against your bare legs. you situated yourself against two plush pillows, propping your torso up while parting your legs. 

  you pondered for a moment what you should do, it wasn’t an odd occurrence for you to be pleasuring yourself; tooru was out quite frequently because of his busy schedule. your confliction was caused by the fact that you simply wanted tooru, nothing else. 

  even so, you continued your actions; sliding your soft cotton shorts down your smooth and long legs. once situated, you grabbed your phone and searched for something hot to get you off. because you were feeling so touched starved, videos simply wouldn't do it for you today. you needed something more intimate; like the sound of a man’s voice in your ears, coaxing you to your orgasm, directing you to play with yourself how he wanted. 

  yeah, that would do it.

  so you went to your very reliable (totally not reddit or anything) website and searched for something you knew you would like. a seemingly promising result caught your eye, and you proceeded to plug in your earbuds and adjust the volume of the video. you leaned back further into the pillows, trying to get comfortable enough to relax. 

  the video began and you couldn’t help but feel awkward, yeah the man’s voice was hot as hell - deep and seductive too, but something about it didn't feel right considering you had a boyfriend, with a much nicer voice.  

  oh fuck it, you thought.

  there was no secret rule against this, it was basically the same as porn, only it felt nicer because the plot was directed towards you and your orgasm. you felt more at ease with yourself - and with the video. the voice playing was smooth and relaxing. 

  you slowly began to move your fingers as instructed - or should I say demanded, whilst also bringing your left hand up to palm your breast through the thin material of your shirt. you were now working both your clit and your breasts, the feeling of warmth beginning to pool in the pit of your stomach. 

  the voice commanded you to begin fingering yourself - in his words; to “bury your fingers deep in that little cunt of yours”, and who were you to disobey? 

  you did exactly as instructed, indulging your fingers deep - well, as deep as they could go - inside the warmth of your core. you received praises from the man, calling you names of which you most certainly enjoyed. this encouraged you pump yourself faster, all while your left hand toyed with your breast through your shirt. surprisingly, your hands made a dream team, you hadn't felt this amazing masturbating in so long. it was like the voice in your ears was real and the hands on your body weren't your own, but someone else’s. 

  what you failed to realize was, down the hallway from your bedroom, your boyfriend was putting his bags down on the kitchen table and approaching your room - where he heard your soft moans coming from. 

  tooru wandered over to your bedroom, both curious and confused. the way you were moaning, he wondered if he’d find another man on top of you. he decided to bite back his nerves and enter the room quietly, inching the door open with caution. his head poked through the small gap of the doorway that was now exposed, peering over at your writhing body to see that you were in fact alone. oikawa let out a small sigh of relief at this, but then noticed that you were still unaware of his presence and that your ears occupied a set of wireless earbuds. the man smirked to himself, now somewhat aware of what you were doing. 

  he cleared his throat obnoxiously, immediately turning your attention over to him and releasing the breast in your hand almost shamefully. you opened your mouth to say something, but tooru quickly cut you off.

  “my my, what do we have here?” his voice was low and taunting as he took slow strides over to your bed.

  “tooru, i was just-”

  “playing with yourself, my dear?” he chuckled and took a seat next to you on the bed, “that much i can see for myself. just to what would that be, is the question.”

  your face burned in embarrassment and regret, knowing he would manage to squeeze the answer out of you.

  “you- you weren’t home, and i...needed something...”, your voice trailed off as you glanced down at your phone, the audio was paused, but not for long. 

  oikawa seemed to have caught on to your implications and in one swift movement, snatched both your phone and your right earbud from your possession.

  “tooru, please-” 

  your boyfriend made a tsk tsk noise with his tongue, “nuh uh, what makes you think you get to enjoy this alone? honestly, it looks to me like you’re having a lot of fun-” he gestured to your hand which was deeply buried in your panties, “-and i wanna join in on the fun too.” his voice was low and laced with seduction now, his eyes dark and taunting as his face was merely inches away from yours. 

  your chest heaved with heavy contractions, stomach full of butterflies and warmth. you could barely muster out a word, so you stuck with a brisk nod. tooru smirked and plugged the earbud in at your approval, then clicked the audio back on.

  the audio was halfway finished, so the man’s instructions were even more intense than you wanted oikawa to hear. 

  “that’s right you little slut, be a good girl and keep fucking that little cunt for me, yeah?”

  your eyes widened in embarrassment, quickly scanning tooru’s face for any sign of laughter. what shocked you more was the dark expression on his face now, hidden with a deadly smirk on his lips.

  “c’mon baby, do what he’s telling you to do.”

  “good girl, that my good little slut.”

  the mix of the voices overstimulated your senses, your embarrassment soon turned into a wicked desire. you began pumping yourself harder, hand coming back up to grope you breast. your eyes closed shut and your moans began escalating again.  

  you weren’t sure what you boyfriend was planning on doing next, but you felt the pressure of the bed go down as he switched spots from next to you to in between your legs.

  the audio kept encouraging you to pump faster, enticing more moans to spill from your lips. the feeling of a warm, moist tongue pressing against your clit made your eyes shoot open and your head jerk up to see tooru with his head in between your thighs.

  “what? am I not allowed to help?” he quizzed you with a tone laced with teasing.

  you let your head fall back onto the pillow as oikawa took his time lapping at your clit. your fingering stuttered, but never ceased as the voice of a man and the tongue of your man continued to pleasure you. the audio was nearing an end and you felt yourself also nearing an orgasm. oikawa pushed your hand so your fingers went even deeper than they already were, this earned a whimpering gasp from you. you looked down at your partner to see his eyes were locked with yours, tongue poking out to lick at your swollen clit. you felt your walls clenching around your fingers at the sight, voice in your ear aiding in it too.

  “look at you, so helpless, getting off to some guys’ voice? such a needy little whore, aren't you?” 

  you felt all the oxygen in your lungs leave your body, fingers growing stiff inside of you. your boyfriend’s words tugged at something inside of you, an animalistic version of you deep down that needed to be freed. 

  tooru smirked up at you, perfectly aware of his effect on you. his tongue withdrawing from inside his mouth to lap you up for the hundredth time.

  “how pathetic, were you that desperate for an orgasm that you resulted to audio porn?”

  “good girl, that’s my good little girl, cry out for me.”

  you felt your orgasm coming like a tidal wave, the two voices overstimulating your senses once again.

  “that’s so fucking embarrassing, your own fingers are barely enough to please you anymore. you need my tongue to help you.”

  “that’s right, come for me, come around those pretty little fingers of yours.”

  “yeah? you're gonna be an obedient little slut and come for for him? listen to his orders like he’s your daddy, right?”

  and you did.

  with a final whine of pleasure, your body violently rocked itself through your orgasm. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your back arched into air helplessly. your fingers slowed down on their movements, eventually coming to a slow finish. you breathed heavily, chest heaving as the ringing in your ears quieted down. all that could be heard in the room was the thick silence in the air and your contracted breathing. 

  tooru slowly approached the spot next to you on the bed from his former position between your legs, lying next to your disheveled form. once your body had calmed itself down a bit more, your retracted your hands from their position  and turned toward your lover, resting your head on his shoulder. 

  “well, I certainly did not expect to come home to that.” tooru chuckled lightly.

  you quickly dove your face into the side of his neck, hiding in mortification. 

  “god, I'm so embarrassed.” you mumbled into his skin.

  oikawa only laughed louder, earning a light slap on his arm.

  “come on, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every second of that.”

  “you know I did, that’s why I'm embarrassed!” you lifted your head from his neck to retort back.

  he only shook his head and laughed again, wrapping his arm around your body to keep you warm.

  “why did you come home so early, anyway?”

  “well practice ended early because the team wanted to go out to dinner for a sort-of, congratulations for doing so good in our last match. that team we went up against was really hard, remember?”

  “yes, I do. so why didn't you go!” you suddenly jerked your head up to scold your boyfriend.

  “because...I'd much rather be home with you celebrating. besides, I thought that text I sent you was a hint of what I wanted to do with you tonight.” his voice trailed off quietly.

  “oh god, I thought you were just being a damn tease like always! that’s why I took matters into my own hands.”

  tooru propped himself up on one elbow, facing you.

  “c’mon, you know damn well you enjoy my teasing. plus who says we can't go for a round two?” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and gestured at the rising tent under his sweatpants that was nearly poking your leg.

  you smirked, looking back up into your boyfriend’s eyes.

  “i guess that can be arranged, but it’s my turn to tease, i've had enough of your teasing for one day.”

  before he could protest, you were on top of him straddling his waist, hands holding his arms up over his head.

  “fine by me.”

ukai keishin

  coming home from a long day at work, you plopped down your bags and ran your fingers through your hair. ukai was working the late shift at his convenience store like he usually did on weekdays, and he probably hadn’t eaten anything besides snacks since lunch this noon. your body was tired and sweaty, but you motivated yourself with the idea of a hot shower to keep you up on your feet for a bit longer. as quick as you could, you whipped up a plate of steamed dumplings and rice for you and your fiancé to eat. once satisfied with your work, you left the meal on top of the stove with a glass cover on top to keep it warm. 

  hot shower hot shower hot shower you chanted to yourself, reminding yourself of your reward for the long day you had. you went to your bedroom first to quickly strip, tossing the restricting clothes away into a hamper. afterwards, you entered your bathroom - now naked, a chill ran over your body. you turned the knob of the shower to the left, far to the left, making the water spring to life and begin to heat up.

  after a few moments of waiting for the steamy-hot water to rush out, you took a step into the tub. immediately, your muscles relaxed under the flow of the hot water, your skin burned a little at the sensation too. you sat under the water for a good 30 minutes; lathering your soft skin with foamy body wash, scrubbing at your scalp and rinsing the stress of a long day off your body. the shower was full of steam and the sweet scents of all the soap you used. 

  you exited the shower after feeling fully clean and content, wrapping a dry towel around your head to hold your drenched hair. you dried your body off with another towel and slipped a soft robe around your form, before approaching your room. 

  following after brushing through your damp hair, you slid on an over-sized t-shirt from your closet, probably one of ukai’s without realizing. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you walked toward your dresser, you admired the way the t-shirt showed off the shape of your breasts and hugged your hips. you took a step back to appreciate your form a minute more, becoming seemingly more and more confident in your looks by the second. it had clearly been awhile since you felt confident in yourself, your teenage days were over and adulthood was settling into your appearance. 

  still, for the first time in awhile, you thought you looked damn good. 

  a flame ignited in your belly, a flame you had not felt in a long time. you usually tended to ignore said flame, because you simply did not have the time to deal with it. 

  but today was so draining and you had not done this in so long. surely you deserved a reward, right?

  yes, yes you did. a hot shower alone simply was not enough of a prize for the type of day you had. 

  you crawled onto the bed and sat against your pillow, spreading your legs for yourself in front of the mirror across the room. grateful you had not put on underwear yet, you reached down to touch your bare petals. you weren’t wet yet, but it didn't take you long to get there, not with that mirror in front of you. 

  you watched yourself from the spot on your bed, grabbing your bare breast underneath your shirt as you started rubbing lazy circles around your clit. you found yourself soon more relaxed than not, giving in to your suppressed desires. you began to imagine you weren’t alone on your bed, that your future husband with there with you; crawling in-between your legs. you moaned at the thought, eyes fluttering close in a daze. 

  you thought about him grabbing you by your thighs, holding on to them as he made out with your sloppy, wet pussy. you imagined the sounds, his vibrating moans, your wet slick being lapped up and sucked on. 

  your was sex dripping with your cum now, and you watched yourself in the mirror with hooded lids, vividly imaging your husbands head and back facing the ceiling. you could even see the details of his back muscles contracting and relaxing as he continued aggressively devouring you. 

  your thoughts were paused when you heard the front door open, your eyes widened, but remained glued to the image of your body. 

  your fingers hadn’t ceased their movements either.

  “honey, i'm home” ukai teased in his “i'm-a-loving-husband-who-brings-home-the-bacon” voice. something you both found funny ever since you got engaged. 

  you made no sound, too afraid you voice would come out in a squeal.

  you heard his footsteps go into the living room, before his voice called out again, “baby?” 

  you decided to play around and not answer again, leaving him no choice but to find you himself. you continued rubbing your clit as you stared at yourself in the mirror, biting your lip to hold back an excited grin. as ukai’s steps got closer to the door, you found yourself indulging a finger into your core. then, one turned into two. and you found yourself having to hold back your moans, as he was so close to entering your room. 

  a mere second passed before keishin was strolling into your room, looking for his beloved fiancé. he stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on you, two fingers plunged into your pussy, all whilst staring at your reflection in the mirror. 

  he exhaled through his teeth before saying, “princess, what’s this?”

  you tilted your head to the side, gazing at the man before you with half-lidded eyes.

  “what does it look like, daddy?” your fingers maintained their rapid pace.

  keishin was enthralled with the scene before him - not wanting to move an inch so he could continue watching you, while also wanting to pounce on you like a caged animal.

  he decided to just slowly creep over to you, long strides taunting you from your spot on the bed. he kneeled on the mattress, beginning to crawl closer and closer to you. your gazes were locked on each other, all while your fingers kept their assault on your core.

  “you look so pretty baby, touching yourself like that in our big ole’ bed.”

  you only bit your lip in response, eyes trailing back to the mirror in front of you. keishin followed your glance, now also looking at the reflection of you two. 

  he scoffed, “what a little slut you are, getting off to yourself in the mirror.”

  a shaky breath left your mouth at his words, before he turned to you again and propped himself up on his elbow.

  why isn't he doing anything?? you couldn't help but think.

  “go on, don't worry about me. I wanna see you keep playing with yourself, just like that.” it was like he read your thoughts.

  you became a little frustrated, you were hoping he was going to join in on your “play time”. even so, you persisted, trying to dig deep for an orgasm. you continued staring at the mirror, watching keishin watch you. it was fucking hot - but you needed more.

  “ ’shin...” you whined out, tilting your head to look at him.

  “what? is my princess having trouble?”

  you nodded your head.

  he clicked his tongue, “that’s too bad isn't it? my little girl started this herself, now she’s got to be the one to finish it.” he punctuated his words by leaning in closer and closer, his hot breath on your face felt too nice. 

  you understood what you had to do, cum for him once and then he’d finally join you for a second time, but you were so damn touch starved. it’s one thing to be alone and touch starved, it’s another to be with the person you want to touch you, just for them not to. 

  you bit down on your lip as you pounded into yourself harder and faster, fingers reaching deep to hit your sweet spot. you tried and tried, but to no avail. your breathing was rigid now, frustration marked on your forehead, all while keishin sat and watched you like a sly motherfucker.

  he hadn’t even taken an inch of clothes off, and he wasn't even palming himself through his sweats.

  tears of frustration dribbled down your cheeks, there was no warmth in your stomach, no clench to your core, just the cum that dripped down your folds - and that was only from the mindless finger-fucking you were doing. 

  “poor baby, are your fingers not enough? can they not satisfy you the way my cock can?” keishin’s voice was low and his breath caused goosebumps to rise on your neck and cheek. you leaned into his warm touch as he wiped the tears off your face.

  “p-please.” you begged.

  “please what? use your words, princess.”

  “please- please help me cum.”

  keishin laughed in your face, making your cheeks glow a bright red. 

  “so fucking pathetic, can't even cum with your own fingers. what happened to that tough girl act you had on before, huh? when I caught you playing with your pussy to your reflection in the mirror.”

  he leaned in closer, lips barely grazing your ear.

  “-where did that little slut go? you’re so desperate now, it’s not even funny.”

  a wave of pleasure took over your body, and you finally understood that he was helping you cum, he just didn’t even have to touch you.

  “daddy- please...” you begged for more.

  “there’s my slut, there she fucking is. i bet you were just waiting for me to come home earlier; you were waiting for your daddy with your cunt wrapped around your little fingers, legs spread - practically begging to be caught.”

  you let out a loud moan, core clenching around your fingers as you felt your orgasm approaching. keishin tugged at the fabric of your shirt, before pulling it up to reveal your breasts.

  he scoffed, “even wearing my shirt, huh? bet you couldn't wait to stain it with your cum. you dirty little girl, i’ll make you clean up every last drop of yourself with your tongue” 

  you were already so close, but keishin’s words and the way he pinched your erect nipple with his thumb and middle finger - really pushed you to the edge. 

  “cum, cum for me you fucking whore.”

  with one final drawn out moan, you came around your fingers and all over the bed. keishin didn’t even let you calm down from your high, he was already in-between your legs getting ready to lick up your slick.

  you tried to push his head away - your body was still so sensitive from the orgasm, but you knew that the night wouldn’t end without ukai overstimulating you, as he always does. you both knew each other’s boundaries, and this was definitely acceptable - but it was still part of the act for you to resist. 

  “keishin, please. i'm too sensitive.”

  he ignored your words, pinning your wrists up above your head to get your hands out of his way. you complied, but still writhed in his grasp. ukai brought his head down to meet your pussy, shoving his nose harshly into your sensitive clit, before plunging his tongue deep in your walls. 

  you screamed at the rough contact, your ass threatened to lift up from the bed - but keishin put a firm arm down on your body to ensure that you were going nowhere. 

  he continued licking out your insides, moaning into your clit. one hand was holding your stomach down and the other was roaming your left breast, fondling the perked nipple in-between his fingers. 

  you couldn’t help the bodily convulsions you were having, you had already felt so close and he was just starting. you glanced up to watch your reflection in the mirror, smirking back at yourself after remembering how only 15 minutes ago you were imagining this scenario unfolding. 

  ukai began licking you with more fervor, his tongue moving up to toy with your clit, whilst two fingers plunged into your hole all at once, making up for any contact lost. 

  you groaned, arching your back so that your pussy was pressed against his face. ukai moaned into your core, licks becoming a sloppy mess. 

  “you taste so fucking lovely, feels like i haven’t ravaged you in way too fucking long.” ukai groaned his words into your sex, causing all sorts of vibrations to be let loose. 

  you were close, so close, your moans were becoming more rapid and you couldn’t hold back your hands from tugging into keishin’s hair. he didn't seem to mind it either. 

   you were pushed over the edge at the feeling of keishin’s lips sucking at your clit, the sensation being way too much for your over-stimulated pussy to handle. it also didn't help that his lidded gaze locked with yours in the exact moment that his lips wrapped around your little bud. you ground against his face as your cum made its new home all over his chin and all over the bed. 

  the two of you breathed heavily for a few seconds, staring into eachother’s eyes for what felt like forever. 

  “you’re so fucking good.” you spoke first, words coming out choked and breathless.

  he chucked, “yeah, it helps that you taste fucking delicious.” 

  you giggled at his words, making it sound like you were a fucking plate of dumplings or something-

  “did you see the dinner? I made dinner!” you sat up excitedly, suddenly remembering the meal that you made.

  “baby, i think i’ve had my dinner.” ukai smirked up at you. 

  you weren't taking any sexy jokes, not after you remembered your yummy dinner.

  “nope, get up. i did not slave over a stove for nothing.” you bounced off the bed, still naked.

  keishin rolled his eyes at you, “we coulda just ordered in ya know?”

  “hush.” you playfully hit him on the shoulder, before putting his shirt back over your torso and leading him into the kitchen.

  after padding into the kitchen, keishin spoke up.

  “you know, I meant what said. about you getting cum on my shirt, and licking it clean.” there was a playful smile on his lips as he crossed his arms and faced you.

  “I didn't even get cum on your shirt, asswipe.” 

  “not yet, but I'm nowhere near through with you tonight, princess.” 

kuroo testurou

  the red blinking numbers on your alarm clock glowed directly in front of your face, mocking you. 3:32A.M. it told you. you had been tossing and turning for the past 3 hours, how did this happen?

  next to you, your husband kuroo was comfortably snoring, his breathing a steady rhythm. normally, the noise itself would lull you to sleep, but tonight your body was wide awake, antsy about something. you had already gone to the kitchen for a glass of milk an hour ago, a trick your mother taught you as a child. irritated, you glanced at the empty glass next to your bed, clearly it didn’t work anymore. it only made you have to pee, twice.

  you gently flipped onto your back, careful not to wake your soundly sleeping husband, god knew he had to wake up at 6am for work.

  you laid there, flat on your back as you stared up at the ceiling; wide eyed and fully awake. you wondered what other remedies you could do to force sleep on yourself. you could chew some melatonin - but you were sure you’d never bought melatonin in your life, you never had a reason to. you drew in a long breath, letting it out in a sigh. meditation? counting sheep? hot tea? – no, you didn’t want any more trips to the bathroom keeping you up. 

  then a brilliant thought crossed your pretty little mind; masturbation. you almost snorted out loud at the sheer sincerity of it. shifting around a little bit, you rested your hand over your lower stomach - almost teasing the idea of it. your fingers crept lower, now fingering the hem of your cotton shorts. then proceeded to slip your fingers past both the shorts and your underwear. you quickly peered over at your sleeping husband, a wild nest of black hair spread across his pillow. you smiled in admiration, he’s always slept like a rock, usually an arm anchored around you - preventing you from getting out of bed. that same arm was now stuffed under his pillow, you had learned the ways of escaping kuroo’s giant arms long ago. 

  you paid mind back to your situation at hand, continuing the creeping of your hand further down your skin. you sighed at the feeling of your fingers grazing over your slit, instinctively spreading your legs slightly for better access. you began rubbing at your now exposed clit; slow circular motions. you bit your lip at the newfound warmth bubbling in your stomach, a feeling you’ve always enjoyed.

  your husband stirred slightly in his sleep, head now facing yours. you froze slightly, but let out a sigh of relief when his snoring continued. his jet black hair covered his face, only allowing you to see his lips; which were parted as he snored. you almost thought he looked cute, so tempted to run your fingers through his hair. you decided against it, not wanting to wake the poor man up.

  your sex started growing quite wet - quicker than you thought it would. maybe it was the idea that what you were doing...so close to your sleeping husband-

  -was so dirty.

  you bit down on your bottom lip and quickened the pace of your motions, rubbing your little clit with more pressure from your fingertips. 

  still, you wished it was your husband’s tongue instead of your fingers. lapping up your slick and prodding at your sweet spot. you moaned softly, quickly biting your lip again to suppress the sound. fortunately, your husband stayed asleep.

  you started pumping your middle finger into your cunt, needing more friction to finish you off. the action caused you to moan louder, although you really tried to hold them back. and if it weren't your moans that woke your husband up - it was the arching of your back and bucking of your hips, causing the mattress to dip in your spot.

  you didn't notice him though, you didn't notice his eyelids fluttering open behind the shaggy head of hair he had, covering his eyes. he laid like that for a good minute, watching you writhe under your own hand, beginning to grab your bare breast from under your shirt. sleep still clouded his head - making his thoughts a bit foggy, but he was becoming more aware of your upcoming climax by the second. you were so far gone you didn't even realize his snoring coming to a halt, your mind was filled with the most lewd fantasies of kuroo pleasuring you in your bed. 

  when you felt yourself coming close to a climax, a large hand paused your movements by grabbing your wrist. you let out a small yelp, out of pure surprise and terror. you looked over at your husbands form, he was propping himself up on his elbow and jerking his head back a bit to get a better look of you, a smug smirk growing on his lips. his messy hair only covered his left eye now, and you could see the dark hues of his right eye practically glistening, looking down at you with a dark intensity. 

  “test-”

  “i hope i'm not interrupting you, my sneaky girl.” his voice was sleepy and one whole octave lower than it was during the day. 

  “no, you're not...um. i had trouble sleeping baby.”

  he gave you a knowing look and pulled back the blanket that covered his torso, exposing to you his flexed abs. 

  “and you couldn't ask me for help?” he began creeping over to your frozen body, still halfway under the covers.

  “you were sleeping, dummy.” you squinted at him.

  “name calling? well baby, two can play at that game.” he got fully on top of you, then proceeded to sink himself back under the covers, until only his head was poking out. 

  “let me help my chibi-chan out, yeah?” he drawled out the name slowly, knowing just the kind of reaction you'd have.

  “testu, you have work in 3 hours, i-”

  kuroo rolled his eyes at you, before fully submerging his head below the blanket. your hand was still in your pants, it had seized its movement, but it still remained there almost frozen. kuroo pulled the inconvenient hand out of his way, tugging down your cotton shorts immediately after. you felt unsure what he’d do next, considering you couldn't see him.

  after your shorts were long gone, you didn’t feel anything for a few seconds. you perked your head up from its position on your pillow almost ready to call out your lover’s name. you were quickly stopped when you felt a long stroke from his tongue to your wet slit.

  you threw your head back, a long moan escaping your mouth. the ecstasy from the feeling of his tongue unexpectedly replacing your fingers was unimaginable. you writhed beneath his mouth, his arms instinctively going to wrap around your thighs, anchoring you down in your place. his tongue continued its assault with an immense amount of pressure; pushing the muscle deep into your hole, then bringing it out to run circles around your clit. you already felt your body closing in on its orgasm. you had gotten yourself pretty far earlier and your husband was only getting you further. kuroo felt your tightening core around his muscle, and he slowed down his tongue movements - ultimately trying to edge you.

  and you certainly felt on edge, that was for sure.

 your eyes widened at his suddenly slow pace, looking down at the lump of his body covered by the thick blanket. you knew he was getting warm down there, but this was kuroo for crying out loud; this man would go on for hours if he wanted to.

  you felt his grip around your thighs tighten as you bucked your pelvis into his face, demanding a little bit more friction. to your dismay, he gave you the absolute opposite of that; digging his nails lightly into your plush skin to almost warn you not to be impatient. you whined under his tongue, the feeling of slow circular motions was driving you crazy. you were about ready to suffocate his face with your pussy - underneath the already claustrophobic blankets.

  kuroo suddenly sped up his pace again, planning on bringing you close to another high. and maybe if he was feeling nice, he’d let you come this time. he added two fingers to pulse into your sopping wet cunt as he licked away at your clit and your folds - lewd noises escaping through the small holes between the blanket and the bed. he continued pumping you ‘til he felt your walls begin to clench again, squeezing his two fingers tightly together. he immediately pulled them out.

  you gasped at the loss of contact, this time you were really ready to rip the blanket off this man and yell straight in his face. but to your surprise, kuroo submerged himself from under the blanket to meet you face to face.

  “having fun, chibi-chan?” he smirked down at your pouting face.

  “i was.” you accentuated your words with a roll of your eyes.

  kuroo chucked, then grabbed your cheeks in his hand and squeezed them.

  “hey, who said you could give me an attitude, huh? you should be thankful that i’m pleasuring you at this hour.” his voice was deep and laced with lust. you know his actions would soon contradict his words, so you played along.

  “want some kind of award? oh, i’m so glad my husband edged me at 3am! when i could’ve came and went to sleep already! thank you truly-“

  kuroo’s eyes went dark; knowing this game all too well. his hands went from your cheeks to around your throat in a mere second.

  “watch your fucking mouth, brat, or you won’t be coming at all tonight.”

  you smirked up at him, knowing you got him where you wanted. kuroo pulled down his boxers from his position between your legs and began pumping his half-erect member. you simply sat back and watched him. after a moment, he lined himself up with your core, slightly adjusting his position to get closer to you.

“someone’s taking their sweet time.” you had to bite back a laugh at your own statement.

  “patience is virtue, chibi-chan. or did you forget that i could simply stop here and go back to sleep?” kuroo tested you.

  “whatever you say, sir.” you looked deep into his eyes, not an ounce of satire in your voice.

  kuroo licked his lips devishly, any hint of tiredness he had felt before was long gone now. he pushed his cock deep into your core, bottoming out all at once. your back arched instantly at the feeling of his cock already pressing against your cervix.

  “think you can take me, little one?” kuroo smirked down at your face, which was contoured in pleasure and slight discomfort from taking his cock all at once.

  “know i can. start moving grandpa, i’m not getting any younger here.” you teased his slow pace.

  he raised an eyebrow at you, “you asked for it.” and began shoving himself in and out of you at the speed of fucking light.

  you threw your head back in ecstasy, the feeling of his “larger-than-most” cock would never get old to you - no matter how long you two have been together. he almost always stretched you out to unimaginable points.

  “test-testu.” you whined out, tongue beginning to loll out of your mouth.

  “that’s mr. kuroo to you, little one.” the muscles of his biceps were starting to tense up as he continued fucking you senseless.

  you could barely whine out a response, his cock was already so close to pushing you past your breaking point. he made matters worse by bringing a hand down to play with your clit, only to retract that hand and slap your pussy with it, tauntingly. he knew exactly what kind of response he’d get from that, as you wail out from under him.

  “i’m so close...” you almost regretted saying that in fear that he’d just pull out and go to sleep. but you knew better that he already sensed you were close without you having to say anything.

  he smirked from his position on top of you, black hair falling in a mess over his face as he tilted his head down to look at you better.

  “so am i.” he groaned into your ear as he inched his body closer to yours, your erect nipples practically brushing against his bare chest through your thin shirt.

  your core tightened as your climaxed reached itself. you dug your nails into the bare skin on kuroo’s back for support, he barely even hissed in pain at the sensation. your hips bucked as your orgasm took over your whole body, legs shaking from the aftermath of the intense high. your husband fucked you through your orgasm relentlessly, seeking to find his own orgasm. he came shortly after you, deeply groaning into your ear - the noise had goosebumps rising all over your body.

  “always so fucking good, chibi-chan.” his eyes were half-lidded, as were yours.

  your chest heaved as you began to calm down from your high. kuroo pulled himself out of you and quickly retreated to the bathroom to get some towels to clean you guys up.

  but when he got back you were already half asleep, cuddled into his pillow, inhaling his fresh, yet musky scent. he smiled down at you, a towel still in hand.

  you mumbled to him, sleep nearly taking over you, “thank you, baby~”

#kenma kozume #kuroo testuro #oikawa tooru #oikawa toru #ukai keishin #kenma smut #kuroo smut #oikawa smut #ukai smut #hq smut #hq smau #haikyuu smut #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x fem!reader #kuroo x fem!reader #ukai x reader #kenma x fem!reader #haikyuu!!

[honey-milk-depresso]

S/o who is a manga artist

Floyd Leech

Idk

He seems like the type to read manga to me.

it’s usually when the cover page peeks his interest-

geez, Floyd, don’t just judge a book by its cover-

But the story plot has to keep him interested.

otherwise he would find it boring and throw it away or if it’s online, stop reading it.

So he found a manga series which was about many powerful mermaids and mermen that came from the sea to interact with a “I’m so done with shit” protagonist who’s a shoemaker living by the sea and he just be dead inside-

Floyd had many good laughs with that manga series, he reads it everyday, anytime, anywhere.

He just wanted to know who made this???

Its so good???

But he couldn’t find their real name, only having a weird looking pen name, and he couldn‘t even find your face profile!

Before he ultimately decided to give up,

he startled you one day when he burst through your room,

which of course startled you.

But now you expose him to a VERY familiar manga art on your drawing tablet..

”Ehhh~? Koebi Chan draws and makes manga??~ Why didn’t you tell me~? Ehehehehe~”

Yeah shit.

He‘s now all over you and he’s constantly talking about your manga with you.

He doesn’t want spoilers, no,

but he’s always pestering asking you when you are going to be done with a volume.

He just be resting on your head while you draw,

he won’t pay attention to the screen but instead look down to your hands doing the work

It’s magical!

Koebi Chan is so cool-

Anyone who dares make fun of your art would be chased down no matter what,

and he’s gonna have so much “fun” talking and correcting their statement-

Ehehehe~

Idia Shroud

Oh b r u h

Hun-

He big fan

OF ALL YOUR MANGAS-

ART STYLE IS PERFECTION

GODS HAS BLESS HIM WITH THIS GOOD ARTIST AND STORY PLOT CONSTRUCTOR

*french kiss* perfection-

He really loves everyone of em’

Especially those which are harem, shounen or mecha genre

He just be wondering,

just who are you???

Nozaki kun (for those who watch Nozaki Kun manga- totally recommend-)

He tried finding you online but to no avail.

That’s until one day-

ahahahaha-

you showed him your art that ONE day-

and you asked if it was okay?

You kinda wanted to use your art for school events you see?

And he sees a character with the same tupe of art style....

”OH MY GOD IS THAT ARISE FROM STAR BONDS WIEISHOWBDIDHC, YOU CREATED STAR BONDS?!?!?!?”

He is the true fanboy.

he geeks out about your art and manga plot,

And he’s complaining about how why your manga series is not adapted to become an anime yet like ???????

W h y ??????

Anyways,

he’s super supportive of your manga and art,

Anyone who insults you are gonna be trash talked

No mercy.

Man just don’t want you to be hurt <3

Azul Ashengrotto

look,

he only reads literature with them b i g words

So seeing him read manga means the book must have really peeled his interest

His favourite genre of your manga series are the fantasy, thriller, mystery or twisted ones occasionally.

Your manga series his top notch my dear reader

He couldn’t really identify who you were though,

and like the two others I mentioned, online was useless.

Thats until,

you accidentally dropped one of your drawings from your sketchbook,

aka thE WORSE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN TO ART KIDS-

and he being the gentleman he was helped you pick it up for you to retrieve it-

then he saw the art

the veryyyy familiar character with the exact same art style....

“You.... created Kyohei? From Blood Rain??”

Mans now your biggest fan-

He collects all your mangas, saves fanart of his favourite character secretly-

He just loves it okay?

And now that he knows you’re the artist,

he’s even an even bigger fan.

Anyone who insults your art are gonna have to deal with the mafia fish,

maybe letting Jade and Floyd getting into the fun in “educating” the hater.

He just wants to let you know you are special, talented, show stopping and drop dead gorgeous inside out <3

#twst wonderland #idia shroud #twisted wonderland #Floyd leech #Idia shroud x reader #floyd leech x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst idia #twst floyd #Twst Floyd x reader #twst idia x reader #twisted wonderland idia x reader #Twisted wonderland Floyd x reader #twisted wonderland Azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul #twst Azul x reader #twst

[rrasado]

can we get more filo! Mc?? (Its up to you from what fandom u like and the stuffs), hi ate

Watch me try to figure out which kohai are you dkdnsb

Even More Filipino! TWST MC Headcanons but this time it’s because someone requested it.

Calling mga kababayan! @sourpterodactyl @eggy-melancholy @luvielle @twstanmu @leviskokoro. Tag a fil twster!

Cracks knuckles (in all seriousness im cackling at the fact that I accidentally sniffed out most twst filo fans with these so ai ai)

“I knew it ahas Na literal ahas to” “..huh?” “Oh nothing Jamil jeje-“

But in all seriousness, Fil!Mc would feel most at home at Scarabia

I mean why wouldn’t they, hot climate hecking good food and the damned uniform is a tank top, a. tank. t o p.

Do yall know how stuffy the uniforms are!? The scarabia uniform are godsent in Mc’s eyes, and the s w e a t p a n t s

...The cafeteria, they refuse to call it cafeteria, they’re adamant on calling it canteen until their dying days

“Look I get y’all are going for that Conyo Richie private boarding school aura but canteen is elite™️ I won’t change my mind”

Let’s be real here, they’de actually have a high shot at the ghost bride

“YOU WHAT-“ “I tried singing ;-;” “Trey-senpai that ain’t singing thats just mindless drawling— Yknow what, EY LILIA SENPAI CAN I BORROW YOIR CLUB’S GUITAR-”

Have they maybe considered ✨Harana✨

I’m not even joking I am 101% sure they’d pull Harana for Eliza. The twst boys and the slapped ones are all snickering the moment MC got down on one knee

Ha you utter f o o l s.

The suave charm is on. The sultry love sick voice tone (y’all know what I mean) is evident, they’re actually pulling it off realll well.

Eliza would be stunned, escpecially at such heartfelt display of affection that’s peppered with foreign words here and there.

“P-Princess I don’t think-“ “How romantic! Such a lovely display of love💙!”

Ok but...mistaking Jade’s club for a camping club or sum-

I’m willing to make a fic on that another time but only if y’all want skbsjsbsb

Imagine pulling out folk dances, scratch that imagine pulling out Tinikling.(shush server peeps-)

The twst boys are h o r r i f i e d™️

Ankle snapping 101. And the only ones who can keep up are Floyd and Kalim 🤦‍♀️. Jamil is a close second

Remember the Scary Monsters event? Mc has a whole damned Archive of scary myths.

Probably uses only one of said scary myths and look how the magicam mobsters run. Even the twst boys are horrified of whatever this mananangal or kapre is.

“A half bodied demon-“ “a w h a t-“

Hand to god they probably accidentally go pspspspss™️ at the savanaclaw students due to habit (and maybe because they’re trying to get Lucius’ attention)

But Yknow, they don’t know what’s worse, the fact that they look so awakward or the fact that it actually worked, some of the beastmen with cat blood in their biology actually stepped forward.

Hear me out, Yuuken and FiloMc bonding over their countries’s respective swordsmanship.

Even better, They train together

Two isekaid bishes going batsh*t on some ol practice dummies at ramshackle’s yard, bonus some of the twst boys catch them practicing Kendo and Arnis then BAM- instant fear and respect.

Like “Oh hey cmon let’s check on the only two magic less peeps in our schoo- gREAT SEVEN WHAT DID THE DUMMY DO-“

Even even better, they train with diasomnia, (again, I can make a fic of this if demand calls for it dknsns)

So the takoyaki bastard kinda not so lowkey insulted MC in chapter three by saying “Nor do you have a beautiful voice-“...sir- no BASTARD THE AUDACITY-

So after episode three dies down blah blah blah all things good- MC makes a very innocent offer 🙂

“Ara? You want to sing something in the lounge?” “Yes, it’s a very famous lounge song back in my country and we usually sing it at these types of places ” “What song did you have in mind?” “a little song called ‘My Way’ 😊”

If y’all know then You K n o w™️

Imagine if it actually did activate the curse cause it’s a place with legit magic 🤡

Haha bad luck for Mostro lounge 🕺💃

P.S. sebek is prolly still salty that two magicless people from another world can keep up with him in swordsmanship pfft-

Fil!Twst MC HCs pt 1

Fil!Twst MC HCs pt 2

Istg if y’all come at me for more- i can’t believe y’all actually like these tho sksnsn

-♠️

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst filipino mc #twst scarabia #twst octavinelle #twst diasomnia #twst yuuken #twst mc #twst headcanons #rras writes

[ashes-in-a-jar]

And I Owe it All to You

Hello! This is a fic I wrote based on @speakerunfolding 's wonderful Jonmartin scottish cabin comic which I couldn't stop looking at.

I wrote this while watching Dirty Dancing for the first time in many years. Quite an experience xD

Summary: It's a night in for Jon and Martin in the cabin and they decide to pop out the wine.

Rated: T

Word count: 2.2K

Tw: alcohol, drinking and being slightly drunk, minor injuries

Maybe it was the fact that neither of them had gone out much in the past few months. Maybe the Fears prefer their avatars lightweight. Maybe Scottish alcohol tended to be stronger than English alcohol. But the sparkling wine they bought on a whim at the village store shouldn't have had the effect on them that it did.

Having emptied two cups each (Jon was actually drinking out of a mug, since they found only one wine glass, and he conceded the honor of feeling classy to Martin) they have already become giggling messes over some dumb joke regarding one Peter Lukas and a computer that refused to boot.

It wasn't even that funny. But there they were, acting like complete fools leaning against each other on the couch, legs propped up in a completely uncomfortable position on the small living room table (dangerously close to the now nearly empty bottle), holding their cups precariously in one hand and holding hands with the other.

And enjoying every moment of it.

The giggling subsided. They took a moment of comfortable silence to regain their breath and enjoy another sip.

"Can't believe he didn't know he could just u-unplug and replug the whole thing. Even I know that." Jon's speech was ever so slightly slurred, his leftover wine sloshing in his cup.

Martin hummed and then snorted.

"Jon, you barely know how to do that either. I had to teach you how to open new tabs in the same internet window for christ's sake."

"It was a new laptop! All of the buttons were in the wrong p-place." Jon protested weakly, starting to hiccup.

"Sure."

"Prick." Jon nudged him fondly. "You underestimate my vast knowledge of 'modern' things."

Martin snorted again. "Modern, you say?"

"Yes Martin, what do you take me for?"

"An old geezer." Martin tousled his hair gently. Jon leaned into the touch. Then, the words sunk in.

"Hey! Why do you and Georgie keep thinking that? I can know pop culture!"

"Oh yeah? Tell me, what do you know?"

"Uh..." Jon struggled to straighten himself, which resulted in actually sliding further off the couch. "Um...I know S-Star Wars! And uh, Matrix? I think. I've seen it once. Oh! That, that dinosaur movie! And... Titanic?" He finished unconvincingly. 

Martin looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Really, Jon? You're just naming movies now.  And not even new ones. Did you actually watch any of those?"

Jon avoided his gaze "I... I may have fallen asleep during uh, during some of these?"

Martin gave him a long look. 

"Yes alright, I fell asleep in all of them."

Martin huffed "Thought so". 

Jon gave up trying to salvage his dignity, taking a final long gulp from his mug, a small drop trickling down his chin. Martin swiped it away, absent-mindedly licking his finger, not noticing as Jon hiccuped, his face heating up considerably. 

"I-I did like the Princess Bride though— that was a nice film, if a bit sensational." 

"Hang on. You watched the Princess Bride? And liked it?" Martin asked, incredulous. 

"I'm allowed to like things, Martin. B-besides, Georgie made me watch it. Said it was a- a core staple of cinema history o-or something."

"Oh yeah? Did she make you watch those other movies as well?" Martin asked casually, swirling the liquid in his cup. 

"Unfortunately yes. She would cruelly  shake me awake when I finally managed to get some shut-eye for once in my life. I-it's not my fault the only times I could sleep normally were during those, those damn films! She woke me up for that ridiculous scene with the, uh, the bullets in the Matrix. And that lifting scene in that unseemly dancing movie."

"What lifting scene?" 

"That movie with all of the dancing? Th-the one where he lifts her at the end in the middle of the crowd with that song? At least, uh, at least I think there was a lot of dancing, I wasn't actually, hmmm... Focused at the time." 

"Oh my god Jon, do you mean Dirty Dancing? You fell asleep during Dirty Dancing?" Martin's delighted incredulity was plain on his face. 

Jon scrunched up his nose. "That's the name of the film? Good thing I fell asleep then."

"Jesus Jon. That's incredible, good on Georgie! Heh, at least you woke up for that scene. It's iconic, you know." 

"Yes, yes." Jon waved at him dismissively, reaching unsteadily for the wine bottle. Martin gently took it away from Jon and with a much steadier hand, poured the remaining bit of wine into his mug.

"Thank you Martin," Jon mumbled into the cup. 

Another warm silence fell on them, lulling Jon into a half drunken stupor. He nearly threw his cup in the air when Martin's words startled him back into awareness. 

"I can do that scene you know, that lifting part." He was looking intently at his glass. 

"R-really?" Jon hiccuped. "How?" 

"I… I had a boyfriend who wanted to try it. So we did. Turns out that I'm good at balancing large things that aren't stacks of paper."

Jon hummed. He suddenly imagined very vividly Martin lifting someone else in that way and felt a pang in his chest. What was that?

Another beat of silence. 

"Do. Do you want to try?"

"W-what?" 

"Do you want to do that lifting scene with me? I'm sure I could lift you." Martin suddenly sat up, his tone excited and anticipating. He looked at Jon. 

Jon shifted. "Uh, I-I guess it's fine? Sure."

"Okay! Let's do it then!" Martin got up on his feet, swaying ever so slightly. 

Jon looked up at him surprised. "W-wait, now? Shouldn't we wait? You know, to be less uh, inebriated? Don't you need to see the scene again for a reminder?"

"Mmm. We don't have reception so I can't exactly watch the scene again. But, but I'm pretty sure I can do it now, definitely sure! Come on." He held out his hand expectantly. 

Jon took it, stumbling only a bit as he got up. Martin took out his phone . 

"I might even have the song saved. Let me check."

A moment later he gave a whoop of success and the song began to play, filling the main space of the cabin with its soft, if slightly tinny sound. 

Jon stretched, releasing the tension in his muscles. "All right Martin, where do you want me?" 

"You need a bit of a running start, and then you need to jump high right as you reach my arms, so stand over there." He indicated towards the door of the bedroom. 

"Right." Jon stumbled only once as he made his way towards the designated spot. Martin moved across the room stopping right near the kitchen door. 

The song kept playing calmly in the background, slowly building up towards the upbeat chorus. 

Jon looked at him again "I dunno Martin. A-are you sure?" He suddenly felt a bit more fuzzy than he did sitting down. He hiccuped again. 

"Please Jon, you're thin as a rake. Have a little faith." His face wore that determined look that Jon couldn't help but love. 

"Alright, as you wish." He grinned, proud of his clever reference as he took his stance. 

Martin rolled his eyes as well as his sleeves. "Steady on Westley, this is the part."

Jon felt a rush of excitement as he caught Martin's enthusiasm. "Ready?" He asked, bouncing a little on his feet in preparation. 

"Ready." Martin crouched a little, holding out his arms. 

As the chorus neared Jon, with a wild drunken energy, took his running start, jumping up as he reached Martin, grabbing on to his shoulders for support. Martin firmly gripped Jon's hips, bent his legs and with a strained grunt lifted Jon in the air as the song reached a crescendo. 

Jon was flying. 

He laughed giddily, stretching out his arms in elation. 

As Martin continued holding him in his strong grip he looked down at his beautiful boyfriend. Despite the exertion, Martin looked up with the softest expression as the song kept playing for them in the background. 

For a moment everything was perfect. 

And then Martin leaned backwards a bit too far. 

In hindsight, they should have known this would happen. While Martin was better at hiding it, he was as drunk as Jon. And Jon's already impeded balance certainly didn't help. 

As they went down, Jon idly wondered if they could also recreate the rest of the dance if they practiced. And then he hit his nose on the floor. 

After a moment of stunned silence the pain rushed in and Jon grunted. 

Turns out that while most of him was protected from the fall by Martin's soft and sturdy body, his knee also missed the mark and crashed into the floor as well.

Muffled by Jon's body above him, Martin squirmed. "Ugh, Jon, are you okay?"

When Jon didn't respond, Martin groaned and picked himself off the floor, lifting Jon in the process. 

"Oh my god, Jon! You're bleeding!" 

Jon's face throbbed. And so did his knee. His hazy drunken state began fading away as the pain sharpened. 

"I-I think I hit something." 

"I'm so sorry Jon! God, where are the tissues?" Seemingly having sobered up considerably, Martin picked Jon up and carried him bodily into the bathroom. Jon allowed all of this to happen as the shock of the fall dissipated. He let Martin easily lift him onto the sink counter as he shoved a towel into his hands.

"Hold it against your nose while I... Jesus, your knee too?" He stepped back now hurriedly lifting the stained pant leg to reveal the damage. 

"God, Jon I'm so sorry. Hold still, I'm going to find the first aid kit. We shouldn't have done this. This was a complete disaster." 

He kept muttering irritably as he walked away. Jon sighed and pressed the towel to his throbbing nose. His foggy mind still felt as though it was trying to catch up to the recent chain of events. He spoke slowly, attempting to convey himself with clarity. 

"Martin, it's fine. Honestly, I think we both know I've had worse-" 

"You nearly broke your bloody neck! God, where's that goddamn kit." He shouted from across the cabin as Jon heard the rattling of drawers being forcefully pulled open. 

"Martin, please I-I'm okay. It's just a little bit of bruising. It honestly already feels better." 

And it actually did. In the chaos after the fall, they both forgot Jon's... situation. Jon watched as the cut on his knee slowly closed up, leaving only the drying stain of blood behind. The pain in his nose was slowly vanishing as well. 

By the time Martin came back holding the bag, Jon already put down the towel and was tentatively poking at the previously bruised spot. 

Martin stopped in front of him, looking at him with a mixture of emotions Jon couldn't parse out. He smiled at Martin hesitantly. 

"See? Good as new. No harm no foul, I say."

Martin let out a long suffering sigh and took the towel out of Jon's hands. He quietly dampened it in the sink and stepped closer to gently pat at his face. 

Jon looked at him. This close he could practically count his faded freckles, follow every line and trace every mark that was so beautifully Martin. He let himself smile. 

"I must say, I'm quite impressed by your strength, if we weren't so inebriated, I'm sure you could have kept me up there for quite a while," he said quietly, enjoying the fluttering touches. 

"It wasn't because I was drunk." Martin muttered. 

"Pardon?" 

"I said it wasn't because I was drunk that I dropped you," he said a little louder, oddly flustered. "I was looking at... At you. You just looked... I dunno, happy, I guess? I just never seen that expression on you before and it..." He trailed off, concentrating intently on Jon's knee, finishing up cleaning up the blood. 

"M-Martin, look at me. Please look up here." Jon gently tugged at his shoulders to pull him up. At this height, sitting on the counter, he actually came face to face with Martin, seeing his blush and ruffled expression right in front of him as opposed to slightly above him like he normally did 

He lifted his palms to bracket Martin's warm cheeks. 

"There you are," he whispered and leaned in for a quick kiss. He then leaned back slightly. "You know that I'm perfectly happy. Here with you. Y-you know that, right?" 

Martin looked at him for a few moments, then smiled. "Yeah, I do."

"Good. Now, help me down so we can clean up the wine stain, which I'm sure is growing on the carpet right now."

"Wha- oh," Martin said as he turned to see the fallen glass that apparently toppled during the mayhem. 

"Yeah. Let me down?" Jon said again, holding out his arms. 

Martin turned back to him, a teasing expression on his face. "As you wish." 

Jon groaned and allowed himself once again to be pulled, secretly enjoying Martin's burst of giggles as they both walked back into the crime scene that was their drunken night in. 

All things considered, it was a pretty good night. 

#Ahhhh i had so much fun writing this #While watching the movie itself xD #I hope you like it! #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #fabric rustles #tma fic #My tma fic #Tma art #I guess #Because its based on it so

[velveticamoon]

AOT : HOLIDAY HEADCANONS

these totally weren’t supposed to go up yesterday ahaha- 

P.S: this is my first writing post!! i thought it would be an easier transition by writing hc’s, and i got my friend saniya (@bokesaniyaboke) to help me out with writing them, so i hope y’all enjoy :) (enjoy our 2 am chaos-)

i have more writing planned for the future too, and decided that i’ll be writing for: 

- attack on titan

- bungou stray dogs 

- free!

- fugou keiji: balance unlimited. 

don’t be shy to send in your requests, i’m more than happy to do them ;) 

anyways, i hope you guys enjoy, let me know if you want more! and to those of you that celebrated, hope you had a merry Christmas :) 

LEVI

Decorating the house with him!! Except he’d be trying to get out of doing it at first lol

He’d be pissed about the mess that would come with decorating the house 

But if you keep pestering him enough he’ll eventually give in lol 

He’d be very meticulous about which decorations go where, but you’re just gonna have to put up with that 

Pls don’t complain too much, he really wouldn’t be doing it with anyone else 

(in the words of saniya: “ur the only exception be happy about that)

Idk why but i feel like he’d be really good at hanging up the lights?? With the placement and whatnot? 

He probably has a very keen aesthetic eye i feel like (saniya: “pinterest but as a person vibes”)  

At the end of it, while y’all are sitting on the couch drinking some tea, he quietly mumbles how he likes the work you two did 

But you felt like teasing him and he got all huffy and said it louder, obviously calling you a brat right after cuz why wouldn’t he 

EREN 

Ask him to make gingerbread houses!! pls he’d be so excited about it 

He’d even go to the store himself and get all the supplies on his way home and you both wouldn’t waste a minute to start a baby

Look he’d start getting competitive (pls we all know how he is) and would turn it into a competition so be prepared for that lol 

But when his gingerbread house falls over he starts getting angry

Proceeds to drive to the company’s factory to break it down in his titan form (there’s no stopping him now) 

Gets Armin to join him and they smash the houses in their titan forms together LMFAOFNDND PLEASE IM WHEEZING- 

But for real, he’d probably get pouty, and turn into a whiny baby

Don’t call him out on it though he’ll just get even worse lol  

Shower him with kisses right after and he’ll be blushy but he’s fine dw about it 

He’ll get over himself eventually and then proceed to ask with a boyish grin on his face if you wanna give up and just eat the houses as they are 

Y’all end up with stomach aches but it’s fine he makes it a little more bearable :))

MIKASA 

Making ornaments (pls it’d be so cutenjdjn)

Saniya: “she would stab me with an ornament and i’d say thank you” 

Comfortable silence with a little chatter here and there

Every now and then she rests her head on your shoulder (softie) 

Just like Armin, getting super flustered and blushy when you compliment her 

She helps hang the ornaments onto the tree and the tree turns out to look so pretty

Would take your hand and sit the two of you on the couch and just admire the tree in silence 

It’s so comforting you slowly feel like you’re about to fall asleep 

Make her some hot chocolate pls all she really wants is to cherish this atmosphere the two of you have created, all huddled up on the couch together 

She’d totally fall asleep cause the girl’s always working in overdrive pls does she even sleep-

Make sure she’s warm alright?? If u don’t i’ll stab you ;)

JEAN 

Watches hallmark movies with you, only to make fun of them (romance at it’s finest amirite) 

Popcorn fights while watching them 

Will get mad when you see a horse and say “look it’s you horse face” 

He says the dumbest pick up lines during the movie as an attempt to impress you 

“hey y/n, can i have your picture so i can show santa what i want for christmas?” 

“jean, we’re literally dating-” 

Something romantic will happen in the movie and Jean will continuously ask you to recreate that scene. “y/n can we-“ “if your about to ask me if you can spin me whilst ice skating, then no” “aw :(“ 

Oh to be spun by jean while ice skating- but that’s not the point 

Wrap him up in a blanket while watching the movies, he’ll melt 

Call him out on it and he’ll turn into ereh 2.0 (aka another whiny baby) 

Jkjk but he’ll definitely try to deny it cuz u know he’s a “biG oL maNLy maN” but he’s a softie ;)

ARMIN 

Making holiday cards with him 

When you bring up the idea his face lights up instantly it’s the cutest thing omg

I can see him bringing his own supplies to help with getting started

Envelopes, letter paper, markers. Hell, he’ll show up with glitter markers (those things are god-tier istg-)

he gets super flustered and red when you compliment his card

SUCH A CREATIVE BOI

If you mess up on your card he’s totally gonna be there to cheer you up!!

“Hey don’t worry, you can just start on a new one :D”

He probably won’t ask but he lowkey wants the card you messed up on cuz he thinks it’s cute

Makes cards for everyone and then takes you with him to deliver them

Would be really shy at the post office cuz he’s never done this before 

*cue you falling even more head over heels for him because he’s just so?? endearing?? it’s insane??*

Eventually, he gets the hang of it and ends up having a really fun time :D

Let him be the one to place the stamps on the envelopes, it’s ~therapeutic~ for him 

Overall, he’s probably the best person if you wanna use this as a healing opportunity tbh, the entire day is just filled with the calmest atmosphere one could wish for, and the smiles never leave your faces, even after you’ve finished

CONNIE 

Snowball fights w/ our resident baldy jKJKJK

Pls you wouldn’t even plan for it to happen 

It just kinda,, did,, 

Y’all we’re walking through the park, on your way back from lunch or something 

But you decided to make a pit-stop at the park cuz you saw an ice cream truck (do y’all know how rare those are in winter?? I’d be running to get to it pls i have no self-control) 

Anyways, other ppl had the same idea, so now y’all were standing in line waiting 

As he was looking around, his eyes landed on some other kids throwing snowballs at each other, and ideas started forming in his head uh oh-

And there just so happened to be a pile of snow right next to his feet- 

Y’all can probably guess what happened- 

“Hey y/n” “yeah-?” *throws it right at your face* 

And so the war begins 

Two words: S N O W  F O R T S. pls ppl would be concerned as they walked by and saw y’all just trying to fucking PUMMEL each other (sounds like fun tho i wanna do it now :( haven’t done it in years pls-) 

But you have to stop it before one of you gets hypothermia considering how long y’all have been going at it 

Anyways, he’ll buy you a hot chocolate to make up for making you frozen to the bone dw :)

SASHA 

Popcorn and cranberry garland 

Look away for one second and the popcorn is gone but you don’t really mind

Make sure to bring a second batch of the popcorn because the first one WILL be gone 

(maybe even a third stashed away-)

She’s really excited about it tho!! But didn’t expect it to take so long omg 

I imagine her to be really clumsy while making them, so pull a move straight out of a cheesy romance movie and help her out while holding her hands ;) 

She probably won’t notice what’s going on for a good minute tho 

Pls be patient she’s doing her best 😔🤚🏻

But once she does she has the cutest blush on her face pls (i just love her a lot can y’all tell-) 

She’ll eventually get the hang of it and you both make really pretty garlands!!

She suggests hanging it up in the bathroom as a snack pls-

HANJI 

Caroling with them omfg- 

It’s gonna be chaotic

The neighbors hate y’all but its fine 

Look man if ur like me and can’t handle people being loud all the time bring earplugs cuz it’s gonna get L O U D

But if you tell them that their screeching is giving you a headache they’ll absolutely tone it down!!

But don’t be surprised when they inevitably forget about that-

But if you're more energetic than I am then have at it ;) 

Pls me and my lazy ass could never handle that- 

Anyways when y’all reach the houses where they refuse to open the door?? Hanji’s breaking that shit down and hollering into their house at the top of their lungs

Ur literally gonna have to drag them away before someone calls the cops 

Moblit pls get over here and collect them I’m begging u dude-

Don’t be surprised if y’all spend the night in jail that’s just how it’s gonna be oops 

#these were supposed to go up earlier im so sorry folks- #but these were so fun to make #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #aot headcanons #aot christmas hcs #attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #eren jeager x reader #mikasa x reader #jean x reader #armin x reader #connie x reader #sasha x reader #hanji x reader

[honeybunnybeez]

If you are still doing the alphabet thing can I please get a c!quackity? It's okay if not, dont worry!

SFW alphabet:

C!Quackity

♡Reader is Gender Neutral!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Lord we know this man is quite the flirt in some way. He's pretty affectionate with you in front of others and almost has little shame with it.

In public, he likes to hold hands or put his arms around your shoulder or waist, depending on how tall you are compared to him.

In private he's pretty playful, calling out your name out of nowhere only to tackle with you a hug and kiss you. He totally keeps you on your toes when at home.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's a very teasing best friend, constantly joking around with you. Also the best friend people think you're dating before you actually date because of how affectionate he is with you.

You two probably became friends during the presedential election and remained friends since you decided to oppose Schlatt with him and Tubbo.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

My man likes to properly cuddle with you whenever you two have some quiet time alone. His favourite way to cuddle you is by laying on top of you while you stroke his hair or wings.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I would think that he would, most likely after being satisfied with whatever he plans on doing in the server.

Oh my god but he would be so bad at doing chores with you. Washing dishes? Yeah- that's gonna be a 1 hour ordeal as you two have a water fight. Cooking? Food fight. Sweeping around the house? Broom fight- you two keep telling yourself you won't do it again but you do-

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

(Me, having a minor flashback to when he told Eret he didn't like him at all) OKAY- So, depends heavily on the situation. It could either go smooth or just break both your hearts.

If it was just the relationship not feeling natural, he would break it off to you the nicest way he can and would still really wanna be friends with you. He can't cause chaos without his buddy after all.

Oh but if it was because of something bad either one of you did, he would definitely say things he doesn't mean. Things that would break both your hearts. Yeah, it would take a while to ever mend your relationship if that was the outcome.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He has like 2 freaking fiances and 1 (or 2?) ex(es?). (Karlnapity sfw alphabet soon? Maybe-) He's down to get engaged with you for sure.

Okay but he seems to like getting engaged really quickly too- So you'll have to tell him straight up that you need to see where this goes with him. Maybe give like a time period of 6 months or more to see if you two could really live being each others for the rest of you lives.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Emotionally, he is a little rough. He forgets his limits at times and will sometimes say hurtful things to you by accident in the heat of the moment. He'll apologize profusely though when he catches his mistake and sees the way your eyes stare at him with such hurt. He tells you he doesn't mean it and he truly doesn't, he'll feel guilty until you forgive him.

Physically, he is pretty gentle save for his few tackle hugs and kisses. He just loves you a lot and sometimes can't contain it well.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs if it's you giving them. He needs to get a hug from you everyday and if he doesn't he gets super whiny and will even whine in his 'auto tune' voice until he gets them. He likes to hug you from behind, and sometimes his wings cover the both of you as he asks you, "Guess who this iiis!"

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The first time he ever genuinely said I love you was when you had to help him clean his wings after a bad fall of his. He had never let anyone close to them before and so him thinking he could trust you not to hurt him was something that made him realize that he truly did love you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's not a very jealous person, being a very affectionate and handsy person himself, but if you and him don't hang out with one another as often as you used to he starts to whine for your attention until he gets it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are very hyper and almost silly.

He likes to kiss your whole face, planting them in quick succession everywhere to make you laugh.

He likes when you give him long kisses on the lips. Especially if it's during a calm moment. It makes his heart flutter.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Oh he can definitely hang with kids and in return kids love him and his chaotic childish nature too, but he doesn't plan on having any of his own, at least not early on in your relationship. He'll have to think about that for a while.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings are the only time you can find him calm, you usually wake up earlier than he does and he always looks so peaceful while he lays on your chest with his wings laid out like a second blanket.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are filled with mindless chatter between the two of you. Rarely do you guys ever remember what nonsense you two were on about before bedtime. All you remembered is shared goodnight kisses and cuddles.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Oh, after all the stuff he's been through he doesn't trust anyone easily anymore. It will take him quite a while to fully open up to you about all the negative things he feels or thinks about. Just take things slow with him and don't push him to say what he doesn't want to, that already wins you his favour.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Okay this seems like a wild card not gonna lie. I feel like if it involves his plan to gain power in the server and you're against the idea he has he gets very frustrated. You'll have to be quick and tell him that you say that because you're concerned about him and his safety.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Besides dates, his memory is a little hard for me to describe. He remembers a good amount of things about you but things you mention in passing are forgotten until you bring it up or until he sees something that suddenly reminds you of it.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It was when you properly sat down with him and preened his wings one day when he was way too tired to do it himself. The feelings of your fingers through his wings were like absolute heaven and he forgot how good it felt to have someone do it for you. Safe to say, he got pretty addicted to you doing it to him after this event.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Although he may seem outgoing and like he doesn't care much, he is rather protective of you, making sure you don't accidentally communicate with anyone he isn't fond of.

He would protect you by warning you of others, telling you who is safe to turn to and who isn't safe to turn to. He even tells those he can somewhat rely on to make sure you're protected when he's away. If worse comes to worse he'll protect you physically as well.

He needs you to protect him mentally and emotionally. He feels like everyone he trusts eventually betrays him and he can't have that with you. He needs reassurance that you won't leave him like the others would or do.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He would put in a bit of effort to make it special but not a whole lot, he wants it to be fun but natural too. Though you can always gurantee that he'll serenade you during your dates or anniversaries, the music he plays for you is silly sure but they're also super heartfelt with effort put into it.

In everyday tasks he isn't very helpful, running off to cause chaos more often than not but if you do need help he'll always be there to lend a hand. He often times fetches (or steals) things you need too.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He doesn't know when to quit when it comes to wanting to take over the server. While you know how he truly is, it unsettles you a bit how he's able to manipulate others at times. You totally gave him an earful when he went to fight Technoblade because you knew, as much as you loved your boyfriend, that no one would actually be able to kill Technoblade that easily.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Schlatt made him feel very insecure about himself and even though he knows thay bastard is full of shit and burning in hell, he can't help but feel disgusting at times. Hug him and tell him that he's very handsome and adorable the way he is and that Schlatt shouldn't be talking when he looks like a wine mom on her last line.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would feel so lost without, having no support would make him act even more irrational and could also get him killed pretty quickly. You're his voice of reason to a certain extent.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I've written this before but he likes to make nests out of your pillows, sheets and clothes. The mood strikes him at times and you two will just spend the whole day chilling in his little nest while you preen and baby him.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't want someone who leaves him when the situation turns sour, he doesn't want a partner who would leave him behind easily. Most importantly though and as unhealthy as this is, he most likely doesn't want a partner who wishes to have more power than him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He sleep talks and mumbles and that's fine and all but he sometimes he accidentally switches to his 'auto tune' voice and it scares the shit out of you if it's in deep or demonic mode.

A/N: Oh my lord I finally managed to post a c!quackity related thing-! Thank you so much anons for your patience and I hope you all enjoy this! I'm so sorry if this isn't very fluffy but I wanted to mix in a little canon compliance in it too for future angst projects. He was a really interesting character for me to re-study again!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt headcanons #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream smp headcannon #c!/quackity

[buckyismybicycle]

The 107th - (Fresh Plum Cake) [Bucky x Sam]

Title: The 107th - (Fresh Plum Cake) [AO3 Link] Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Sam Wilson Rating: Teen+ Tags/Warnings: FLUFFFFFF, it’s all fluff. Plum cakes, baking, slightly jealous Sam, idiots in love, offscreen minor character death Summary: For two amazing projects that I'm so lucky to be a part of!!

@buckybarnesweek2022​ (March 10th: Happy Birthday Bucky Barnes!) @justapinchzine​ (Team#2)​

S H A R O N

“Remember when you called me awful,” Sharon glared at him over her martini glass.

“You are,” Bucky fires back before sipping his whiskey. He looks more relaxed these days. Sam’s teeth don’t hurt just looking at Bucky’s permanently clenched jaw because Bucky actually smiles. From time to time. His hair’s getting longer and when Bucky doesn’t use any product to tame it, it gets a little wavy. Not that Sam pays attention to these things, of course.

“I’m only awful to you when you deserve it,” Sharon retorts. Bucky and Sharon have this easy back and forth - it’s kind of like what he and Bucky do, except less bitter. Bucky’s face is softer when she does it, less scowly.

“I guess I kind of deserve it all the time,” he says, trying to keep up the joke, but this time it falls flat because they all know how hard it’s been to convince Bucky that he deserves more than a lifetime of shame and regret.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Sharon is quick to respond and Sam watches how easily she places her hand on Bucky’s bicep - watches how he doesn’t flinch. Bucky tries for something like a smile and Sam tries not to think about Bucky’s biceps.

Bucky brings up how when she goes back to Europe, maybe he’d come just to see it again without a “to-do” list and she agrees so quickly that Sam doesn’t even have time to ask “you’re going to Europe?”

Then she brags about only booking in the finest hotels, penthouses all the way and Bucky laughs, like there’s already an unspoken agreement that he would be there too. Sam pictures the two of them trashing a hotel suite that has a jacuzzi built into it or something equally ridiculous.

“Sam, you’re more than welcome,” Sharon says between sips of her daiquiri.

“Right. Maybe. Thanks.” Sam downs his scotch and asks for another.

W A N D A

He’s not really sure when Bucky and Wanda would have had time to bond. He thinks about the airport, how Wanda had been with them, but he can’t recall when they were ever close enough to become friends like this. He has a special ringtone for her.

“I have a ringtone for everyone, so I know when to fucking ignore it,” he’d said, when Sam asked him about it. Asshole.

Bucky is chatting away with her, since Sam and Joaquin are hunched over Baby Redwing because Joaquin landed on his back, hard. The sparks that flew about were concerning, to say the least. Joaquin apologizes again, but Sam just waves him off because god knows he’s done worse. Bucky turns to walk away, but Sam’s entirely honed into the conversation, even if he doesn’t want to eavesdrop.

“I know what you mean,” Bucky sighs. Sam wonders if he actually does, because when he’s talking to Bucky it’s like the old man doesn’t know anything about what Sam’s saying. So what does he know, really.

“Uh-huh. Well, maybe I can make the trip to you instead.” There’s a pause and then Bucky scoffs at something.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’d turn down a chance to completely hide from the rest of the world,” he says sarcastically. “You, me, nothing but the woods for five days.”

Bucky laughs, and the sound makes Sam’s heart sing for a second before dropping again, as he reminds himself that it’s not him making Bucky laugh like that.

“Yeah, can’t wait.” And then it’s blissfully silent while Joaquin strips one of the replacement wires and Sam bits his tongue so he doesn’t say something stupid. Like:

How come you never say “can’t wait” when you’re coming to see me, huh?

Then he thinks about the way Bucky said “you, me, nothing but the woods for days” and he can’t help but wonder, even though he knows it is so, so wrong, if Bucky is Wanda’s rebound or something.

Shut your stupid brain, Wilson, he scolds himself. Wanda loved - loves - Vision.

Sex isn’t just for people in love, you should know that, his traitorous brain supplies. He almost breaks Joaquin’s wings again.

“You two birdbrains done yet?” Bucky calls from where he’s leaned back across the banister, arms on either side of him. His blue long sleeve shirt stretched dangerously thin across his pecs and his lazy head tilt makes him look like a stupid model. Sam resists the urge to throw a wrench at him, but flicks Bucky’s arm on the way out. It’s just as solid as the metal one.

T’ C H A L L A

Officially, Bucky doesn’t even work with him. Bucky has no ties to the government, to SHIELD, to Captain America, he’s just a guy that comes with Sam as a… friend. Backup. Nobody asks, so he doesn’t do anything about it.

Everything with Bucky is hard - it’s hard to understand Bucky, it’s hard for Bucky to understand him. Their conversations are stilted most days, but they both have such a short fuse all it takes is one misstep and the entire talk is over.

The only thing that Sam finds easy are his missions with Bucky. He doesn’t ask Bucky to come - just says he has to do something. The next thing he knows, Bucky is just nodding along and asking him when they leave. Sam never corrects him.

So when Bucky asks him for a favour, he is more than happy to indulge.

He shouldn’t be so surprised when it’s Wakanda they’re heading toward.

Sam watches as Bucky goes through a series of emotions as they fly there - mostly grief, like he’s already mourning T’Challa. The king hasn’t passed, yet, but it seems to be a sure thing and Sam can see why as they enter his room. The majestic monarch has lost weight, and though his face is a bit gaunt, it still holds his usual smile.

“White Wolf,” the name rolls off T’Challa’s tongue, and they clasp forearms in greeting. “Sam Wilson,” he nods at Sam.

“Your Majesty,” Sam responds.

“Thank you for coming,” the king says. “Though not necessary.”

“What can I do?” Bucky asks, his eyes softer than Sam has ever seen. He’s - there are tears in Bucky’s eyes. Sam does not know what to do with this information.

“You’ve come here already, haven’t you?” T’Challa tsks him. “There is nothing else that can be done.”

“Nothing?” Bucky’s voice is barely a whisper, and - yeah - the first tear falls.

“There is no need to waste your tears on me, my friend,” he tries to console the soldier. “Such is life. I am surrounded by my family, by my people, and by my friends. So many often do not get to say the same.”

“I owe you everything,” Bucky says openly. “You gave me everything, do you hear? I finally have a life, a free life, and I wouldn’t have it if not for you. I can’t just do nothing.” There’s a tone in his voice that makes Sam tear up too.

“Help Shuri,” T’Challa responds. “That is what you can do for me. She has trained well, the Dora Milaje have prepared her for the inevitable challenge for the throne, but I suspect you have a few tricks up your sleeve you can teach her.”

“Of course, anything,” Bucky agrees easily.

“Thank you, White Wolf. I will always be part of this nation, so do not think of me as gone.”

Bucky contemplates these words before he nods slowly.

“Wakanda forever,” he murmurs with understanding and a sad smile. T’Challa returns it.

“Wakanda forever.”

He passes the very next day, in the warm sun of the afternoon, and it’s not something they really do, but Sam opens his arms in invitation and Bucky doesn’t hesitate to step into them. Sam’s brain kind of flounders because Bucky is crying in his arms. The sheer gravity of the situation makes Sam tear up. T’Challa was a good man, despite them being on opposite sides back in Bucharest. After all, look at how close Bucky had gotten. Sam regrets that he didn’t have the chance to get to know T’Challa better.

He doesn’t know what fucking compels him to say it, but he just rubs his thumb against Bucky’s shuddering shoulderblades, his other arm around Bucky’s waist.

“I got you, Buck, I got you.”

When they pull apart, minutes or hours later, he can’t tell, neither of them say anything. Bucky doesn’t look him in the eyes, Sam pretends like his shirt isn’t soaked on one shoulder.

“I should - Shuri,” Bucky sniffles.

“I - I’ll be there in a few. Give you some time first,” Sam says. Bucky just nods, and Sam interprets it to mean that he’s grateful, but who knows. He changes his shirt.

S H U R I

Sam finds that Wakanda is both bright and somber, a place that is so overwhelming to a visitor’s eye but in mourning at the moment.

He offers condolences to the people he comes across, sees the reach of the king to his people and how much the nation will miss him.

The last thing he expects to hear is laughter, but as he rounds the corner, Shuri is smiling up at Bucky. She’s still wiping tears from her eyes, but Bucky is talking animatedly to her. Sam’s never seen Bucky say so many words in one go. He holds up an arm to her, and she instantly melts into his side, arms around his waist and head on his chest. He keeps talking to her, and she nods every few sentences.

He doesn’t want to interrupt. There’s a strange feeling in his chest seeing Bucky like this - putting up a front, strong and sturdy, like he hadn’t fallen apart a few moments ago in Sam’s arms. It makes Sam wonder how many smiles are fake, if Bucky lets anyone see him cry, and thinks about how much trust it would take for Bucky to show his vulnerability.

Before it feels like even more of an intrusion, he inches away, tears his eyes and ears away from the scene and doubles back to speak with the Princess later.

They do stay. Bucky says he doesn’t have to, he’s sure that Sam has other things to do, but that he needs to stay for Shuri.

“We’re staying,” Sam tells Bucky with some finality. “That’s what friends do. They stay.”

Bucky blinks, and then nods slowly.

“Thanks for understanding,” he says before he leaves Sam’s room. It takes a moment for Sam to realize that Bucky misinterpreted what he’d been trying to say.

That Sam was staying for him. Bucky probably thought Sam was referring to Bucky staying for Shuri.

Goddammit.

C L I N T

Sam has always known that Bucky and Clint were friends. Like, the weird kind of friends where they pop up randomly, about once every three moon cycles, and one of them always has a weapon.

It’s by far the most bizarre and comfortable relationship Bucky has and no, of course Sam isn’t jealous.

Except, when he gets grounded in New York, and Bucky says “come crash here”, it’s Clint that opens the door.

What?

“Um, hi?”

“Hey,” he says easily back, and steps aside to let Sam in.

“Barton, I swear to god if you - oh, hey Sam,” Bucky says as he comes out of the bathroom, hair still damp, in nothing but fitted grey joggers. Sam has to will himself to look at Bucky’s face, and not the water droplets that drip from his hair and onto his collarbones before running down his torso.

“Um, hi?” He says for the second time.

“Hi,” Bucky repeats, then turns to Clint with a glare and points his finger accusingly. “Stop fucking with my conditioner.”

He promptly turns back into the bathroom, but doesn’t bother closing the door and Sam can hear some very aggressive towel-drying.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, realizing that he has no idea what this dynamic is.

“We’re on Fast & Furious 6,” Clint says, like it answers anything at all. He plops himself down on the couch, like it’s his home and turns a bag to Sam. “Doritos?”

The day goes by pretty smoothly, though bizarrely, and Sam actually really likes talking to Clint, especially now that they’re not locked up on the Raft, but even then, he’d been decent company. Bucky orders a stupid amount of pizza, and then they’re suddenly on Furious 7. He learns a lot about Bucky that night, mostly from Clint.

Clint tells his stories without restraint, he tells every detail regardless of how embarrassing it is for him, because he’s living life to the fullest. Sam thinks it’s because Nat gave up everything for him to do just that, so he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give it everything he’s got. Bucky likes visiting the farm, apparently, and he’s getting pretty good at archery under Clint’s supervision. Sam could swear he sees a faint blush on Bucky’s cheek at the high praise.

Bucky sits between them, and Sam is so very glad that Bucky has a big enough couch to seat all of them. Still, none of them are small by any means, and so his entire left side is plastered to Bucky’s right. He feels every tremor as Bucky laughs, every jolt when Bucky’s surprised. Sometimes, he reaches for the popcorn in Bucky’s lap, and his arm slides across Bucky’s, but Bucky doesn’t react.

“What is with this Charger,” Bucky shakes his head.

“That’s Toretto’s baby,” Clint answers easily. “I woulda thought you’d like it actually. Kinda suits you.”

Sam can totally picture it. Bucky’s vibranium arm glinting in the sunlight as it rests out the window, gold in a sea of black.

“He’s a hundred percent right,” Sam finds himself agreeing. Bucky’s face is scrunched up - not in a bad way, more like he’s thinking about it really hard.

“Really?” He tilts his head. It’s fucking adorable and Sam can’t stand it.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Clint reels Bucky back. “Can you even legally drive? Senior citizens have to get retested for their license every couple of years, you know.”

Sam barely manages to save the bowl of popcorn as Bucky turns and tries to smother Clint with his bare hands (playfully). To save himself, Clint tries to tickle Bucky’s armpits and suddenly there are two grown men laughing like children with their hair sticking up in every direction, and Sam can’t help but join in.

When it gets to be night, he wills his body to stand up and go home. He announces his departure, but Bucky turns to him confused.

“Thought you were staying the night?”

Sam blinks owlishly at him. How does one delicately bring up the fact that there’s one bed and one couch, but three people in this room?

“I got here first, bed’s mine,” Clint winks. Bucky rolls his eyes.

“The bed is big enough for you two to share,” he insists. “Are you really going to boot Captain America to the couch, Barton?”

“The couch is fine,” Sam steps in so Bucky can stop fighting for his honour, or whatever.

“Oh c’mon, I’m messin’ with ya,” Clint says fondly. “The bed is plenty big. Captain America can come spoon me if he wants.” He stretches when he gets off the couch and yawns, so they call it a night. Bucky goes into his bedroom closet and pulls out a bundle of pillows and blankets, hands them to Sam for the couch. Barton follows with another bundle, and Bucky takes it from him appreciatively before setting them on the ground.

“Night!” Clint hollers, and waits for the two of them to respond before closing the door.

Bucky is nestled onto the floor behind Sam’s head and he can’t help but feel a little bad.

“Still sleeping on the floor?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“You seemed pretty alright on Sarah’s couch.”

“That’s ‘cause it was Sarah’s couch.” Sam is quiet, as he tries and fails not to think too much about what those words implies, how Bucky might think of the Wilsons as comfort- safe - home.

“Did I just steal your bed for the night?” Sam asks, because he feels a bit guilty. He would absolutely give up the couch for Bucky.

“No, I - I can sometimes fall asleep on the couch when I’m tired and watching something, but I just. I don’t know, this just feels more comfortable.” Sam doesn’t push, he knows how hard it can be.

“You doing better, though?”

“Yeah, I am.” And this time, Sam really believes him.

S A R A H & T H E B O Y S

It’s AJ’s birthday, which means Bucky is invited back to Delacroix for the umpteenth time because somewhere between Sam inviting him and Bucky really just inviting himself, Sarah had and the boys had gotten attached. He had watched Sarah and Bucky hug easily, how they smile and how the kids can run up to him and attack his legs with hugs. They are probably the only people who can run at Bucky without him flinching or preparing for a fight.

The party is small (by Wilson standards, anyway), but there’s a constant buzzing of conversation as people mill around. It’s hard not to notice Bucky slipping in and out of the crowd as he pleases - he chats politely, smiles, laughs, nods to excuse himself and pops back in the house only to reemerge a few minutes later and repeat the process. Sam wonders why he’s pushing himself so hard.

He watches as he plays with the kids, laying on the grass and lifting them up with his legs because that’s what they wanted. It’s a stupidly warm and sunny day out, which means Bucky’s glowing and for some reason, that’s annoying.

“They’ve been asking about him for weeks,” Sarah tells him, sipping her wine beside him.

“What? No love for their favourite uncle anymore?” Sam asks dryly.

“Oh hush, you know you’re their favourite,” Sarah swats at him. “But you know, they want the both of you around more.”

“I wish we could be,” Sam answers truthfully. Now, Bucky’s got them both sitting on each of his shoulders, his arms lifted to hold them as he walks around the yard. Sam looks at his beer bottle instead of the strip of skin that’s revealed as Bucky’s shirt hikes up. He already knows what he’ll see, knows that he’ll get distracted by Bucky’s dumb prominent hipbones.

“So, what’s got you looking like all this,” she waves at his face.

“Like what?”

“Grumpy,” she states, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. It is, to her, anyway.

“I’m not grumpy.”

“I am tired of you sulking due to broken white boys, you know that?” She rolls her eyes and finishes her wine before getting up. “At least do something about this one before he shrivels up like a raisin too.”

Sam is torn between asking her how and telling her to mind her own business but he sits, quietly, with his rapidly warming beer and his ‘broken white boy’ smiling easily like he doesn’t have a literal (and metaphorical) weight on his shoulders.

Sarah walks over to the disaster zone and says something to Bucky, making him laugh. When he shakes his head, Sarah cocks her to one side like a challenge. And then, she tickles him, in the way that only a sibling can, which is with vigor and relentlessness. Cass and AJ are hollering and Bucky tries to squirm away but he never once defends himself, his arms still wrapped protectively around the boys’ legs on his shoulders.

It doesn’t take that long after his conversation with Sarah, and what he suspects to be a conversation between Bucky and Sarah as well, for the two Avengers to invest in their own property nearby. There was something calm in the Delacroix air that Bucky absorbed, Sam can see it in the way his shoulders don’t bunch up so high, and the lines in his face smooth out.

Sarah hugs Bucky as many times as she hugs the boys in a day, and Bucky just keeps hugging back. There’s a strange feeling of jealousy, but he doesn’t know why.

S A M

Sam is all too aware that it’s not great to start off lies, so when they move into an apartment together, under the guise of “work efficiency” and “both need to get out of Sarah’s hair”, Sam does his best to soothe his conscience.

It is easier to get to missions together like this. It is better to keep an eye out for each other. That’s all. Just partners, co-workers, a couple of guys with a mutual friend that’s now gone – they’re something. They’re just two people that worked together to stop the Flag Smashers. Yeah. There we go.

It’s too domestic, too easy to be this domestic, this fast, but when Bucky pats his hip to squeeze by him for the salt, he can’t help but think how Bucky has a habit of doing that. He’d done it on the boat, he’d done it on the quinjet, Sam’s just never realized how okay he’s been with it all. More than okay.

“Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember when I said I couldn’t call you that?” Bucky thinks for a moment before he huffs a laugh.

“Yeah,” he says again, softer this time. Everything about Bucky’s been softer, Sam notices. There’s no real follow up question, Sam’s just wondering where the hell the time went.

“You’re happier here,” he says to Bucky while he reads over an email and Bucky is looking entirely too cozy with his book under some ridiculous throw that Sarah had insisted would “bring the colours of the room together”. Sam thinks she’s full of shit, because all the blue-white afghan blanket does is make Bucky’s eyes look a thousand times brighter. Does Sam officially hate his sister? Maybe.

“I am,” the man confirms, a small smile for himself that Sam happens to catch out of the corner of his eye.

Sam wonders if Bucky will say something – anything – about what day is coming up, but he doesn’t. He’s not sure if Bucky just doesn’t care or if he’s tired of the old man jokes, but either way, Sam is determined to give Bucky a goddamn birthday to remember.

Neither of them are really bakers, Sarah was the baking Wilson and baking ingredients weren’t worth the money in the Depression, so the pantry isn’t booming with ingredients. He needs backup.

“Sarah.”

“Baby bro.”

“I need you to distract Bucky for a bit.”

“Excuse me? I ain’t –”

“It’s his birthday today. He hasn’t said anything, I think he doesn’t want to.”

There’s a pause before Sarah comes back, a smile in her voice. “Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t,” he replied automatically, even though he has no idea what it is he’s not supposed to mess up. Hoping an idea strikes him, he searches “unique cake recipes”, because Bucky is, if nothing else, unique. Special.

He scrolls past dozens of recipes, but they all range from being too plain and overdone to too complex. What the hell is a baumkuchen?

His eyes land on Fresh Plum Cake and he lights up, brain firing off a conversation he’d forgotten until this moment.

“How does one dude eat this many plums?”

Bucky shrugged. “They’re good.”

“How are they even in season right now, it’s the dead of winter.”

Bucky had been a bit sheepish, and Sam couldn’t help but rib him a bit more for his borderline obsession.

“Look, you wanna know the truth?”

Something had shifted in that moment, the laughter dying down and Bucky looked at Sam with an uncharacteristically open expression, looking like he was on the edge of either telling a secret or fleeing the house entirely. Sam centred himself immediately, wanting to show Bucky that he can be serious about this, that whatever it is Bucky’s about to say, Sam will listen.

“I read that –” Bucky took a deep breath, looking away as if the eye contact was too much. “I read that plums are rich in antioxidants, that – they protect the brain.”

Sam stayed quiet, trying to understand what Bucky meant, but before he could get there, Bucky cleared his throat and continued, staring out the window.

“They neutralize cell-damaging… Just, never mind.”

Cell-damaging – brain – Oh. It clicked for Sam, all at once. “Your memories,” he guesses softly. “You read that plums help protect your memories.”

Bucky just nodded, quiet.

Sam hadn’t liked the way Bucky picked at the corner of the throw over the couch, like he felt stupid for even saying it.

“That’s why you force yourself to eat, like, a hundred a day?!” He nudged Bucky in the thigh with his toe. It did pull a laugh from the man, strained as it was.

“They are also tasty,” Bucky had retorted, flicking Sam’s foot. “The market in Bucharest always had fresh ones.”

Well. It’s been decided then. Sam thinks it should have gone more disastrously, but all things considered, the kitchen still looks like it’s in one piece.

Even if he nearly rips the oven door off a few times.

It’s all worth it, to see Bucky’s face at the end of dinner, when Sarah dims the lights and the boys pull up on either side of him.

“What’s going –”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR BUUUUUCKY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU!”

Bucky –

Sam forgets to breathe for a second, as Bucky smiles. The frown lines that give way to the crinkles by his eyes, the way he wraps his arms around both boys to hoist them into his lap for a hug, it’s all –

“We couldn’t fit all the candles on, so we did the best we could,” Cass tells him with a toothy grin, pointing at the “107”.

Bucky’s laughter has changed too - lighter, louder, like he’s not afraid to make a space for himself and his voice. He gets a wistful look, just for a second, before he plasters a smile back on and thanks them all.

“This cake looks… amazing,” Bucky says earnestly.

“Uncle Sam made it!” AJ has no idea what he’s just done, ratting Sam out like that. Sarah tries, and fails, to hide her smile while Sam keeps his face carefully straight.

“Did he?” Bucky asks in a tone that suggests he knows the answer, his eyes holding Sam’s for just that split second too long that makes Sam’s heart warm.

After dinner and saying goodnight, they dump what seems like every dish and pot they own in the sink, washing a few for tomorrow. They both stand in the kitchen, which feels entirely too small for the feelings Sam is having.

“Are you… Iunno, sad about turning 107?” Sam asks delicately.

“What?” The little groove between his eyebrows deepens, confused.

“You got a little down at the candles…”

“Oh.” Bucky turns the tap off and shakes his hands, reaching for a towel. “Nah, doesn’t really bug me anymore. Think you’ve run out of old man jokes, anyhow. S’just – the 107th, you know?”

Oh, crap. Sam had completely missed the connection between Bucky’s age and his regiment back in the war.

“God, Buck, I’m sor –”

“Don’t,” Bucky cuts him off. “It wasn’t – it’s fine. I just had a moment, thinking about the Commandos… and how different things are. But it’s okay, I’m… adapting. Besides, was still the nicest birthday I’ve had in a couple decades.” He tacks on a grin, small but genuine to put Sam at ease.

“Gonna be as old as Gandalf soon,” Sam says after a moment. Bucky lets out a bark of laughter, and things are back to normal.

“So, next mission?” Bucky asks casually as he dries off his hands, and Sam tells him it’s just a small one. He wants to take Torres out for a spring.

“Lucky kid,” Bucky smirks.

“Why? You jealous?” Sam retorts, waggling his eyebrows obnoxiously.

“Honestly?” Sam’s world stops for a moment so he can look at Bucky, who’s got his eyes trained on the label around his bottle that he’s starting picking at as he confesses. “Maybe I am.”

“Why?” Sam blurts out.

“You really don’t know?” Bucky turns to face him, his eyes are bright and full of life. Beautiful, like the rest of him.

The thing is, maybe Sam’s always known, deep down inside. That Bucky’s been building a life for himself, built friendships to last, become someone new. He’s not the Bucky Barnes from Steve Rogers’ childhood, he’s not the Soldier that crawled out of HYDRA’s grasp. He is simply James Buchanan Barnes, the man that Sam’s slowly fallen in love with, and maybe in that process, became blinded to the fact that Bucky had fallen in love with him too.

“Just to be sure,” Sam tests as before stepping close, flicking his tongue over his lips. “Because I really wanna make sure here —”

“Make sure of what, Sammy?” It’s the way Bucky teases, his smirk a little challenging yet his eyes still soft, it’s the way he takes a step closer too, close enough that Sam can see his eyes flick down, watching Sam’s tongue.

“Wanna make sure I got this right.” Sam leans in to close the last few inches, giving Bucky plenty of time to pull away. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he presses back into Sam, warm and grounding, hands cupping Sam’s face as if he were something precious. Goosebumps break out across Sam’s flesh at the cool, smooth vibranium contrasting the warm, calloused skin of Bucky’s hands as he pulls Bucky in tighter by the waist.

“Think you got it right, pal,” Bucky murmurs against the corner of Sam’s mouth when they part, and Sam’s soft laugh fans across Bucky’s jaw.

“Good,” he says, and brings Bucky back to him. Good.

💖 Thank you for reading! Hopefully you’ve enjoyed enough to check out my masterlist for other thingies.

Taglist: @anonnygon @granpafrisbee @jackiehollanderr @fanatic434 @vivian-barnes @goldylions @moonlightreader649 @buckybarnesau @moviequeen51 @goldylions @angryknightstatesmantrash @rookthorne​

#justapinch #bbweek2022 #bbweek2022 submission #sambucky #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #onlysambucky #winterfalcon #bucky barnes fanfiction #sam wilson fanfiction

[ranboo5]

whats 'the clip' and knifetrick?

Augh. Under the cut for shipping discourse and p/dophilia ment (nothing graphic or specific). Gets long bc I discuss my thoughts on DSMP shipping in general. You are setting me up fr anon

Some quick vocab -

intimacy here is used to refer to. Well. Any kind of intimacy between characters, of any sort, as an umbrella term /r, /p, and /qp here are used as shorteners to denote "romantic," "platonic," and "queerplatonic," both as adjectives And as verbs ("to /r" = "to portray romantically") shipping here is used to refer to any focused examination of intimacy between characters

And some clarity that Should follow from the essay next but may not - """anti-antis"""" and RPF writers delete forever

The Clip is from one of if not the? most recent Discord stage(s) Mr Live has done (which I missed when it was live RIP) wherein he issues a hard ban on shipping him ("do not ship me, in any way, with anyone!") which would less influence c!beeduo (which has been portrayed/stated to be romantic AND nonromantic both conflictingly for a while until being confirmed unconfirmed several months ago, that being the last was heard) without its direct invocation if he hadn't also cited for the reason as being underage ("'Cause, one, it's straight up pedophilia") which is! a) immediately applicable to At Least his DSMP character, Partially and b) while not Strictly True (should b obvious that portraying a relationship within the bounds of what it is in canon and in a nonsexual way is not That, and /r-ing c!beeduo etc was possible to do Appropriately again by remaining w/in the bounds of canon) is Clearly Indicative of the fact that baggage-wise it IS associated with people being fucking creeps

This Really complicates things bc like okay the apparent solution is "lol just don't /r it" but it's really like. A Worse issue than that bc like.

Okay the reason shipping in terms of fictional characters is a Different Bar is bc it's an examination of Intimacy and certain lines exist in certain dynamics of intimacy that Isn't Shown (which is the whole Within The Bounds Of Canon thing) which is important in a medium like DSMP because of the smaller gap + more personal relationship b/w character and streamer. Examining intimacy beyond th bounds of the consent that has been established in that regard is Weird at best and Violating And Creepy more often and, As Mentioned In Ranb's Stage, Literally Evil at worst

Which is why writing abt like. QPR or platonically intimate Techno and Philza (characters) is smth that is fine because that's smth that has been shown and repeatedly stated onscreen; it's in the bounds of canon n thus within th bounds of what the streamers've consented 2 be done with their characters. But writing T3chza making out or whatever is fucked up because it's smth that's beyond those consent barriers

And the thing is right

Slapping a /p on T3chza makeout doesn't. Make it less violating

Like what you CALL romantic is not the measure or whether it's past those barriers yk? And if it's indistinguishable, if it's in extrapolative territory that is Past The Bounds, it Does Not Matter how much you /p it EVEN IF IT IS TECHNICALLY PLATONIC y feel? Like at the end of the day placing a moratorium on some/all forms of shipping is placing a moratorium on certain examinings of intimacy

And okay 2 go back to Mr Live and his character. What it implies taken in context w/ older portrayals of c!beeduo and said by invoking smth that both evokes Really fucked up baggage (that does unfortunately exist btw I'm sorry if you didn't know that but People Really Do B Fucked Up Abt Beeduo) AND applies to his character is a revocation of consent to examining deep intimacies:tm: with his character, which is gonna apply regardless of the nature of that intimacy (even if nonromantic)

Like I don't /r c!beeduo myself, do not, never have, but I talk to people who have and have consumed content where they r background /r; I also don't think it matters. Like I don't Actively /r it and I don't Actively Not /r it because imho w/ the intimacy regarding c!beeduo that is plot relevant and character important whether that intimacy is /p /qp or /r doesn't really matter. I don't consider myself Less of a c!beeduo shipper than someone who /rs them because that would be dumb as hell and while none of the content I've made* is Intrinsically or Intentionally /r it certainly can be read tht way as much as it can be read /qp or /p. It's be dumb and hypocritical of me to like, dunk on ppl for /r-ing c!beeduo when I'm also invested in these two and my tonetags r not gonna suddenly Delete the picking apart I've done of the dynamic @ hand

Which Has Been. Within Bounds Of Canon. It's been what's been shown (sometimes to my great distress. There is a reason that the :canon_beeduo: emote looks the way it does) Directly Onscreen and in general keeping with the tone n intensity/directions of what they've Done With The Characters

HOWEVER

As mentioned up there. Revocation of consent

It makes. Full sense 2 me that Mr Live wants to place a moratorium or fullon ban on shipping his characters perhaps where he wouldn't have before because of the Unfortunately Very Extant trends of people being Fucking Weird about shipping his characters AND of using them as a Thinly Veiled Excuse to ship HIM, which. I should not have to explain why shipping real people is fucking abhorrent

THIS creates a problem which is a. Bit of a vacuum in interacting with what is a facet of c!Ranboo's arc, decision making, and character. Like you CAN have c!Ranboo w/o cbeeduo but you Can't Really have his plotline without examining c!beeduo. And as I mentioned earlier: even if your examination of c!beeduo is fully platonic, the significance of it To the plotline means that any examination of it and its relevance to the plotline and characters IS gonna be an examination of intimacy, which. Regardless of it's platonic, Is Still Shipping

Unless some HARD retconning happens it leaves this like. Hole in an aspect of c!Ranboo's arc and decisionmaking and it's very. Uncertain? God. Fucking months ago I was already kind of :huh. Does he know what the fuck he's doing: irt c!beeduo and desperately wishing for things to be cleared up and now it's only That Much Stronger

NOW. KNIFETRICK, FINALLY

Knifetrick (or, as it’s actually listed, Bishop’s Knife Trick) is a fic about "Ran and Jackie from The Pit TFTSMP" in a "canon-typical ambiguously romantic relationship." As you can tell from the scare quotes, especially if you've seen me vague, both of these are, to put it politely, Doubtful. I've read the fic; I will not be sharing my opinions because that would be neither productive nor responsible (I will just say I can't recommend it and leave it at that) but I WILL say the following that Is relevant to the conversation:

Ran's and Jackie's characterizations respectively have very little to do with characterizations from The Pit, and bear a dollar-store-version resemblance to tropes and personality motifs found in ESPECIALLY fanon c!beeduo, especially later in the fic. I would not go so far as to say they are Intentionally Literally Ranboo and Tubbo but they are transparent expies and were clearly written at LEAST unintentionally w/ c!beeduo in mind (esp since. Ran and Jackie barely interacted in The Pit), and for a readerbase that, as far as I can tell, is HUGELY dominated by /r c!beeduo shippers. Like. Sorry. This is off-brand c!beeduo.

The dynamic between the two is pretty unambiguously romantic, also; despite what the fic's white knights claim, romantic tropes and implications/motifs/imagery from at LEAST chapter two, and is very much explicitly romantic by the most recent chapter.

FROM CH1:

"And now, with raised eyebrows and a pursed lip, the newly named General Jackie observes Ran in such a way that makes the enderman’s skin crawl. Ran reminds himself that this kid, as short and harmless as he may look, is trained to kill. [...] Jackie narrows his eyes and tilts his head a little, as if he’s trying to read in between every one of Ran’s imperfect scales."

FROM CH2:

"It makes Ran’s skin itch with discomfort. [...] 'That actually doesn’t explain much of anything at all,' complains Jackie, and he pops a few croutons into his mouth with one hand. 'Tell me what you’re thinking, pretty-boy.'

"Ran feels his face flush, no doubt mildly glowing green.

"Yes, that was the other thing. The unnecessary compliments to his physical appearance.

"They don’t happen very often, and don’t seem to have very much meaning or intention behind them— Jackie often speaks like an unthinking kid— but when they do happen… they’re embarrassing. [...] It’s annoying how the rug is pulled out from under his feet in these moments when he’s 'embarrassed'. Like the conversation see-saw has temporarily shifted weight in the general’s favor."

I am not going to include excerpts from Chapter 6 because it's just the entire chapter.

I WILL SAY, HOWEVER, STEPPING ON THIS SCORPION BEFORE IT STINGS: they are not written in an RPFy manner and I don't think there's any grounds, including Vibes, of accusing Knifetrick of being like. Closet truthing or whatever. Also, while I think there's certainly Some Weirdness ESPECIALLY around the reaction, the romance itself is Not written in any way I'd call weird or problematic pre-clip; it's nothing inappropriate or like Weirdly Fetishy or whatever. Knifetrick is not #problematic or anything and I don't have beef with like the concept of liking it intrinsically; if I thought it was like. Abhorrent I wouldn't be sharing excerpts lmao dhjfnhdsbvdnfjh. Hence: if anyone uses this post or anyth like it to send harassment or bad faith ANYTHING to anyone involved with Knifetrick I will hunt you down in the fucking night even if it WAS #problematic that'd be the LITERAL OPPOSITE of productive and as it stands it's Literally Not. Essentially: Knifetrick is a (questionably-written /mean) fic using Ran and Jackie from The Pit as a vessel for a large chunk of the dynamics and headcanons of fanon /r c!beeduo in particular

And again, I would not call it problematic in any way (aside from the disingenuity of the insistence that it's TOTALLY UNRELATED TO BEEDUO and TOOOTALLY WASN'T INTENDED TO BE ROMANTIC GUYS like own your shit please)... IF it weren't for the advent of The Clip, which is calling in2 question the Entirety of the problem of /r-ing any variant of c!beeduo or any of Ranboo's characters at all

I really do not have an answer for this tbh. I genuinely wanna hear from the streamer on this more specifically because I like,,, I got no clue where 2 go from here? Do I just consider an arc retconned? Was it an issue of speaking abt a troubling subject kneejerk wise and I'm reading too much in2 it?

I just. I dunno

Tl;dr (AT LONG LAST)

- The Clip is a clip of a Discord stage where Ranboo (streamer) loudly explicitly decried shipping in a way that implicitly applies to characters he plays - This would be all well and good but is rendered complicated by the plot relevance of c!beeduo, which does not stop being shipping if it's /p'd due to it still necessarily being an examination of a particular intimacy in a way that is in canon hard to distinguish the /p, /qp, or /r nature of - Bishop's Knife Trick is an AO3 fic centered around using TFTSMP characters as /r c!beeduo expies which is not a bad thing in and of itself unless it also is covered under this moratorium - Things remain unclear until and unless we get clearer word from streamer, but considering Mr Live seems to be allergic to clarifying anything abt c!beeduo this is doubtful

*very little if any of the content I personally have made 4 c!beeduo has been posted publicly, for related reasons. You May have seen it if you're in servers w/ me, depending on Which Ones

#dsmp fandom critical #kind of? #jic #ask to tag #I am technically defending Kn1fetrick on this post #I am not nice to it but I am defending it technically. If people start being rude abt it I am going to set myself on fire #this IS ludicrously long but I have tl;dr'd it as I do with all my ludicrously long posts. I think I have salient thoughts

[bi-writes]

the light in our eyes — mob!tom

a notorious extra

I haven’t always been this way; there was a time when nothing mattered but the stars.

type: one-shot, alternate universe detail: mob!tom x fem!reader word count: 4k  warnings: mature language and themes series masterlist

The sound of rain was familiar. It pitter-pattered against the windowpane, a kind of quiet that drew in the need for something warm. You didn’t feel needy for long. After a few silent, cold moments, you felt a rough hand slide up your side, fingers brushing your hair away from your neck, cool lips on the soft skin where your neck and jaw met. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, but then those fingers wrapped around the base of your throat, drawing your head back, and you let those lips kiss your own.

Your tongue slipped out from between your lips, and that was when your heard that airy, husky, warm chuckle sound in your ears. You shivered at the sound, feeling that rough hand creep up the back of your shirt, up your bare spine, caressing the place between your shoulder blades, pushing now to draw your body closer to their own. When you opened your eyes, there he was, in all of his glory. Tom Holland, with a wicked grin on that sinful mouth and a light in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“What time is it?” You asked against his lips, and he let out a sigh, his curls flopping over his forehead.

“Half past two, love.”

“What?!”

You sat up quickly, realizing now that you were still wearing your clothes from the day before. Jeans, a t-shirt, and you still had your heels on, your gun tossed haphazardly beside you. You took in Tom’s appearance, his suit jacket thrown onto the back of your vanity chair. His dress shirt was still on, but you noticed specks of blood along the collar of his shirt now, bright against the white of the fabric. You ran your fingers over the blood, smoothing your hand up his jaw and around his neck, and he stared up at you with those lovely dark eyes. You shook your head at him.

“What happened?” You asked. “Why…Why didn’t you call me, Tom? I’ve been…I’ve been waiting, I was worried sick.”

“Got a little sidetracked, but it’s all well and over now,” he said simply. You scoffed a bit, glaring down at him.

“Whose blood is this, Tom?”

“Not mine.”

“I’m not going to fucking ask again,” you said darkly, and Tom let out a frustrated breath through his nose. He sat up against the headboard, loosening the tie around his neck.

“Another Petrov.”

You rolled your eyes angrily at the sound of another Russian name. Being in London only made it easier for your international adversaries to watch you. Not just watch you; they did watch, but they listened for you, found you, made empty grabs at you. You relied on your instincts more than ever now, and you found yourself again and again grateful for always having one hand on your gun and always taking a glance over your shoulder. There were more times than not that you managed to slip away from someone’s angry eyes, from the barrel of their gun, from the blade hiding up their sleeves.

It wasn’t easy for you, and even worse for Tom. He made it a point for you to stay home, away from public, away from open streets, crowds, people. It was too easy to hide in London’s dark corners, and he found it difficult to focus on you and business at the same time, so he had resorted to hiding you away. You had agreed at first after one too many close calls, but now you were itching to get out, to help him, to do anything except sit in this house and be nothing more of a burden.

“Tom,” you said softly, “no more. I’m not…I’m not going to stay here anymore. Not after this.”

You kicked your heels off, grabbing your gun and putting it on the bedside table, opening the drawer to put it away. You sat on the edge of the bed, shaking your head adamantly.

“I’m sick of this shit, Tom,” you said firmly, slamming the drawer shut, standing up. You turned around to face him, and he was taking his tie off, saying nothing but scrunching his nose angrily and clenching that sharp jaw of his. “Did you hear me?!” You grabbed the pillow and threw it at him, hitting him square in the face. He pushed it off of him angrily, grimacing. “I’m not staying here anymore while you risk your fucking life. I’m sick of these people, and I should’ve taken care of it a long time ago.”

You rummaged through the drawers of your dresser, grabbing a pair of black pants and tossing them onto the bed. You took your jeans off, tossing them onto the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tom asked suddenly. “Get back in bed, y/n.”

“Fuck you, Tom,” you snapped, slipping the pants on, grabbing your thigh holster off the desk of your vanity. Tom stood up, coming towards you. You stiffened as he grabbed the holster, snatching it out of your hands and tossing it behind him. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting, and you could feel an angry heat rising up in your chest.

Tom was easy to meet that heat. He stood up straighter, his face stoic and hard, and he felt his own body quickly build with a frustration that had him biting back all the things he wanted to say to you. Tom had to do this a lot. While he could lash out at his men whenever he wanted, it wasn’t the same with you. As soon as he raised his voice, he knew you would have him on the floor. You had done that once before, when he had done something reckless. He had yelled at you, and you had shown him just how careful he had to be when he spoke to you. You had said something about respect, but it was enough for Tom to never dare raise his voice at you again.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Tom growled, reaching up to grab your chin. You smacked his hand away before he could touch your face, and when he tried with the other hand, you swiped the blade out of your belt and held it up to his chin. Tom knew you wouldn’t hurt him, but he wasn’t completely comfortable with the position, nonetheless.

“I’ll go where I please,” you said defiantly. For a moment, Tom could feel a swell of pride rise up in his chest. You didn’t back down for anything, and he admired how strong and confident you could be. Even like this, angry and disobedient, he thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful; but he couldn’t let you leave, not alone, not at this hour, and certainly not without a plan.

He brought his arm up suddenly to take the blade off his neck, but you moved to the side too quickly, lifting your foot up and kicking in the back of his knee, bringing Tom straight to his knees. You dropped the knife as he grabbed your waist, moving to bring you down onto the floor with him. You grunted as he had you on your back in seconds, and you could sense he was about to trap you against the floor. You rolled out from under him before he could, catching his head between your thighs and crossing your ankles, using the last of your strength to squeeze his neck between them, rendering him completely slack as he tried to breathe. Normally, Tom would kill to have his head between your thighs, but this wasn’t exactly romantic.

You kept squeezing, watching as Tom’s entire face became red as he tried to breathe, coughing out uncontrollably as you slowly choked him. Finally, you heard his hand smacking the floor repeatedly as he tapped out, and you let go of him. Tom fell onto his side onto the floor, letting out wheezing breaths and coughs as he tried to recover, and you stood up, blowing hair out of your face as you went to retrieve the thigh holster he had thrown across the bedroom.

You did feel a little bad to see your husband gasping for air on your account, but you were sick of him telling you what to do, keeping you hidden away while he unsuccessfully tried to take care of your problems.

“Bloody hell, y/n,” Tom croaked, standing up finally. He rubbed the back of his neck, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as you dropped your gun into its place around your thigh, grabbing your jacket and fitting it on, zipping it up securely. “No, fuck, y/n, you’re not…you’re not going anywhere.”

You laughed a bit, bitterly, “try me, Tom. You won’t win.”

You met his eyes in the mirror as you adjusted your hair, narrowing your own at him, as if daring him to try and stop you again. He swallowed hard, shaking his head. You sighed a bit, watching him massage his sore muscles. You turned around to face him, coming towards him, and you cupped both of his cheeks in your palms, bringing his head up gently. The rain was falling harder, and the way the moonlight danced across his features made you admire him more a bit more carefully, taking the time to appreciate the gentle features of his face.

“I know why you want to stop me,” you said lowly. “But I’m tired of letting them get to us, Tom. It’s me they’re after, and you’re the one that’s trying to fix things. You can’t do this by yourself, I thought…I thought we said we weren’t going to do things alone anymore, Tom.”

“Then why are you going, love?” He asked gently, scrunching his face a bit painfully. “You don’t even have a plan, and you’re going to go and do what? Barge in there? Kill them all?”

“If that’s what I have to do.”

“You and I both know how bloody foolish that is,” he murmured, and you closed your eyes a bit, lowering yourself slowly, taking a seat in his lap. You leaned your forehead against his, your lips trembling as you tried to listen to the gentle breaths coming in and out of him.

“W-What else am I supposed to do, Tom? God, we just got our fucking lives back, and…it never ends,” you said weakly, nuzzling your nose against him. He brought his hand up, cupping the back of your neck, and he guided your lips to his, kissing you warmly.

“This city is all over the place,” he mumbled. “I just…I needed you to stay here while I sorted things out. I can’t handle the people here if I’m always looking over my shoulder, worrying about you—”

“Tom,” you opened your eyes. “You and I both know I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not enough,” he said lowly. “They had the upper hand on you every bloody time, and the only reason you got out of those fucking situations was because you happened to be vigilant, but what happens when you’re not?”

“Tom, I never let my guard down.”

“We all do, y/n, and when you finally do, that’s when they’ll fucking come for you, and I can’t—” He stopped, gripping the back of your neck tightly, shaking his head. “I can’t protect you all the time. I just can’t, and it kills me inside.”

“Tom,” you said slowly, pulling back just a bit. “You’re going to have to trust me. You’re going to have to trust that when you can’t protect me, I can protect myself. You know I can, Tom, there’s…there’s no reason to worry.”

Tom didn’t agree. As you spoke gently, memories flashed in his head, memories of you. He thought of you that one night, the night you first allowed him to put his hands on you, the night you first let him having a taste, a touch, a drop of you. He remembered the way your eyes had been so dim, so dark, with nothing but fear and regret inside of them. He remembered how you cried, how you held onto him, how you talked about being scared. He remembered feeling defeat, feeling nothing but guilt, for not being able to protect the woman he felt everything for. He had vowed to himself, to you, that he would never put you in danger again.

It haunted him still.

“I worry,” Tom muttered. “I worry, y/n, and there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind. Because if I stop worrying, then…then…”

You slid your hand into his curls, touching them gently as you leaned down and kissed him again, slowly at first. Then, your hands found purchase on his taut chest, pushing him down gently as you climbed over him. Your thighs on eighter side of his hips, your forearms caging his head, you kissed warmly, bodies pressed close together as he held you tight. One of his hands slid up the expanse of your back while the other traveled up your thigh. You didn’t feel heat or passion in his kiss; you felt apprehension, terror, uneasiness. Tom was afraid, and you could feel every ounce of it in the way he touched you, talked to you, breathed against you. Tom was never good with words, but his eyes could tell stories and his touch could make you feel a million feelings all at once.

That was Tom. Tom, the dangerous, terrifying man with enough power to overthrow governments, had a weakness, and it was always you, and it was always his words. He could command a room, an army, he could convince priests that he was without sin, but he was dumbfounded, speechless, absolutely silent when it came to the woman he loved more than he loved himself.

You.

You, you, always you, the single human being on this entire planet that had him overthinking every move and doubting all of his instincts. Tom was incredibly calculated, planned everything down to the very last detail, but suddenly, with you, he would forget it all. You made his stoic heart feel something, feel more than nothing, and Tom had forgotten what love was like for so long. He had it now, he held it in his arms, he held it so close to his fucking heart, and he would be damned if he lost it.

If I lose you, I lose myself. Maybe it’s selfish, maybe it’s cruel, but I would chain to you this bed if it meant I got to feel this, all the time, never ending, for all of eternity.

Tom loving anything was surreal because Tom Holland loved truly nothing except for himself. But with you, somehow with you, his love was endless, stretching across the vast nothingness he felt inside of him and swallowing him whole until he felt nothing but a deep, burning, hungry warmth. There was something inside of him that came alive, that became human, and he thought, for just a few seconds, that maybe God would forgive the red on his ledger and the deep, gaping wounds he left in his wake. He thought, when you kissed, that perhaps heaven was real because that was the only explanation for the intense, blinding feeling that overcame him when your lips touched.

And even when the light fades, and even when the feelings go away, she’s still here, she’s still beautiful, and I still love her because even when the world is without color, without life, blurry, she is still here, vivid, perfect, and I am still speechless.

“You have to trust me.”

Your voice came out angelic, light, a breeze filled with leaves the color of love. Your hand came up, your fingertips spreading across his face, soft and gentle, and Tom found himself in a lull of your doing as you kissed his face, held him, drew him in.

“I do trust you. It’s everyone else I don’t bloody trust.”

Cheek against cheek, Tom could feel your breath against his ear, warm and sweet.

“I love you, Tom.”

That was all you had to say, because Tom’s head was filled with nothing but paradise, and your words only made him breathe easier.

“I love you, too, darling.”

It had been a long time since Tom ever had to wait. Men in power didn’t wait. Everything came to them, fell at their feet, and all he had to do was snap their fingers, wave their hand, open their mouth and simply speak.

But Tom had to wait, for you, and it made him uneasy. Without the intoxication of your scent, your kisses, the soft way you said, “I love you,” Tom was left to think, and he thought too much when it came to you.

The last time Tom had to think, he was small. The last time Tom had to think, Tom had light in his eyes. There was a gentleness to his touch, a sweetness to his voice, and he had a smile big enough to light up a stage.

He remembered how that felt. He remembered how hot it would get when he stood up on stage with the spotlight shining down on him. He remembered how the wood underneath him would bounce and creak as he jumped, he remembered the feel of the stage curtains when he would come in and out of the wings, he remembered the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him, the sounds of their cheers, the vibrations of their applause.

I remember when they would throw roses at my feet, when they would fill the seats to watch me dance. I remember when I would become someone else for a single night, when I would live a life I dreamed of living and have my story always end with praise, applause, adoration.

Tom’s hand found its way to the bottom drawer of his desk, opening it. He pushed aside the papers and files, finding the crumpled picture hidden under it all. He dug it out, looking at it carefully. It was a smiling picture of his younger self, his teeth still crooked and his hair nothing but a mop of messy curls. He was standing on stage with a group of people he can barely recognize now, wearing a costume and stage makeup, flowers at their feet as they posed for the camera. He ran his thumb over that young boy’s face, touching his smile to see if that would make it feel more real.

I feel nothing. I feel nothing but empty.

That boy had no idea what would come for him. That boy had no idea that in just a few years, he would take up a mantle he never wanted, pick up weapons he never thought he would need, and see more blood than he ever believed he could. That boy had no idea his smile would never be the same; he had no idea that that was the last time he would grace the stage, stand in the spotlight, live in his dream.

Tom didn’t even realize he was crying until a tear fell onto the picture, bleeding into its colors and distorting the paper. He put the picture face down onto his desk, furiously wiping the tears under his eyes, feeling a gaping hole in his chest as he thought about who he used to be and what he used to want.

I don’t know who that is anymore. I don’t know who that is because he can’t be me. He can never be me.

Tom bent over, his elbows on his knees as he covered his face with his hands. Nothing could save the boy he used to be. Tom had buried that boy so deep down inside of him that he wouldn’t even know how far he would have to reach to even feel his presence. Tom had buried his dream, his passion, everything he ever wanted to become whoever he was now.

A killer, a sinner, a man without mercy.

When men like Tom looked in the mirror, they did not see the boys they used to be. The boys they used to be were cut out of them like a tumor and left to bleed out. There was no place for boys in the new world Tom had entered. There was no place for fear or for innocence, and Tom had left him behind long ago. In the mirror, he only saw himself; blood, anger, and the shell of a man that was supposed to be him.

Tom sat up suddenly, hearing the floorboards creak. It was you, standing in the doorway, the shoulders of your leather jacket wet with rain. Your hair was a bit damp, and besides a little bruise forming on your jaw, you were untouched, unscathed, perfectly okay. You took your gloves off slowly, coming into his study and shutting the door behind you.

“Is everything okay, Tom?”

You noticed the redness around his eyes, the way his face was sunken in and tired and uneasy. You came towards him, your heels sounding, and that was when you spotted the paper in front of him on the desk. You reached over to grab it, and Tom didn’t stop you. You turned it over, your eyes scanning over the picture.

You spotted Tom, easily identifiable. He looked so little, the shortest one of the group, and you smiled a bit when you noticed where the picture was taken. You remembered one of his brothers teasing Tom about being a performer, something about a stage, but you didn’t understand what they meant.

“It’s you,” you said softly. “Where was this?”

“I used to…perform,” was he all he said.

Tom had a faraway look in his eyes. You recognized that look because you had it in yourself sometimes. Thoughts about what if, maybe if, should have, could have, would have. You thought everyone in this business must have thought about everything before and wished they could be that vulnerable human again.

Everyone wishes they could still see the light in their eyes.

You took your jacket off, slowly wrapping an arm around Tom’s shoulders and sitting in his lap. He leaned back in his leather seat, holding you closer, and you took his hand in yours, playing with the ring on his finger. You leaned your head on his shoulder, still staring at the picture.

“Is that what you wanted to be?” You asked gently.

Tom was silent for a few minutes. The rain was still falling, hitting the windows with a familiar rhythm, and it filled the silence between the two of you as Tom thought about the boy he had forgotten.

“I wanted to be an actor,” he said finally. You put the picture down, meeting his eyes in the dark light of the room. The sun had yet to come up, but it was in these hours of the mornings that you felt Tom the most.

“You would’ve been…” You let out a sigh, shaking your head, “Tom, you would’ve been…an incredible actor,” you said in a whisper.

He found your gaze when you said that, blinking, his eyes watering a bit. The genuine love in your voice, the hope, it was all he needed to feel that love swell in his chest again and consume him. He no longer hated that feeling, no, he welcomed it, and as you came closer to him to kiss him, he held onto you tightly, too scared to let go.

Because when we are together, I can remember what it feels like to have light inside of me.

So Tom held onto you.

And I will never let you go.

#this was a request for some notorious extras #some angst #some fluff #but just some more background about tom #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland series #mob!tom #notorious

[sonnetthebard]

Sypaul getting ice cream?

You know that SAF Horror Movie post that was supposed to be headcanons and I wrote it into a oneshot instead? Yeah, I'm back at it. Look, there's nothing I love more than those two wholesome gay werewolves. Genre: Fluff/ Romance Words: 2054 TL;DR: Paul and Sybilus go out to get ice cream? Is it a date? Not officially. Could it be? Very possibly. TW: There's literally none. It's all wholesome. It’s just a lot of gay panic.  ________________________________________________________

Paul sighed, walking down the streets aimlessly. He was back in Connor Creek, just for a visit. He liked to visit as often as he could- especially around the full moon. It made things a *lot* easier on him. Because even if he hadn't gone full werewolf yet, he did still experience a lot of the struggles that came around that time of month. It was good to be around other wolves- especially Desmond. And of course with the silver reserves, most of the less-than-ideal urges that came up that time of month were kept at bay. The full moon happened to be in two days, so... here he was again.

He wasn't quite sure where he was going. He was just walking, a bit bored. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he pivoted... so quickly that he fell flat on his ass. Smooth, Paul. Even worse: It was Sybilus. Sybilus, the one person he didn't want to see anything like him flat on his ass. Paul had developped feelings for Syb. He had always though Syb was cool, but... he'd started to catch himself daydreaming. He was good looking, sweet, smart, and... god, he had the coolest name! Paul hadn't meant to fall so hard, but... damn. Both men blushed at the situation they found themselves in. Paul felt bad, reacting like that. He was a bit jumpy... especially with the full moon so soon. Sybilus offered him a hand gently, and Paul took it, standing up.

"T-terribly sorry to have startled you." Sybilus blushed. "I, um..."

"Nah, my bad." Paul chuckled softly. "I'm just jumpy."

"I only meant to say hello... and ask you if you had any t-time- ah! P-p-plans?" Sybilus bit his lip nervously.

"Well... hello." Paul smirked. "And no I don't. Why?"

"I-I was thinking p-p-perhaps we could go into town." Sybilus proposed. "Not this town... the r-real city. M-m-maybe get something to eat?"

"Oh... I actually just had lunch at the Dead Canary." Paul told him. Shit. What was he doing? He actually wanted to go out with Syb.

"We could get ice cream, then. For d-dessert." Sybilus offered.

"Oh yeah! I would be so down for that!" Paul grinned.

"I only say we go into town b-b-because... I-I was going to suggest ice cream anyways. W-w-we don't have a-any real i-i-icecream places here." Sybilus sighed, walking with Paul. They now knew where they were going. To his car. "I-I would start one myself, but I'm rather busy with my other work."

"Maybe I should move here and start one." Paul thought aloud.

"Oh, Paul... y-you've got a very important job." Sybilus shook his head. "We need people like you t-t-to keep sharing the important news with the world."

"Oh yeah, but... I could podcast from up here. Drive into the city to record when I need to..." Paul theorized.

"Well... if you wanted, we could live together." Sybilus offered. "I-I mean you could live a-at my house. You're welcome."

"You know, I'm genuinely considering this." Paul chuckled, climbing into the car. "This could be fun. And it makes sense for me to be here, right? Why just... keep visiting for full moons?"

"You make a v-v-valid point..." Sybilus considered.

"Are you actually cool with me crashing with you?" Paul checked. "Because like... it makes sense, with the two of us being wolves."

"O-of course." Sybilus assured him, starting the car. "And you're right."

"Well that settles it. I'm moving to Connor Creek, running an ice cream shop, and working on my podcast from here." Paul decided.

"M-maybe you should think it over a little bit m-m-more." Sybilus chuckled, driving down the road.

"Yeah, you're right." Paul chuckled nervously.

There was silence in the car for a bit. Neither Paul nor Sybilus knew what to say. Paul had honestly just kept talking about the ice cream shop because he didn't know where to stop. It was awkward, but not tense. Overwhelmingly, if either one had been paying attention, they would have noticed the romantic tension. Both were very evidently interested in each other. But they weren't even able to look at each other with nerves. Paul tapped his fingers nervously. God, now he’d committed to *living* with Syb. He was so nervous that he couldn’t look at the guy but apparently he was going to live with him now. God, he was an idiot. Paul rested his head on his hand, looking out the window. 

“So... have you any idea w-what season three of Wayward G-guide is going to look like?” Sybilus asked. 

“No clue. Lesly hasn’t even told Artie and I that we get to do it yet.” Paul chuckled. “Who knows who it’ll go to.”

“Oh.” Sybilus frowned. “But you and Artemis did so well with it!”

“Yeah. Lesly’s weird like that.” Paul sighed. “Last I heard he’s looking for siamese twins. Who are also podcast hosts.”

“Have y-you considered podcasting independently?” Sybilus suggested. 

“I mean... kinda.” Paul shrugged. “But like... I don’t know. There’s something about Wayward Guide specifically that I just... I loved it.”

“Do you know what in specific that s-s-something might have been?” Sybilus tried to help. 

“I... not really.” Paul admitted

“Could it have been the s-story you were t-t-t-telling and not the actual podcast itself?” Sybilus pointed out. 

“You know... you could be right.” Paul realized. 

“Well... m-m-maybe you could do a podcast on the h-history or Connor Creek while you’re here. S-s-set up a little studio. My office is always rather quuiet, so you could use that.” Sybilus suggested. “M-maybe you could do a podcast on p-paranormal and s-s-supernatural histories throughout our country!”

“You know, that would be really cool.” Paul agreed. “I’ll talk to Artie about it. You know, since... we’re a pair.”

“Oh, of course!” Sybilus nodded. 

“Yeah...” Paul bit his lip. He looked to his feet. “Hey, Syb, can I ask you a kinda weird question?”

“Of course.” Sybilus assured him. 

“Is there anyone in Connor Creek who’s LGBTQ+ other than Donny?” Paul asked. Oh god. What was he doing? Where was he going with that question. How was he going to play that off? He got an idea. “I mean... just in case APN wants to use that kind of information to celebrate during Pride month.”

“Well... let’s see...” Sybilus thought aloud. “I believe that C-Crispin and Odie Doty were seeing each other before Odie’s unf-fortunate demise. Madison once brought a girlfriend to town council. They’d met at a ‘S-Small Town Law Enforcement Summit’. I always wondered what happened t-to that girlfirend- she was l-l-lovely. And, erm... I’m gay.”

“You are?” Paul started to beam. He caught himself too late, a blushing mess. Goddamnit he was giving himself away!

“Erm... yes.” Sybilus blushed. “I-I’ve never technically come out... no one really d-does in Connor Creek. You just sort of show up with a p-p-partner or two and everyone knows.”

“Huh.” Paul hummed. “I’m bi.”

“Oh.” Sybilus nodded. Paul nearly groaned at what he’d just said. He was real smooth, wasn’t he? Both drove in silence again for a moment. Sybilus pulled into a driveway. “We’re here! T-this is the ice cream shop.”

“So I can get the scoop on my competition.” Paul smirked. 

Internally, he was killing himself. Why was literally everything he was doing and saying to this man today the cringiest, most embarassing stuff in his playbook? Seriously. As far as impressions went... he was not making a good one, and he was sure of it. Well at least Sybilus was gay. He had half of a chance. Maybe if he could just calm the fuck down (or whatever it was he needed to do to stop acting like a total dumabss) he could talk Sybilus into getting dinner with him sometime... or maybe he would somehow manage to drive Syb away after he had made the first move. Paul froze. Oh god. Syb had made the first move.

“Are you okay?” Sybilus checked, already out of the car. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah!” Paul blushed, getting out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be s-sorry.” Sybilus chuckled. “I get lost in my head sometimes too.”

“Right...” Paul sighed, walking into the ice cream shop with him. Even though it was a hot day, it was just the two of them and the teenage girl behind the counter. Sybilus walked up to the counter ahead of him, knowing how things worked there. 

“H-hello... I was h-hoping- ah! liking- ah! I-I would like two d-double scoop waffle cones please.” Sybilus stammered out. 

“Sure thing.” The perky sales attendant smiled knowingly. “What are the flavours on those scoops?”

“Y-you go first.” Sybilus blushed, looking at his feet. 

“Um... I’ll take one scoop rocky road, one scoop chocolate chip cookie dough.” Paul told her. 

She got to work scooping that. And that’s when Paul found himself doing somethign far too quickly to stop himself: he patted Sybilus’ back to comfort him. He could see how distressed the werewolf was, and... he felt bad. He shouldn’t have to be ashamed of his impediment. Both men blushed, looking to the floor. The tension was high. Paul was frozen, unsure of whether to own his actions or... retreat as fast as was humanly possible. But... he decided to own it, going further and rubbing his friend’s back. Sybilus was blushing even harder. Oh god. Had that been too much. He thought so until... a small smile creeped onto the werewolf’s face. Paul smiled back softly. What in the actual hell was going on with those two?

“Alright, here you go hon.” The attendant smirked, passing an ice cream to Paul. She turned to Sybilus. “What about you, sweetie?”

“One b-birthday cake and one cotton candy.” Sybilus told her. She scooped those two fairly easily. 

“Those ones are always so soft.” She told him, still smiling brightly. She handed him the cone. “Here you go.”

“H-how much d-do I owe you?” Sybilus asked, reaching into his pocket. 

“Those are on the house guys. Happy Pride.” The ice cream scooper winked. 

Both Sybilus and Paul blushed, looking at each other. They seemed to be silently asking each other if they let the girl do that for them. Paul shrugged as if to say ‘why no?’, and they both looked back to her. Paul smiled softly. 

“Thank you.” He sighed, taking Sybilus’ hand and walking back outside the shop. There was a little table out there, and he sat them down at that. 

“Well...” Sybilus chuckled nervoulsy. 

“Yeah.” Paul blushed, chuckling with him. 

“I suppose it would be appropriate to wish you a happy pride...” Sybilus smiled shyly at Paul. “I-I... suppose we’d make a handsome couple- o-or at least she thought so.”

“I mean, she’s not wrong...” Paul shrugged, before freezing. Him and Sybilus just stared at each other for a second, and Paul immediately felt guilty. “I am so sorry if that made you uncomfortable, it just-”

“I agree.” Sybilus cut him off. Both just stared at each other, a look of mutual realization hit them. 

“So, um... maybe she wasn’t so wrong then.” Paul tested. “Thinking we were a couple...”

“M-maybe she wasn’t.” Sybilus sighed. There was a pause. 

“So... is this a date?” Paul checked. 

“I-if you would like it to be.” Sybilus bit his lip. 

“Yeah... I think that would be great.” Paul smiled softly. 

“I-I know of a walking trail nearby i-if you would like to go- ah! W-walk for a bit.” Sybilus offered. 

“I’d love that.” Paul beamed. 

And so the two men got up and started down the road, still eating their ice creams as they went along. Paul hesitantly reached out and grabbed Sybilus’ hand, squeezing it. Sybilus blushed, looking over and him ans smiling softly, squeezing back. Paul supposed now that he had a boyfriend he’d probably have to come out to Artemis... if she didn’t already know. He was like 99% sure she was a lesbian though, so he should be fine. Twinsense... he supposed it made them both gay. He was pretty sure that he couldn’t be any happier than he was in that moment. And he was pretty sure Syb felt the same way. It must be the pride month magic, bringing them together- or maybe it was always meant to be this way. Who knows? Paul was just excited for the journey.

#sypaul #wayward guide #tcb #tin can bros #wayward guide for the untrained eye #sybilus silver ii #paul schue horyn #gay #pride #oneshot #one shot #fanfic #fanfiction #tcb fanfic #send more requests!

[withoneheadlight]

hellooooo it’s nsfw anon here with even more thoughts !! Ok so I literally cannot get your post about steve making billy come just by kissing outta my damn mind so imma brain dump it on you Rn.

So like yeah, billy finds out that Steve can do /that/ but he doesn’t realise that it’s literally only the tip of the iceberg with Steve. Billy has slept around before and but he’s always been the one to take care of his partners so he’s just not used to the way steve takes care of him, how he talks to him sweet and dirty while his hands and mouth roam Billy’s body, teasing him until he’s literally out of his mind with it.

One morning he wakes up in Steve’s bed already hard and dripping from his already forgotten dream, but he’s rutting and whining softly into the sheets, Steve nowhere in sight but his side do the bed still warm. Billy still isn’t used to waking up feeling soft and content so he indulges himself, rolling his hips into the bed while he imagines Steve’s mouth on him again. They haven’t exactly gone at it for a while so he’s extra needy and comes quickly, panting and shaking. He’s still dazed when he feels the bed dipping when Steve crawls to lay over him, slotting his hard cock between Billy’s ass with a “that feel good baby? Yeah? You sounded so good whining my name out, sugar” and billy just- he hasn’t even recovered from his first orgasm nor is he fully awake but he already feels his dick twitching again, arching his back to stick his ass out more for steve. And Steve just can’t help himself. He hasn’t had time alone with billy for a while and he hasn’t had him this soft and dazed since they both found out he could make billy come just from his tongue so he spends the better part of the hour teasing billy. Kissing every inch of his body, biting at his nipples, sucking on his jaw and of course fucking his tongue in and out of Billy’s mouth, a favourite for them both. And that’s all before he starts eating billy out until he cries and finally, /finally/ when billy is wrecked with sobs and his eyes are big blue and teary, does Steve slip into him, whispering into his ear. “Yeah baby? That what you need? Just need somethin in you don’t you? Filling you up and stretching you out good. So good for me, Bill.” And billy can’t even think let alone respond. He has a mix of tears drool puddled under his cheek and he’s overwhelmed because what the /fuck/? Nobody’s every treated him like this. And Steve’s being so sweet, taking care of him and cooing at all his whimpers and whines, but the filth coming out of his mouth makes him feel dirty in the best way, makes him feel like a slut and maybe finally it clicks for him? This is the king Steve everyone was talking about. Yeah ok bye that’s all I have I worked myself up with that so I’m gonna drink some water before I pass out and let u do what u want with this bye bye luv u !!

Holy shit NSFW!ANON you live up to you name don't you? You killed me with this. Death by brain-bonner. So. Fucking. Hot. 

And also, Billy getting like this because the way Steve takes care of him it's the biggest turn-on of his life??? HELL YESS "Billy still isn’t used to waking up feeling soft and content so he indulges himself, rolling his hips into the bed while he imagines Steve’s mouth on him again" the hottest thing, I tell you, rutting + sleepiness + happiness + king steve + "eating billy out until he cries" there's something better??? no it's not! 

And ohhhhhh God. I bet it's Steve too who got him like that. Bet he does it sometimes, feeding filthy words into Billy's ear on those sweet moments between wakefulness and slumber, sneaking into the remnants of his dream like the wet dream he himself is, making Billy hard and leaking with the mere sound of his voice and the things  he says. Oh, the things he says.

Bet it isn't the first time Steve has make him cum just from that, wrapping his arms around billy afterwards, kissing him fully awake with lips that can't get fully rid of a suspicious, satisfied grin, Billy's cum still hot between their bodies "Mmmmph, why are you looking at me like that, Steven?" and Steve's laughter vibrating in both their mouths as he keeps on kissing him "'Cause I'm pretty sure you had a hell of a dream, babe. Pretty sure I was in there" and Billy getting suddenly aware of the sticky wetness covering their bellies and blushing all over because Steve is using his King Steve Voice and Billy not only came all over himself but he's also getting hard a g a i n and Steve was insufferably full of himself already but for the look on his face Billy can tell he has just make it even worse (again) but, you know what? He couldn't care less now because Steve makes him feel loved and happy and cherished so he can pay the small (–ish) price of bearing with his gigantic ego  xD xD xD.

(ok, that was probably too much? xD. IM SORRY. sometimes i just lose it nsfw!anon but i love so much the idea of billy having and 'easy trigger' even easier when it comes to our stevie boy here. and that combined with this idea of steve being very very good at making him cum and being the fucking  w o r s t about it sometimes but being so tender and so caring with billy at the same time, making him feel loved and safe simply ends me. ends me anon. and omg i'm thinking that, it gets sooooo bad, when billy finally finds out about the dream thing and steve won't stop being the cockiest bastard about making billy come with the sole power of his voice and in his dreams ("c'mon, hargrove. just admit it. i'm the hottest thing you can think of. i'm peak hottness on your mind") that one day billy makes this stupid comment to piss him off, calls him 'the cum whisperer' but like ironically, like "yeah, steven. you're so good, steven. you're a cum whisperer, steven. are you happy now?" rolling his eyes and all but, BUT—oh, steve IS happy. too happy. steve of course e m b r a c e s it, smug  and as he is, and now he calls himself 'the cum whisperer' and billy life is now a big 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️, but like VERY HAPPY 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️so not that bad. more like not bad at all. because he's— pretty much in love with his bratty, stupidly adorable king steve, he just refuses to give him the satisfaction to say it out loud (too much, anyway xD))

(aaand this is my cue to not answer things when i'm sleepy, i end up raving. xD. ignore me please)

 This was FANTASTIC nsfw!anon, and brightened my day in so many ways!! 🌟🌟🌟🌟🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥. I'll look forward for your asks if you want/feel in the mood/have the time to send them 💖💖💖 I love you and love seeing you around so much.

#harringrove #ns*w!anon💕 #my day was a bit shitty but I reread your ask so many times to cheer myself up! #so it was you now who helped me amazing you! #xask #xpronight #xaskwithoneheadlight

[chris-spacehere]

WAKE UP GIRL, QUACKITY FINALLY DROPPED LORE

AND IT WAS A W E S O M E.

So as your local quackity fan i’ll spill all the tea of why i loved this. (btw this all /rp)

- THE INTRO:

First, the countdown instead of the club pinguin ‘starting soon’ image was obviously for thrill emotions, but it stroke fear, the countdown felt like you were watching the final countdown till the end of the world, the music in the background? CHEF KISS, it felt so calm yet so alarming and it gave the hype to what was bound to happen.

- LAS NEVADAS.

We still don’t have a look at the nevadas but here, look at bbh and quackity conversation. It lets us know while quackity ain’t doin business, he has been messing with the eggpire, he did get in their ways, and it’s awesome to be able to infer it just by words, I JUST LOVE IT when we don’t see an action but we see someone mention it and that let’s us infer stuff or sometimes discover something at the same time than the characters.

Bbh actuation was so good, you could see he was doing a voice, an accent, he was doing it with passion too, and all this makes me more excited for the red banquet (aka: manberg festival 3: stranger things kinnies)

- G L A T T

The bit with schlatt was awesome and i think this is the first time quackity sees glatt, i also saw a big ass character growth in quackity. in first season, he responded to ‘flatty patty’ by sending a bad edited meme on twitter, season 3 and he just responds with a threatening face, yelling and standing up for himself. CHARACTER GROWTH BABY.

- businnes with sam

This part man, THIS PART

The actuation was sooo good, Sam popped off here, big q popped off the whole stream, and like, when he kept bringing up how sam let tommy die, bringing up the security issue, and MAN, when sam said ‘i did my job, my job is keep dream in there, not keep the visitors alive’ IT WAS AWESOME BECAUSE YOU COULD SEE HE WAS SAYING THAT IN A WAY HE IS STILL GULTY ABOUT TOMMY’S DEATH BUT HE WANTS TO DENY IT.

- Did he win the bet?

He probably lost the bet, as soon as they make the bet, we cut to big q asking for the book, which was the prize is schlatt won and again THEY LEAVE US TO INFERENCE WHAT HAPPENED AND I LOVE IT. He seems too dedicated to getting the knowledge of the book but on the other hand, he wants dream to suffer (which is valid as fuck, dream deserves  P A  I N)  for all he has done, he was actually the first one to realize dream was the roots of all problems! he knew this since before season 2 finale, he is a smart-ass and you will all respect him.

Plus imagine the aftermath of he getting the book, he would become one of the most powerful people actually, (next to foolish who could just grab his children and revive people but he is too busy finding the hole on the roof) the bets dude THE BETS. ‘if you win, i bring him back, if you loose, you give me all your stuff, deal?’ IMAGINE THAT, PHIL WOULD JUST FUCKING GO BROKE TRYING TO REVIVE WIL. 

- Final act.

He is shown coming back, out of prision and looking at the el rapids sign, plus i love the way he edited all those flashbacks to happier days and then cut to showing us his skin, filled with blood AND AGAIN, THE INFERENCING GAME FUCK YEAAAAAH I LOVE WHEN HE DOES THAT. and the way he cuts off his friends faces first and then the fiances, only leaving him, as he destroys el rapids? CHILLS, LITERAL CHILLS, the old quackity is gone, he has finally been blinded by power and rage, he has finally gone mad and then he goes back and RIPS OFF HIMSELF to proof the old quackity is finally gone and holly shiit the next part, WHEN HE GRABS IT LIKE A PAPER AND RIPS IT OFF, then the calendar, THAT SHIT SCARED ME ‘visit dream, visit dream, visit dream’ it was just visit dream and torture him AND HE BETTER DO THAT BECAUSE THAT GREEN BITCH DESERVES FATE WORSE THAN DEATH. and then he puts the tiny shit of billars or however they are named, THIS FEELS LIKE A MARVEL MOVIE POST-CREDIT SCENE, IT WAS SO GREATLY DONE AND I LOVED IT TO THE FUCKING TOP.

- Aftermath

There will obviously be an aftermath to his actions as with events like the red banquet, and the inevitable return of wilbur and escape from dream, like that mf gonna snap quackity as soon as he sees him, plus i’ve seen awesome theories relating quackity with the in-between, there will obviously be a connection with the fiances and karl and all the time travel stuff sometime, the casino, glatt etc. this man will get fucked sometime.

Also quick note: techno and dream are the most powerful people of the server and the only times they have been in genuine fer was because of this man, so yall better take him seriously because he has made gods plead for mercy. (not foolish tho, again, my man is busy finding the hole on the roof, he has got no time to do godly stuff)

uHHhH thx for reading, reblogs r apreciated, just sayiiin.

#dream smp #dsmp #dreamsmp #quackity #mcyt #big q #dream smp quackity #dsmp quackity #pog trough the pain #just killed an old man with heart problems

[volleyball-dontknowher]

NSFW Alphabet w/ Tsukishima Kei

A?N: He might be a little ooc in some of them but I just feel like Tsukki is truly a loving guy who will treat you like the world and actually has a heart in there also I have a request for HC’s with Noya that is either coming out today or tomorrow and I am open to more requests

It is all below the cut 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He loves you so much when he is done fucking you senseless he is all about aftercare. He will pull you close to him and kiss the top of your head, then your forehead then give you the most loving kiss ever. This is the side of Tsukishima that you rarely get to see. He gets you a cup of water and gives you one of his shirts so that you don’t have to move. Will tell you all of the things he loves about you and will always pull you to his chest and just appreciate you. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yours:He is all about your boobs, totally doesn’t seem like it but he’s a giant and every time he looks down at you he can’t help but look at your boobs. He wishes he didn’t have to look every single time he looked at you, but he does. In the bedroom he loves sucking on, kissing and kneading your boobs in his hands. 

His: He loves his hands, he loves how they can please you and have you squirming in minutes, he loves how big they are compared to yours and how he pretty much covers your whole hand in his, he loves that he can practically cup your whole face in his hands before he kisses you. Like if he didn’t have hands he wouldn’t know what to do. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He asks before you start where you want him to cum because he doesn’t like ruining the moment to ask. He loves coming inside of you because it is the least messy and shows a level of trust that is really important to him. He doesn’t like making a big mess so otherwise he is going to pull out and cum right onto your stomach, has a huge problem with cumming on your face, he cannot make himself ruin your beauty with his disgusting cum, it just turns him off. Loses it if you take him in your mouth and swallow it though like to him that’s so hot. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Adores it when you give him hickeys, it doesn’t matter if others can see them or not he likes feeling claimed and knowing that you are his and he is yours and no one can come between that. If you leave a hickey it definitely makes him a lot more riled up and he wants to go again sooner. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s not amazing at first but he definitely is a fast learner, watches, listens and feels what makes you feel the best. He wants you to enjoy yourself so much so even though he starts off very inexperienced he wants to be the best and your only so he may or may not also watch some porn to get an idea of what girls like. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mr. Tsukishima loves seeing your face and having your legs over his shoulders as he pounds into you but he cannot deny that his favorite position is taking you from the back. He just loves how it feels and how he can pull your hair if he wants or pull you up to rest against his chest. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If Tsuki is ever goofy during sex the world is ending. He is a serious guy and he likes to focus on what he’s doing and make sure that he is doing a good job and you are enjoying yourself. He barely speaks let alone making a joke, it would ruin his mood almost instantly because this is a moment between the two of you and he doesn’t want it ruined. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Blonde and well kept, he has to look good to feel good. Doesn’t want a mess of hair, he likes to keep it at about half an inch and tame. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is the most romantic before and after, in the moment he is very focused and just wants to please you, he will kiss you and give you little praises but he is the most romantic before, when he is kissing your whole body and running his hands up and down your body, and after, where he tells you how much you mean to him and takes care of you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If he is away from you he is jacking off, everyday, he can’t help himself, his mind wanders to you all the time. He wonders where you are, what you're doing, and what you’re wearing (usually imagines you in something almost inappropriate and it turns him on so much). He typically does it in the shower because it is really easy clean up and he loves the water running down his back. He also will do it in his bedroom if no one is home because he wouldn’t be caught dead beating his meat, but when he does his eyes squeeze shut and his whole body shakes as he gets close. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He is a kinky mf let me tell you. He likes blindfolds, handcuffs, or anything that restrains him and gives him full control. A total dom who occasionally likes for you to call him daddy. Will absolutely try lots of positions and loves to edge you so that you are screaming his name. Also into punishing you if you’re bad, take that how you may. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes private places, will not put either of you in a position where you could get caught because he would never recover from it. Likes doing it in the bedroom or in the shower the most. Though he cannot say no to a blowjob in an empty storage closet. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally anything you do, smirk at him, boner, wink at him, boner, wear a cute outfit, boner. You are so sexy to him that even the littlest things make him want to jump you. If you want to really get him going though you need to kiss behind his ear and whisper dirty things into his ear and then back off and pretend that you didn’t say or do anything. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would not share you, you are his and his alone. He also wouldn’t do anything with blood, knives, or candle wax because that’s way too uncomfy for him. No food in the bedroom, eating makes him feel sick and doing it before having sex just ruins things for him no matter how sexy it seems 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves both equally and tries to give as much as he receives. When he receives he is the loudest you will ever hear him because it just hits every single nerve in his body the right way. Someday’s that’s all he wants is for you to be on your knees and for him to thrust into your mouth taking full control. 

Now giving is a different story, he’s super confident from the start and will grab your legs and hold you up to his face. Will lick and suck on all of you until you are screaming his name and pulling his hair. He has a lot of skill with his tongue and he is not afraid to use it, he has you cumming so fast and he will lick it all clean. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the day, he will take it slow if it is an important anniversary or he is feeling cuddly (or being a massive tease), but otherwise he will pound into you like there is no tomorrow. You both like it hard and fast so he might as well go crazy with it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Lives for quickies in the morning, he loves them so much because he then starts his day off less stressed and more relaxed. He will take quickies if it is all he has time for during the day but if he has the time to do it all he will, every single time. He also sometimes initiates quickies for an ego boost before a match because he just cannot get enough of you screaming his name from him fucking you then screaming his name in the stands. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He isn’t a huge fan of risk, again, would not be caught dead having sex with you. Not only is it embarrassing just in the act but he doesn’t want anyone else to see you naked. He occasionally will go for it in a storage closet or an empty locker room but he is super calculated with it and makes sure that you are comfortable. Now in your bedroom he will try most everything, he tried roleplay once and couldn’t get into it, you also tried having him blind folded and he was completely down. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He is an athlete, he’s in it for the long haul. He can go typically two rounds, on good days 3-4 and on rough days he likes it to be one and done. The first round usually lasts about fifteen minutes and after that he usually lasts about ten minutes if you give him a few minutes to breathe between. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Cannot and will not use toys on himself but will definitely use them on you to tease you and to get you all bothered. Loves to watch you use toys on yourself, it just strikes something within him that he loves, it’s a mix of holy shit she’s so hot and oh my god why isn’t that me and my dick and after he fucks you the best he has in  a long time 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you thought that Tsuki was ever a person to tease in day to day activities he is definitely going to be worse in the bedroom. Will tease you until you are literally begging for more, he can’t help himself it gives him an ego boost and he can’t help it you just look so fucking hot when you are begging for his cock and for him. He literally watches you with his usual blank expression but he is literally engraining it in his mind for forever. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not loud, but definitely a groaner, long and deep groans and moans come from him once he gets into it. He really tries to keep quiet because he doesn’t want to embarrass himself even though he tries to make you as loud as possible. When he gets close he mutters out a string of curse words and your name over and over and cannot help himself. Is definitely loud when you blow him though, can’t help it he's a moaning mess like you are just turning him on in every single way possible and he can’t make himself care enough to keep quiet. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He absolutely wants you to ride him, like get on top of him and take control occasionally. Loves the idea of not having to not worry about it and just enjoy himself, whenever he masturbates he thinks about you bouncing on top of him but is not comfortable telling you this fantasy. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s a big guy with a big guy. Definitely gets his smirky attitude from somewhere and that somewhere is down there. Longer than average (probably like a 7.5) and a little thicker than average, just in general his height is above average. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He gets horny all the time, who can blame him on that but he really only needs to go once maybe twice a week because he likes to make sure that he can do it right and that you both are left breathless. If you’re ever in the mood he literally cannot say no, he teases you like there’s no tomorrow and makes you blush a lot first but like you just make him feel all sorts of ways and he has to please his girl 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If it is after a full day of practice and everything he is asleep right after he’s taken care of you and gotten you what you need. He already was exhausted from a long day and this just wiped him out. If it wasn’t as long of a day he likes to make sure you fall asleep first and will stroke your hair and just watch you in awe that he has someone this amazing. 

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