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#sounds stupid but at this point without them there would really be no point in being here
arieslost · 2 days
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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with
anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔
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1:30 am | ln4
you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.
“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”
“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.
something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.
now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.
which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.
“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.
“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.
“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”
“yeah, if you want me to.”
“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.
you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”
“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”
“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.
“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”
he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”
“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”
“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.
“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.
“stop laughing then!”
“you stop!”
naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.
“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.
“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”
“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.
a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.
“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”
“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.
“ooh, lemme feel.”
“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”
“not my fault you’re weird and british.”
“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”
“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”
he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”
you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”
you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.
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word count: 790
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note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…
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reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
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mixelation · 2 days
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oh here's some toxicity (reborn au au). it's torito u_u
In another world, the assurance that Itachi would never leave her behind would be enough for Tori. She would find it comforting. She would move on. 
In this world, she really didn’t see why violent revenge couldn’t be her solution. 
“If you’re so mad about it,” Obito drawled at her, “just kill him yourself.”
Obito had thrown himself lazily over the armchair in the corner of her room, right on top of a pair of pants and a sweater she’d worn once and wanted to wear again before she washed them. The chair didn’t match anything else in the room, but it was comfortable. Obito had put it there himself, rescued from an Uchiha elder’s house after they’d died. 
(Of natural causes, he’d assured her.)
He was the primary person who ever sat in it, besides Tori’s laundry. He did it with the lazy decadence of a king in his throne. 
Tori, cross-legged on her bed, pouted back at him. The point wasn’t really that someone killed that guy. It was the intense loyalty the act would mean for her. Had Obito and Minato not both slaughtered absurd numbers of people in an act of love? She wanted that. She wanted someone who liked her like that. 
Would it be bad to break up with her fake-boyfriend if he wouldn’t real-murder for her…?
She had no idea how to explain all this to Obito without sounding completely unhinged. Instead she said, “I’d kill someone for Itachi.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Obito countered immediately. 
“I killed Danzo for him,” Tori said. 
“No,” Obito said, rolling his ankle in the air. He twirled a finger at her. “You convinced Danzo to do something stupid that got him killed because you get off on leading people to their doom.”
Tori pouted some more. 
“I’m glad sensei backed you up,” Obito said eventually, carefully not looking directly at her. His legs were over one arm of the chair, and he rolled an ankle in a loose circle. “You’re okay, right? Besides your unquenchable thirst for vengeance?” 
A sly smile cracked over Tori’s lips. He had shown up the second she was finally in her own home. 
“Aaaw,” she cooed. “Were you worried about me?”
Obito rolled his eyes and finally looked at her. “I just think if you get any more traumatized, you might actually figure out how to destroy the world. It’s the natural escalation of things.”
“You would know,” Tori replied. She unfolded her legs and scooted forward to sit on the edge of the bed closest to him. “Hey, Itachi spent the night the first night.”
Obito frowned at her. “What, you need a babysitter?”
“You could sit outside on the balcony like a gargoyle,” Tori replied. “Bark at passers by. You know.”
“Oooh,” Obito replied, dipping his head back as he leaned into the joke. “Oh, yeah, I could guard the whole apartment. My poor partner was traumatized, after all. I’ll keep anyone from coming in and bothering you. I’ll set up traps and chase your neighbors off. Maybe put up a blockade in the road.”
“Deidara will love this,” Tori said. 
“Deidara is one of the people I’m chasing away,” Obito replied smartly. 
They joked. They talked about silly, unimportant things. Tori watched Obito intently as they chatted. She liked seeing him like this, she thought. Obito was fun when he was relaxed and just fucking around. 
He looked good too, she decided. She missed the mask, but Obito definitely had a nice face. He had the pretty Uchiha cheekbones and a strong jaw, and the messy dark hair worked on him. Plus, he was tall and broad-shouldered and well-muscled and… hmm. 
Hmm. 
Obito started absentmindedly doing little kicks with his feet like a school girl while he groused about how much of the block he could get Deidara to blow up, just by being annoying. 
Tori decided to change her strategy. 
xXx
“I decided I want to break up,” Tori told Itachi. 
“Oh,” Itachi said, frowning down at her. “Why? I’m amenable to making changes.”
Tori shook her head. 
“I don’t mind helping you, or hanging out with you on dates,” she said. “But I realized this arrangement means I can’t pursue my own romantic interests.”
“Ah,” Itachi said. “I didn’t realize you had those.”
Neither did I, Tori thought. 
She nodded and waited to see if Itachi would say more. Maybe he would offer to murder or beat up the person she was interested in. That might make her stay. 
“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Itachi said after a beat. “Thank you for helping me. Would you mind if I said I was too heartbroken to date for a while?”
“Um,” Tori replied. “Maybe we should say we decided we’d be better as friends so we don’t mess that up, and you can say you want time to think about what you want out of a dating partner.” 
Itachi nodded thoughtfully and continued to not offer to kill for her. 
Oh well. She tried. 
xXx
When Obito jimmied open her window, Tori looked up from her desk like she’d been expecting him. Which, she probably was. Obito loved gossip. 
He flopped directly from the window sill into his chair and steepled his fingers. 
“So,” he said. He leered at her, lips pulling back from his teeth. “Did you break Itachi’s heart? Did he break yours? Tell me everything.”
Tori rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from her desk. Instead of the usual sweatpants she preferred when just sitting around her room, she was wearing one of her little sundresses. She brushed her hair over her shoulder as she eyed him. 
“I decided I might want to pursue my own interests,” she said bluntly. 
Obito raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Found some other sucker to sic on your enemies? Teenaged romances are so dramatic nowadays.”
Tori stood.
“I think that’s part of the problem,” she said. “I’m not really a teenager, am I?”
She ran her hands through the signs for a henge, and then a twenty year old Tori was standing in front of him. It was a better aging up than most teens could manage– Tori, after all, had once been physically an adult. She knew the subtleties of her own face and how her body would change with age. 
“Interesting strategy,” Obito said, unsure where this was going. Was she planning to use a henge to seduce someone older? Was Itachi about to lose to some two-bit chump who liked women in short skirts just because they’d agree to murder some other two-bit chump for Tori? That would be hilarious. 
Tori took a step towards him, and then another. She got close enough that the hem of her skirt brushed against his knee, and Obito suddenly realized that Tori’s skirt was quite short, wasn’t it?
“I decided I wanted to pursue more… adult interests,” Tori said, and then suddenly she was in his lap. 
“Wait,” Obito said, voice cracking. “Tori, what are you doing?”
Her hand went over his chin, her thumb and fingers squeezing his cheeks. Obito found this did alarming things to his insides. 
“Have I told you how much prettier your face is than it should be?” Tori said. Her thumb moved up and down his right cheek. “How about you let me mess it up again, and I’ll help you put your eye in Kakashi’s head?”
“What?” Obito full-on squeaked. 
He could overpower her and push her off. He didn’t. He felt frozen, transfixed by her eyes, dark and heavy as she looked at him. 
His heart pounded away in his chest. This was ridiculous, though. This was just Tori. She was probably angling to trick him into letting her store lab supplies in kamui or something. 
Then why the henge? He thought. Tori wasn’t above flirting to get what she wanted, but it was rarely her first choice strategy. He had no idea why it would be her strategy with him. 
The henge is the problem, he decided, hands sweaty. Sixteen year old Tori wasn’t hot. She just wasn’t; she was a teenager. He didn’t… he didn’t remember ever thinking adult Tori was all that hot either, but she’d never crawled into his lap. Maybe it was just the nostalgia this was calling up for him. Or maybe any pretty woman could get this reaction out of him. 
Pretty? No, fuck– well. Either way. He could just get rid of the henge. 
“No, stop that,” Tori said when he activated his sharingan. Her hand immediately went over his eyes. This did even more alarming things to his insides. 
“Oh, because the sharingan is so easily stopped,” Obito heard himself drawl back at her. 
His hands were gripping the arms of his chair instead of stopping her. This was bad. Many abilities of the sharingan could not be stopped simply by covering it, but covering it sure did stop him from seeing unsexy, henge-free Tori. 
He felt her shift, leaning forward. Her hair tickled his cheek and he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. When she spoke, he felt her breath on his lips. 
“Then stop me, if you want to,” she said. 
Obito gripped the chair harder. Tori shifted again, her hand staying over his eyes. She pressed her lips against his. 
I am going to stop this, Obito thought, and then instead kissed her back. 
Obito had only ever kissed Rin before, which had been weird and also terrible. This was also weird and terrible, but in a way where he didn’t want it to stop. Tori was familiar. She knew about the absolute darkest parts of him, and he wasn’t entirely convinced she wouldn’t murder him if given the chance. But she did know him, from his favorite bad jokes to his stint as a super villain. 
She broke the kiss first. 
“Are you going to be a good boy now?” she asked. 
It was embarrassing that he found her wording hot. 
“For you? Always,” he replied. 
She removed her hand from his eyes. He deactivated the sharingan, studying her face. He set his hands and her hips and then trailed them up her waist, and he watched as she bit her bottom lip in response. He liked that. 
There was no way she was doing this if she didn’t want something. Unfortunately, her method had worked in that he did now very much want to give it to her. But what would Tori want…?
“So you want that guy killed?” Obito asked. 
Tori’s eyes lit up. It was… extremely cute. Fuck.
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ganondoodle · 11 hours
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Not to add more fuel to the fire (I do) but seeing all your TotK rants and agreeing with every single part of them, I just remembered that as soon as the first Sages appeared on screen I immediately noticed that even their voice actors were the same as the Champions from BoTW but a bit "deeper" sounding and when I looked up they ARE.
I don't mind when voice actors make a come back for specific roles tbh but this time with how disappointed I was starting to feel about the game's story it felt super odd?? Like it did feel so much like they were reusing stuff ;;
honestly if anyone wants to rant about totk in my inbox feel free to do so, i might not always respond but its really good to hear others be similarly disappointed and maybe you are even pointing out something i havent thought about
(also its fine to not agree with everythign i say, just dont be a dick about xD)
you see ... now that you say that i remember seeing the leaks before the game came out that some of the voice actors from botw said they returned for totk and that was a topic of discussion .... which went nowhere also bc i guess they were too lazy (sorry, that word is way overused when people talk about games but ... well) to find anyone new for the few lines they say
that said it doesnt exactly help the case of ancient ancestor (that looks exactly the same as the modern people!! i cant stand that!! its my character design taste that is more annoyed than the lore nerd but its stilll ... they didnt do that either to differentiate the past thats OVER TEN THOUSAND years ago aaaaaaargh) that all say the same line only with a few words changed around or rephrased like someone badly copying your homework but trying to hide it- without telling you any new information at all that all have no personality, not even a different clothing style (its aaalllll sonau style now woooheeee) and dont even get to have faces bc they are hidden under a SONAU MASK AT ALL TIMES even when NOT FIGHTING (why are they even in their temples after rauru seals ganondorf ... no seriosuly what are they doing there, just standing around waiting for zelda to come beg them to swear yet another oath to some guy in the far future, theres no one in the bg either like idk, they could have been praying or sth- wait .... why are they still wearing the stupid mask and outfit .... raurus gone and minerus getting eaten by miasma i dont think anyone would care (i know its bc they dont want to make another model ... though removing the helmet at the very least ... no?) and then dont even get their own voice ... lol
(i didnt notice bc i played with japanese voices bc the german voice actor for gan sounded like german daruk and that was too weird for me ... i still expected him to say more than a few lines and some yells at that point .. hah ... )
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Based on this post and another one (that I cant find for the life of me but I'm sure exists!!) about Sonic also doing graffiti because he vibes with it as a form of self expression, Aka Sonic and Nine banter fluff with a grain of plot somewhere in between
[2,358 words]
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"Still find it so pleasantly surprising it was so easy to convince you." Sonic said after he vaulted over the railing while keeping his hold on it with one hand, his words now slightly muffled through his respirator.
"Says you! I didn't know you were up for vandalism."
"It's not vandalism, It's art." The hedgehog replied in a sassy tone, accentuating the 't' at the end and then shaking his spray can. "Without it, all this would be just a sad gray slab of concrete."
"Tch, sure."
Nine scoffed but the smile in his tone was evident while he rummaged through the bag of sprays and paints and finally settling on a few eye-bleeding colors on the yellow-blue spectrum he wanted to use.
"That one's almost empty." The hedgehog pointed towards the turquoise can that Nine flipped in his hand. He deadpanned as he must've felt it was unusually light.
"No wayyy, I couldn't tell."
"And wear the mask."
"My lungs are destroyed already, what's a few more whiffs of spray paint. No need to pester me."
Oh, Sonic will have exactly none of that backtalk, nor will he rely on the fox's habit of saying no but doing what he was told anyway, because this is not putting away the salt after a lunch, but genuine health concern.
"Nine." he added just a bit more insistence into his tone.
The mentioned fox was now staring at him unimpressed through the railing, a silent challenge as neither of them dared to blink for a good minute.
Nine eventually gave in when his eyes started to dry out and sighed, pulling out the respirator from his pocket and tying it behind his head.
"Thank you." Sonic finally shook the spray can and gave a couple short splashes of it into the open air before putting down the first lines of his soon-to-be masterpiece.
"Didn't do it for you."
"Ah but didn't you "don't" need to wear it?" Detecting the immediate loophole in the other's baseless complaints Sonic continued to focus on his outline, not lifting his head to look at the fox.
Whatever he grumbled under his nose was inconsequential as both of them finally let the conversation drop and Nine then flung himself over the railing as well.
Albeit Nine had just a bit more advantage than one poor hedgehog hanging on with one hand that will surely fall asleep sooner or later, since he could not only fly, but use his mechanical tails to hold onto the road overpass in case he got tired of that.
For a while the only sounds accompanying them were that of late night traffic and spray painting.
Sonic just couldn't let it go though, it wasn't fair,
"Heh, cheater."
His arm was still doing strong but what was a little salty banter, he was itchinf for a conversation.
"Nah, I just didn't pick a spot where I'm at a risk of falling into a highway."
A fair point, he probably should've done more pre-planning just this once, but come on, how often do you see exquisite graffiti made on the _middle_ of a road overpass? He has to have the bragging rights to it!
"Not like you can just fly."
"Eh, it's more of a hindrance really." The fox waved him off and grabbed onto the concrete base of the road, then anchoring himself onto it with his mechanical tails "Can't get the lines straight."
"Bet those don't get tired either." Sonic's point still stands.
"Done complaining?"
Nine looked at him with seemingly all of the annoyance and indifference he could with just half his face. And Sonic couldn't help but snicker.
"Hey I'm just poking fun! No need to take it so personally!"
Nine sat, stood? something in between, in silence for a second. A silence Sonic recognized as a very bad, not good kind of silence. As in, he's contemplating to either do something stupid he knows he shouldn't do, dangerous, or a mix of both.
And thank Gaia for his light speed reflexes, when he barely managed to dodge a green splotch of paint landing on his shoe.
"Oh it's on."
Sonic reached as far as he could and even if he gave a warning, Nine didn't get to dodge the attacking mist of turquoise that landed on the side of his shorts and an edge of his mechanical tail.
"He-hey! This won't get washed off!" Nine cried, but didn't let the new design bother him for long as Sonic saw a malicious glimmer in his eyes.
Nine reached towards his left-hand glove which Sonic almost moved out of the way, if he didn't remember that was the only difference between him being here or careening bellow onto a highway. Not that he couldn't get back up here in a second but instinct still betrayed him as the glove was no longer white.
"You're lucky you don't wear more clothes." The grin in Nine's voice was heard as he threw the can away "and that it's almost empty."
"What can I say, luck is always in my cards."
Drat, he should really restock his supplies. Ah but when he always forgets and remembers already when it's too late.
He looked at his new paint job and figured it wasn't that bad, good gloves are much easier to come by and buy in bulk than shoes that could withstand his daily running. Not that he would mind a change in color per se, but green just wasn't his.
On his clothes he means, well- ah whatever, he should focus on the task at hand.
Only after getting a last metaphorical word in by sending a tiny cloud of paint Nine's way, who promptly hissed at him.
Speaking of hands though, it was slowly beginning to fall asleep, but he chose to persist, this is gotta be a quick one then.
As he planned to turn his full attention to his own piece of art however, his eyes were dragged by what Nine was painting.
"Woa you can do it lineless?"
"Yea, pretty cool right." The smugness radiated off of him as he leaned back to either admire it or show it off better "Doesn't help that I might have to line it anyway cuz so far it looks like shit."
"Hey don't say that, trust the process!"
"If the process makes it look like a jumbled paint stain what is there to trust."
"Well for one, someone will find it pretty, beautiful even. And second!" Nine raised his spray can, as if to threaten Sonic with a mouthful of neon green spray if he continued. Sonic was not deterred in the slightest though, "It's by a road. No one will have the time or chance to look for every minor mistake you see up close."
And Nine promptly lowered his hand at that and sighed, resuming his work.
"I hate how you make sense."
Nine sighed, almost fondly? Though Sonic ignored that in favor of observing his style, which for some reason rang familiar.
"Hm, were any of the graffiti in New Yoke made by you?"
"Just one."
One question satisfied, yet another popped up, but he could finally turn away and catch up in progress to where Nine was at. Quickly setting down the outline for the idea sitting in his head for weeks.
"And it stayed unfinished because I almost got busted by eggforcers. Didn't have the courage to return to it since."
"Maybe we could someday go back there and finish it." He gave a quick look towards the fox and while he can't say he expected a positive reaction, the other almost recoiled even at the mere mention of going back to New Yoke.
"The city is bound to have changed since the council was dethroned and left to float endlessly in the void I'm sure!" Sonic tried his best to make the proposal sound more appealing despite that. Mostly cuz he wasn't too much against the idea himself, if anything he'd love to go back to check on everyone.
Chaos he missed them all so much actually, there surely has to be a way to get in and out of the Shatterverse. And he knows someone in particular to pick their brains about this.
"Doubt the people have."
"Who knows, maybe they're in a better mood now that they get to see the sun every once in a while. It sure worked on you."
Nine glared at the graffiti before him as if it just called him the most offensive insult, but really sonic found out that was his defensive thinking face.
"Still a no."
"Sure thing bud, won't pressure you. Although..." Sonic started, unsure of just how much more he can push this before it gets too uncomfortable. "I wouldn't be against going there myself."
"Doubt Shadow will let you near the Prism or that you'd want a repeat of the first adventure"
That was, a surprisingly calm and straightforward answer, huh. "Yea but I mean it like, there's gotta be a different way right? Since you're here and all."
Yea he was definitely pushing it, Nine turned away from him and fully concentrating on his artwork in favor of answering.
And the subject dropped after a while of tense silence. It mellowed out back into the more plesant one they had at the beginning, with Sonic continuously reminding himself he can't rush it too much or it will end up looking not up to his standard.
Somewhere along the way he exchanged hands as his left one was threatening to fall asleep and he really didn't want to deal with the aftermath of that. But he could do with a few wonky lines instead, so it was a fair trade-off.
They both stayed without a word, up until Sonic felt confident enough to sign his signature and Nine's voice suddenly perked up
"Nicky?" He questioned while it turned out he was actually observing him for a while.
"Gotta have a pseudonym, my name on itself is pretty famous as is." Sonic could finally release the strain on his arm and leg as he hopped up and sat down on the railing. Then finally put down his respirator and took in a deep breath.
"Sounds weirdly adorable for a street artist."
"Oh come on what's yours then?" Sonic asked with more of a genuine curiosity. 'Nine' was already a pretty cool name in his humble ever-correct opinion, and he could imagine the fox coming up with a myriad of cool variations of it.
But Nine's ears only pinned back slightly.
"I don't really have one." He admitted and Sonic could swear he sounded embarrassed.
"I, well most of what I draw is just for myself," he started slowly, "I never needed a complicated signature or a pseudonym since no one besides me would see it anyway."
"Hehe, understandable" Sonic couldn't help but find that both charming and sad, in a way. A fond memory of Tails trying and in his words failing to draw him a picture or two years back resurfaced. The little kit suppressing tears because he could "never get the lines just right" and later lighting up like a candle when Sonic complimented it up and down, because may the lines not be perfect, it was draw for him, and no amount of technical mistakes Tails decided to point out didn't stop his heart from doing backflips.
"Wouldn't mind seeing some of your hidden masterpieces if that's the case."
Aaand Nine froze again, sucking in a deep breath.
"They're all... in New Yoke. Or the Grim. But since both of my labs were destroyed due to one reason or another I don't think most of it survived." The fox resumed his work, and when Sonic leaned over he could see him most likely adding the finishing touches to what was most definitely a self-portrait with a few artistic liberties. Either Sonic was reminiscing for way longer than he registered or Nine managed to speedrun it.
"Oh well," the hedgehog took a second to mince his words as he properly leaned back a bit, a couple of cars breezed past him as he contemplated whether to try again or leave it be. "I mean, there would be no harm in taking a quick look. I-if not then you could always just make more stuff here! It's just, a shame I think?" He regretted his choice halfway once he heard the fox sigh.
"We both know you wouldn't just go and dip, Sonic." Nine threw the white spray over him into the bag and sat back into his mechanical tails, finally putting down his mask.
"But there's also no convincing you otherwise. So fine." He crossed his arms "But we're dragging Tails along."
Sonic's heart swiveled at that. He kicked up his legs and flipped back off the railing.
"That was the plan!"
And he couldn't help the grin that made its way across his face as he outstretched a hand towards Nine to take it.
The fox only pulled out his phone from the pocket of his pants and let go of the concrete wall, suspending himself in there further away.
"Don't you want a photo?"
"Ohoho, you betcha!" Sonic almost feared he would have to let his hand fall in shame, but he gripped the metal in front of him with excitement instead.
"Do you want my shoes on there or not?"
"Sure, if you want to incriminate yourself."
With a smirk that slowly turned to a genuine smile, Nine took at least five separate pictures.
Afterward, they packed the bags and slowly took off back to the nearby field with a not-so-subtly parked biplane.
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hella1975 · 9 months
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just full force threw a shoe at my sister's face and when my mum got me alone after she was like 'you shouldn't clobber her. but i get it' 😭
#it kicked off today but in my defence she's actually proper in the wrong this time even my DAD called her a bitch and my mum is FUMING#baso my sister came into my work with her mate when i was closing the other day and all the staff GLARED at them bc of aforementioned#close so i was being v chill so everyone 1) knew it was my sister and not some customer coming in late and 2) her friend wouldnt be uncomfy#like that's the real kicker her i was being extra laid back FOR her friend so he'd feel more at ease. and one thing about me is yes ive#said countless times i have a rural accent but my mum also raised me to know when and how to speak nice if need be bc people are cunts here#so when im waitressing i speak nicely bc it's a stuck up restaurant w stuck up customers but when im with my sister? making a point of#being laid back? my normal accent came through. and her mate when i was gone said i sounded 'really [from the county we live in]'#which WOULD NOT BE A COMPLIMENT. it's baso saying 'your sister sounds local and chavy' without using such explosive words#and my sister LET HIM SAY IT. SHE DIDNT DEFEND ME. and she told my mum about it later bc SHE THOUGHT SHE'D TELL ME OFF#LIKE SHE DID IT TO SNITCH. THERE WAS NO SCENARIO WHERE MY SISTER WASNT BEING A CUNT. and my mum hit the ROOF#one thing she's rlly been big on is loyalty bc it's always been the 3 of us so when she found out my sister let him say that she FLIPPED#and this all happened last night and i only found out this morning bc i overheard them screaming at each other and turns out my mum#tried to keep it from me bc she didnt want my feelings hurt and IM pissed bc it actually did hurt more than i thought it would#like i KNOW what people say about my accent but it's a guy i know? my sister's been friends w him for years? i was being nice?#it's EMBARRASSING like i was clueless & friendly and turned around for him to be like 'look at this stupid local girl' like??#and my sister did NOTHING? it just sucks so i STORMED upstairs when i found out and had it out with my sister#and she knew she was fucked so she did all 'im not talking to you i have nothing to say' AND PUT HER EARPHONES IN?#the way i RIPPED them out. got in her face like okay girl u think i sound like a chav ill act like a chav lets GO#and it just got really aggressive and i wound up grabbing HER OWN SANDAL and full force hurling it at her face 😭 oops#from close range too like i was already in her face so i basically just smacked her with a sandal DSHGJKSH#now we're sat in silence bc alas we still share a room. WHAT the fuck. insane tbh but it's a bit funny. im so angry rn i could KILL#hella goes home
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homoerotvic · 5 months
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the half of it and the beauty of quiet movies and the quietness of falling in love and the deep meaningful quiet connections that can happen between people regardless of gender and sexuality
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cannot-copia · 2 years
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just applied for the job i had during college and honestly it feels bad man
everyone I know is actually accomplishing things with their life, buying property, getting promotions, getting their masters etc
fuck, even my cousin who is several years younger than me and has very little to no college (aka doesn’t have student loan debt) just got a management position at a fortune 100 company and is now making more than 60k
And where am I now?
Couldn’t do my job at the big company I was supposed to work at, where I had insurance and got paid enough to actually pay for things
all I do now is feeding horses and basically just putting them in different places 4 hours a day 6 days a week for less than what I made ever since I started working and living off that and what’s left of what I had accumulated in my 401k at my old job (that im gonna have to pay thousands of taxes on for taking it out too early im sure) and therefore fucking myself over for the future- everyone always says start young well I did and I’m too fucking useless to function without wanting to remove my skin apparently so I fucked that up
And yeah it was just an online application so I don’t know how likely it is they’ll even respond and hire me again but I feel like I am going backwards
I did what everybody always insisted I had to do
i went to college
i got a “real” (office) job
i got more than 25k student loan debt I have not been able to make even a dent in
and what do i have to show for it? even worse mental illness? A piece of paper that said i went to college? Crippling fear of answering a phone? an extreme hate for the way I look now?
and now im (at least attempting) to go back to where I was before all that bc that’s the only place i can think of will hire me, to a job I did not enjoy whatsoever, where I am going to have to explain to the high schoolers that would be working closing shift that I will have to do after the morning job like yeah i left here 3 years ago for a competitive job that paid twice as much at one of the (apparently voted) best employers in the city that everyone wants to work for but I threw it all away bc im a useless fucking idiot and now I’m back here working fast food watching all these people who will go to school and get the jobs they want and not fuck it up and actually be successful and move on with their lives
it just,,, it doesn’t feel good
i feel like I’ll never get anywhere so what’s even the point
#and I know you’re probably thinking oh well you have horses you must have plenty of money etc#thing is i work at the place i keep them i do not pay regular price or I would not afford them at all#I’ve only ended up with as many as i have bc at my old#job i made just enough to not be negative every month#and now I can’t get rid of them because I am afraid to talk to people and ended up very attached to one we got with the intention to sell#after a few months#and the other we have had for 10 years now but she would need to be consigned somewhere to get what she’s worth#which requires /talking to people/#so while I previously could just about afford them I can’t now unless something majorly changes#once i run out of what’s left of my 401k i will not have the money to pay for them#yes i know buying ghost tickets with that was an idiotic thing to do but it temporarily made me happy#which is also another reason i want to try to avoid getting rid of the horses if at all possible#sounds stupid but at this point without them there would really be no point in being here#they’re the only reason I talk to anybody at all these days and they are capable of making me happy#im sorry i feel like i have been complaining on here a lot more frequently lately and i don’t think anybody wants to see shit like this on#their dash but i don’t really have anywhere else to say things#anybody irl always just says ‘well other people did x/it was your decision to y/etc#the shitty insurance I have now does not cover anxiety/depression things I have not been taking any and I have a feeling it is not helping#delete later
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azulhood · 1 month
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Danny was tired, like 'I feel it in my bones and soul' tired. And he didn't want sleep at home because there's only so many nights, he could spend lying awake making sure his heart was beating in case his parents checked on him.
Currently he was flying aimlessly not really taking in his surroundings, but he could neither sleep while flying or fly forever. Normally he'd sleep over at Sam or Tucker's, but the Mansons had made it clear that he wasn't welcome at their house anymore and Tucker was grounded. Both would sneak him in if he asked, but he didn't want them to get in trouble for him. Which leads him to decide between his two choices, sleeping in a graveyard, or sleeping in a forest.
The graveyard was a little crowded with all the ghosts that called it home but he could probably find a quiet spot to sleep. The forest had a great view of the stars but was filled with traps from both his parents and the GIW after tracking his ecto-signature. Both options weren't appealing, but he wasn't about to chance sleeping on the roof of his house again. There were too many ghost detecting guns attached to it now. Danny sighed, graveyard it was, at least the ecto from all the shades/ghosts would hide him well enough. Decision made, now all he had to do was make his way over there. But first, where the heck was he? Danny looked around at the unfamiliar grey sky and gargoyles littered around and realized he had no clue where he was. He must have flown too far away from Amity without noticing...Again. It was really becoming a bad habit. Danny stared down at the city's inhabitants that were going home or heading to nightshifts or whatever and dreaded the long flight back to his town. And maybe it was ghost instinct, or maybe it was just his exhaustion. But his brain suggested 'What if I just possess someone?' And to him that seemed like a perfectly logical train of thought. He wouldn't control their body or anything, just sleep in their skin...That did not make it sound better at all. Before he could think twice, someone left a general store, arms filled with stuff and somehow projecting an aura of safety. The two thoughts of 'They look comfy' and 'screw it' clashed together in his head as he made the very stupid decision of performing a swan drive right into the someone. "WHAT THE-" "Don't worry, I'll be gone by morning I just need to sleep" Danny cut off the persons freakout-he should really get their name at some point- he would have explained more but the sleep gods had already done their job. This left one very confused, scared, and freaked out Batkid.
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obaex · 2 months
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(not) my girl - rafe cameron
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summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.
word count: 3.4k
a/n: inspired by this post by the sweet @writingsbychlo ♡
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You were curled up on Rafe’s lap, head resting on his shoulder with his arms circled around you and his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your thigh as he talked with his friends around the firepit in his backyard.
You had been hooking up for a few months and recently you felt like you were right on the cusp of him asking you to make things official, exclusive. You were spending nearly every night together and every time he asked to talk or wanted to hang out you got your hopes up that this would be the time he brought it up, only to be crushed over and over again.
Deep down, you knew how Rafe felt. People who were ‘just hooking up’ didn’t beg you to stay every morning, didn’t make room in their dresser for you, didn’t wake you up with featherlight kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, face breaking into a ridiculous smile when your eyes fluttered open to find his drinking you in, they didn’t call you during a panic attack after fighting with their dad, pleading to hear your voice as the only thing that would calm them down. No, you were pretty sure you knew exactly how this boy felt, but you wanted him to acknowledge it. You ached to hear him say with pride ‘that’s my girl’, to mark you as his own.
Your eyes flitted across the fire to your best friend Olivia who wiggled her eyebrows at the sight of you and Rafe together, all too aware of the situationship you were in and how badly you wanted him. You blushed and rolled your eyes back at her, just trying to enjoy this small moment where he showed his affection for you in front of other people. She winked at you before interrupting the conversation.
“Sooo, who is everyone taking to Midsummers?”
You shot her a look that screamed what the hell are you doing!? You were still holding out hope that Rafe was going to ask you, even though it was less than a week away. Maybe he had an elaborate, last-minute surprise planned?
“Feel pretty good about my date” Kelce murmured, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she giggled. “What about you Top, still intent on macking on Rafe’s sister?” he asked. Topper threw an empty beer can at him as everyone laughed.
“I don’t know why we even bother with dates” Rafe said. “We’re just gonna dick around together all night anyway, there’s no point.” He took a swig of his beer without meeting your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment and a painful ache in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spring forward. You met Olivia’s gaze again and she nodded encouragingly towards Rafe.
“W-what about me, Cameron?” you asked, trying to mask your feelings, to sound chill as you poked him in the side.
He looked at you sweetly, “C’mon and say what when my dad asks about you? ‘Hey dad, here’s the girl I’ve been sneaking through the back door every night and smashing while you and Rose are three doors down? Hard pass.” He laughed, focusing back on his beer and his friends as you felt his hand slide off your leg.
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You allowed yourself to be genuinely upset for three days.
You didn’t sleep at Tanneyhill for the first time in months, you didn’t even answer his texts which grew increasingly more insistent the more you ignored them. You stayed home, you cried, and you contemplated what the fuck you were doing with your life. Was that really all you were to him – just someone he was sneaking around with? Did you somehow become that girl, too naïve and too stupid to see that she wasn’t and would never be anything more than a hookup?
You thought about the way Rafe reached for you and held you in his sleep, the way his hands ghosted over your body, the things he’d whisper in your ear, the times you’d ridden shotgun in his truck or he’d taken you to his favorite spot on the beach… Your heart was so sure about him, but your head throbbed with the echo of his words.
You and Olivia talked incessantly about it, dissecting everything he’d said. “Maybe he just needs a little push, a little… motivation?” she suggested, and the more you talked about it, the more you realized she was right.
If Rafe Cameron was so sure he didn’t need to be seen with you at Midsummers, you were more than happy to oblige.
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The last of the hot summer sun was settling over the ocean as you climbed the front steps of the Island Club in daring three-inch heels; the added height gave your figure a perfect sway that simply begged people to watch you as you walked by. Your dress had a thigh-high slit, open back, and was the perfect color for your skin tone, illuminating you; the neckline was devilishly tantalizing, giving the desired effect of drawing all eyes to the dazzling diamond pendant that reflected the setting sun.
Rafe heard you before he saw you; rather, he heard a sea of murmurs rippling through the crowd which drew his attention to the doors just as you walked through by yourself, essentially announcing to the island that you were alone for the night.
“Geezus” he heard Topper mutter under his breath as he took you in. Normally, he would have known better and normally Rafe would have put his head through a wall for glaring at you the way he was, but even though his fists clenched in response and he wanted to turn and say something to him, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you; “Geezus” didn’t even begin to cover it.
You were always undeniably beautiful to Rafe: when you wore his oversized sweatshirt around the fire pit, when you were makeup-less in your wet bikini at the beach, and especially when you were wearing next to nothing tangled up in his limbs and his soft sheets, but the dress you had on, the way your hair shone in the last rays of the sun, the way you were positively radiating had his pulse throbbing in his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his palms sweating. Fuck, I am so happy she’s mine he thought to himself, smiling and moving to walk towards you as your eyes met his across the crowd.
You were glowing at him and sent him a discreet smile as you greeted people and made your way in his direction. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to have you at his side so everyone knew you were his. You approached your friends, dropping a kiss on Topper and Kelce’s cheeks before doing the same to Rafe. You made to move past him quickly, intent on talking to Olivia when he grabbed your hand.
“Hey, hold up you-you look…” he started to say, trying and struggling to find the words to capture the way his heart was pounding in his chest.
Your wide eyes met his expectantly and just when he opened his mouth to speak, they flitted over his shoulder.
“Oh! Sorry, Rafey! Just saw someone I want to catch up with, I’ll see you later” and without another word you walked away, leaving Rafe Cameron, the King of Kildare staring and stuttering after you.
You were walking away from him? he thought. You had seemed so adamant about this whole Midsummers thing, dropping hints about going together and now here he was, practically ready to get down on one knee at the sight of you, and you were walking away from him? He was speechless. He turned to watch you go… right into the arms of another man. He looked to be about your age, the same height and a similar build as Rafe, because of course Rafe was sizing him up, how could he not? This guy had his paws all over his girl. And then, after a moment’s realization, he thought darkly, she’s not your girl…
You had greeted this guy with a huge hug, and he’d nearly lifted you off the ground, now he had your full attention and you were laughing at something he said, the most sweet and perfect sound that Rafe wanted only for himself.
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As everyone took their seat for dinner, you intentionally positioned yourself across the table from Rafe. The slight of not sitting next to him where he could run his fingers up your thigh or tangle them in your own left him fidgeting instead, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket and swirling his drink. What the fuck did I used to do with my hands? he thought angrily.
You paid him no mind, instead, leaning forward on your elbows and toying with the diamond pendant around your neck, fingering it, twirling it and sliding it back and forth on its chain.
“Holy DIAMOND, girl!” Olivia said as she took note of your necklace and leaned over to get a closer look. “Is it new, where is it from?” her eyes shot from you to Rafe and back again.
He glared at you both over the rim of his glass as he took a deep gulp, trying to act unphased but also extremely curious to hear your answer knowing damn well it wasn’t from him.
Your eyes flitted to Rafe briefly before you leaned towards Olivia, lowering your voice, but not so low that he couldn’t hear you. “It was… a gift from… someone special” you said winking conspiratorially at her.
Rafe choked on his drink just as someone was standing up at the front of the crowd to make a speech, shifting everyone’s attention and interrupting the slew of words that nearly poured out of his mouth.
Who the fuck on Kildare fucking Island was buying his girl jewelry? he thought. And then, again, he reminded himself, she’s not your girl… the thought making his whole body tense, rigid and taught in anger and frustration.
For the next 20 minutes, all he could do was stare at you as you twiddled that ridiculous necklace in your fingers, imagining what it would be like to rip it off of you and replace it with something twice as nice. He was mentally calculating how much he would spend and how quickly he could get it when JJ Maybank passed by their table. Rafe had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue until he watched JJ do a double take at you and stop in his tracks.
Don’t do it, Maybank, Rafe thought. Don’t you dare do it.
He watched JJ eye you and the distance between you and Rafe and, deeming it safe, peddled back, pulling a glass of champagne off his tray and handing it to you with a flourish. He knelt down next to your seat and when you turned to talk to him, it left JJ perfectly eye level with your cleavage. He was whispering something to you and you rested your hand on his bicep as you leaned forward to hear him. Rafe could see you blushing, and he watched Maybank take in every greedy eyeful of you. Rafe stood up so abruptly, it knocked his chair over and rattled the plates on the table. Everyone looked up at him, including you, and for the first time that night he had your full attention as your eyes widened at his reaction.
“YN, inside, let’s go” he said simply, walking to your side of the table.
You raised an eyebrow at him and his demanding tone.
“And Maybank if you don’t stop staring at her tits, I will put your face through this table.”
JJ quickly stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender as Rafe approached you.
“Rafe we were just—” you started.
“— Inside. Now” he said, taking you forcefully by the arm and leading you inside and into the locker room.
“Rafe! Come on! Stop it! I want to spend the night with my friends, I don’t know what you possibly have to be mad at” you said in resistance.
And that was the very last straw for him.
“WHAT I HAVE TO BE MAD AT?!” he said, incredulous, nearly shouting. “Where do I even begin with you!? You blow me off all week, then you waltz in here looking like an absolute bombshell, wearing next to nothing – I swear to God, I’ve seen you in bikinis with more material - every guy here is leering at you. Then you’re talking to that jackass who had his hands all over you…” he said, exasperated.
At this point he was pacing, his voice continuing to rise in anger and frustration. “…And then Maybank?! Maybank of all people?! He was flirting with you right in front of me. Was it to make me jealous? Is that what this is all about? Because I’m about to lose my fucking mind YN” he said running his hands through his hair, giving you sick pleasure knowing it took him probably an hour to style it. A surprised if not amused look rested on your face as you continued to twirl your necklace in your fingers.
“And who the fuck gave you that” he pointed accusingly at the diamond in your hand, not giving you a single second to respond, “No. Absolutely not. Take it off. Right now” he said, walking briskly towards you in an effort to do it himself.
You held out a hand to stop him.
“I don’t know what the big deal is Rafe” you said innocently. “What difference does it make? I’m just the girl you’re sneaking through your back door every night to smash” you shrugged, your eyes burning at him.
His eyes widened as he heard his own words on your lips.
“No, that’s – that’s not – I didn’t mean” he stuttered.
You gave him a vicious look as you watched the gears turn in his head and he tried to string a sentence together.
“Look, I didn’t mean it like that – I shouldn’t have – what I meant was – ahh, fuck it” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you in an instant, one hand holding your face firmly as he pushed you against the lockers and the other coming to rest on the wall beside you, caging you in against him as he pressed his lips bruisingly to yours, devouring you, just like he’d wanted to do all night.
You wanted to stay strong, to argue, to tell him he wasn’t going to win you over like this. But he was. He so so was as he deepened the kiss almost instantly and the pad of his thumb ran across your cheek sending a shiver through your body. When he finally felt you relent and kiss him back, winding your arms around his neck and pulling yourself flush to him he let out a small groan that almost made you forget the whole point of tonight. Almost.
You pulled back, leaving not even an inch between you. The feeling of you kissing him had calmed him down significantly. His breathing had slowed but his cheeks were still flushed and his hair was mussed. He lingered there, his nose brushing yours as he stroked your cheek.
“You’re my girl” he whispered finally.
“Are you asking or telling?” you whispered back.
“Do I really need to ask, princess?” he said, meeting your gaze with his own.
You raised an eyebrow at him threateningly.
He rolled his eyes and said in a sigh, “Be mine?”
You bit your bottom lip and pretended to think about it. “Gosh, I don’t know” you said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips “M’might have to think about it” you said, pressing another kiss there, lingering longer “Mm’might need some convincing” you said, kissing him again and running your hands up his chest.
His voice was low but steady, “I will take you home right now and convince you as many times as you need me to” he said, kissing you back through a smile.
“Deal” you replied sweetly.
You moved to leave but he didn’t let you go and when you met his gaze, his brow was furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “I am serious though, about this, about you” he said. “I’m sorry I fucked up.” He looked uncharacteristically bashful, unsure even. “Really, are you mine?” he whispered.
“Yes, Rafe,” you said as your heart fluttered in your chest “All yours.”
He smiled stupidly, so far gone for you as he kissed you again. You were completely lost in the moment until he muttered against you, “Then please for the love of God will you take that necklace off and tell me who in the hell thought they could buy you something like that?”
You met his eyes strongly, the last embers of your pain crackling there.
“No” you said simply, continuing quickly when he tried to interrupt you. “I’m going to keep it and wear it whenever I damn well please to remind you of what you have and what you sure as hell want don’t want to lose.”
He looked genuinely shocked to hear you challenge him like that and you could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in anger.
“I… hate that” he growled. “What if I buy you something nicer?”
You shrugged noncommittally and he shook his head at you. “Fine, let’s get out of here, that dress is killing me and I have a lot of convincing I want to do to you right now.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and led you back outside, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
When you rejoined the party there were a few murmurs and glances as you hung off his arm. Were you imagining it, or was he taking the long way back to your table, intentionally parading you around the patio and staring daggers at anyone whose gaze lingered too long? Being seen together at Midsummers was basically shouting from the rooftops that you were official. You were glowing, he was too. You said goodbye to your friends and within minutes you were in his truck headed back to Tanneyhill, his hand rubbing circles higher and higher on your thigh, your fingers in his hair.
He threw the car in park and scooped you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way upstairs like that, which had you shrieking in delight. He didn’t set you down until you were in his room and he kissed you feverishly, his hands cupping your face, before his fingers traced your neck, nearing your necklace.
“Rafe” you muttered against his lips, a warning.
“Just tell me who” he muttered back, unable to let it go and kissing you deeper in the hopes of convincing you. “I’m already gonna to buy you a new one, you’ll never wear this again, but I need to know. Can’t stop thinking about someone else with their hands on you” he said as he guided you backwards towards his bed, pushing you gently onto his comforter and crawling on top of you.
“I don’t like it. I do not fucking like it” he growled against your lips. Under his anger, you detected a hint of vulnerability and you broke your kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, which gazed longingly at you as they searched your face. Perhaps you had tortured this poor boy enough.
You sighed, relenting.
“Olivia” you said.
He looked at you, completely confused for only a moment before the realization dawned on his face and he hung his head.
“There isn’t anyone else” he said in equal parts relief, frustration and embarrassment.
You shook your head at him.
“God I’m so fucking stupid” he said.
You giggled before reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace and toss it on his bedside table.
He looked at you with heat and tenderness, “I’m sorry that’s what it took for me to get my shit together. I wish it all happened differently, but I don’t regret it. You’re it for me, YN, no one else.”
He placed a kiss beneath your ear, to your throat, to your bare collarbone. “My girl” he whispered against your skin, enjoying how it felt on his tongue and the sound of your sweet laughter in response.
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taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444
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the-modern-typewriter · 4 months
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Imagine a villain straight refusing to fight another member of the Hero Team just cuz his hero archnemesis is not present
"Where are they?"
"Oh, not again." The protagonist could feel a headache coming on. "Look-"
"-Are they hurt?" The villain's eyes went dark and dangerous. "Who hurt them?"
"They're fine! Oh my god."
"Then where are they?"
The protagonist definitely had a headache. "It's their day off."
"They didn't tell me they had the day off. What's wrong?"
The really concerning part was that the hero probably would tell the villain which days they were working and which they weren't. The two of them were as bad as each other! The hero was going to be unbearable when they came back and found out that the team had fought the villain without them.
"Can we just get this over with?" the protagonist tried.
"No."
The protagonist sighed. They pinched the bridge of their nose and took a few deep breaths. "Okay," they said slowly. "But you realise I'm still going to have confiscate your nightmare robot."
"It's not for you. And don't think I didn't notice you dodging the question!"
The protagonist considered their options; lies, truth, everything in between.
The villain's nightmare robot hunkered down a little more pointedly in the middle of the bridge. Several people honked their horns. It was, honestly, embarrassing for everyone involved at that point.
"Their grandma died."
"Oh no." The villain's whole face softened. "Grandma L or Grandma P?"
Of course he knew the hero's grandparents. Of course he did. "Look, about the robot-"
"-I'll reschedule," the villain said.
"I can't let you keep the robot. My boss would have my head."
"That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have flowers to send."
The protagonist's eye twitched. "If you try and walk away with it-"
"-Do you really want to traumatize this entire bridge of innocent civilians?"
"I'm sure they're traumatized having to listen to you two idiots on a weekly basis."
"I'm taking the robot. When are they back?"
"They haven't said," the protagonist said, through gritted teeth. "As you know-"
"-They'll be doing all the funeral arrangements. Yeah. You know what, give me their number. I'll text them."
"I'm not giving you their number."
"Why not?"
"It's against policy."
"I'd like to express my condolences."
The protagonist looked them dead in the face. "Mm. That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have a robot to confiscate."
The robot slammed a fist into the bridge. It wobbled precariously.
The protagonist raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. They folded their arms across their chest.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" the villain snarled.
"I hate you too, don't worry."
"I should kill you."
"They'd have so much paperwork when they got back from the funeral. It would really improve their month, you killing me."
They ended up glaring at each other.
"If I give you the bloody stupid robot, will you give me their number?"
The protagonist smiled sweetly. "That's the only smart thing I've ever heard you say."
Everyone, generally, preferred it when the hero was around.
They all made sure it didn't happen again.
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homunculus-argument · 8 months
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I know it would probably be a logistical nightmare to also make this accessible to the actual people represented, but I think it would be cool to have a game where the whole point is that every character has different limitations, that make it impossible or at least incredibly difficult to get past the whole game without switching them every once in a while, and the way you switch is by going to another character and asking their help with something.
Like you start out the game with one character and go "oh huh, the colour sceme of this game is really cool, really interesting use of such a limited palette", play through the puzzles for a while, and then encounter something where you're supposed to arrange some slightly differently coloured puzzle pieces to the right order by shade or something, and it's goddamn impossible. No matter how many methods you try, it's just not clicking, no matter how logical your solutions seem, no matter how clearly they can't be arranged in any other way that'd make more sense.
And maybe you go online to ask people "hey I'm stuck in the colour puzzle, what the hell am I supposed to do to get past this?" and someone tells you to go find one of the other playable characters and ask for their help. Which sounds patronising and stupid but you're stuck so you might as well give it a try. You go to one of the other characters, choosing the dialogue option to go "hey I need a hand with something, I can't do this on my own", and when they go "sure, let's go", your controls now switch to the other character.
And the colour scheme switches immediately. The aesthetic limited palette has changed to a far wider range, there's details in the environment that you hadn't noticed, like the muted faint flowers on the ground are actually bright red, the greyish shirt that your first character was wearing is actually striped with orange and green. The first POV character is colourblind, this whole time you haven't been able to perceive the difference between green and red. Solving the colour arranging puzzle with the other character is a breeze.
And this is the repeating theme of the game - every character has their own limitations, and while none of the puzzles are easy, you learn to think "maybe I should ask someone to help me with this" whenever you've been stuck for an unreasonable amount of time. You need to grab a buddy along for the quests, or you'll need to go back to get one eventually, and the way the game is structured somehow ensures that you can't just tactically dodge the limitation puzzles beforehand. Deaf character's POV doesn't have the audio clues that different pieces of the same puzzle make a different clicking sound, the puzzle with garbled numbers on it stops being garbled when you're not playing the character with dyscalculia.
You slowly get to know the whole cast, and occasionally help them out with things, too. You know which character could probably help with something you're stuck with, but while they'd be glad to come help, they're unfortunately stuck doing some task that could take you 20 minutes but is going to take them all afternoon, and you can offer help. Sometimes the helping-a-buddy-out minigames don't come with any direct transactional reward, you can just help a friend with something just because you can.
And the game's whole goal isn't to just illustrate how different people have different strengths, and sometimes things that are easy for you are hard for someone else, and vice versa, but to condition the player to think "maybe I should just ask someone to help, instead of wasting time struggling on my own."
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fox-guardian · 8 months
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hey guys did you know that um. did you know. first of all did you know i'm losing my mind, secondly, do y'all remember in tma how when someone reads a written statement, they don't really Stop unless they're interrupted? and they read the whole thing easy cheesy, no issues with reading whatever words are there? like. jon literally could read french for a whole statement and was Fine. granted, that's Jon, but like nobody else struggled with pronunciations and whatnot (that i can recall)
presumably, this is an eye thing. either as employees of the institute, or because everyone there is just also eye-aligned in some degree (melanie had the ghost hunting show, the eye is fond of martin, etc)
and then there's tim in season 3 ep 86
[Sigh] Statement of… uh, Benjamin Hatendi… Hateendi? Regarding a… [papers rustling] a blanket. Dead friend. Monster. Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end. How he tried to hide. He couldn’t. Statement is from… 1983, March 2nd. And I guess… [long sigh] I guess I’m doing this one. Tim Stoker. Archival assistant… Archival prisoner at the Magnus Institute.
correct me if im wrong but i don't recall anyone struggling with pronunciations before this bit. but that's not even the biggest thing here, that's just a lil Taste, a lil Flavor.
note the phrasing there. "Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end." why would he say this when the written text on the statement says this:
Uh, right. Benjamin Hatendi’s account of… [rustling pages] oh for… a, a strange encounter. Er, statement date, March 2nd, 1983. Melanie King recording. Apparently.
"a strange encounter". that's it. nothing about an unavoidable death, just a "strange encounter". Tim Why Did You Say That.
why would our dear timothy bimothy, who is being pushed to the brink, who is becoming rapidly more depressed and losing hope, say this?
this isn't the only time he's said some weirdly grim shit tho (ep 104)
There was never really any hope for me, though, was there? This was how it was always going to go.
and then there's this bit from elias apparently having Looked into tim (also 104)
TIM All right, hit me with your X-ray eyes then, boss. What do you see? ELIAS Disruption. An unpredictable, angry man with nothing left but the desire to feel in some way revenged. TIM [Sarcastic] Ooh, terrifying! Surely only magic could have let you see so deep inside my very soul.
"nothing left" but the desire to feel revenged. and tim doesn't dispute this, because it's true.
when he first joined the institute he did so in order to look for answers about danny, but then he stopped seriously looking. and now that the circus is back, this is all the drive he has left. not looking for answers, just wanting revenge. closure. an end, if you will.
this is Literally It For Him. a couple lines later he suggests elias kill him, he's At The Breaking Point.
he is so tired, he's lost all hope, and he's saying all this grim shit about "unavoidable death" and "this is how it was always going to go" like hmmmm sounds familiar doesn't it. DOESN'T IT (<- is going insane)
(ep 11) [....] despite the rapid response of the paramedics and how much of his medical history I had immediately to hand, there was nothing I could do to save him. (ep 11) I have no responsibility to try and prevent whatever fate is coming for you. Based on my previous experience, such a thing is likely impossible anyway,[....] (ep 121) There. That was it. That was our fate; where we would always be.
hmmmm sounds a bit like oliver huh? everyone's favorite ex-accountant avatar of the end?? right??
but then there's this last bit i have from ep 86.
why did he stop reading the statement
Statement. “My parents never let me have a nightlight. I was always afraid, but they were ju–” Ugh, this is stupid.
why did he do that. again, correct me if im wrong but when else has someone just Stopped Reading like that without someone or something else interrupting them? why could tim just stop himself?
my theory is this: at this point, tim is completely gone from being aligned with the eye. he no longer seeks to know what happened to danny, he just wants closure. he doesn't wanna do any statement work, and he keeps mentioning these tidbits about hopelessness and the inevitability of terrible events, specifically death.
the eye isn't compelling him to read the statements like it does the others, because it doesn't have as strong a hold anymore. the grip is slipping from him. and by the time the unknowing rolls around, maybe it's lost him for good. maybe he finally fell into a different power he never meant to serve, and yet, he does.
and maybe. just maybe. because i'm so not in denial. but MAYBE. he did die in the unknowing. but maybe he got better.
basically end!tim truthers rise up, this is how end!tim kayaking with his bf oliver banks can still win, etc etc I'm Going Feral <3
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augustinewrites · 11 months
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tsumiki asks the question on a rare, relaxed saturday afternoon. with both the kid’s baseball games canceled due to some heavy morning rain, the four of you were taking the time to do some much needed relaxation. 
“how did you guys end up together?” 
satoru lifts his head from your lap, where you’d been plucking his brows. “isn’t it obvious? it was due to my roguishly handsome good looks and sharp comedic wit.” 
megumi scoffs from his spot on the armchair. “i doubt that.”
you press your cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder, laughing. “that’s cute, babe, but do you want to tell them how it really happened? or should i?”
“i’ll tell them,” he volunteers. “because i have been in love with you a lot longer than you might think.”
_____
satoru meets you when he’s seventeen years old. (it’s a stupid age. ‘cause when you’re seventeen, you’re all hormones and ego and think the world revolves around you.) 
so he doesn’t pay you much mind when yaga first introduces you to his little class, because honestly? he’d taken one look at you, fresh out of the countryside with your perfectly pressed uniform, not a hair out of place or a battle scar on your body and was extremely underwhelmed. so he’d brushed you off like lint on his sleeve, because he doubted you’d even survive the year. no point in getting to try and know you. 
that same afternoon, you’d unleashed hell on him with your shikigami and almost broken his nose. 
“i’m sorry,” you’d muttered when you’d forcibly accompanied him to the infirmary. 
“you don’t sound sorry,” he’d huffed. his nose (and his ego) were definitely bruised. 
you rolled your eyes and muttered something that was probably really mean under your breath. he’s about to tell you off when he feels blood start to drip again, cursing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back.
“you’re supposed to tilt your head forward,” you sigh, handing him another folded up piece of paper towel. 
he doesn’t take it, glaring down at you. “why would i do that?”
shoko and geto walk behind you both, highly amused by your bickering. “they’d be good together, don’t you think?”
“if they don’t kill each other first.” the latter chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he eyes you both. 
“if you tilt your head forward, then the blood drips out and not in–”
“why? that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”
“no, it’s not, and if you’d just let me finish what i was saying instead of interrupting me–”
it’s not the last time he interrupts you. it’s not the last time the two of you bicker or the last time he walks with you through the courtyard. days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and even though you’d almost broken his nose that first day, he quickly realizes that he couldn’t imagine you anywhere but with him. 
_____
it’s late when he sneaks out of your room, sunset streaming through the courtyard as he peeks around the corner, on the lookout for any faculty before he dashes back to the boy’s dorm…
…only to run into geto, who’s standing outside. he feels bad for a second, because they haven’t really talked since…well, everything.
but he just flicks his cigarette, grinning in that all too knowing way of his. “what were you doing in the girl’s wing, creeper?”
“nothing,” he lies, but his cheeks are warm, there are butterflies in his stomach, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.
his best friend looks at him. really looks at him. “oh, man. you’re so obvious.”
“i’m not obvious, you’re obvious,” he retorts.
geto takes another drag before holding it out to him. gojo shakes his head. “you’re one of the smartest, yet dumbest people i know. so i’m going to help you now, because i think without guidance, you are capable of making extremely rash romantic decisions.”
“that’s not true–”
“it’s very true. like that fact that you’re in love with…” geto nods his head towards the girl’s dorm, grinning. 
he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket when he feels heat crawl up his neck, looking away. “that’s ridiculous. i’m not…it’s not like that. we’re just…hanging out.”
“really?” his friend checks. “because the way that you look at her, i mean…wow. we’ve all seen it. you look at her like you hear tiny forest animals singing whenever she walks into a room.” 
satoru bristles slightly, because he’s not entirely off the mark. 
(but seventeen is a stupid age, and at the time he knew he cared for you deeply, but he didn’t know he loved you yet.)
geto knows though, and just shrugs. “i know you’ll see it someday too.”
_____
“do these shoes go with my outfit?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.
gojo shrugs, hardly even glancing up from his phone. “sure.” 
“you didn’t even look!” 
he exhales a harsh breath, tossing his phone onto your bed as he looks up at you. “why are you trying so hard for some guy you don’t even like? i mean– have you even met him?”
“no,” you sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “but me meeting him is really important to my father.” 
he leans back against your headboard, folding his hands behind his head. “why?”
“because a proposal from the kamo clan is a really big deal.” you startle when he sits up so fast that his glasses fall from their perch atop his head. “oh my– what’s wrong?!”
“everything about that sentence. a proposal? as in to be wed?”
“yes, gojo,” you confirm, turning back to adjust your earrings in the mirror. “i was born outside of the zen’in clan, but i have their inherited technique. my dad…all these years he’s worked hard to keep me off their radar so i wouldn’t be stuck there. so i wouldn’t be unhappy like he was. if i accept this proposal and join the kamo clan…all his hard work wouldn’t be for nothing.” 
“the kamo clan,” he repeats, shaking his head. he’s not sure why he’s so annoyed. it’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason. “they’re based in kyoto. you’d– you’d have to leave.”
he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but all the unsaid things that he’s been too scared to admit to himself (and especially to you) must be written all over his face, because you hesitate before you step out the door, looking back at him hopefully. 
“have fun,” is all he says instead, pretending not to notice when your expression falls. “i’ll probably be out when you get back, but just text so i know you’re alright and haven’t already been whisked off to kyoto.”
_____
“but you never joined the kamo clan,” tsumiki notes, sending you a questioning look. “why did your dad to change his mind?”
“i…actually still don’t know,” you admit, smiling softly. “he’s never told me.” 
“well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. ‘cause you’re right where you’re supposed to be,” satoru grins. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, but pulls back with a laugh when the kids groan loudly. “on that note, i’m going to start cleaning up.” 
megumi, who’d been silent the entire story, gets up to help, trailing after him into the kitchen.
“it was you,” he says once you and tsumiki are out of earshot.
satoru sets the stack of plates on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at him. “hm?”
“you made some kind of deal with her family, didn’t you? like you did for me.” 
he doesn’t answer right away, moving leftover vegetables into a container. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
besides, that was then and this was now. he’s older and wiser and he knows that he’s loved you since he was seventeen years old.
_____
your father seems taken aback, and not just because satoru gojo was standing in his study, but because of what he was proposing. “excuse me?”
blue eyes land on a photo of you on your father’s desk. you’re cherished here. loved. letting you go must be hard, even if it’s for your own good. “you want to keep her away from the zen’in’s right? if she joins the gojo clan, we’ll make the idea of even coming near her radioactive.” 
“but the only way to do that is–”
“marriage. to me, specifically,” he finishes with an easy shrug, as if he’s merely speaking about the weather. “quick, easy, simple. now you can reject the kamo clan’s proposal.”
your father is a smart man, that much is obvious. he’s kept you out of the zen’in’s grasp for years, even after news of your inherited technique had spread. there’s no way he’d turn down a deal as good as this.
“i have nothing to offer you,” he says now, expression pinched. “no dowry, or things of the like.”
“i don’t need your money,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “in fact, i only have three conditions.”
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gojo’s three conditions
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lovebugism · 3 months
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Okay soooooooo
How bout something like King Steve picking on shy!reader, then later finding out she has a shitty home life plz
ty for requesting!! this can be read as a prequel to this fic — steve comforts you when he accidentally makes you flinch (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, cw for brief mentions of abuse, 1.8k)
Sitting alone at the Hellfire table, you feel a little like fishbait. 
Your spot in the very back of the cafeteria is normally full and loud — with Dustin’s bickering, and Eddie’s laughing, and Gareth’s stupid jokes — but they’re not here now. They’re off getting their trays while you sit in wait for them (and the cold fries you’ll ultimately steal from Eddie’s plate). It leaves you perfect prey for circling sharks.
You hear laughter from behind you, over the sounds of the bustling lunch room. You’re certain they’re laughing at you — ‘cause you always think someone’s laughing at you — but you try hard to ignore it. You disregard the subtle pang of anxiety in your chest and stick your nose in your book, eyes flitting across the words without reading any of them.
Someone flumps down at your side then, where Mike usually sits. The overwhelming scent of spiced cologne stings your nostrils. With watering eyes, you look beside you. At Tommy fucking Hagan.
“Hey, Wallflower,” he greets like it’s normal — like he hasn’t spent the past four years pretending you don’t exist. You think he only calls you Wallflower now because his friends have been doing it for so long they don’t remember your real name.
The boy props his elbow on the table and puts his chin in his fist, trying hard to hide his boyish beam and accompanying laughter. He fails.
You cower at his presence, all but shrinking into yourself. “…Hi?” you reply in a tiny voice.
“How’s it hangin’?”
“...Fine?”
“That’s great!” he answers instantly, like he hadn’t heard you at all. “You see, my friend Steve, over there— you know him, right?”
You don’t bother to look where he’s pointing. Of course, you know Steve The Hair Harrington. You don’t think there’s a single person in Hawkins who doesn’t.
You nod in response.
Tommy’s smile widens. “Well, he’s got this massive crush on you,” he confesses, choking back a laugh halfway through. “I mean, he talks about you all the time.”
You know he’s lying. And not just because he’s grinning so hard that his eyes are crinkled and his freckled cheeks are turning pink. You’re almost certain Steve Harrington doesn’t even know who you are. He never had a reason to. Why would the King of Hawkins High ever stoop so low to know someone like you?
You glance at him over your shoulder, a couple tables down from you. He’s almost magnetically pretty. You couldn’t ignore him if you tried — with his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his pretty smile. His golden cheeks flush as all his friends start poking fun at him. 
He rolls his eyes and scoffs a laugh you can tell is forced from here. He doesn’t think any of this is funny. You can see it on his face. But he isn’t trying to stop it all from happening. You’re just collateral damage, really.
You turn back to Tommy with a disbelieving look in your eye.
He continues to ramble despite it. “He was just a little nervous coming up to you, that’s all. So I thought I’d do him a favor and slip you his number. You know, as his wingman and all.” He tosses a folded-up index card onto the pages of your opened book. “You should call him tonight— It’ll make his day, I swear.”
He pats you a little too hard on the back before he goes. His laugh echoes over all the rest when he sits back down at his table. You watch them over your shoulder as they fall over themselves to crack jokes about you. 
Steve’s the only one not smiling. “Not cool, Tommy,” he mouths.
—————
Locker 148. The one right across from yours. Property of Steve The Hair Harrington. 
You shove the thick card with his number written on it between the slits in the metal. You’d carried it around all day, utterly unsure of what to do with it. You decided ultimately to return it, figuring he might feel a little better if a total stranger didn’t have his phone number.
You struggle to slide it through the thin gap, though. The paper gets caught halfway through, and you try to yank it back out again. The old locker moves with you, like it’s not completely shut but still somehow latched. 
You’re so in your own head you don’t hear the gymnasium door down the hall squeal open and shut again. Steve pants heavily and tries to recover from a ruthless basketball practice. He hunts for a water fountain and finds you instead.
“What are you doing?” he calls as he nears you, not malicious or unkind but genuinely curious.
Your heart lurches into your throat as you all but jump out of your skin.
Steve laughs, a pretty sound in the silent hallway. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t— I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t,” you assure with an averted gaze, though your frightened demeanor says otherwise. “I was just— I was trying to give you this.”
You hold the paper out towards him. He takes it with hesitant hands. “What is it?”
“Your number. Tommy gave it to me earlier, and I know it was just a stupid joke, so I… I thought you’d feel more comfortable if I gave it back to you.”
Something in Steve’s chest aches. He doesn’t understand why you would care about what might make him comfortable. It’s not like he ever gave you the time of day — or ever tried to stop his friends from being total assholes. As far as he’s concerned, you’re the last person who should give a shit about him.
“Oh. Right— Yeah… Thanks,” he stammers and shoves the thing into his pocket. “And I’m— I’m sorry about Tommy and everything. He can be a real douchebag sometimes. I didn’t… I didn’t tell him to bother you or anything—”
“I know,” you assure in a mousy voice. “Tommy gave me your number hoping I’d be dumb enough to call while your friends were over so you could all… laugh at me? I guess. He could’ve been a little more original, honestly.”
Steve cracks a smile. He almost laughs, but he can’t tell if you’re joking or not.
“I’ll talk to him later. Tell him to leave you alone—” He rambles and walks closer to you. You watch him with tentative eyes as he approaches. “—He’s a total dumbass sometimes, but he usually means well. Most of the time, anyway—”
Steve raises his hand suddenly. And, because you’re frightened by everything little thing, you flinch and stumble over yourself in the process. The lockers catch your fall, and you hit the back of your head. Hard.
“Shit— Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” you squeak, holding the crown of your hair and squinting as your skull pounds.
Steve rushes to your side, then idles just ahead of you because he doesn’t know if you want him touching you. His brows pinch, chiseled features swimming with concern. His cinnamon eyes glitter with it, too. “I wasn’t trying to scare you—”
“It’s okay.”
“—My locker was just jammed. I was going to shut it.”
The metal door is open now, from where it wasn’t shut all the way and where you just smacked your head on it.
“I just wasn’t expecting it,” you assure in a tight voice, trying hard to ignore the sharp throbbing. “It’s fine. I’m fine—”
“You’re hurt.”
“It’ll go away—”
“Let me get you an icepack.”
“—I’ll be fine once I get home.”
Steve, feeling purely at fault and aching at how effortlessly you shrug him off, decides to approach you fully. He curls a warm hand around the outside of your elbow. A touch surprisingly gentle. “No. C’mon. Let me help.”
You don’t feel much like you’re in any position to fight him about it. Not with the world still swaying under your feet. 
Steve guides you the short distance to the empty cafeteria. Slow and kind and dreadfully patient. He sits you down, makes sure you’re still okay, and then rushes to fix you a makeshift icepack — a ziplock bag filled to the brim with chipped ice.
He sits at the chair beside yours, slightly askew so his knees bump your thighs. He holds the pack to the crown of your head and gazes at you attentively. You’re not looking back at him to see it.
“Does it still hurt?”
You shrug, eyes flitted to the wringing hands in your lap. “It’s fine. It just feels a little like I have a migraine.”
Steve winces. “I’m sorry.”
Your doe eyes peek at him from beneath your lashes. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I scared you.”
“Everything scares me.”
It’s a dumb joke. You mean it, but you still expect him to laugh about it. He doesn’t even crack a smile, though. He just keeps looking at you with that puppy-like twist to his features. The worry is evident in his face. 
“Do you wanna, like, talk about it or something?”
“About what?”
“Why you flinched.”
You freeze, breath hitching in your throat. No one’s ever noticed your incessant panic — outside of making jokes about it anyway. No one’s cared enough to ask about it, either. Steve Harrington is the last person you expected any kind of concern from.
You shake your head after a few long moments. “No.”
“You could,” Steve assures, suddenly shy. You didn’t know he could be anything other than totally full of himself. “You know, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t— I wouldn’t tell anyone—”
You scoff a disbelieving laugh.
Steve’s features swirl with hurt. You hate that it makes your chest ache. You hate most that he hasn’t stopped being soft with you. The hand holding the pack to your head hasn’t yet wavered, even though you know his arm must be tired now.
“I wouldn’t. ‘Cause I— I know what it’s like to… to have a bad home life or whatever,” he confesses, stammering hopelessly. He forces a laugh at himself. “Probably more than most people do, honestly.”
His admission takes you by surprise. It comforts you in a way you didn’t think someone like him could. 
Even still, you shake your head. “I— I can’t—” you murmur, clearing your throat when the words get stuck there. “I can’t talk about it…”
Steve nods, firm and reassuring. “That’s okay. You don’t have to, I was just… I was just saying, you know? I get it.”
You swallow through a tight throat, nodding wordlessly in response.
“Plus, you know, you have my number and everything… If you ever wanted to talk…”
You flash him a timid look and crack a quiet smile. “I gave it back to you, remember?”
“I’ll write it down for you again,” he promises with a shrug and a lopsided grin. It’s easier to ignore his aching arm and the ice stinging his palm when he’s looking at you. “For real this time.”
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peachypinkygloss · 9 months
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call me soon — jjk
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Jungkook finds himself obsessing over you a bit too much than he'd like to admit, but you two get a chance to see more of each other during a hot summer night where you both are lonely, desperate and horny.
☾ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
☾ genre: strangers to fwb to lovers, summer break au, university au, smut
☾ word count: 5.9k
☾ warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of driving under the influence of alcohol (jk had one beer okay 🙄 no car crash lol), hello tae and oh — jimin?, hurt and comfort 🧐, mentions of masturbation (m), dry humping, clit stimulation, tits play, praising, unprotected sex & oral sex, blowjob, cum eating, cum play, multiple orgasms, brief overstimulation.
a.n.: i tried something and i think i like it 😼 put y'all seatbelts on because this is the best smut i've ever written 🫡 *no taglist!!
Jungkook knits his eyebrows together, deeply lost in his thoughts. At this point, the music blasting through the house doesn't make his body shake anymore, it doesn't make his heart beat faster nor does it make adrenaline rush through his veins.
He feels the vibrations under his feet, though. It's intense, but not enough to distract him. The pad of his index finger mindlessly circles the neck of the beer bottle he's holding, his other hand shoved in the pocket of his baggy jeans.
His friend's elbow sometimes nudges him in the ribs because of how animated he is when talking, but he doesn't make Jungkook turn his head nonetheless. He hears him laugh and curse while he looks away, gaze lost in the crowd of people, eyes shifting between all the faces without a thought about them.
He's too busy thinking about yesterday, that cursed night where he just wanted to fill up his gas tank and unluckily fell upon you at the gas station.
He thinks he never looked at his phone so many times in a day before, never thought a stupid call would turn him crazy, obsessively scrolling through his contact list to find your name.
Every time the day ended, he worried that maybe you had deleted his number, but your name has always been there. A part of him hoped you would have deleted him from your phone. It would have explained why you never called and then perhaps he would have felt less crazy.
But no. You just didn't bother pressing on his name and sticking your cellphone to your ear, waiting for him to pick up as you listened to his ringtone.
And that's quite a bit worse than being erased from your contact list because that means you just didn't think about him. Not once were your thoughts about Jungkook.
He could be wrong, but he prefers to torture himself.
Anyway, it's not like you were much bothered by the fact that you totally ghosted him back at the convenience store. 'I forgot', how horrible that sounds?
But then, all he wanted to do at this moment was to forgive you, tell you that it doesn't matter, that he doesn't really care, that it's no biggie. He can't blame you and that's so fucking stupid because all he did was eat you out.
Yet he finds himself thinking about you more than he'd like to. He even jerked himself off to you, playing back in his head the moment you were whimpering his name and pulling on his hair, clenching your thighs around him. He's not super proud of that — kind of cringes him a little bit when he thinks about it — but he got really hard imagining your pussy leaking down his knuckles.
You were a good hook-up and yes, he thought it could happen again. He hoped you two would do it a second time, maybe a third — how many you'd like to.
He likes sex and his obsession for you started because of that, but he would lie if he said hanging out with you like friends doesn't sound good to him. It sounds so fucking... nice.
In the end, he knows you two as friends wouldn't work. He works for your dad to pay his scholarship that is incredibly expensive even for a public university.
You, you don't need that. You don't need to work, don't have to lift a finger. You're treated like a princess — have the life of a princess — and you might even think of yourself as a princess too. Fuck him for liking it. Fuck him for fantasizing about possibly being your knight.
"This party fucking sucks."
Jungkook's eyes finally focus on something else than the void, laying on his best friend Taehyung. He doesn't know where he comes from, he only remembers him leaving the kitchen area when everyone was in the depth of a conversation.
"Why's that?" He asks instead of agreeing, knowing he can't really complain when he hasn't been in the mood to party at all.
Taehyung leans his back against the counter beside Jungkook, taking a sip of his soon empty beer bottle. "It just fucking sucks," he shrugs, a scowl on his face as if it's a justifiable reason. It might be because Taehyung's not so difficult to entertain.
It might be because of something else, Jungkook believes, though he doesn't have the heart to ask. He'll do it another time when he won't smell like rejection and when his head won't be filled with a woman's giggles who's out of his league.
So he only hums in agreement, silence installing between him and Taehyung.
A couple of minutes pass, Taehyung has opened another bottle and Jungkook is still quiet. Usually, he doesn't mind slipping in conversations, sharing his own perspective of things. He rarely says no to games, bringing his competitive ass over and crushing everyone's chances of winning.
Today isn't usual, that's why it fucking sucks.
"I'm gonna go get some fresh air," Jungkook says to Taehyung and this one nods.
"I'll probably head home soon anyway."
"Be sure to take an Uber."
"Of course, you know me," he chuckles, waving Jungkook goodbye.
His friend does the same, a slight smile painted on his face as he walks to the front door, opening it and stepping out of the house.
His eyes get used to the darkness as he closes the door behind him. He notices someone sitting on the stairs, typing quickly on the keyboard of their cellphone. He approaches the figure, hearing them sniffing as if they've been crying.
They suddenly drop their phone, muttering a 'fuck' as the device lays on the ground. Jungkook decides to go reach for it so he walks down the stairs and bends to catch it, turning around to hand it to the owner.
"Here." He looks at the person's face and his heart jumps in his chest when he recognizes you. He doesn't know where to look for a second, his eyes shifting down to the screen of your phone.
He catches a glimpse of a conversation with a certain 'Jimin' and immediately looks away, feeling guilty for not minding his business.
You thank him in a tired voice, taking back your iPhone. He stands there uselessly as you seemingly give up on your previous message, turning off your phone's screen with a defeated sigh.
"Is everything okay?" He asks, taking a seat beside you on the stairs.
As you wipe your tears away with the tips of your fingers, he wonders who could have hurt a princess like you. Princesses shouldn't cry. They should be covered in diamonds, not have pearls falling down from their eyes.
He wouldn't have let something like this happen as your knight. He knows for a fact that he would have protected you, and he thinks that whomever is pretending to be your knight right now is doing a really bad job.
"Yeah, I just... shouldn't be here," you respond with a shaky voice, eyes strained down on your feet.
"Where else should you be?"
You turn your head toward him, looking at him like a poor hurt puppy. He doesn't want to compare you to something so defenceless as a puppy, but that's what your eyes tell him. It's not like you're weak, it's more like you've given up on being strong.
"I don't know," you scoff, shaking your head. "Somewhere I belong."
Jungkook thinks he understands what you mean by that. He thinks, but he doesn't know if he really does. It's complicated to relate to someone who's so different from you.
But he wants to try. Relating to someone is not mandatory to be friends, anyway. Nor is it to be in love.
He hums, leaning his forearms on his knees and looking in front of him, watching the night butterflies flying under the dim lights of the street lamps. "Wanna get home?" He proposes, thinking that's maybe where you want to be right now. "I can give you a ride."
Your reddened eyes look up at him and he looks back at you. "No, not home..." You mutter, shaking your head from side to side. "Tomorrow will come too fast," you sigh and break eye-contact, tapping on the screen of your phone to check what hour it is. One a.m..
Is it a coincidence that every time you two are alone the clock indicates one? Should he believe in coincidences or only in the ones that concern you?
"We're already tomorrow," you groan.
Jungkook smiles — he can't help it. "You can't stop the time, baby" he laughs lightly, still staring at you, at your side profile. A blessing to the eyes, a downfall to his heart. "It won't wait for your call to finally start."
You scoff again, this time because you know what he's referring to. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just bad at relationships... or whatever this is," you apologize, certainly coming out a bit blunter than intended. Blame it on the alcohol in your system.
"It's already forgotten." It isn't, but it may be forgiven. He'll surely have this one on his heart for quite a while, though it won't make him stay away from you. It possibly can't.
You send him a sad smile, having pity for him — or maybe for you — he doesn't know.
"Wanna come to mine, then?" He offers, sporting an innocent smile on his face even though he has no intentions of sharing a cup of tea with you there. Unless that's what you want.
"Where do you live?" You ask, a bit tempted by the proposition. And anyway, you need a place to sleep.
"Downtown," Jungkook replies. "We'll be there in five minutes if we go now," he smirks, trying his hardest to convince you.
It never takes too much to convince you.
"'Kay, let's go," you smile back, biting down on your lip.
·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡
When you entered his apartment, you didn't really pay attention to the decoration, you were rather more bothered by his lips on yours. The moment you stepped foot into his place, his lips were already searching for yours and you didn't refuse him.
So now he's hurriedly leading you to his bedroom, messily kissing you and roaming his hands over the curves of your body. His fingers sometimes get caught under the hem of your dress, making the flimsy material roll up over your plushy thighs.
There's no time to think, no time to ask questions. There's only a need to discover and devour your skin, only a huge desire to finally touch what he hopes will be his one day.
"Oh, be careful," he mumbles against your lips, stopping you from entering his room, his arms wrapped around your waist. "There's a step."
He swiftly lifts you up, his hands placed on the back of your thighs. He can't help but knead them, sinking his fingers into the meaty flesh.
He walks in, making you avoid all the annoying steps to his bed, the covers carelessly thrown everywhere from this morning when he got up. You continue to kiss him, your nails gracing the side of his face as you cradle him in your hands.
Soon enough he lets your back hit the soft surface of his mattress, a soft gasp escaping your lips while he crawls to you, his lips never far away from your hungry ones. He nudges your nose, attempting to connect your mouths together. He does it again and you let him have you, exchanging your saliva like it’s a sweet nectar, him a bee and you a sunflower.
Your hands on his cheeks lower to his neck where you pull on his nair, nails scratching his skin. He groans into the kiss, palming your ass very roughly, fingers sneaking under the hem of your dress.
He has the slight impression that not only your tongues are tangled, but also your souls. Bodies colliding, clashing against each other at the pace of your heartbeat. 
His knees dip into the bed on each side of your body, his arms supporting his weight beside your head. He bucks his hips against yours as you quietly moan into his mouth, feeling his growing bulge pressing down on you.
Blood rushes to his cock so fast, it's like his own brain is begging for him to just fuck you. No protection, fucking raw. Make it messy, make it unforgettable, make it so every time you're with a guy other than Jungkook you regret him.
But he takes his time. That's how he learned it; time is what a woman needs, not a prick who wants his dick wet and to get it from behind. As if doggy is a position that can make her cum.
"Fuck, I'm so..." Jungkook breathes out, his forehead laying against yours. His eyelids flutter shut as he swallows to ease his dried throat, opening his eyes again when he begins to speak. "I'm so fucking hard."
"I know," you whisper, glancing down where he grinds his bulge against your clothed pussy. "I feel it."
He groans at that and moves his hips against yours with more insistence, the material of his jeans rubbing against the soft cotton of your panties. You moan at how good it feels to have his hard cock pressing down on your clit, your hands coming down to push on his butt.
"Shit, baby," he hisses, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. He frowns cutely and looks down too, deciding to raise one of your legs up, making more room for himself. "Do you like that?" He asks, continuing to hump you as if you were both deprived horny teenagers — and he won't lie, he may still act like one sometimes.
He notices a wet patch on your panties just over your core, the area has darkened where your pussy gushes arousal out. "Oh, god- yes, Kook," you moan out, the new position creating more friction.
He almost whines at the nickname, his dick literally twitching happily in his boxers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, feeling the pace of his heart accelerating, his breath becoming irregular.
He holds your thigh up and he loves how plushy it is, how your skin looks so tender. He'd bite into it, just chew onto it to have a little taste of you.
"You smell so sweet," he states, his hot breath hitting your skin, making goosebumps run all over your skin. He kisses your neck, soft and warm, leaving a wet trail behind.
He rolls his hips against you, his erection now aching, wanting to be inside of you, but he can't seem to think about anything else than your quiet moans gracing his ears and your odour invading his nostrils.
"Jungkook," you whine, scrunching his t-shirt between your fingers, pulling on it desperately as he keeps smooching the skin of your neck.
He understands your silent request and he swiftly gets rid of his t-shirt, throwing it somewhere on his bedroom's floor. Your hands immediately travel his abs and you feel his muscles flexing under your palms.
You then pass your arms around his shoulders, bringing his lips to yours. He moans into the kiss as he keeps rubbing his hard cock against your pussy, but your little pleas make it difficult for him to focus.
He sneaks a hand between your two bodies and you grip on his hair when he reaches your puffy clit, pulsating so hard for him. "Do you want me to touch you there?" He asks in a raspy voice, his big fingers teasing your sensitive bud, his touch familiar at this point. "Hm, princess? Want me to make you feel good?"
He always finds a way to tease you even when his jeans are really tight, his cock so swollen from your dry humping session from seconds ago.
"Yes, please," you breathe out shakily, a moan escaping your mouth when he starts to draw slow, sensual circles on your clit. "Fuck, Kook." You have your mouth agape, letting out sweet moans as his digit presses down on your bud, making the knot in your stomach tighten.
He lowers his fingers to your core, feeling how soaked your panties are. "All wet for me, baby?" He purrs and you nod your head, breathless. "Good girl," he praises, a little smirk crowning his pink lips.
You pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, closing your eyes as you enjoy the pleasure he's giving you. "Faster, please, Jungkook," you beg, his finger stroking your clit sending so many tingles through your body.
So he fastens the pace of his digit, rubbing quick circles on your bud of nerves and he absolutely loves the sight of you bucking your hips against his hand, growing impatient. Your nails sink into his skin, leaving little crescent forms all over his neck. He grits his teeth at the pain, but he'll suffer through it as long as it means you're feeling pleasure.
"Yes, yes," you moan, so close to your high, your mind getting fuzzy. He doesn't stop stimulating your clit, the pad of his finger skillfully circling it over your damp underwear. "I'm gonna cum," you hurriedly say, the muscles of your thighs tensing as soon as the words leave your mouth.
Your orgasm shoots through you and you grab Jungkook's wrist, but he keeps moving his finger to drive you off your high. You tense down, hearing your heart beating in your rib cage, chest heaving rapidly.
You flutter your eyes open and they meet Jungkook's gaze. You look into each other's eyes as you slowly calm down. His hand shifts to hold your waist and you bring him in for another kiss.
You don't wait longer before sliding your panties down your legs, raising your hips up from the mattress and letting the material fall on the ground. He breaks your kiss to see your pussy totally nude, glistening in your juices. He swears it's the sexiest he's ever seen before, so cute and always so fucking wet.
He has the urge to lower down and have a taste. He could never forget your flavour, but he'd pretend to so you let him eat you out for a second time.
Exactly when he's about to devour you, you push on his chest and switch positions with him. He lets you take the top, watching you remove your dress and reveal the most intimate parts of your body to him, naked.
"You're beautiful," he compliments, the most honest he's ever been. His eyes roam over your body, scanning your breasts and your perky nipples pointing at him.
You're a pretty woman, but he wonders if his heart beating faster is really the result of your beauty or perhaps the feelings he might have for you.
"So are you," you smile, giggling when Jungkook's still staring at you with hearts in his eyes.
He's brought back to reality when you place yourself on your stomach between his legs. "What... What are you doing?" He swallows, his big brown eyes settled on you.
"Returning the favour," you respond, passing your finger on his stomach just over the band of his Calvin Klein's that peeks out of his pants. "Would you like that, Kook?"
"Yeah," he mutters under his breath, watching closely the movements of your hands, slowly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You undress him from his pair of jeans and socks, coming back up to his crotch after.
He parts his legs wider for you and you lay a hand over his bulge, feeling how hard he is just for you. "You're so big, Jungkook..." You say in astonishment, visibly really pleased with his girth.
You palm him over his boxers, closing your hand around him, imagining how it'd be without his underwear on.
"Hm-mh." Jungkook passes his fingers through your hair, making you look up at him. "Think you can handle it, baby?"
You squeeze your grip on him, which results in him hissing. He's really sensitive, especially when he's been sporting a boner for quite a while now.
Though nothing will compare to the time you left him just after he made you cum on his tongue. He sucked it up, but fuck, nobody told him before how complicated it was to drive with an erection. It's really distracting. Luckily, his work was done, so he could go straight home, but still.
He had to jack off in the shower, thinking about you and how your pussy would close around him so tightly.
"I'll try," you smile.
You pull down his boxers, leaving them just below his ass, and his cock springs up, the head slapping down on his stomach. He lets out a sigh of relief, finally free from his briefs.
You wrap your fingers around him, looking so small compared to his penis, and bring him up to your lips. His tip is glistening in his pre-cum and it twitches in your hand, just so happy to see you.
Jungkook hasn't shaved, he didn't expect any of this to happen after all. He hopes you don't mind, but you don't seem to, quite the contrary even.
You start to gently and slowly pump him, passing the pad of your thumb over the little slit, spreading his arousal over his length. You leave a kiss on the head and he wonders if you're not getting revenge for all the times he teased you.
You tilt your head to the side and kiss his length all the way up to finally open your mouth and insert the tip in. Jungkook curses under his breath, taking a handful of your hair in his fist, making your scalp itch.
You keep eye-contact with him as you lower down, gradually taking all of him in the warmth of your mouth. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good around me," he moans, looking at you with lustful eyes. He can't take his eyes off of you, he's literally hypnotized by the way your lips slide so smoothly over his hard cock.
You hum, the sound a bit muffled by his dick in your mouth. Tears start to form in your eyes, throat burning as you get used to his size and the stretch of your mouth.
When you've reached his base, nose touching his pelvis, you gag around him, but manage to make the feeling go away. Jungkook believes he's in heaven right now, having his cock nestled deep in your mouth, some strands of hair falling down in front of your eyes.
You blink several times, trying to see clearer, but the water makes your vision fuzzy. "It's okay, princess," he sighs pleasantly, seeing that you struggle, your throat starting to burn badly. You gag another time and he has to concentrate if he doesn't want to cum right now. "Shit... Don't- don't force yourself," he hisses, pulling your head up.
His cock falls back down on his tummy, hearing a wet slap since he's entirely covered in your saliva. You catch your breath and wipe your lips with the back of your hand, immediately taking him back in your hand.
You stroke him, running your palm up and down his girthy length. You swallow to ease your throat and glance up at him with teary eyes. He pouts, cupping your cheeks and swiping his thumbs under your eyes to get the little pearls away.
"You don't have to take everything... I'm already happy to have you with me," he admits and he hopes his words don't scare you away. You don't know each other for that long, but sometimes he just has to be honest about his feelings.
You smile, nodding your head in response. He moans when you take him back into your mouth, flattening your tongue underneath him. He knits his eyebrows together as you bob your head over him, a hand wrapped around his base.
His short nails dig into your scalp, making you wince, but it doesn't make you stop. Jungkook lets out heavy breaths and moans, his hand gripping your hair and guiding you over his wet cock.
His other hand, his tattooed one, scrunches the bedsheets in his fist, the pleasure too good it becomes overwhelming. His eyes are strained down on you and every time your gazes meet, his heart skips a beat.
It feels too good to be true, yet here you are, pleasuring him like nobody else's ever did. You both like to give and he hopes it won't make sex difficult between you two. Well, if it ever happens again, which he really wishes it will.
"Yeah, just like that," he approves when you hollow your cheeks, continuing to bounce your head over his stiff erection. "Such a good girl," he adds on and loosens his grip on your hair, delicately patting you instead.
You almost purr under all the sweet praises he tells you, loving how he makes you feel confident and proud of yourself. Your free hand is laying on his thighs, sensing his muscles tensing and calming down each time he controls himself to last longer.
But even though he tries his best to not shoot his cum into you right now, your mouth does wonders and his orgasm is approaching really fast.
"I'm not gonna last long, baby," he warns you in a breathy voice. "Shit," he curses, sucking air through his teeth and feeling his balls tightening. Your tongue is so warm and wet, he can't resist you any longer.
You pull out and stroke his length, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. It breaks as you lick them, fucking Jungkook with your fist. He groans, gritting his teeth, and his grip on the covers tightens, signs that his high is really close now.
He curls his toes, the burning sensation at the pit of his stomach growing. "Holy fuck," he spits out profanities and his cock twitches, hot cum spilling out from his red, swollen tip.
You moan with him, turned on by the sight of him releasing himself on your hand. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, all of his muscles flexing as you milk him dry.
"Oh, god, Kook," you coo, lazily stroking his cock and caressing his thigh to make him relax. "There's so much," you comment, literally amazed.
Jungkook opens his eyes and looks down at his crotch, seeing your hand still wrapped around him completely covered in his cum. He bites down on his lip at the view, even more aroused when you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick the remains.
"Shit, you fucking minx," he says, but there's no intention to insult you, he's just so down bad for you.
It makes you giggle, encouraging you to do something even nastier. You sit on your knees and spread his cum on your tits, circling your nipples with your fingers.
Jungkook smiles, his affection for you growing, and takes a hold of your jaw, pulling you in for a long, sloppy kiss. You moan into his mouth, his cock brushing against your pussy, still hard and ready to wreck you.
"You have no idea what I want to do to you," he groans, looking into your eyes like they are the whole galaxy, endless so he can lose himself in them.
"Do what you need to do to me," you allow, offering yourself to him and more if he desires to.
When those words leave your mouth, he picks you up and gets up from his bed, your legs locked behind his back. You gasp when he pins you against the nearest wall, placing your arms around his large shoulders, holding onto him tightly.
"You sure? Because we're only done when I say so," he breathes onto your face, his forehead against yours, bangs slightly damp from his sweat.
"One-hundred percent sure," you grin, but lose your smile as soon as he pushes his cock into your pussy, ripping a loud moan out of you.
Your nails dig into the skin of his back to give him some of the pain he's inflicting to you by penetrating you with his big cock. He holds you up against him, his hands on your ass, touching you so sensually and lovingly, appreciating every part of your body.
He sinks his dick into your pussy, sliding in so easily without any restraint, cunt absolutely soaking wet. "God, pussy's so fucking tight," he rasps out, finally bottoming out into you. His balls touch your ass, his pelvis flushed against yours, meaning he's completely in.
You whine, feeling absolutely full, pussy clenching helplessly around him. Jungkook doesn't wait — he can't anymore — and starts pounding into you, his balls slapping against your skin. The room smells like sex, it's strong and quite obvious, but he easily ignores it, he practically can't even smell it.
He slides his cock in and out of your pussy, making you moan sweetly, a beautiful melody to his ears. He doesn't hold himself back and fucks you hard against the wall, but you're nowhere near against it, you're loving it.
Your boobs jiggle on your chest because of Jungkook's harsh thrusts, both of your skins glistening under the light of his bedroom, covered in a thin layer of sweat.
"I'm so full, Kook," you moan softly and he can't look away from you, finding you so pretty and sexy.
"Yeah? Full of my big cock, baby?" He asks, darting out his tongue to wet his dried lips, passing over his piercings.
"Yes," you cry, breaking eye-contact as you close your eyes, head rolling back and hitting the wall behind you.
His hips are powerful, never missing a beat and brushing over your sweet spot repeatedly. Your pussy has adjusted to the size of his girth, some of your wetness dripping down to your butt and coating his balls that slap against you.
He pushes some of his cum into you as well, the rest you haven't licked off your fingers or spread on your tits. He still can't believe you did that, but god, did he find it hot. He never thought you playing with his cum would turn him on so much. He sure will think about this moment when he's going to be alone with himself.
His eyes shift down to your bouncing breasts and he has to put one in his mouth, even if it means tasting a bit of himself too.
He catches one nipple with lips, wrapping them around your hardened bud. You moan his name and pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing his head down toward your chest.
It sends more tingles to your belly, your walls closing around him tightly. He lets out a grunt, knowing his orgasm will come close if you continue clenching around him as if you want to suck him up.
"Jungkook!" You exclaim when he turns you both around, walking back to his bed. He lays your back down on the mattress, still in you, and continues his assault, snapping his hips against yours.
He pushes up your thighs over your stomach, getting a better view and access to your pussy. "Take my cock, baby. Be a good girl for me," he says, completely obsessed with you and your cunt. If you weren't made for you, he doesn't know how he'll trust life again.
Putting you on his way just to get rid of you... No, if you're not his, you're nobody else's and if he's not yours, then he doesn't know what life is fucking worth.
"Yes, yes, Jungkook," you confirm in a moan, or maybe your brain is too mushy to find something else to answer.
You place two fingers on each side of your hole where Jungkook keeps pounding in, watching his cock entering and exiting your sloppy cunt. You pull on your pussy lips, feeling the knot at the pitch of your stomach tightening again, a more intense orgasm waiting for you.
You bring a finger to your clit and begin to draw fast circles on it, impatient to feel the burning and euphoric sensation of your upcoming orgasm. Jungkook moans at the sight, making him more desperate to reach his high as well.
"Shit, close, princess?" He questions and you nod repeatedly, humming in agreement. "Me too..." He states, breathless and chest heaving rapidly.
He's tired, but somehow he still has the energy to fuck you. Honestly, fucking you might be the only thing he'll never get tired of, that's for sure. It's so addicting, so good, he simply can't get enough.
"Please, please, Kook. Faster," you beg, even though he's already going at a quick pace that will probably leave the skin of your thighs sore and bruised.
You stroke your clit from side to side and he pounds you so hard it makes you dizzy and kind of drunk off the hormones you're both releasing.
He hits your magic spot multiple times, eliciting loud moans of pleasure out of you, your eyes rolling back. "Yes, like that," you cry, the last thing you say before your thighs start shaking.
Your back lifts up from the mattress when your orgasm hits you, passing through you like a tsunami, leaving you out of breath. Your pussy clenches around Jungkook and he's so close, too.
He drives his cock into you, making you whine in overstimulation, and he feels the familiar burning sensation in his stomach. "Oh, fuck, baby," he moans and slips out of you rapidly, jerking himself off just over your quivering pussy. "Gonna cum."
With a last thrust of his hand, he cums on your cunt, making a dirty mess on you. You moan when ropes of white cum land on your pussy, dribbling down to your hole and ass.
Finally, little beads spurt out of his cock, falling on your sex. You collect some on your fingers, pushing them in you and Jungkook watches with lazy eyes, slowly pumping his cock to drive off his high.
He picks you up and places you both side by side on the bed, recovering from the heated session of sex you just experienced. He lies on his back while you're cuddled up to his side, one hand on his chest.
He turns his head in your direction and you're already smiling at him, drawing little forms on his stomach, following the lines of his abs. "Was good," you whisper.
"Yeah," Jungkook agrees, frowning slightly, wondering if maybe, potentially you share the same feelings as him.
The next morning, you dress yourself back up, having taken a fresh shower while Jungkook was still sleeping. He watches you putting back on your dress, his arms crossed behind his head.
When you're done, you spin around and face him. "What about..." You begin, a playful smile gracing your lips. "You call me soon?"
He looks at you, taking a moment to answer, just admiring the happiness you radiate. He compares your mood of when he's found you sitting on the stairs at the party to the one of this morning and he tells himself that you're feeling better because of him.
If you can both make each other happy, he doesn't see why you two can't work — as friends or more, it doesn't matter as long as he's the reason why you have a smile on your face.
"Sure."
·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡
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part 1: call me later ☼ part 2: call me soon ☾ part 3: call me tomorrow ☼
3K notes · View notes
senseichaos · 3 months
Note
.... Consensual somnophilia w/ luci? 🥺👉👈
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As you wish, my lovely anon and non-anon!
_____
IMAGINE
(longer imagine)
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A thing Lucifer has always been into, with and without your knowledge is Somnophilia. The idea that he could use you whilst you lay asleep beneath him.
At first Lucifer was not exactly proud of this fact though, so for the first years of your relationship he said nothing about it. His daddy kink? Yeah he'll tell you about that. But for some reason this specific kink was just.. so embarrassing to him.
Until one day when you were the one to admit you like the idea of being fucked in your sleep, and you didn't miss the sparkling in Lucifers red irises. In a moment he was laughing about how stupid he was for thinking you would be weirded out by this kink- especially when you've been together for 3 years at this point.
So you both made a system. Whenever you went to sleep with his favorite shirt of yours, an oversized pink shirt with a duck in the middle, he was allowed to use you.
And today is the first day you've worn it. Lucifer was just washing up after your dinner and came back to your figure half beneath the covers wearing that pink duck shirt. Rather immediately that feeling of arousal came over him like a sound wave. One moment he was fine, the other moment his cock is hardening from arousal.
Slowly he crawls onto the red sheets, eyeing your thigh as it pokes from the covers above you. He has to be careful about this, because if it's up to him he doesn't want you to awaken until his cock is nestled inside of you.
He pulls the sheets from you carefully, thanking the gods that you are laying on your back so the act will be easier. Fuck he can't even begin to take his eyes from you. You aren't wearing any pants! Pussy nice and ready for him as if you had fingered yourself just before you fell asleep, which he assumes you did judging from the wetness on the sheets beneath you.
His duckling even readied herself for him! He could almost imagine you fingering yourself open for him, scissoring your fingers inside of yourself as your wetness coats your fingers, biting your lip as you try your hardest to keep your moans quiet so you don't spoil the surprise. Oh, how he doesn't deserve this from you. He doesn't deserve to have you laying here fast asleep ready for his cock. But he'll take what he's being given from you because he needs it more than he likes to admit.
"My precious duckling, awe.. how cute," He says to your sleeping figure, dragging his hand through his hair as he looks down at the obvious erection in his trousers. Grinning to himself he unbuttons his trousers and lowers the fly down, before pulling them off completely and discarding them across the room (happening to land on a pile of his rubber ducks).
Then he removes his shirt, unbuttoning it and slowly letting it fall off himself to the floor next to the bed.
All that is left is the blue boxers with the rubber duck pattern across it, obvious erection poking into the fabric. It almost hurts, the hardness of his cock poking so harshly into the right fabric of his boxers.
He dips his hand into the fabric and wraps his hand around his shaft, pulling it from his boxers with a satisfying 'plap' against his abdomen. He should really take his boxers off too, and he knows this. But he can't stop himself anymore. You're in your most pliant state, so in a rash and quick movement he places one hand next to your head to hold himself up whilst the other positions his shaft into you.
In a slow push he sinks his shaft into you, watching your soft sleeping face as it reacts to the pressure of him inside of you. He places a soft hand at your hip, massaging the skin hypnotically as he continues to push his hips forward until his entire length is buried to the hilt inside of your tight hole.
He can't conceal that heavy groan that leaves him, his eyes completely set onto your face. That pretty fucking face of yours as he ruins it.
He serves you a harsh thrust, immediately setting a ravenous and hungry pace with his hips. He can't help it, watching your face as it awakens with a gasp, lashes fluttering as you familiarize yourself with your surroundings and the situation you're in.
"Gh, daddy.." you whimper, eyes soft and teary as you look up to his own. He smiles softly, yet doesn't break his thrusts as he purrs into your ear: "Shh shh, my duckling. Go back to sleep, daddy will be done soon he pwomises," he finishes his sentence with a teasing cute tone, giving you a short grind before going straight back to those hard and almost painful thrusts.
He watches as you nod softly, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax under his hand. Each thrust sends you into a sort of trance, especially when being awoken to daddy's cock fucking into you at such a pace.
"Fuck, my good little duckling. Hm? Yeah, so good letting daddy use you like this," he says, sharp teethed smile glinting with his dominant demeanor. You only reply with a small tired whimper, slightly strangled under the pleasure he gives you.
The hand he has on your hip quickly moves to your thigh, pushing it down so it's pressed against yourself in such a way to give him more leverage with his thrusts. He watches your brows furrow tiredly, a gasp for air coming from your cute plush lips. The pleasure is too much for you, and you are beginning to feel that knot inside you coil so hard it begs to release.
"cum.. please, daddy.. m' need to cum," you beg at his mercy, not opening your eyes and whispering it so quietly Lucifer is happy he heard you at all beneath the sounds of his skin against your own.
"Cum for me, cum on Daddy's cock duckling. Do it," he says, thrusting slightly quicker as you let out a strangled whine. You release strongly, pussy clenching around him so hard his own orgasm begs to release itself.
"Fuck, so good and sleepy for me, hm? Daddy's gonna cum now, okay? Yeah," He says, hardly even thinking about his words as his eyes flutter closed with pleasure, giving you one last thrust before he cums, grinding himself into you as he empties into you.
"good, duckling.. shit.."
But you'd already fallen back asleep. He wonders if he can go again.
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