#ty queen you fucked up a lot but you got that right at least

[lillybean730]

the funny thing about being twins is that people love dressing you in matching outfits

#not my mom tho she wanted us to be treated as separate people and not a unit #ty queen you fucked up a lot but you got that right at least #well our halloween costumes were usually a matched set as babies #like i was a bee and he was a honeypot #but that's just one day and when we were old enough to pick our own costumes she let us be different from each other #tho it did give us the classic family inside joke: *said in a high pitched pouty voice* 'i dont wanna be a honeypot' >:| #not as funny over text tho #anyway i love being a twin #ive been told that twins have a different relationship than other siblings but honestly i wouldn't know i dont have any others #also ive been told that after we were born the put us in the same crib but on opposite sides #and every time they looked away we would somehow end up closer to each other so we could touch #turns out we were wiggling towards each other even tho we shouldn't have been able to do that #we were weird ass babies tho i hated hats and gloves and decided to develop some motor skills a bit early just to remove them #ugh sorry for rambling im just trying to distract myself #is it weird that this feels almost like they're dying #I know they aren't but it feels like that sort of grief

[deconstructthesoup]

It's Black Friday, which means I'm, of course, thinking about Starkid... and I have a theory that the specific order that the LiB are always listed in (Pokotho, Bliklotep, T'noy Karaxis, Nibblephem, Wiggoth Y'Wrath) are, in fact, the order of how powerful they are, from least to greatest.

Let's start with Pokey. Now, on the surface, yeah, being able to completely take over people and turn them into hollow shells that speak your voice may be pretty damn powerful, but I think this actually works to the LiB's detriment. Think back to what Hidgens said, way back in TGWDLM---the existence of the hivemind would result in world peace, because if they're all under one mind, one "Singular Voice," there's nothing to fight about... but the LiB are all about sowing chaos, driving people to ruin. And if Pokey takes over everyone, there's nobody left to mess with. Even Webby outright compares Pokey to the rest of his brothers, which speaks a lot to how they see him---short-sighted, close-minded, and probably a little selfish. (I could also bring up the fact that unlike the others, he seems a lot more serious and even somber in his infliction, tying into his stone-face mask, but that's a whole other thing.) He's also, interestingly enough, one of two LiB who weren't introduced by way of Sniggles---even Nibbly got a little song from two of them after he did his Honey Queen munching---so maybe that means something? Idk.

Blinky definitely seems to have a good deal of power, if the horrors going on in Watcher World are anything to go by, but it also seems kinda... limited. From what we can see (heh), Blinky just operates out of this theme park, and unlike the others? He actually got defeated. Alice and Bill broke out of the effects, flooded Watcher World, and made it out with their bond strengthened rather than broken. Compare this with Pokey succeeding in taking over the world in TGWDLM---even if he failed later in Yellow Jacket---Tinky easily pulling the rug out from Ted's feet in Time Bastard, Nibbly snacking on Linda without so much as a second thought in Honey Queen, and Wiggly fucking starting a nuclear war in Black Friday despite his cult getting defeated and him not actually manifesting, you gotta wonder... what's up with Blinky failing? But I think his human look in NPMD speaks to that---it's a very laid-back look, and I saw someone suggest that he (or she, here, I guess) is trying to emulate the type of teen who's just there to chill, sit back, and watch TV. Maybe Blinky's whole deal is that he's fairly passive, and just wants to watch the chaos happen while he nudges some folks in the right direction. I could be completely wrong, of course.

Now, Tinky as the brother who's smack-dab in the middle actually makes a lot of sense. His domain is time itself---that's nothing to sneeze at! He's incredibly devious, and he always seems to get what he wants! His specialty is driving people insane! But when you look at the fact that he seems a little too chaotic, even for his brothers, and the fact that his eldritch form is, uh... kinda tame, since it's literally just a yellow goat, you have to wonder if Tinky suffers from middle-child syndrome. He's powerful, sure, but he's weird. Either he gets overlooked or he's just there to be along for the ride---I'm just guessing this based on the fact that he had, like two lines in The Summoning, even though he's probably the reason the messed-up timeline in Hatchetfield exists. He's just the crazy middle child, and honestly? That works. Good for him.

Nibbly, I think, is the only LiB (aside from our tentacle boi) who is explicitly stated to be considered "unique," with a power set that automatically puts him on a different level than a lot of his brothers. He's the only one who can regularly manifest in our reality, which makes him the only one who can physically affect the real world---and sure, that means eating pagent winners, but it could also mean a shitton of other things. It's kind of amazing that with his constant hunger and the power to manifest on Earth once a year, he only limits himself to one sacrifice... and maybe that's the point. Maybe the sacrifice only exists because Nibbly used to use that night to cause as much devastation as possible, and he's calmed down since then. Which, uh... yeah, scary thought.

And, yeah, Wiggly is obvious. He's in charge, he makes the decisions, he's always revered over the others---it's pretty clear that he's the most powerful brother, and though everything he does in Black Friday speaks to that, I have a feeling that we don't actually know the extent of Wiggly's true power... and maybe, that's the point. The other LiB get clear-cut domains---control, surveillance, time, and hunger, with not a lot of room for wiggle room, if you'll forgive the pun---but for Wiggly, it's not so obvious. We know that his line in The Summoning is "Wiggly wants his wrath," but it's not just wrath that he preys on. In Black Friday, he uses what people want to become strong, quite literally marketing himself as the solution to all of their problems. In NPMD, he asks Steph, Pete, and Grace for the thing they cherish. He's not just wrath, but greed and desire, and that adds a punch. Also, that extra bit of complexity makes him line up perfectly as a devil figure.

And considering all of this, you have to wonder---where does Webby fall in all of this? Is she stronger than her brothers, and it's just that they outnumber her, or is she weaker? Is she older or younger (this might've been answered, I'm not as caught up on livestream lore as some may be)? Is it just her in the White, or does she have sisters? She's described as "A Queen in White," not "The Queen in White," which points to there maybe being more, but why haven't we seen more? Why is it just Webby fighting against her brothers, and why can't she do more?

*pauses*

Wow. Okay. Jesus, that got away from me.

Anyways, the Hatchetfield saga has super cool horror worldbuilding

#starkid #hatchetfield #tgwdlm #team starkid #black friday starkid #nerdy prudes must die #the lords in black #wiggog y'wrath #nibblenephim #bliklotep #pokotho #t'noy karaxis #webby hatchetfield

[liesmyth]

one thing i would love to know in atn is what the relationship was between earth and the rest of the planets was!

like, all the planets had life on them (if im remembering john's soul explaination correctly: a soul is the complex arrangement of thalergy produced by a collection of living organsims, so just like billions of cells make a human soul, billions of life forms make up a planet soul) but obviously only earth had 'complex' life.

were the other planets jealous, indifferent, or proud? would a planet like mars, which shows traces of past water, feel envious that earth was just in the right place, had just the collisions to set things into motion? or would it be proud that at least someone got to have fun?

and then earth's newest children turn around and fuck her up. not all of them, obviously, but to a planet, especially one of jupiter's magnitude, to-may-to sounds no different to to-mah-to. or does it?

i just *clenches fist* want to know about the guilt the RB's have. because varun considers what it has done reprehensible ('we who were murdered and we who murder' and 'i have poisioned the universe to match my grief') and when you consider that other complex life IS possible on other planets but could quite literally be all gone now because of hungry ghosts that want to honour complex life's memory (both john and the rbs), then you have got to wonder how varun feels when it chows down on a thriving planet.

and!!!! how does varun feel about love!!! its only points of reference for it are judith (as shown by how their thoughts can bleed into each other when marta is brought up) and john. john is very obviously about consumption, and varun is the eater, but judith is the queen of repression; would varun believe an equally important part of human love is starvation on other's behalf?

this blorbo (blue orbo) drives me nuts man. and its literally an asshole joke <3

(cough cough. if you want a fic where varun becomes judith's wingman, you should read the binding)

I unironically LOVE Varun this hungry ghost who's possibly the best brother in the universe. Nobody else has spent that long trying to find their little sister to check up on her, surely?

"I have poisoned the universe to match my grief" is one of THE most badass lines in NtN. Thinking of how Augustine says that if the RBs were physically they would "leave flatted galaxies in their wake," but instead they feed on planets, murdering them before the lyctors can, unless the lyctors get there first, and the end result is a deserted universe anyway.

Also! My #just vibes hc is that planetary souls don't necessarily show up because a planet has life, but because of the potential for life. There's no life on Venus but in TLT Venus was still able to host a human population, after a lot of tinkering. All the planets the RB stumble on end up absorbed, and I'm reasonably sure that all planets the lyctors kill have a "small" revenant, even if there's no biosphere. Anyway; Alecto clearly was the "most developed" and I wonder if it made her more aware.

I'm always thinking about this post about how Alecto bestowed powers on John to save humanity, not Earth; there were billions of living beings that would never have been impacted by humanity's extinction, but she decided she couldn't tolerate it, she had to do something. All for love :)

(ty for the fic rec! can't wait to check it out)

#GOOD BRO VARUN <3 WHAT A GUY. A 50M KM GHOST #ask #anonymous #varun the eater

[snackhobi]

pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 9.1k / genre: smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 

but there’s only so much you can resist park jimin, especially once he gets that peach involved.

warnings: sexually explicit content, Jimin being completely shameless/a lowkey ho, messy peach eating, mentions of masturbation, oral sex (m + f receiving), overstimulation, protected sex, multiple orgasms (f), dirty talk and some cursing, hmm I think that’s it?

a/n: I was so close to calling this ‘jimin and the f*cking peach’ as some terrible homage to ‘james and the giant peach’ 😂🤧 as always I would like to thank @hobi-gif for beta reading this, putting up with me having a meltdown at her, and encouraging me to write smut at work rather than doing my job, ty queen xoxo

--

It’s official. Park Jimin is the neighbour from hell.

He’d tricked you, to start with. With those cherubic features, those doe eyes, and his cute little smile? He looks like an angel. A sweet, innocent angel, one who’d knocked shyly on your door and presented you with a small selection of chocolates when he’d moved into the apartment next to yours. Your heart had gone boom boom at the sight of that cute smile, the slip of teeth, the way his lovely face had scrunched up. 

Nowadays, whenever you see that face, you want to punch it.

Well. Not punch it. Maybe slap it a little. Because Park Jimin is a fiend. 

Your studio apartment is cheap for many reasons. The plumbing is creaky and the heating isn’t exactly great but those are small sacrifices for such low rent—ones you’re willing to make. Creaking doesn’t bother you and throw blankets exist for a reason, right? You get a balcony and a parking spot, which is more than you can say for a lot of other places in this price range, so you’ll take the negatives for these positives.

But you’d give up all the things you love about this cheap flat for some sound proofing.

Because Park Jimin fucks. 

A lot. 

He’d been nothing but lovely for the first few weeks. You’d barely been aware of his existence, minus when you could hear him in the bathroom—your flats are mirrored, rooms sharing walls, so you’d been washing your face when you’d heard his shower start up and then the sound of his dulcet tones drifting through the wall. That had actually been really nice; Jimin can hit some high notes, and it had been a pleasant backdrop as you’d cleansed your face. It had been another bullet point you’d added to the list of things you thought were cute about him (along with his face, his laugh, his smile), and you’d stupidly started to develop a tiny little crush on this boy-next-door, thinking him some soft, kind thing.

But then he’d started to have people over.

You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve had to listen to the moans and gasps that echo through your walls. You can’t escape from it. As a freelance programmer, you’re pretty much always working from home, so it’s not like you can get away from the sounds of pleasure that shudder through Jimin’s flat and into your own.

It’s never consistent, either. There’s not a single hour of the day that’s off limits to Park Jimin. Morning, afternoon, night; the boy is always ready to go, apparently. And judging from the sounds through the walls? He never leaves anyone unsatisfied either.

Which, like, fine. People fuck. You get it. You’re not judging. You just wish it wasn’t so loud. You have to sleep, for God’s sake. But it’s not like you can knock on a new neighbour’s door and be like hey, I appreciate you have an incredibly active sex life, but can you keep it down, please?

So you’d bit your tongue. You’d gritted your teeth to bear it. You’d still smile at Jimin if you ever passed in the hallway, acknowledged him with a small nod, exchanged pleasantries, all the neighbourly stuff that you’d do with anyone. You’d just invested in some good earplugs and thought that was it.

And then Jimin had started doing his morning yoga routine outside. 

You start each day with a cup of tea on your balcony, watering your hydrangeas and enjoying the dawn sun that lifts up over the horizon alongside your plants. It’s a small, singular moment of quiet in an otherwise dull day and you treasure that serenity.

Well. Treasured. Past tense. Because Jimin has invaded this part of your life, too.

The first time Jimin had unrolled his yoga mat on the balcony adjacent to yours, he’d been dressed in a deceptively unassuming outfit—a loose white t-shirt and leggings that hugged every inch of his calves and thighs and shapely ass, which you had pointedly Not Looked At. He’d tilted his head at you with a smug little smile flickering at the edge of his lips, and when he’d greeted you good morning, you’d responded in turn, even if you were still annoyed at how he’d interrupted your afternoon nap the day before with the sound of his headboard smacking into the wall repeatedly. You were still fairly new neighbours and you still felt like you had to be polite, even if he was starting to fray your nerves.

And then he’d started to bend. 

Now, you’ll be the first to admit that you don’t know much about yoga. But you’d swear Jimin was choosing poses that did the utmost to display his flexibility, the flex of his muscles and twist of his limbs, balancing his body on his arms before easing into a pose that had him bent in two, head towards his toes—and with how he had his back to you this meant you got full glimpse of his ass, straining against his leggings, the way his loose shirt slipped up his body to reveal the lines of his stomach and chest, how his face was still twisted into that little smirk even if it was upside down.

Staring at you.

You’d promptly stopped watering your hydrangeas and walked inside your flat, shutting the sliding door behind you.

Jimin is relentless.

He’s pretty and he knows it. All that shy, new-kid-on-the-block innocence he’d had initially is completely gone, and all he does is flirt, flirt, flirt. He winks at you. Stands a little too close whenever you talk. Lets his eyes flicker down to your lips, trail over every inch of you, lashes fluttering when he catches you watching, unashamed and unabashed. He frequently just… hangs around on his balcony. Not topless, no, but he may as well be, his thotty muscle tees doing nothing to hide him from your eyes.

(The worst thing, though, is when you catch him unawares. When he’s tired and clearly not expecting you to be awake, too, his eyes sleepy and his hair ruffled; a little vulnerable, a lot softer than he usually presents himself. Curled up on the small seat on his balcony with a hot drink in his hand, phone in the other, his screen throwing blue-tinted light over the easing lines of his features.

You wish Jimin was like that all the time. But the second he sees you, his eyes flicker, and his brows lift, and his mouth curls, and once again you rue the day you had a fuckboy move in next door to you.)

It’s not that Jimin isn’t hot. It’s not that you wouldn’t fuck him, either. But you have no interest in being some sort of convenient hook-up for him, purely there by circumstance, fate, whatever you want to call it. You dread to think of him sending you haha wyd x texts whenever he feels like having sex and you just happen to be nearby. So you weather all of his obvious come-ons and swerve him something chronic, even if he seems intent on making his attraction to you obvious.

You’ve been managing it for months. But as time goes on, your patience wears thinner and thinner, an atom-thick layer of fortitude the only thing keeping you from grabbing Park Jimin and kissing him and/or killing him. It doesn’t help that you haven’t fucked for a while now, and you’re reminded of this every time you hear another pornstar moan through the wall (the people Jimin brings home seem to like hamming it up for effect), every time you see another mosaic of hickeys laid across the column of Jimin’s gorgeous throat, every time you see the way his yoga outfits do nothing to protect the delicious shape of his body from your eyes.

You dig your fingers into your palms. It’s fine. It’s okay. You can handle Park Jimin and his overt sexual energy, oozing out of him almost every second of every day.

It’s a little harder to handle how he still seems sweet despite his fuckboy nature. How he picks your parcels up for you. How he lets you use his laundry detergent when you run out. How he lets you keep food in his fridge when yours breaks down and you have to wait for a replacement. How he sheds that fuckboy facade whenever it seems like you genuinely need help, how you’ve heard his soft phone calls through the wall, to his friends, his family, sweet and kind and supportive.

Park Jimin is a multi-dimensional being, for sure, and maybe you sometimes wish he was actually genuinely interested in you as a person and not as a lay, so you could peel back those layers to the lovely core at the centre of his being.

But it’s fine. You can handle this stupid yearning and pining. You can handle the knowledge that Park Jimin is a genuine gentleman who just happens to like fucking, is open in his desire for it, and is apparently Very Good at it. It’s difficult, but you can do it.

You can do it.

The date you set up with someone from Tinder ends up being disappointing and lacklustre. You’d escaped before dessert, unable to put up with one more second of this asshole going on and on about stocks, and investments, and trading, or whatever, cursing the day you’d decided to swipe on him. You’re so sick of your luck (or lack thereof) with guys. (At least the food had been nice.)

Of course Jimin sees you schlepping your way back into your apartment, disappointment obvious in the line of your shoulders and lips; it doesn’t take a genius to clock your date outfit, cute as it is, makeup and hair soft. But the night has barely begun and here you are, stepping back into your flat. Alone. 

“Bad date?” Jimin asks, voice gentle, and you just snort.

“Just like the rest of them,” you reply with a small sigh, before shutting your door quietly behind you, missing the look on your neighbour’s face.

Jimin, to his credit, eases off after this. You’re not sure if it’s due to a misplaced sense of pity or something, but even if he still smiles and flirts lightly with you, it’s less… salacious. Still there, still obvious, just a little softer. You hate how this has you feeling grateful towards him, because he’s still got so many fuckboy tendencies that it should outweigh this gentler side of his flirtation, but your traitorous heart still goes gooey every time Jimin smiles at you.

But then. 

But then.

There’s that fucking peach.

You’re just chilling on your balcony, sipping at a glass of lemonade in the warmth of the afternoon when you hear Jimin’s door sliding open. You flick your eyes over at the sound, watching the way Jimin slips out onto his own balcony, how he throws something up in the air and catches it with ease, a flick of the wrist, a curl of the fingers each time he catches it again.

He hasn’t had any fuckbuddies over for a while. A few weeks, almost a month. It’s the longest Jimin’s gone without having sex for as long as he’s started having people over and you’d been sort of concerned. Which, yeah, you know it sounds super weird when you think about it, especially considering how much you complain about Jimin to your friends—help, my fuckboy neighbour hasn’t fucked anyone in nearly a month so I’m worried if his dick has fallen off or something.

(Well, actually, you know his dick is still attached, based off the little gasps and moans he lets out whenever he pleasures himself in lieu of fucking someone else. You’ll take this secret to the grave but those noises that Jimin lets out have been the melody you use to reach your own peaks, although you’re a lot quieter than he is whenever you touch yourself, biting your lip and muffling the wet sounds of your fingers thrusting into your cunt under layers of blankets. You’d never give Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that the mental image of him fucking into his fist and cumming over his stomach and chest is what throws you over your own edge, toe-curling orgasms that shake through your body in time with Jimin’s own.)

Anyway. He looks loose limbed and relaxed when he saunters into view, utterly unsurprised by your presence behind your window box of hydrangeas, giving you his usual, sultry smile. 

He’s started to ramp up his flirtations again. This smirk is one which you’ve learned not to respond to. You just stare levelly back at him, unimpressed as you start to water your flowers, which does nothing to dissuade him. It never does. He clearly revels in the challenge.

Jimin keeps his eyes locked with yours as he lifts his hand to his lips. You catch a glimpse of what he was throwing and catching—a ripe, flush peach, tiny droplets of water shimmering on its fuzz, freshly washed.

And then he starts to eat it.

The peach yields immediately to the press of his teeth. Juice bursts out of its softness, running down his lips, his chin; he makes no moves to wipe it away, the lewd sound of his slurps as he curls his tongue into the fruit, messy and sweet.

It’s shameless. He’s shameless. His gaze is unwavering as he stares at you, his mouth glistening with the peach’s juices, the only sound the wet smack of his lips and tongue as he licks up the honeyed liquid that drips from his skin, curving around the fruit as he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing.

Water’s been trickling from your small can onto the hydrangeas, cascading over the plants; the soil is waterlogged now, but you haven’t noticed, fixated on the way Jimin is looking at you as he wantonly eats out this peach.

Drip drip, goes the watering can.

Drip drip, goes the peach.

By the time there’s nothing more than the pit in his hand, Jimin is a mess. His fingers and mouth and chin shine with peach juice, eyes dark and heavy as he watches the way you drink the sight of him in, the way his tongue slowly drags over his full lips, catching the sweetness that lingers.

The second he puts his tongue to his fingers to get the stickiness on them, that’s it. You watch the way he sucks his fingers into his mouth and promptly put the watering can down and turn on your heel to walk inside, slamming the balcony door shut behind you.

You’re done. You’re only human. You’ve spent months with Jimin parading himself in front of you, seen the way he contorts his body every morning in an unnecessarily complex sun salutation, listened to the way his voice rises when he cums; the peach is the metaphorical cherry on top, and you’re just. Over. It. 

You hammer your palms against your neighbour's door, rap-rap-rapping on the wood, your blood rising and your heart thudding in your chest, every part of you tense, wound up, pent up. The door swings open to reveal Jimin, his chin still slick with sweet peach, lips curling up in a self-satisfied smile when he sees you.

“Park Jimin.” Your voice shakes and you hate yourself for it, hate the way Jimin’s eyes glitter at the sound, the little hitch in your breath. “You are a fucking menace, you know that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. He leans against the doorframe, effortlessly gorgeous, hip cocked, head tilted. He lifts his hand, and there’s a heavy moment of tension as you watch him slowly swipe a thumb over the last remnant of juice on his chin, before his tongue lolls out of his mouth and he licks the final taste of peach from his fingers.

When you grab hold of his collar his expression shifts from something coy into something far more self satisfied, months of his brazen come-ons finally culminating in this—you, shoving him backwards into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind you.

“I swear,” you say. “I swear to God—”

“You swear? I can think of better things you could be doing with your mouth,” Jimin says, and then laughs when you scowl at him. “Damn, you’re so hot when you’re mad.”

“You are infuriating,” you bite out, and Jimin just laughs again, his whole body shaking, every part of him still loose and relaxed even as you continue to tighten your grip on his clothing, feeling every motion of his body under your hands. You hate how pretty he is, even now, utterly unafraid of your frustration—the brightness of his eyes and his smile, that undercurrent to it all, the way his hands slide so smoothly around your waist, your hips, sliding down to grope at your ass.

“I know,” he agrees, still giggling, and then he kisses you.

Jimin dives straight in, no holds barred, and you immediately melt into putty under his touch. He lets out a hum of satisfaction into your mouth as your hands go lax and slide down his chest. You can still taste the peach on his lips, his tongue, licking into his mouth.

You’ve thought about this mouth more times than you’d like to admit: the full swell of his lips, the little curve of his cupid’s bow, how it’d feel pressed against your own, and honestly? It’s so much better than you’d let yourself imagine it to be.

He nips at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, and you bite off a gasp when he pulls you forward, grinding against you. You shudder. Jimin’s mouth is a pleased curve against your own before he pulls away, murmuring in your ear in a voice that’s equal parts sultry and sweet.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing the sensitive skin of your jaw just under your earlobe, making you shiver. “Just relax. You’re always so tense.”

“Maybe that’s because my neighbour keeps me up all night,” you say, but your voice is weak, no strength behind your words, breath stolen out of you at the way Jimin starts to trail his lips down your neck, across your throat. “I find that constantly getting my sleep interrupted—oh, oh—”

Jimin sucks at the hollow of your neck, the delicate skin there so sensitive to his touch, the warmth of his lips magnified, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Your hands have slid into his hair and you unintentionally tighten your grasp, fingers tugging at his dark locks, and Jimin bares his teeth against your skin.

It’s maybe a little embarrassing how wet you are just from a little making out. But after months of Jimin teasing you and putting you on edge, coupled with how long it’s been since you've had sex? You’re allowed to be a little desperate. All the small frustrations you were about to voice die on your tongue, slipping away from you as Jimin starts to walk you backwards with a confidence that shows just how often he’s done this—leading people to his bed, never taking his hands off you.

By the time Jimin eases you to lie down, you feel breathless. He hovers above you with that satisfied smile flickering at the edge of his lips, taking in the sight of you, finally underneath him—lips kiss swollen, exquisite, all the sharp words on your tongue softened and gone, goosebumps trailing down your skin. You tug at his collar, which catches him off guard; he sways forward and almost hits his face against yours, but before he can spend too long looking smug at your desperation you capture his lips again. You melt into the mattress, hooking a foot over his calf and revelling in the weight of him between your legs, your hips flush, and how hard he’s getting through those stupidly tight leggings of his.

When he grinds against you, the outline of his cock pressed up against your cunt, an embarrassing whine leaves your lips and trembles against Jimin’s own. Jimin goes still before pulling away from the open-mouthed kiss and when you see the expression on his face you slap a hand over your mouth, burning with shame.

“Oh.” He sounds delighted. “You’re noisy, huh?”

“Shut up,” you say, though your words are muffled against your palm. He grinds down again, a slow and deep roll of his hips that lets you feel how hard he is, and a noise shudders out the back of your throat, audible around your hand.

“It’s hot.” There’s that little smirk on Jimin’s lovely lips, every inch of him dripping self confidence. He knows how you’re entirely at his mercy, in spite of your words; your voice is weak. “You’re normally so quiet.”

“Some of us try to be considerate and think about our neighbours.”

Jimin just smiles, pulling your hand away from your mouth before gently kissing your palm, a motion that’s surprisingly tender and makes you pause. 

“Trust me.” His voice is low. “I do think about my neighbour.”

Your breath hitches when he slides his free hand under your shirt, trailing his fingers over the softness of your stomach. He pulls the fabric up, letting his gaze rove over the bared skin. The way Jimin looks at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world, like he’s never seen anyone prettier.

You wonder if he looks at his other fuckbuddies like this.

The thought slides away from you as Jimin dips his head and starts to kiss your throat again. You tilt your head back as his lips trail across the soft skin, his hands coming to rest under your breasts, contained as they are by your bra; once he coaxes you to sit up, it only takes him a few moments to strip your upper body, kneeling between your spread legs as he starts to trail his hands over the parts of you that are now bared to him.

“Pretty,” he says. You’d roll your eyes if he didn’t sound so reverent, and also if you weren’t distracted by the way he flicks his thumbs over your hardening nipples, your core clenching as he does, biting your lip to stop yourself from making a sound. A frown flits across Jimin’s face and he lifts one of those thumbs away from your breast, dragging your lip away from your teeth, letting his grasp linger so your lips are parted. “Don’t do that. I've been waiting for months to hear you properly.”

Before you can reply, he kisses you again, licking into your mouth and swallowing down the noise you make when he drags his hand between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and settling between your legs, running his fingers over your cunt, the feeling dulled by layers of fabric even though he presses with intent. Your hips jolt at the sensation, and Jimin repeats the motion, dragging the fabric across your flushed lips.

“Jimin.” Your voice is a gasp against his mouth, and you can’t keep the pleading out of your tone, desperation bleeding into every letter of your words. “Please.”

He just hums, sounding pleased, and a breath of surprise escapes you as he pushes you back against the pillows. He wastes no time in getting to his prize, drawing a scattered constellation of kisses that trail across your chest, your nipples, your stomach, the line of your hip bones as you lift up so he can pull your shorts and underwear off. You’re entirely naked underneath him, bare and wet, cunt flushed and shining, and Jimin groans at the sight.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, fingers digging into your thighs as he pulls your legs wider. Your cheeks burn as Jimin stares at your pussy, but you can’t help but feel a pulse of self-satisfaction at the visible twitch of his cock in his stupid yoga leggings. “You’re so wet.”

You should probably feel embarrassed, but by now you’ve thrown all your previous inhibition to the winds. You’ve ended up somewhere you’d privately sworn you were never going to—in Park Jimin’s bed, leaned up against his pillows, laid out for him to touch and take and have, every inch of you desperate for it. There’s nothing in your brain or body but arousal and need. So instead of letting out a snip of a remark you just cant your hips towards him, another pleading sound slipping from your lips.

He gives you what you want. He dips his head and trails his lips and tongue down, down, down, wet and hot, until they press against your cunt. He looks at you with the same hooded eyes as earlier, motions of his mouth an echo of his peach eating, sloppy and messy; he’s unabashed in the way he slides his mouth over you, lips slick and tongue hot, sliding over every sensitive inch—sucking your clit, licking your folds, burying his face between your legs and drinking up every sweet drip of your juices. 

You can’t help but make noise. Small gasps that slide into moans of pleasure, hitches in your breath that make your chest jump and your breasts shake; Jimin lets out noises too, muffled against your cunt, sounds that let you know he’s enjoying himself almost as much as you. It’s honestly pretty fucking hot, the way your own pleasure seems to turn him on, how he chases that feeling, eyes blown as he takes in every one of your reactions, repeating the motions that are affecting you the most.

The sight of him between your legs has you tensing. He continues to stare up at you, the curve of your stomach when you bow towards him, the fall of your breasts, which he slides his hands over, cupping them in his palms, pinching your hardened buds, layering sensation on sensation, never taking his mouth off you.

When he presses one finger inside, and then another, both thrusting firm and deep as he mouths at your clit, you tangle a hand into his hair. He watches the way your hips jump from the sensation of his tongue directly on your clit, and does it again, and again, your voice crescendoing from the explosion of sensation, how it’s too much, before he circles his lips around it and sucks messily. Your brain registering nothing but his lips and tongue against you, the hands that are trailing up and down your sides and still skimming across your breasts.

You’re not even aware of the words that are falling from your lips, oh fuck, yes, Jimin, there, oh, the way your grasp tightens in his dark hair, your hips bucking against his mouth as you can feel your orgasm approaching. The pleasure keeps building, flames fanning brighter and brighter as Jimin buries his mouth even further in between your legs, fingers speeding up as you gasp.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chant, voice getting higher. “I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming, oh—”

Your words slide into a moan as your back arches and your thighs tighten around Jimin’s head and you cum. Jimin continues to finger fuck you through it, your cunt pulsating around him as he keeps licking and sucking at your clit, his gaze fixed on your face as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls open and every line of your body sings of the pleasure that Jimin has given to you. Even when your legs and hips start to jolt from oversensitivity and you cry out at each ripple of his tongue against you, he’s relentless, almost cruel in how he watches you writhe from a mixture of pain and overextended pleasure.

You're sobbing by the time Jimin pulls his mouth away from your cunt, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, body shaking as you try to suck in air. He thrusts his fingers into you one more time, slow and deep, watching the way you turn your head into the pillow and muffle a gasp against it. 

“I knew you'd look and sound gorgeous when you cum,” he says, and though you feel boneless from your post-orgasm high, you can’t help a little huff escaping your lips. Jimin clearly catches the sound, quiet as it is against the linen of his pillowcase, and takes your chin in his hand to turn his face towards you. His fingers are slick with your arousal, wet against your skin.

“You sound like you’re reading off the script to a porno,” you murmur.

One of his eyebrows arches. “Oh? You don’t think I’m just speaking my mind?” Those fingers move away from your chin and trace over the swell of your bottom lip; you let your mouth fall open and swallow them down, licking the taste of yourself off Jimin’s skin. “You don’t think that I’ve been thinking about how pretty you’d look as I fucked into you, begging for me to let you cum again and again?”

Your tongue stutters against his fingers and your core clenches at his words, the dark undercurrent underneath them, and Jimin’s expression shifts as he notices.

“You really have no idea, do you?” He runs his fingertips over your tastebuds, saliva starting to pool in your mouth, the slide so wet and messy. “Who do you think I picture whenever I touch myself? Who do you think I was wishing was in my bed every time I took someone else home?”

You nip at his fingers, running the edge of your teeth along his knuckles from equal parts surprise and disbelief at his words. You find it impossible to believe that he really means that, but then you realise—recently, on the few occasions you’d bumped into Jimin in the hall when he’d had one of his lays trailing behind him, for as different and unique each of them was, each one of them had shared some sort of trait with you. Hair colour, eyes, the set of their lips, the shape of their face; once, you’d heard a girl giggling through the wall before it had trailed off into a moan, and you’d done a literal double take at how much she’d sounded like you. Similar, but not exactly the same, a slightly off-tone echo of the sound that spills from your own lips whenever you laugh.

And the emptiness in his bed had only started after the night that he’d seen the way you’d trailed into your apartment with discontent heavy around your shoulders, disappointed at that awful Tinder date.

Oh, fuck.

“You’re shameless,” you say, words a little garbled around Jimin’s fingers, but you know he understands.

“No, I’m not,” he replies, a small smirk curling up the corner of his lips. It should be illegal: the way he has such soft features that can turn so quickly into something sharper and entirely sensual, eyes hooded, lips flushed, the column of his throat so lovely and graceful as he tilts his head to one side. “I just know what I want and don’t try to hide it. What’s shameless about that? I know you want me too, but you always deny yourself the things you want. Don’t you?”

You hate that you’ve been so transparent in your attraction to him. Because the truth of the matter is that for as much as Jimin frustrates you with his entire existence, you do want him. After all—you wouldn’t be naked underneath him, still trembling from the aftershocks of a deep orgasm, if you didn’t.

“You’re not always as quiet as you think, you know,” he adds, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and enjoying the way your eyes widen at his words. You thought he couldn’t hear you through the wall, but it seems like you were wrong.

Before you can say anything in reply, though, he grinds down. Without your clothes in the way you can feel the drag of his yoga pants against your cunt, how the wetness of your cum and Jimin’s spit soaks into the fabric, his hard cock hot, and you let out a whine. He still has yet to remove any of his clothes and you want to  see them off so he’s finally naked. You’ve seen enough of his bare skin over the months to have a pretty good idea of what that looks like, but you want to see the real thing.

Jimin seems just as eager to shed his clothes, yielding to your grasping hands and carelessly throwing his top aside; you end up straddling his waist and kissing down his chest in an imitation of his motions earlier, letting your fingers trail over the lean muscle from his yoga and dance. When you tongue at one of his nipples and he gasps, you feel euphoric. He’s unfairly beautiful, from the lovely collarbones to the flex of his shoulders and arms and the line of his chest and stomach, delicate and somehow entirely masculine. You still sort of want to slap him, but settle with kissing the hollow of his neck instead, digging your fingers into his ribs as you roll your hips down against him.

His own hips buck up. You can tell that he’s desperate to be inside you, but you want to taste him first. 

When you slide down his body and settle between his legs, you hook your fingers into the tight waistband of those stupid leggings and tug them down. Jimin hisses through his teeth as you let the material settle just under his hips, baring the top of his briefs to you, how his cock strains against them, the patch of wetness at the head, darkening the fabric.

You don’t strip him. Not completely. You just hook your fingers into those dark blue briefs and pull them down just enough to reveal the flushed head of his cock, wet with precum. You let your tongue flick out to catch that salty bitterness, and Jimin bites off a curse at the almost shy licks you start to lave across his slit, circling around the weeping head.

Hearing Jimin’s gasps without the wall in the way is honestly an experience. Before, whenever he had people over, they usually drowned him out, theatrical wails and groans overpowering his far more natural noises, but now there’s nothing to prevent you from hearing the way his breath hitches in his throat or the way he moans. Even the smallest things have him letting slip sounds, a noise escaping him as you coax him to lift his hips so you can finally, finally peel those leggings and briefs off, dragging over the hardness of his cock as you do. You want to take in the sight of him fully naked, give it the proper attention it deserves, but then you feel his cock throb in your hand and you can’t stop yourself from immediately lowering your mouth to it again.

His whole body shudders. You let your jaw fall open as you take him in, tongue curling around him, hands touching every part of him that isn’t in your mouth, making sure there’s no part of  him that isn’t receiving attention. His eyes are wide under the mess of his fringe, hair falling over his forehead as he watches the way you run your lips down the side of his cock before sucking one of his balls into your mouth, circling his length with your hands, a twisting rise and fall in the motion as you drink down the noise of surprised pleasure that drops from his lips.

Jimin’s fingers have been tangled in your hair but he lets you control the flow. The sounds of you swallowing him down into your mouth as you bob your head are obscene, wet and messy, but you can still hear how his voice starts to rise, how his fingers tighten against your scalp, and you know he’s close when he tugs you upwards and drags your lips away from his cock. 

Jimin pulls you towards him and you settle against his chest as you start to kiss again, shivering at the way he rolls his tongue in your mouth. This time when Jimin rolls his hips, there’s nothing between your skin and his, dragging the underside of his cock across your flushed lower lips, the slide between your folds and against your clit making you shiver.

“Condoms?” 

You’re breathless, and Jimin quirks a smile at you.

“Top drawer,” he answers. Of course they would be, in easy reach whenever he needs them. 

You lean forwards to reach for the bedside table and Jimin takes the opportunity to circle a hand around your breast and capture a nipple in his mouth, ignoring the way you bite back a surprised noise, staring up at you with almost innocent eyes as he sucks at your skin in the way he’s worked out that you like best. Your hands are a fumble as you pull a condom out of the pack, ripping the sachet away from the others, a bottle of lube rolling into your grasp. You try to focus on your task and not the sensation of Jimin switching attention to your other breast, cupping the swell of flesh in his hand and drawing his teeth gently across your skin.

“You’re insatiable,” you mutter, and Jimin laughs before he kisses between your breasts. 

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you since we first met,” he says, utterly unrepentant. “I don't want to take my mouth off you.”

“Insatiable,” you repeat, but you’re flustered. Even if you know he’s not lying, and you’re naked and straddling his hips, the taste of his lips and cock now familiar on your tongue, it’s… kind of incredible to think that the gorgeous Park Jimin has been lusting after you for that long. 

Or lusting after you at all, really.

But as you tear the foil of the condom, the look he levels at you is burning with desire, roaming over you, every inch of your nakedness, every movement of your body. His hands rest at your waist, thumbs rubbing over your skin as you hold his cock in one hand and roll the condom down with the other, letting your fingers circle his length, dragging your touch over the heat of him and revelling in the way he twitches. As much as you’ve thought of Jimin as a fuckboy, you know that he wouldn’t lie just to get someone in his bed, so as unbelievable as his words are, every single one of his actions backs up what he’s said: he wants you.

You don't notice how soft his gaze is as you take time to warm the lube in your hands, even though you’re desperate to feel him finally slide home. You've always been so considerate, even when he knows you've been frustrated at him, and that's evident now, in this small thing.

You spread the warmed lube over his covered cock, pumping it in your hand to get him slick and ready, loving the way he hisses though his teeth. He has to stop his hips from bucking up as you line his cockhead up with your entrance, his fingers digging into your sides as you hover in place.

“Come on,” Jimin urges. “Give it to me.”

“Insatiable,” you repeat, one last time, then you bend your knees.

You finally ease yourself down and onto his cock. You both let out moans; Jimin, finally feeling the wet heat of you around him, and you, falling into the sensation of him stretching you open, snug inside you, slowly splitting you open as you take him in, inch by inch, until you’re sitting on his hips and he’s fully buried in your cunt.

It’s been a while since you’ve had someone inside you. You grind downwards, rolling your hips, biting your lip at the sensation. Jimin’s chest expands as he sucks in a sharp breath, and you roll your hips again, a hand bracing on one of his lovely, thick thighs, the other resting just under his stomach as you lean back and arch your spine. You lift your hips, easy and slow, and then fall, Jimin’s cock dragging and pressing against your inner walls, a gasp shuddering out of your lips at the electric feeling.

Again and again, noises of pleasure drip from your mouth as you ride him, head tilting back at the sensations rippling through your body and across your skin, the apartment full of the sounds of your sex—the moans, the wet thrust of Jimin’s cock into your cunt, the praise that falls from his lips, months of feeling pouring from his lips. How pretty you are, how gorgeous, how well you’re taking his cock, how wet and tight you are around him; all the things he’s been thinking about, come to life, his hips snapping into yours as a sharp cry cuts through your lips at the sudden change of pace.

The pleasure’s been steadily building between your legs again, warm and unrushed, but then Jimin flips you without warning, fluid and graceful. Your eyes are wide as you end up on your back, Jimin’s hands braced either side of your head as he looks down at you with those dark, dark eyes of his. He thrusts forwards and your hands fly up to grab at him, your entire body shifting up the mattress at the force of his movements. His eyebrows are drawn together as he starts to drive himself into you, unapologetic in how aggressive he’s being, each thrust pushing the air out of your lungs in harried little gasps that shake the air between you.

The sound of his headboard slamming into the wall, a noise that’s been haunting you each time you’ve been trying to sleep or relax, is one you don’t even register. All you can think about is Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, caught up in the way there’s sweat beading across his forehead, strands of his dark hair sticking to it, the intense look in his eyes, the way his full lips are parted, small ah-ah-ahs falling from his lips in time with his thrusts, your body tightening around him each time he slides home.

You can’t remember the last time you were fucked this good. Jimin reads the language of your body with ease, knowing exactly when to lean back and trail a hand over your hips, circling his thumb over your swollen clit, the slide over that bundle of nerves messy from the mix of cum and lube and spit that’s laid slick across you. Each fluid roll of his hips is perfectly timed with the press of his thumb, your thighs going tense and your pussy clenching around Jimin’s hot cock as you start to reach another peak of pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby.” Jimin sounds breathless. “Let me see how pretty you are when you cum around my cock.”

Normally dirty talk seems so ham-handed and stuttering, but the words fall out of Jimin’s lips  as natural as breathing, thoughtless. Stirring your arousal even further. He’s gripping your hips, pulling you down each time he presses up, and you circle your fingers around his wrist as his other hand is occupied with rubbing at your most sensitive part, tightening your hold as you feel another orgasm approaching.

“Jimin.” Your voice is a keen. “I'm so close, please, there, right there, theretherethere—”

You can't blame Jimin's other partners for being so noisy. The sound you let out is just as loud, maybe even louder, Jimin continuing to snap his hip forwards as you cum hard, a drawn out moan that crescendos as you pulsate around Jimin's cock, still hard inside you. He watches the way you writhe beneath him, tangling his fingers with yours when you reach for him and swallowing the end of your moan in a surprisingly sweet kiss, his lips gentle against yours as he slows to a stop before you become too sensitive.

Your voice is a quiet murmur against his lips. “How have you not cum yet?”

His eyes squeeze into a smile as he laughs, light and bright, the sound so sweet. “I've got stamina for days, darling,” he says, oozing that trademark arrogance you’ve gotten used to.

You clench as hard as you can around him and feel smug when he bites off a shocked curse, his smug facade broken. You can’t help but laugh at his expression, scandalised at it is, though your giggle cuts into a gasp when he pinches one of your nipples and then soothes it with his thumb. He seems amused by the look on your face and then laughs in turn, the two of you dissolving into laughter that’s edged with pleasure, your motions shifting his length inside you.

When the laughter trails off, Jimin stays smiling down at you. You draw your hands over his body, tracing all that smooth skin, and he touches the back of your hands with gentle fingers. There's a beat of silence but it's not an uncomfortable one, the air light after your shared giggles. It's… really nice. It's nice and soft and sweet, just like the expression on Jimin's face, tender, even if he's still buried inside you.

You feel so empty when he slips out, already missing the thickness of his cock when it seems as though he’s about to coax you to roll onto your front. Your hands are still linked with his and you tighten your fingers, making him pause.

“I want to see your face,” you confess quietly. It’s probably too much to ask of him but you feel like if you’re turned away from each other then you’ll feel like nothing more than a fucktoy. Just another warm body in Jimin’s bed. You don’t want that.

Jimin stares at you, surprise written across his features before his expression softens. 

"Okay, baby," he murmurs indulgently. The small pet name sounds so sweet in his mouth. "We can stay like this."

He lets your hands go so that he can reach for a pillow that ends settled under your ass, tilting your hips up towards him. You’re not as flexible as he is—maybe you should start doing yoga too—but Jimin doesn’t push you far, hitching your legs up and draping your calves over his shoulders, leaning towards you so that the back of your thighs are warm against his chest. He's bent forward, face hovering above yours, so much skin-on-skin contact that your entire body feels warmed by him.

When he slides back in, you can feel the change in angle immediately. The head of his cock brushes over your g-spot and you suck in a sharp breath; Jimin notices, of course, aiming to hit it again, and again.

It feels good, of course. Amazing. But as much as you’d be happy for Jimin to make you cum again, you’d rather see him fall apart. 

You dig your nails into his shoulder blades, turning your head so you can press kisses along the line of his jaw, murmuring into his ear.

“Are you going to let me see you cum?” 

Jimin’s hips stutter as your words curl out of your mouth, warm against his skin. You’ve been picturing Park Jimin’s o-face for an endless amount of weeks and you’re ready to finally see the real thing.

“Cum on me,” you say, and then choke in a sob of air as Jimin responds with a sharp snap of his hips. “I want you to cum on me, Jimin, please.”

Your begging is shameless and you know it. Jimin’s face is so close to yours in this position and you can see how blown his pupils are, how his mouth is flushed from your kisses and how he’s been biting at them, his teeth digging into his lip as he starts to get faster, sloppier in his thrusts. It feels so good to know that you’re making him feel like this, that he’s reaching the peak of his pleasure with his body against yours, inside you, above you; he might have had other people in this position in the past, but right now it’s you who’s making Park Jimin come apart. 

You urge him onwards with large, pleading eyes, rocking down on his cock each time he thrusts forward, begging the whole time. Pleading for him to cum, to give it to you, to cover you. Jimin obviously likes you loud and desperate, and you're more than willing to give him what he wants.

He slips out of you, fumbling with the condom and carelessly tossing it aside before he starts to pump his cock, hungry to reach his peak as he fucks into his fist. You let your legs fall open as you watch the way his body tenses, his brows drawn together and little breaths falling out of his mouth, barely audible over the wet slide of his cock in his hand. You run your hands over your body, across the swell of your breasts, down your stomach, dipping between your legs, trying to look as arousing as possible, anything to throw Jimin over the edge.

"I've imagined you cumming for months," you confess, words thoughtlessly falling from your lips. "On me, inside me, in my mouth—"

Park Jimin’s o-face is just as gorgeous as the rest of him.

You love how noisy he is. He paints your stomach with his cum, ropes of white spattering across the soft skin of your stomach and hips as he rides out his orgasm, moaning as he continues to milk his twitching cock. It’s so fucking hot, honestly, as is the expression on his face when you swipe your fingers through his cum and lift it to your lips, mouth filled with salt and warm.

“Fuck.” He’s breathless, panting. “You’re unbelievable.”

You let out a small scoff, but it’s edged with affection. “Says the man who was ready to fuck me six ways to Sunday,” you say. “If anyone’s the unbelievable one here, it’s you.”

“I can last longer, but you’re just so hot,” Jimin says. You respond by curling your fingers at him, beckoning him towards you, and you end up sharing a series of messy kisses. 

You were, honestly, genuinely angry when you'd stepped into his apartment earlier, even if that irritation had been rounded out with arousal and desire. Now, though, you feel thoroughly boneless and content, loose limbed on Jimin's mattress, his lips and tongue moving against your own.

He leans too far forwards and smears his own cooling cum against his stomach. He doesn’t seem bothered, though. You’re the one who has to coax him to clean up, though with the way he looks at your still naked body, you know he would happily launch straight into a second round of fucking so he can add more cum to the canvas of your skin.

He really is insatiable, apparently, when it comes to you.

Even so, you wonder if Jimin’s going to kick you out now that he’s finally had a taste of you. He doesn't. He keeps you close, your body pressed against his side in a way that feels far more intimate than you would have expected.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin breaks the soft silence.

You’ve been trailing nonsensical patterns over his chest but pause when he says this. “Hm?”

“Are you hungry?” Jimin repeats, and there’s a cheeky smile flickering at the edge of his lips. “I have some more peaches in the fridge, if you’d like one.”

“That peach.” Your voice is an embarrassed hiss and your cheeks burn, but Jimin just laughs, boyish and bright as you slap halfheartedly at him. “That was just unfair. Who eats fruit like that?”

“Someone who’s trying to make it obvious that he’s imagining the peach is his neighbour’s pussy instead.” He’s so brazen. “And it clearly worked, didn’t it?”

It had worked. It's annoyingly effective, actually; thinking about the way Jimin had been staring at you as he tongue fucked that peach has arousal shooting through you, even after being so thoroughly fucked by him.

“Yeah, now you’ve had me,” you say. “What do you plan to do next?”

Jimin goes quiet. You wonder if you’ve misstepped, but then he sweeps his hand down the curve of your spine, goosebumps appearing in the wake of his touch.

“I was planning on asking if you wanted to go out for lunch,” he says, his voice so sweet, miles away from the fuckboy persona he usually puts on. This is the softer Park Jimin that you’ve caught glimpses of when he’s unaware, the side of him you wished he’d show more often—revealed to you, now. “Then, if you said yes, I was going to take you out on a date. If that date went well, then I was going to ask if you’d like to go on another one with me. And then another.”

One thing you know about Park Jimin is this: he doesn’t do dates. Each of his lays are one time affairs, no attachments made, no real connection beyond the physical act of sex. Your heart rate picks up.

“Obviously we’d fuck between dates,” he adds, raising his eyebrows at you in a way that’s so exaggerated that it makes you laugh. Of course. Jimin likes to fuck. “Unless you didn’t want to, but there are only so many peaches I can eat, you know?”

“So if I said I didn't want to fuck, and you ran out of peaches, what would you do?” 

Your question seems casual and light but Jimin isn't stupid. He knows what you're really asking. Is he genuinely interested in something more exclusive, or would you just become another notch in his bedpost if he grew tired of waiting for you to spread your legs again?

"I can always buy more peaches."

You stare at him. He's looking at you levelly, a small smile on his face that's a little cocky but mostly warm. And, well, you know he's already gone without other partners for you, even before he'd gotten you in his bed. Park Jimin is serious about you, it seems. He'll wait.

You mouth at his collarbones, tasting the salt of sweat as you kiss and lick at his skin.

"After lunch, we can go back to my apartment, if you want," you whisper against his throat.

Just because Jimin's willing to wait doesn't mean you're going to force him to, especially as you're still as hungry for him as he is for you. 

His hands squeeze your sides as you end up kissing again. You feel soft and ripe and sweet, easing under the touch of Jimin's hands and mouth.

"I still think you're a fucking menace, though," you add, and Jimin laughs so hard the bed shakes, still utterly unrepentant and entirely yours.

--

taglist: @beyoncesdragon​ 

#btswritingcafe #jimin smut #jimin oneshot #jimin x reader #bts #bts au #bts smut #jimin fanfic #jimin #jimin x oc #bts oneshot #park jimin #jimin imagine #jimin scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist

[marveicinematics]

kaleidoscope (loki x reader, smut)

Summary : Loki has got the whole night ready : the hotel suite, the rope and the perfect lover. 

Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x female reader.

Words : 1,504

TW : Smut. Oral sex (female receiving, male only mentioned), fingering, unprotected sex, bondage, dom/sub kink, safe word use, masturbation (only mentioned).

Note : Based on readers’ requests. A lot of you wanted Loki in this sort of plot, so I really hope you enjoy it.

"What is this place?“

Your eyes widened as you entered the hotel room. Room — that’s what he called it, but you had never seen an hotel room this big, before tonight. It looked like the most luxurious New-York apparement you had ever set a foot in.

“Our room, for the next..—“ He checked his phone, before turning it off and setting it down the table. “Exactly eight hours and forty-two minutes.“

A laughter escaped your lips. Loki surely knew how to make this romantic, but not by counting every minutes.

“Then we better get started, big boy.“

It all started two weeks ago, after you spent the night at the Avengers headquarters. Loki’s room was on the same floor as Black Widow’s and Captain America’s. After what had been a wild night for both you and Loki, your first time having sex with the god you had been dating for two months, Natasha couldn’t help but to tease you during the entire breakfast. It was only by how blushed Steve’s cheeks went when Natasha mentioned how Loki seemed to have lost his voice overnight, that you realized they both knew. Soon enough, Loki decided both of you deserved a night of wildness without dealing with the Avenger’s sarcastic comments.

When he mentioned an hotel room, you had imagined a gloomy motel room. But there you were, inside what seemed to be a palace room coming from a Disney’s animation film. It didn’t stop you from kissing your man with all the passion and desire you had been saving for this moment. Loki had been so busy with the Avengers that you barely saw him all week long. Sure, you took care of yourself, thinking about how good this night was going to be. But you wanted to save some of this frustration for tonight. A spark of desire rushed in Loki’s eyes as he kissed you back, pushing you down on the bed.

“You’re going to need a safe word, love.“

“A— what?“

He smiled at what you believed was stupidity, but was really just innocence. As always, Loki explained everything he wanted you to know on how and why you should use this word, before reaching an agreement with the word "kaleidoscope“. It was only after both of you repeated it a couple of time to make sure you both knew the meaning behind it that he kissed you again. Deeply, fiercely. With just a kiss, you knew how much he had been wanting you — all of you. Quickly, you managed to undress the brown-haired god, throwing his clothes all over the hotel room floor. Loki seemed to enjoy it, because he followed your idea, taking care of your dress and underwear, leaving both of you fully naked on the queen-size bed.

“Are you ready?“ Asked Loki, and with a large grin across your face, you nodded.

He leaned towards the bedside table, catching the rope he had bought just for you. He even sent you a whole text about it, and how it wasn’t going to hurt you, or as least it would only be a pleasurable pain, from the type of rope he bought. Before his explanations, you really believed a rope was just a rope, but he managed to change your opinion on this subject. While Loki was tying up your wrists on the headboard, you looked at his naked body, your eyes worshiping everything he was. But soon enough, the man was done, and slide between your legs.

"Now, you will obey my commands. Do only as I say, or you will be punished."

His voice was deeper, filled with lust, which only turned your on even more. You could feel yourself getting wetter just by listening to his voice. You nodded again, and despite the fact that he was trying to stay as serious as he could be, you saw a soft grin on his face — he was, oh, so in love with you. But before you had time to say anything, Loki’s face was between your legs, and his expert tongue was all over your pussy, hitting the right spots, sucking the right parts and making you moan with pleasure. For once, you were free to be loud. You wouldn’t hold back. His strong hands made sure your knees stayed wide opened, as he kept licking you the way you liked it the most. How was it that he already knew all your soft spots, all the things that were driving you crazy? Eyes rolling back, body arching against him, you pulled the rope to free your hands, but it wouldn’t let go. He must have learned exactly how to tie you up — how fucking arousing. And while you tried to think of a way to touch his body, his tongue was still working magic between your legs. It didn’t take you long before your whole body was shaking against the bed, your first orgasm making you scream your lover’s name. But it didn’t stop the god of mischief, who kept pleasuring you, as one of his finger entered you.

“Fuck, Loki. I’m so— Fuck, so sensitive.“ You muttered, only causing his smile to widen while he was sucking on your clit.

Expert fingers going in and out of you while his face was still between your legs, you could feel your inside clench and your legs shake again, even before you reached your second orgasm against his fingers.

“Faster. Yes! Keep going. I’m going to—“

You tried to warn him, but his strong digits kept hitting the right spot inside of you, and you came again, hard. Third orgasm, and it was loud enough that the people in the room next door knocked on the wall.

“We’re busy.“ Loki replied, shaking his head.

You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, even if he already made you reach orgasm three times. One thing you realized about Loki was how he enjoyed seeing you lose your mind, while you were so sore ans sensitive. You only had a minute to calm down, before he entered you without warning.

“Fuck, Loki.“

“Do you feel how hard hearing you scream my name made me, baby?“

You nodded again, and he started bucking his hips. The expression of pure bliss on his face aroused you even more, making you arch against him as he was going deeper. You liked it when he got rough because of how he needed you, how he wanted you so badly.

“I’m not sure you can make me come again.“ You said softly, innocent eyes staring at him.

Was it a defiance? Yes. Did you entend it to be? Absolutely. His eyes darkened and he gripped your face.

“You will come again against my cock, or you will be punished. Understood?“

You nodded. Loki went deeper and harder, making sure you would actually reach another orgasm with him. And as you started to feel closer, you heard Loki’s moans becoming louder as he was approaching his peak. “Come, love. Together.“

He thrusted deeper inside you, emptying himself in a groan you were positive the neighbor must have heard. To make sure you were following his orgasm, he reached down between your legs, circling your clit with his fingers. “I said cum for me.“

And you did, again. Body shaking, you closed your eyes so tight while you were screaming your pleasure that when they opened again, everything around you was blurry. Fourth orgasm, you felt like your head was spinning. But it didn’t seem to stop your man, who started to give a few hard thrusts inside you. “Fuck, stop. Loki.“ You moaned again, your body still shaking from the previous orgasm.

But he kept going, his fingers taking care of you at the same time again. And you felt another rush of pleasure brushing through your whole body, but you weren’t quite sure if you were about to cum again or to pass out.

“Ah! F—Fuck, ka— kale—.“

Moans after moans, it took you a few seconds to actually say the word.

“Shit, Loki. Kaleidoscope!“

He stopped as soon as he heard. Quickly, he untied your arms, laying down against you. One of his arm wrapped around your naked and sweating body, he whispered.

“I’m so sorry, love. Did I hurt you? I thought you were enjoying it.“

“I was. It was so fucking good, Loki.“

Doubtful, he frowned, his eyes staring at your tired face while he was trying to understand.

“Never a man fucked me so good, okay? It just started to be a lot of pleasure. Do you know how many times I came?“

As he shook his head, you let out a soft chuckle. Your hand found his long black hair, that you started caressing tenderly.

“Something between four and five times. I’m not sure.“

“So, you owe me a lot of orgasms, right?“

You laughed again at his observation, looking at his beautiful face.

“Let me get some rest, and my mouth will take care of this matter.“

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyjarson #loki imagine #loki smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddelston imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #fanfiction #fanfic

[stevelovbot]

cause y’beautiful

pairing : dallas winston x african-american reader

warnings : angst and some racism; if that’s a triggering topic for you, please don’t read. also, if you need anyone to talk to about an issue concerning that topic, feel free to dm me.

a/n : based off of this request by the lovely @danddwife : “Hi I see you lost the outsiders 💓I was wandering if you could write a one shot or whether you perfect with Dallas and an African American fem reader.” 

you were sitting in your bed, tying your curly strands of hair into a bun. it was a summer evening, and god knows, summer evenings are really damn hot in tulsa, oklahoma. you were at buck’s place upstairs, opening all the windows, waiting for your boyfriend dallas to come back from the diner. at least when he came back, you wouldn’t have to be both bored and hot.

“hey doll, whatcha doin’?”, dally’s voice boomed out. he reached towards you for a hug, but you stepped back.

“no! don’t touch me!”, you squealed as you moved back.

“heeeey, why not?”, he asked jokingly. “i’m tired n’ bored n’ all i really want to do is hug my girlfriend but she won’t let me? bullshit, man.” 

“cause y’sweating, dal.” you said. “take a bath first.”

he feigned annoyance and left to go to the bathroom, smacking your bum on the way and sending you a cheeky wink. you just smiled back.

knowing dallas, and the fact that he takes forever and then a few years to take a proper shower, you plopped back onto the creaky queen bed and continued to file your nails. after what felt like forever (see, you knew he would take a billion hours), the door opened and out came an extremely wet, but still extremely attractive dally.

“there y’go. better? now, gimme that hug will ya?”, dally asked.

you giggled as you leaned forward to hug him back. pecking a light kiss onto his cheeks, you smiled as you leaned back.

“oh! i almost forgot! evie ‘n angela invited us to go to the drive-in for dinner! the gang’ll be there too, c’mon it’ll be so fun!”, you said.

“’m tired as fuck though, man.”, dally grumbled.

“it won’t be long babe! i promise!”, you pleaded.

“hmmm. ‘kay fine. but y’gotta give me another kiss before i go get dressed, doll.”, dally said.

happily obliging to his deal, you smiled and placed a soft kiss on his lips before going and getting dressed. when the two of you finished getting dressed, you walked down the neighborhood to get to your destination.

as the two of you paid for your tickets and popcorn, angela made her way over. 

“hey you two! i didn’t think you’d make it!”, she said.

“well, i guess we did after all!”, you smiled. “this one was a bit reluctant though.”

“i was not! ‘m just tired is all!”, dally said.

angela giggled, beginning to lead you two over to where everyone else was.

“you two head right over, i’ll just grab some cola.”, you said.

you walked over to the concession stand and stood in line behind a few of the socs. one of them turned around and looked you up and down, then laughed.

“what are you laughing at?” you fired.

“nothing. just wondering how someone like you got to hookup with someone like him.”, she gestured toward where dally was standing.

your eyes pooled slowly, and you winced as if a flame was ignited upon your cheek. you got these comments a lot. “someone like you” wasn’t just an insult based upon your style or your money. it was based off of your race. all throughout your life, these comments had kept getting to you. however you had never gotten one like this, about your relationship with dallas. it was the one thing you treasured the most.

dropping the money you were holding, you ran back straight to buck’s place. not to dallas, just straight to buck’s place. you crumpled on the floor as your hair fell in tight curls out of your ponytail. and that’s when the dam burst again. he could have anyone truly. why you? you closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself.

upon opening your eyes again, you had found yourself lying on the bed, with dally concernedly hovering over you. when he saw you open your eyes, he felt relief flood through himself.

“doll? ‘s anything wrong? why’d you come home early?”, he asked.

“i just - i don’t understand, dally.”, you sobbed into his chest.

“shh, i’m here f’ ya doll, let it all out.”, he soothed you.

“i don’t understand - why would you wanna be with me when you could have anyone? ’m not skinny, ‘m not pretty, goddamn’ i’m not even white. y’know what happened at the concession stand? a soc told me she doesn’t understand why you’re with me ‘cause you’re you and i’m just me. plain old little me.”, you sobbed.

“hey, hey. listen to me, doll. i’m with you ‘cause i love you, okay? you may not be skinny, but you’re perfect to me. you think you aren’t pretty, but to me, you’re the prettiest person i’ve laid my eyes on. you’re not white, who. fucking. cares? our skin colors don’t define us, do they? i know i didn’t go to school for much time at all but if there’s one thing they taught us, it’s that every single fucking person is equal. okay? never ever let me hear you belittle yourself like that because of your race. i love you cause y’beautiful. inside and out.”, he said.

you felt your eyes prick again, this time not because you were sad, but because you never knew that he loved you this much. and, you knew he was right. your race doesn’t define you. your actions do. 

#umm idk if i like this or not #the outsiders #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #dallas winston #dally winston #dallas winston x reader #dally winston x reader

[wagner-fell]

Spiders Are Ugly And Other Lies Capitalism Has Told Us (part one)

“Dad,” Astrid called out, shutting the coral coloured front door behind her. “Are you home?”

She dumped her cream tote bag spray painted with the words ‘Washing Machine Heart’ in big, rainbow letters onto one of the stools facing the granite countertop. The rest of the Merry Hoes followed suit. It was weird seeing a person as chaotic as Astrid in such a calm environment.

They were all spending the summer in LA with Astrid and her Dad. It had taken a while for Kevin to convince his family it was a good idea. Especially because he and Blessica had finally put years of pinning behind them. Making out on Kit’s bed at Mina’s third birthday party certainly wasn’t the way they had envisioned it but as the longing was over with, they were happy.

The Chu’s didn’t love the idea of their son living in a different country for three months with his girlfriend but we’re on board once Kevin assured them there was no possible way Blessica could get pregnant.

Kit wasn’t officially sleeping at the Yang’s but at the Institute with his boyfriend. Julian wasn’t so thrilled about the situation but Emma was. She was positively ecstatic about having a training partner as skilled as Kit was, courtesy of Jem and Tessa. Though staying a thirty minute drive away (on the wrong side of the road, Mari noted) wouldn’t keep Kit away for long. Even now he was with them instead of having his own reunion make out session.

Speaking of making out…

Mari rested their chin on the top of Astrid’s head and wrapped their arms around her middle. “Why don’t you show us your room while we wait for your dad to get home.”

It was kinda perfect, Mari often remarked, that she realized her feelings for their best friend weren’t so platonic as she previously led herself to believe at the same time they and Kit realized they were better off as just platonic.

Astrid hit her hand playfully. “That’s not fair!” she whined! ”How dare you take advantage of my constant hornyness when my God-fearing Presbyterian father could be in the next room? Shame! Shame on you, shame on your family, shame on your cow.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘dishonor’”, said Kit, who didn’t even look up from his phone when he addressed her, “but go off I guess.”

Astrid looked like she was questioning all her life choices up to this point. “A white boy knows Mulan better than me.” She shook her head in disgust. Mari could feel the loose hairs of her girlfriend’s ponytail ticking her exposed collar bone. “Mulan.”

Mari laughed before softly brushing their lips against Astrid mop of bleached strands of pastel yellow, pink and blue mixed magnificently with her natural inky black.

“Is hornyness even a word?” Kevin wondered aloud as he observed the knickknacks placed at even intervals utop the kitchen cabinets. Blessica was with him. She was gazing at one of a crab steering a ship when she spotted a slim piece of paper taped below it.

“Ast,” she called. The both looked in her direction, despite Blessica needing the attention of one. “Your dad says he won’t be home till seven. Emergency at work.”

“Which leaves us more than enough time to pack and head over to meet Ty, Dru and Thaìs at the arcade,” said Kit. He finally turned his phone off and shoved it into the back pocket of his ripped jeans. “Marstrid can do the ol’ devil’s tango then catch up to us.”

‘Marstrid’ wrinkled their noses. “I thought we agreed on Astari, Christopher.”

“Astari sounds gayer,” confirmed Kevin, his eyes never leaving the miniature decorations.

“Not to be rude but why does Astari sound gayer?” asked a visibly confused Blessica.

“Because,” answered Mari, unraveling herself from Astrid to slide onto one of the bar stools and reaching into the Jolly Rancher jar, blindly searching for a green, “Astari has ‘star’ in it. Star equals astrology. An obsession with astrology is the price you pay for the gay agenda. Besides, Marstrid sounds like an old southern lady.” Then she furrowed her eyebrows and swiveled to face Astrid. “Southern is Texas, right?” Astrid nooded, a smile so big the Cheshire Cat would be jealous.

Without looking, she stuck her hand in the jar and pulled out a green apple flavoured hard candy on her first try. She held it out to Mari, who snatched it out of her hand with an angry huff.

“Hey, Ast, where do you guys keep the crisps?” asked Kevin when he finished inspecting all the knickknacks.

“Uh, under the barbecue sauce, I think.”

Kit’s eyes lit up. “So I’m sitting there”- Astrid understood what was happening in just enough time to quote- “barbecue sauce on my titties” in unison.

Mari put her head into their open palms, still sucking on the pity candy. “Why is this my type?”

“Are you sure this is the right place?” asked Blessica as Kit attempted to parallel park outside the location Ty had texted him to meet at. Key word, attempt. When Tessa had taught him to drive, he’d been such a disaster at parallel parking she had instructed him to ‘take the underground when tight spaces might be a possibility.’ Which he prided himself in doing. But this was America and the underground was called the subway, so, technically, no rules were being broken.

“Yes, Blessie, I’m certain.”

“Okay. Just checking cause a few turns back the GPS said-”

“Blessie!” He nearly crashed into the car in front of him.

“Right. Shutting up.”

When Kit managed to park with minimal damage and the three were about to exit, the voice of Nicki Minaj boomed from his pocket. Ty was calling him. He accepted the call, putting it on speaker.

“Hello Tiberius.” There was giggling from the other end of the line. A groan soon followed it.

“It’s been a year,” came the annoyed voice of Dru. “Get over your British kink already.” Kevin’s laughter echoed from the backseat.

“Hey Ty!

“Hi Kevin.”

”Hey Dru!”

“Fuck off.”

“Ouch. Why do you feel the need to hurt me so?” Blessica laughed.

“Hey…Thaìs?”

“Here,” replied Thaìs cheerfully.

“Are you here yet,” asked Ty.

“Uh, yeah! We were just getting out of the rental car when you called. You didn’t tell me it was going to be crowded. I had to parallel park!”

“What are you talking about?” interrupted Dru. ”There are only four cars in the parking lot.”

“But,” Ty countered, “there are lots of Billy’s Fun Zones’ around here. You guys must have got mixed up and taken a wrong turn. I could have sworn I sent you the correct location on GPS.” Maybe Ty said more on the subject but Kit could hear anything or see anything except the superior smirk Blessica was giving him.

He covered the speaker. “Not. A. Word.” And no word came out of her mouth the entire ride to the correct Billy’s Fun Zone but the ‘I told you so’ look on her face spoke loud enough.

Kit slid back into the booth next to Ty, handing him his pretzel. Ty kissed him on the check in gratitude.

Dru and Ty were right. About this one being empty. He told him he had heard about it from Alyssa. Her pack frequented it often. They were left alone because, well, there was no one else there to bother them.

“Where are Astrid and Mari?” he asked.

“Fucking. I think. Or maybe just making out. I’ll know which one when they finish.” When Ty gave him a puzzled look he continued, “Astrid describes it all to me in full detail. I honestly don’t know whether she doesn’t have a filter or she just needs someone to scream to about how amazing Mari is.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“True, true.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Ty picked up the conversation again. “When Thaìs first met Astrid, she had a huge crush on her. They got along great. I always thought they would end up together. Or hook up at the very least.”

“Huh, that’s funny,” observed Kit.

“What is?”

“When me and Mari split, I was planning on trying to set them up with Thaìs. But then I caught her ans Astrid making out in a storage closet at school. Which, in hindsight, was pretty stupid cause they were in there so I wouldn’t be sad Mari moved on when I opened the door in the first place avoiding her to call you.”

“Hmmmm.”

The gears in Ty’s head were visibly turning. Kit loved watching this process. An idea was forming in his boyfriend’s genius mind, he could sense it.

“What is their stance on monogamy?” he asked finally.

“Um, fuck, hold on. Mari sent me this whole speech about it.” Kit scrolled through his phone at a rapid rate before he saw what he was looking for. He cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:52 AM: monogamy is just another lie capitalism has fed us

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:55 AM: like, for example, the notion that house spiders are ugly and to be feared

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: it’s just to sell bug spray

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: same with monogamy

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: pointless!!!

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:58 AM: in conclusion, if I want to join a polyam cult, who tf is the government to stop me?

Kev-Kev, sent 2:01 AM: mari please go to sleep

Bless-ing_to_the_world, sent 2:04 AM: ^^^^^^^^^^^

Mitski_my_love, sent 2:05 AM: preach!

Mitski_my_love, sent 2:05 AM: go off queen

By the time Kit was finished with his dramatic reading, Ty’s plan was fully formed.

“That settles it! We are going to play matchmakers!”

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

Alyssa, Ty’s friend mentioned is @thechangeling OC, not mine.

@the-blackdale @the-wckd-powers @adoravel-fenomeno @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @illusions-give-reasons-to-live @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @sofiatheskeleton @cncnbr @its-taff @noah-herondale-lightwood @maxboythedog @arangiajoan @shelvesofgold @book-dragon-not-worm sorry if I missed anyone LMK if you want to be added or removed from The tag List!!

#mari machado sotomayor #mari machado #mari the werewolf #tiberius blackthorn #dru blackthorn #ty blackthorn #drusilla blackthorn #blessica reyes #the merry hoes #kevin chu #astrid yang #kit rook #kit herondale #thais pedroso #the secrets of blackthorn hall #the wicked powers

[cherripeach]

Chapter 9

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:1-4: Road work ahead? Uh yeah I sure hope it does. 

Warnings: Curse words, jokes about committing crimes

Words: 4.3k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

Waking up to a banging at your door only encouraged you to commit a crime. You had finally gotten an hour of sleep once someone began to bang at your door, and you had to go check it or else you would never be able to know who to put blame onto. Grim was also kicking you once you woke up, taking up the middle of the bed, mumbling something about the ghosts. You left the cat to nap upstairs if it meant he wouldn’t have to annoy you.

And going downstairs and walking to the door to hear the oh-so-arrogant Ace pleading to let him in made your day,  “ It’s me, Ace… Can you let me in for a bit?”

You opened the door to find Ace standing there with a large collar around his neck which was something you’d never thought you would see, but here you are. And you can’t thank all of the fanfiction that led you to this moment because it did not prepare you for this.

“Ace,” You yawned at him, “It’s like three in the morning. What the fuck are you doing here?”

The male had more spunk than you and declared, “I’m never returning to Heartslabyul. I’m gonna be a member of this dorm from here on!”

You sighed and pointed to the couch, “Okay, the couch is yours.”

Ace paused for a second, “You're not gonna ask why. Aren’t you concerned?”

“As I have said before, it is three in the morning, and you just interrupted the only hour of sleep I have gotten in the last 36 hours about. Either you shut up and sleep on the couch, and I’ll deal with it in the morning or you leave and sleep outside.” All of this drama was giving you a headache so you rubbed your head to get it to go away while motioning to Ace to sleep on the sofa.

Ace got situated on the sofa and thanked you, “I owe you one, supervisor.”  Within the minute he passed out.

You headed back upstairs to see Grim still in the middle of the bed, and you just fell into the chair trying to go back to sleep.

You never did.

Once the sun came up at maybe seven o’clock, you got out of the chair to go downstairs. Grim woke up once he saw you move and made grabby hands for you to pick him up while he yawned. You ran to the bathroom once you had Grim in your arms and placed Grim down on the countertop of the bathroom so that you could put back on your cloak and brush your teeth (there was a toothbrush in the bag of food that the Headmaster gave you). You spit out the toothpaste and gazed in the mirror to find your hair a little less of a mess than before but your face worse; the dark circles and maybe even acne could maybe be considered trendy and so you just went with it.

You grabbed Grim and trudged downstairs to find Ace still asleep on the sofa with a towel thrown over him.

You turned on all the lights and sweetly ripped the towel off him to persuade him to wake up which did not work, so you pulled his hair. That did the trick in five seconds with him moaning and groaning about how you should be kind to your oh-so fragile friend.

You slumped into the chair with Grim laying on your legs across from Ace staring at him as Ace rubbed his eyes and yawned while sitting up.

“So why did you get kicked out?” You asked.

Ace pulled on the collar, “I ate a tart.”

“Okay… what kind?” You probed.

“Strawberry.” His gaze shifted down before it flew back up, “Wait, why is that important?”

“I don’t know. Was just curious.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Whatever,“ Ace shook his head, “But that’s all that I did!  Only that! I got hungry, so I went to the dorm’s kitchen. The tart was just sittin’ right there inside the fridge. And like, three whole ones! That’s why…”

~~~~ A good old flashback montage was set up with Ace in a kitchen with no lights on:

Ace was mumbling to himself, “ It’s only the first day and I’m so tired~ I missed dinner, so I’m very hungry. Wonder if there’s anythin’ in the fridge... Oh, found a tart! Looks delish~!There’s a lot, so I’m not sure if I can finish it all Thanks for the food~ Whoa, what the heck?! It’s so good!”

He ended up eating the entire thing.

“Of course, it would be delicious. After all, anything that Trey makes is bound to be exquisite.” A new voice emerged belonging to a short, young man.

“Nah, man, this is something else! It’s better than the ones at the shops…” Ace nodded his head before his eyes widened while he spun around, “Wha– Prefect?!”

The short male pulled out a pen from his pocket, “Quite the boldness you have there for touching something that belongs to me. Queen of Hearts Rule #89: ‘You shall not eat tarts prepared for the Queen ahead of her.’ Larceny of the Queen’s tarts is a capital crime!” He pointed it at Ace and yelled, “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

“AHHHHHHHH!” Ace now had a collar around his neck making his head weigh more than it normally would which is still too much for a normal head. ~~~

“And that’s what happened…” Ace turns to you with a look of defeat.

You pause thinking of the correct words to say when Grim jumps on the table.

“You’ve only got yourself to blame,” He wagged his finger at Ace.

You rolled your eyes, “Honestly-”

“But ain’t it overreacting to seal my magic just ’cause I ate his tart?!” Ace interrupted you, “It’s practically the same as tying my hands and my feet! Plus, there were three whole ones! He can’t possibly finish all of those! There’s a limit to how heartless he can be!”

You put your hand up flat in Ace’s view, “Dude, for one thing, rude. Don’t interrupt me. Next, both of you are at fault. He can’t be an asshole and take away your magic for this, but you also shouldn’t have taken his food. I would have smacked ya if you had taken mine.”

“But..” Ace turned to Grim.

Grim placed his hand on his chin if that’s what you would call it, “Ah! Wait a second... If there were three whole tarts, they might’ve been prepared for the party, yanno? Like for someone’s birthday? Man, I’m such a great detective, huh!“

“Birthday?” Ace tilted his head.

You responded, “Maybe not even a birthday, but a welcome party. Something that would open up the school year. Eating an entire cake for that is kinda bad, dude.”

Ace pouted, “uh... I came here thinking that you’d agree with me about the Prefect being a little tyrant…”

“I mean, he is. But you aren’t exactly a rule follower either. Neither of you are fully at fault and neither of you are out of blame.” You motioned to him.

Grim agreed, “You are at fault for eatin’ his food.”

You shrugged, “We can try and apologize, but the best action would be to get him another tart. He is the dorm leader, so you should probably try and suck up to him.”

“Grudges over food are scary. Ah! Speaking of which, I still haven’t received my canned tuna from the Headmaster!” Grim turned to you and began tugging on your cloak repeatedly.

Ace scowled at Grim and you, “I get it. I just have to apologize, right? You suggested it, so you better come with me, Prefect…”

You rolled your eyes and nodded at him.

Grim started another opinion, “Were you here-”

Until a knock on the door interrupted him.

Ace jumped up and ran to the door while dodging dust that was falling from the ceiling shaking, “What the, who the hell’s pounding on the door so early in the morning? Ugh...! This dorm’s seriously raining dust! Got it, got it! I’ll open the door, so don’t break it!”  

A laugh burst from your lips, “Imagine having to live in it.”

Ace made it to the door right before another knock caused the house to shake and more dust to fall.

“Shut up!” Ace yanked the door open, “Deuce! What are you doing here?!”

Hearing Ace’s reaction to who was at the door you stood up and dragged yourself over to him, “Deuce can’t possibly be here at this hour-” And standing right in front of Ace was a perfect uniform Deuce with no problems besides slightly red cheeks and heavy breathing.

Deuce straightened himself up when he met your eyes but then, turned to look at the kid next to you, “I knew I would find you here.”

“Deuce??” Both you and Ace were clearly lost.

“I heard about the situation from our roommates. You ate the Prefect’s tart, so now you’ve got that collar on, haven’t you? You’re an outright idiot.” Deuce’s lecture was not helping at all by the looks of Ace curling both his hands into fists trying not to punch him.

Ace snapped, "Shut it! I don’t wanna hear that from you!” He shrunk back soon enough, “ So... Is the Prefect still mad at me..?”

Deuce shook his head, “Not completely. He’s in an irritated mood and about three people who didn’t follow the waking up routine suffered the same fate as you.”

“‘Not completely,’ my ass! He’s totally mad!” Ace whirled to you, “Prefect, can’t you please come and help me. He can’t get mad at you.” He stuck his bottom lip out and fluttered his eyelashes.

You grinned at him, “You aren’t getting out of this you big baby I won’t help you at all, but I’ll be there for moral support.”

Ace sighed, and that began the journey for you three to go to the dorm with Hearts in its name because you really don’t know the name.

You three were on the same street where Grim almost blew up a statue by the time a new conversation started.

Grim had decided to not latch onto you like a leech and instead walk by himself in front of you announcing that, “Hey! Make way, make way! I, a full-fledged Night Raven College student, is passing through!” and pulling at his collar, “Look at my collar! My collar is totally awesome compared to yours!” and then, turning to Ace to boast, “And you can’t use your magic now, can you? Guess I can have you cleaning the schools as part of your chores or something? Nyaha, this feels so good.”

“I love being surrounded by assholes.” Your eyes did not reflect the smile on your face instead they seemed to be empty and hollow.

Ace puffed out his chest, “You better remember this when I get my magic back.”

Deuce shook his head, “The Headmaster just scolded you for a ruckus you caused yesterday, remember? In any case, you won’t be able to attend classes since your magic has been sealed. How about you go and apologize to Prefect Roseheart so he can take that off?”

You nodded, grabbing Ace’s collar, “That's exactly what we were doing. Isn’t that right, dumbass number two?”

“You have me numbered?!” Ace shook to get out of your grip but you just smiled and tightened it while many other students who were passing by observed your group.

Grim voiced his thoughts, “I mean. We still have time before the next class. Plus, I’m interested in the other dorms. Let’s go observe while we watch Ace apologize.”

Ace pulled on your hands while using his legs to try and kick Grim who just chuckled and backed away, “I’m not some kinda exhibit, damn it!”

The three of you continued with Ace being dragged behind you to the ‘Mirror Chamber’ or something as Deuce said.

It was the wack place with seven large mirror gateways or something. Deuce headed to one that was slightly in the middle with a plaque shaped like a heart with a crown on top. Deuce motioned to that gate with his eyes on you as if he wanted some praise. You used your hand to ruffle his hair and then pat his head while he tilted his head further down and fidgeted with his hands.

He faced the gate and began to walk through. You followed him with Grim and Ace behind you.

Grim leaped in front of you to gape in awe of the dorm, “Whoa~! This is super fancy! It’s completely different from our dorm!”

You nodded, “It looks like it does not violate any health codes.”

A voice gulped from the maze of roses, “Oh, no. I gotta hurry and paint these roses red.”

“Oh, someone’s over there.” Grim pointed to the exact place you heard the voice.

The three of you walked until you found a male with a bucket of paint at his feet and a ladder to the left of him….. or right- directions were never your forte. The male was around average build and height with neck-length light orange hair, some pulled back. He also had earrings on, giving you somewhat e-boy vibes but not all the way. There was also a little diamond on his left cheek. There is definitely a word to describe his aesthetic, but you cannot put your tongue on it. (He gives you the vibe that he would get a tongue piercing for fun (or that he already has one))

He didn’t notice you until Grim tripped over a bucket of paint, causing you three to scramble to clean up his mess.

The male spun around to stare at the four of you trying to clean up the paint off the grass, “Hm? Did you guys need something?” Certainly seeing two teenagers one with a cloak and a rat’s nest and another who looked very similar to a mix of a delinquent and a perfect student scooping up paint would put anyone through a state of shock.

You had let go of Ace when you fell to the ground to clean up the paint, letting him sit criss cross style right behind you and Deuce so that he could be the calm one to ask, “What’re you doin’?”

The male motions at the bush, “This?” He then places one hand on his hip and the other grabs the magic pen from his blazer pocket, “As you can see, I’m painting the roses red.” He winked in the direction of your group.

You paused picking up the goopy paint to gaze incredulously at the male, “wHO the fuck paints roses? Isn’t that like not good for plants?” However, a memory was pulled from your mind from the movie Alice in Wonderland where the cards were singing a song about painting the roses red, and you could only compare the movie to this and find that there is a connection between both. You even thought back to the moments when Ace was describing the ‘Great Seven’ or whatever and mentioned the Queen of Hearts.

Deuce knocked you out of your gorgeous analytical skills, “Yeah! Why do such a thing?”

“Hm~ Your reactions are so fresh it’s kinda cute~!” The male observed all four of you and continued, “Now that I look at you closely, you guys are the freshies who totally wrecked the 10mil chandelier and caused a ruckus yesterday.”

Ace pouted behind you, “I feel like they won’t let the chandelier thing go until we graduate.”

You nodded at him, “Def.”

The male snapped his finger then pointed at Ace, “Ah, and you’re the super sinful kid who stole the Prefect’s tart! I’m so lucky to meet the rumored freshies so early in the morning~♪”

You chuckled at Ace, “It seems that what you did might be more of a concern.”

The male pulled the three of you up and fished a phone out from somewhere in his blazer, “Hey, hey~! Let’s take a pic together!” He situated the three of you in a line where he then grabbed Grim and placed him in your arms. He put the phone on camera and flipped it so it was aiming toward you five. Even though nobody was ready besides him he still snapped several pictures before letting you four go, “Yay~! Hey, can I upload this? I wanna put hashtags so tell me your names.” The male did not even give you time to consent to this picture, but he also did not seem like the type to take ‘no’.

Deuce spoke out first, “I’m Deuce Spade.”

Ace went next, “Ace.”

Grim who was still in your arms because of the male announced his name, “I’m Grim and that’s my follower,” He didn’t even state your name.

You just sighed and told the orange haired male your name, and then apologized for all of the problems your little group has caused.

The male was just fidgeting with his phone not even paying any attention to you, but once a noise came from his phone he looked up at all of you, “Alright, upload done~♪ Oh, I’m Cater Diamond, a 3rd year. That makes me your senior~ Call me Cater-kun, okay? Cate’s fine, too~♡ Heya, heya”

You just wanted to get this whole experience over with, “Sure, senior-dude.”  

Cat turned to you and tried to start a decent conversation, “Oh, you’re the new prefect for Ramshackle Dorm! I’m surprised you can live in a place like that~! It’s so dark, and I feel like something’s gonna pop out~ I feel for ya”

“I don’t need your pity but thanks.” You smiled at the male holding back your urge to leave the conversation.

Grim crossed his arms, “This guy’s being pretty rude.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t be standing here and talking! The party’s the day after tomorrow. It’s off with my head if I’m late.” Cat walked in the direction of the flowers he was working on before everyone entered, “Hey, hey, freshies~ Can you help me with painting the flowers?”

Ace shook his head, “Why’re you doing somethin’ so strange?”

“And why do we have to help anyway.”  You were getting a headache from this conversation alone.

“I mean, won’t it be more photogenic if the roses were red for the party~?” The orange head leaned back with his hands behind his neck while whistling, “I’m really busy because I’m also in charge of coloring the flamingos for the croquet match~”

Grim barked, “Dying the flamingos?! That’s a pretty weird job.”

“So, the tarts that Ace ate were to be used for the Prefect’s birthday party? I see now.” Deuced muttered out to himself in realization, “So that’s why he was so mad…”

“What?” Cat made an ‘X’ sign with his two arms, “That’s not it.”

Ace interrogated the senior, “It ain’t?! Then whose birthday is it?”

Cat shook his head, “It’s no one’s birthday. The day after tomorrow is our Dorm’s legendary Unbirthday Party. It’s a tea party that the Prefect felt like doing, so he chose a day that doesn’t fall on anyone’s birthday.” The male grabbed his pen and began to mumble something before a light came out of the pen which he then flicked onto the roses.

Ace did not want to finish the conversation, “The hell’s that?”

“In any case the reason can wait.” He waved his hand back and forth motioning to your group to join him, “You just have to help me paint the roses!” He turned his vision away from what he was doing to look at your group, “Deuce-chan and Grim-chan can use magic, right? Ace-chan and Prefect can’t use magic, so here’s a paintbrush~” He pulled two paintbrushes out of nowhere and gave them to you and Ace

Deuce and Grim started panicking and asking Cat all sorts of questions about magic and changing the color of a rose, but you just gazed at the paintbrush in absolute confusion.

“Wait, where is my consent in this?” It seemed no one would ever listen to you.

A song filled the air once the three with magic got to work, causing you to twist your head in every direction to find where it was coming from. It did not affect any of the others as they were still working on painting the roses. The four even had at least two different conversations about the roses to the beat of the music where the music would quiet and slow down for them. This further confused you until Cat yelled at you to “Get to work because I am not getting younger here.” So you lept to work and ended up only painting one still in pure shock from the fact that only you can hear the music.

Once the music stopped and Grim tugged your arm to get you to move to a certain section of the mush where he announced his accomplishments, “Behold! I made them all red this time!”

You clapped and snorted out, “Congrats, oh, Great Grim.” However, it didn’t really seem to offend him even with your blandness as he just skipped over to join Ace and Deuce to get back to work.

The music returned after that.

The three troublemakers of your group were in a conversation with the senior talking about “tradition” or something like that. You just tried to get another rose painted before school started.

You finished the rose and joined the part of the conversation when Ace asked Cat, “Oh, that’s right. I don’t have the time to be standing here. I got something to discuss with the Dorm Head. Is he still inside?”

You slapped your forehead and muttered, “Of course, we forgot that.”

“Hm? I think he should still be there…” Cat put his chin in the middle of his thumb and pointer finger, and then he made a finger gun motion to Ace, “By the way, Acey who stole the Prefect’s tart~ Have you brought some tarts to make up for what you took~?”

“Eh? I came straight here, so I got nothing…” Ace even pulled his pockets inside out to emphasize that he has nothing.

“Oh, man~ Izzat so? Then, since Rule #53 of the Queen of Hearts states that “You have to replace things that you stole.” I can’t let you back in the dorm.” Suddenly, a glare was on Cat’s face as he grabbed his magic pen.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground next to Ace’s feet. “Huh?! What the heck?!” Ace jumped back to join your group who were all slowly walking away from this situation.

Cater twirled his pen in his hand, “You have to follow the rules if you’re staying in this dorm. If I let it slide, then it’s off with my head, too. Sorry, but I’ll have you leave before Riddle-kun notices.” The pen was now pointing at your group.

Ace stepped behind you, “Wha—He looks totally serious…! You guys, do something!”

“Why me?” Deuce looked flabbergasted at the male.

Ace connected his hands and fluttered his eyelashes in Deuce’s direction, “I’m begging you! I can’t use magic right now–!”

“Fine, fine, fine. You just owe me one.” You threw your hands up in the air in defeat just wanting to get this over with.

“Ah, here he comes!” Ace bellowed out.

The battle commenced between Deuce, Cater, and Grim, but your idiots seemed to be losing. While their attacks were hitting Cater, he popped back up almost as quickly as he fell. The three were slowly pushed back and back into the hedge behind all of you, shoving you up against it while Ace was right in front of you.

You solved him off, “Get off! We aren’t gonna win, so let’s get out!”

The three heard you, nodded, and followed swiftly behind you.

Ace grumbled, “What’s with that guy?” He shook his head while all three of you walked out of the rose maze.

Deuce tilted his head, “He came standing back up no matter how much we hit him. Is it illusory magic, I wonder…?” He raised one of his eyebrows because shaking his head.

“Maybe he’s just trying to be an ass,” You just giggled from where you were walking behind the two idiots while Grim was on your shoulder. Both of them were lowkey panicking from what you could tell.

Ace stomped his feet and threw his hands up in exasperation, “I can’t get back in without a tart, right? I’ve been empty-handed since forever, man. He kicked us out after he made us help with the flowers, too!”

“I’m disappointed.” Grim crossed his arms while he was on your shoulder.

You narrowed your eyes, “In who, Grim?”

“Then, we’ll have to prepare some tarts to make up for it. After school would be” Deuce clenched his fist, but then looked at his watch and screamed, “—Ah!!!! This is bad!!!!”

“Huh?” You and Grim were puzzled by the boy’s sharp and erratic movements.

He grabbed your hand and started to jog while staring at his watch, “This is bad, it’s way past call time! We’re going to be late!”

“It's not the end of the world” You brushed your hand through your hair.

Grim jumped off your shoulder and started to run in front of you, “Uwah! The first day of my shining school life will be tarnished! Let’s hurry to the classroom! Come on!” He pulled on your cloak to get you moving.

“Oh, no late on the first day.” You placed both of your hands around your mouth as if you were making a surprised or scared face, “At least I showed up to class.” You rolled your eyes.

“Speaking of, what’s your class?” Ace faced you questioning, “You’re a 1st year, right?”

Grim nodded his head, “The Headmaster said we’re in Class 1-A!” He smirked at you.

“Wait, when did he say that?” Your eyes widened and you halted your step. “Did he ever say that?”

“Right after he gave you the ghost camera thing,” Grim shook his head.

Deuce hit his open palm with his fist, “Oh, then we’re in the same class.” He took out his schedule, “First period is all about Magical Alchemy.”

Grim pumped up his fists, “Yahoo! That sounds fun!”

“I can't use magic, remember? Am I gonna be okay…?” Ace whined while biting his thumb’s nail.

“Definitely. It’s probably just syllabus week anyway.” You shrugged your shoulders, “Also what’s magical alchemy?” You hope it's something that makes explosions.

And the three of you were off to your homeroom of the day, starting your high school career at Twisted Wonderland with these idiots.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola #twst grim #cater diamond #riddle rosehearts #twst x you

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, some mild smut.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: All I can say is: I’m sorry. My head is a strange place.

Chapter 29

  “Marcus!! Oh, get that sweet tush over here and hug me, and you better make it a good one after you’ve neglected to visit my cave for longer than these magic hands care to remember.”

  You already loved Velma.

  “Hey, Vel. I’m sorry, I’ve been preoccupied.”

  He did hug her, and properly too, as well as about 10s longer than what would be considered socially acceptable for mere friends, without either of them seeming to find it weird or awkward at all.   You still loved her.

  “Thank you, my darling. You’re forgiven. Now, tell me what you’ve brought me?”

  He beamed at you. He really did love any opportunity to show you off, but he seemed especially pleased about this introduction.

  “Velma, this is my fiancé. Hermosa, as you’ve undoubtedly gathered – this is the one and only Velma.”

  “Your fi… You’re getting… And you’re here. You brought her to me! Are you…?”

  “Yes. I am. On both counts.”

  “YES!! Thank the Greek fucking Gods!! A wedding-dress, and for you, my darling, of all people! Thank you.”

  “Well, technically it’s for her.”

  “Oh, no, sugar. The dress is for the groom. The shoes – are for the bride.”

  She finally set all of her glorious attention on you.

  Velma was a drag-queen, and the most awe-inspiring individual you’d ever seen. Everything about her was superior. She was taller than anyone else in the room, helped by fucking spectacular plateau shoes, she was broad-shouldered and muscular to boot. She carried herself like an empress, with a kind of stillness and real elegance, despite having so much flare and finesse to her. And even though she was covered in colours and sparkles, she somehow looked like she would belong absolutely anywhere.   And when she actually looked you in the eye, you could almost feel her read the pages of the book that was your life, and yet, there was nothing intimidating about it.

  “Well, now. There’s a lot of story here, isn’t there?”

  “A bit. Yeah.”

  “Mm. Alright then, come with me, darling. I demand to know every little detail about the woman my Marcus has chosen.”

  She turned dramatically, and headed for a side-door in the studio workshop where you were, and you looked at Marcus with a wide grin.

  “She’s coming to the wedding.”

  “Don’t worry – she’s on the list.”

  “I don’t care about any list. She’s coming. I need that amount of sparkle at my wedding. And I’m not just talking about the clothes.”

  He chuckled happily as he watched you literally skip over to the open door, and disappear inside.

-----

  Three weeks later, you finally got around to getting your house sold. It was a fairly quick sale since the neighbourhood was nice and the yard was bigger than most other properties on that street. And since you didn’t really need the extra money, you could give the young couple that fell in love with it, a kind price.   You weren’t really particularly sorry to see it go, but you were very happy to see it fall into the hands of people who would appreciate it. For a long time, that house had been your refuge, your safe harbour when life got hard, and you wished that it could be the same for someone else.   You put the bulk of the money in your savings-account, and ear-marked the rest for wedding-expenses.   There still wasn’t really any actual planning going on, as far as dates and times and venues were concerned. But you and Marcus were still getting through a lot of the stuff that goes on around the actual day.   You’d settled on what colours you wanted for the flowers, and what types they should be. You’d had an almost outrageously fun day last weekend, trying out the recipes for all the wedding-cakes you’d both found online. And after soiling literally every inch of the kitchen with flour, and tasting so many different cakes your taste-buds had eventually given up, you had managed to conclude that you wanted a lemon-flavoured one. Missy had tried to get you onto the chocolate-train, but you’d held your ground, with the promise that there would indeed be chocolate present, just not in the cake.   You’d completed the guest-list, and chosen the invitation cards, but they were safely stowed away in a drawer, still unwritten.   It wasn’t that you were stalling or didn’t feel ready. You were just genuinely enjoying the preparations, and not having that deadline made them feel like they were just fun things to do over a weekend, rather than things you had to do to be ready in time. Especially since Missy loved being a part of it too, it made the whole thing feel like a prolonged family event.

  By now, the only thing that was still on the prep-list was Marcus’ suit, but you’d both agreed not to make any decisions on that until you’d seen what Velma did with your dress.   You’d spent two whole days in her cave, getting your measurements taken and your skin-tone evaluated. There were about a hundred things about your body that she’d wanted to know, but you trusted her with your life already, so you’d happily complied.   Plus; any excuse to spend time with her was a good one.   Work was finally becoming manageable again, as you’d finally caught up on all the stuff that was trailing behind, and you were deliberately keeping any and all new projects firmly steered in other directions or delegating them onto other designers. You had enough on your plate with just getting through the already started ones, on top of the wedding-planning.   Today had been a good day, so far, and you’d decided to go and find Marcus and see if he had time to join you for lunch.   When you approached his office, his door was open and you could hear Tech talking. Not wanting to interrupt, you stopped outside and out of sight, while you waited for their conversation to finish. You picked up your phone to send an e-mail while you waited.

  “I can’t believe that building was still standing after that.”

  “Crushing lost control for three seconds. Let’s just be grateful it wasn’t longer.”

  “Oh, I remember that time back in the beginning when he was out of it for like 20 seconds.”

  “I think most of Colombia remembers that, too.”

  “Probably.”

  “Hey, um. Speaking of losing control…”

  “What?”

  “Well, there’s a certain office on the other side of the building that gets a fair bit of noise-complaints.”

  You snapped out of your e-mailing and instinctively turned your head to listen closer.

  “Stay out of it, Tech.”

  “Hey, I’m not the filing them, and I never will. I’m all for healthy appetites. Just wondering if you’re aware of the fact that a lot of people are talking about you guys?”

  “So? Let ‘em talk.”

  “Sure. But they’re not talking about it being a nuisance or inappropriate. They’re talking about how the hell you can keep it up for three hours straight sometimes. Is that true, though?”

  You weren’t sure if you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you, or if you wanted to go find these people and tell them to mind their own business.   There was a brief pause before Marcus answered, and his voice was a bit lower than before.

  “It is. I seriously can’t get enough of her. Ever. No matter how tired I get, I can always go another round.”

  “That’s kind of amazing. How do you ever get anything done?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Any idea when the knot-tying might be happening?”

  “No. I’m dying to do it, to the point where I have to repeatedly tell myself not to just beg her to go to Vegas with me. But I also really wanna get it right, you know? Not necessarily perfect; just right. Right for us. And I want her to feel ready, so that she can just relax and enjoy that day, whenever it happens.”

  Your heart swelled to an almost painful size behind your ribs.

  “I am ready, honey.”

  You stepped over the threshold and watched as his expression turned from confusion to realisation as he saw you.

  “You wouldn’t have to beg. I’d go to Vegas with you right now if you asked. I’ve told you; I don’t really care how it happens. I’m enjoying the preparations and everything we’re doing together, but even if nothing ever got used, I wouldn’t feel like I missed out on anything. You’re the one that wanted the traditions, remember?”

  Tech excused himself at that point, and closed the door behind him after he left.

  “Do you still want all that, Marcus?”

  He looked so torn.

  “Damned it… Yes. I really do.”

  “Then let’s pick a date. Let’s find a place that feels right and let’s make it happen.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Are you ready?”

  He shot up from his chair and was suddenly holding your waist, staring into your eyes.

  “Ah, mi novia, I’ve been ready for a long time.”

  His hands migrated down to your ass, and you let him squeeze you to him. You were wearing a simple blue summer-dress today, and he quickly found his way underneath it, letting his hands run up your thighs and relieve you of your panties.   Then he pulled you along to the sofas, sitting down and urging you to straddle him.   It was almost strange how calm it was. The two of you were always so heated, so passionate whenever you came together, to the point where it was almost always beyond your control, or at least, on the very edge of it.   But this time, there was no tearing at each other’s clothes. No hands desperately grasping, needing and demanding more. No burning heat that made you feel empty and aching until he entered you.   The heat did come, but gradually. With each caress, each tender kiss and each movement of your bodies together, it slowly built from an ember to a flame.   Your walls actually allowed him to move inside you this time, and as you rocked yourself over him, a completely different kind of pleasure to what you’d become used to with him, built inside your core and seemed to reach towards your heart, instead of your sex.   After a while, he turned you both to the side so he could lay you down and settle himself on top of you, and that feeling that was creeping towards your chest, drastically intensified. He drove into you in long, strong thrusts that buried him as deep as your bodies would allow, each time, and his throat made involuntary little sounds of pleasure every time he returned into your wet and welcoming warmth.   It took you nearly thirty minutes to build to a climax this time, and when it finally hit, it was strong in a completely different way than it ever had been before. Your bodies didn’t curl or clench in on themselves, there were no involuntary power-outbursts, no levitation. But it felt like you were underneath each other’s skin. Like your hearts actually melded into one through the intricate contact of your skin and nerves.   It was utterly overwhelming and there were tears streaming from your eyes throughout the whole climax. And they didn’t stop, even after you’d come back down.   There was no pain or sorrow anywhere inside you in that moment, so you concluded that these were tears of pure love and you made no effort to stop them. You just held him close and waited for the feeling to burn itself out.   He burrowed his face into your neck while you laid there, feeling the tears as they passed over onto his cheek on their way down, but making no comment about them. He knew what they were, and it made him love them too.

  You took a late lunch together, and since the pills were working perfectly and the lab had been able to produce several months-worth already, you could enjoy eating like a normal person these days.   Marcus really did miss your stomach-bear, though, and he would occasionally drop comments like ‘this is one of those moments when mama bear would have roared’, and you felt a little bit sorry for him. It was like he’d lost a puppy.   While you ate, you started discussing what places you thought might be nice for a venue.

  “Churches are nice, but a bit… I hesitate to say ‘stuffy’.”

  “Yeah. They feel so formal, like you’re not allowed to have fun, and I really want us and our guests to feel like we’re allowed to have fun.”

  “Definitely. So, what about restaurants?”

  “Not my thing, if I’m honest, hermosa.”

  “I figured. Pavilion?”

  “Now, we’re talking. A big one, with lots of decorations and a dance-floor!”

  “You and your dancing.”

  “Oh, no; you’re the dancer, remember?”

  “And your foxtrot is adequate, but your waltz needs some work.”

  “Thanks. So, do we know of any potentially available pavilions, or are we gonna have to build one?”

  “Don’t you worry about that, sugar-plum, if it’s a pavilion you’re looking for – I know the perfect one.”

  Velma approached your table, wearing an even more daring outfit than last time you’d seen her. As always, she made a show of eyeing Marcus up and down and making appreciative noises to showcase his hunky-ness. And, as always, Marcus just smiled and let her do her thing.

  “Where is it?”

  “Didn’t I just tell you not to worry? I’ll take you to see it later if you want, but for now – I need to borrow your little cherry, here. Time to dolly you up, hon.”

  “It’s finished?”

  “Literally seconds ago. I came to find you right away, I need to see it on you before I can definitively say that it’s done.”

  Marcus beamed at you both while Velma slipped her arm through yours and led you back to her cave.

  Somehow, you’d expected it to be difficult to get into, or at least require assistance, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t a big or flaunty thing, nor was it heavy or complicated in its design. And yet, there was something so special about it.   It was snow-white with a hint of gold to the shimmer in the fabric, to match the rings. It was an off the shoulder style dress, with long sleeves in the most beautiful lace you’d ever seen, that carried over into the body of the dress as well, though it was purely ornamental there, as the actual body was made from satin.   From the waist down, there was no lace, but tiny golden details had been sewn into the satin and it made the dress come alive somehow.   The skirt was cleverly designed, so that it billowed out just a little, but without getting puffy, and it was still just two layers, making it easy to handle and comfortable to move in. There was no train, but she had made you a vail in the same exquisite lace, in case you decided that you wanted one.

  “Oh, my. Honey… I thought it looked gorgeous on the mannequin, but damn! You make this dress.”

  “It’s perfect, Velma. It’s everything I didn’t know I wanted.”

  “Marcus is gonna swoooooon…”

  “He’s gonna love it.”

  “Well, just make sure to have someone strong standing next to him so they can catch him when he inevitably goes down.”

  You just smiled at her.

  “Oh, and thank you for the shoes. You’re right, I’m gonna love these a lot more than the dress before the night’s over.”

  “You got that right, Cherie.”

  You met up with Marcus as soon as you were done in the cave, and the smile that lit up his face when he saw you carrying the special box that housed the dress, shoes and vail, could have put the sparkles in Velma’s very short skirt to shame.

  “You actually have it? It’s finished?”

  “It’s right in here.”

  He looked positively squirmy with anticipation.

  “And it’s even more beautiful than anything you’ve imagined. Trust me.”

  He chuckled.

  “I do.”

  Velma took you out to see the pavilion she’d mentioned, and it really was perfect. It sat on several acres of green lawns and meadows, with a large pond not too far from the structure. You could have the ceremony out on the grass, overlooking the water, and put up a canopy over the tables and chairs for the dinner and cake. And then move over to the pavilion for the dancing and fun-times. There were huge old oak-trees framing the entire area, giving the whole place a bit of a fairy-tale feeling.

  “Marcus, we have to pick a date. We have to find out if this place is available for us.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that, honey-bun. It’ll be available whenever you want it.”

  Velma gave you this knowing look and you gawked at her.

  “You own this place?”

  “For a long time now. I only use it for very special occasions, and I don’t go blabbering about it to every Joe and Willy looking for a party-house. But for you, my turtle-doves, it’ll always be available.”

  By the time you went to bed that day, you’d not only picked a date, but completed and sent all of the invitations as well.   You were going to get married on the ten-month anniversary of when you first opened your eyes and saw him by your bedside, which gave you roughly a month to get everything ready. And since you had everything pretty much figured out already, that wasn’t going to be a hard deadline to keep.

  Or, so you thought.

  But the day before the wedding came at you like you’d somehow fallen asleep at the wheel going 200mph down the highway.   Suddenly it was all happening. And while you were totally ready emotionally, you were also just not ready over-all, and you woke up that morning feeling sick. Actually sick.   Marcus was too excited to get more than 4h of sleep per night in the week leading up to that day, but he didn’t want to disturb you, so he’d gotten up and left the bedroom some time earlier that morning.   You walked into the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face but it didn’t do much to alleviate the nausea, so you gave up and just got dressed instead.

  “Hey, alma, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sweetie, just feeling a little overwhelmed I guess.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. The wedding is happening, come hell or high water.”

  “Good.”

  “Where’s Marcus?”

  “He got called in to work really early, some crisis with a blue-whale, I think.”

  “Okay, well, then I’ll drive you to school.”

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t just take a sick-day?”

  “I’m not gonna be helped by sitting here wringing my hands all day. Let’s go, Maid of Honour.”

  She smiled at that, but then frowned.

  “You’re not gonna have breakfast?”

  “Kid, I’ll be happy if I can keep the damned pill down this morning.”

  You dropped her off and went to work, intending to treat this like any other Friday. But when you stepped into your office, there was a weird smell that just set off all your senses, and you had to duck over the first available trashcan and vomit. Since your stomach was empty, all that came up was bile, and that somehow made you even more nauseas.

  What the fuck was that smell?

  You abandoned your office and headed for Marcus’ instead. It smelled fine, so you sat down at his computer and used your own login to access your files and get to work.   But after about an hour you’d had to visit his bathroom three times as your stomach continued to try and cough up shit that wasn’t even there, and you gave up, and headed down to medical.

  You had just intended to ask for some anti-nausea medication, but because of your medical history, they insisted on an exam to rule out any possible delayed complications.

  You left medical in a daze, not even realising where you were going before you found yourself back in Marcus’ office.   You sat down in one of the sofas and just waited. You didn’t dare to even try and feel anything without him there, because you were afraid that you might suddenly feel way too much, and you needed him to be there, to keep you calm if that happened.   Some time later, Crushing ducked his head in and had to almost shout to get your attention.

  “Huh… What?”

  “I said, Marcus went home straight from the mission, two hours ago, he had something he wanted to get done for tomorrow. So, there’s no need to wait for him here.”

  “Oh. What time is it?”

  “Almost five.”

  “Shit…”

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “I hope so. Yes. I mean, yes.”

  “Want me to take you home?”

  “No, I’ll be fine, thanks Crush.”

  You drove home being almost ridiculously cautious and you laughed a little at yourself when you parked the car, next to Marcus’.   You were surprised to find the front door locked. You never locked the door when you were home. They must have gone out on foot for some reason.   Fishing your keys out of your bag, you unlocked it and stepped inside, and you were just about to call out to see if anyone was home, when you heard a sound that made every hair on your body stand straight up.   It was a mechanical sound, a machine of some sort. You couldn’t identify it, but your body sure as hell remembered it.   Walking into the living room, a fear unlike anything you’d ever felt before, flooded every cell inside of you.   Your own blood rushing in your ears drowned out the sound of your keys and handbag falling to the floor, as you tried to take in what you were seeing.

  Tubes… wires… computers… machines… bags of liquids… chairs that weren’t chairs but fucking instruments of torture. Two of them. One for Marcus… and one for Missy.   And right in between them – Dr. Prince.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​ @farfromjustordinary @allmyspideys @hrk-fic-recs @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[thechangeling]

Lost and Found:

Happy birthday Alex! @catadorass I hope this is everything you wanted, or at least sort of what you wanted lol. I wrote this from Ty's pov because it's really importance to showcase his side of the story. 

Nothing about us without us Cassie. 

"Hey can we talk" Ty heard Kit ask from behind him. 

It was late. Very late, most likely past 12 by this point and they had all just finished doing another late night round of frustrating and pointless research. They being, Ty, Kit, Dru, Jaime, Janessa a wayward Vampire who traveled all over with her band, but was originally from LA, Thais a Brazilian Shadowhunter who was dating Janessa, and Ash, the son of Sebastian Morgenstern and The Seelie Queen who had betrayed Janus, who had tasked Ash with infiltrating the Los Angeles institute and killing Kit. However, Ash and Kit had ended up bonding immensely. This had caused Ash to essentially switch sides and work towards protecting Kit from Janus trying to kill him. There was also The Seelie Queen trying to abduct him in order to obtain control of his powers, and generally anyone else who wanted to get their hands on the first heir.

At first Ty was a little worried that Ash was in love with Kit, but the pair seemed to be very platonic, just heavily invested in one another like Kit and Janessa. And of course Ty had no business being jealous either way. He and Kit had both been engaged in various- well relationships wasn't the right word, but various flings of sorts over the past few months, but he still couldn't help but think of Kit as his.

Which didn't make any sense because Kit had left.

What made even less sense was that Ty still loved him.

Ty braced himself and then turned to face Kit. It was clear how exhausted he was from the events of the past few weeks. They were up against The Seelie Queen, Janus, The Cohort, also several supernatural disturbances that didn't make a lot of sense. Anush, his friend at the scholomance was researching the problem there. It was quite possible that it had to do with Livvy's presence.

Ty really didn't want to think about that.

He also really missed Alyssa, a new friend of his that he had met while she was studying at the scholomance. But she had left to rejoin her werewolf pack in New York. They had bonded over both being autistic, and in moments where Ty was anxious or overwhelmed he wished he could summon her to his side.

Moments like this one.

Livvy was hovering nearby, giving him a look over Kit's shoulder. Ty ignored it.

Ty nodded at Kit without fully meeting his eyes. "Fine. We can talk. Liv can you leave us alone for a moment?" He asked. Livvy scowled slightly, but did as she was told. Looking back at Kit he couldn't help but still be slightly comforted by his presence. And even though Kit was visibly worn out and stressed, he was still the most beautiful thing Ty had ever seen.

Ty did his best to remain as cold as possible. "What do you want Kit?" He asked harshly. Kit flinched slightly in response, and Ty was caught in between feeling victorious and feeling like he had just been stabbed. Kit shook his head slightly.

"Come on Ty aren't you sick of this? Don't you miss me? The way things used to be?" Kit inquired angrily. "I'm sorry I left. But I forgave you. Isn't it time you forgave me?"

Ty honestly had no words. He just continued to glare at Kit. Did Kit honestly not have a single idea what Ty was feeling?

But wasn't it obvious? How hurt he was? How utterly broken he was?

Ty took a long deep breath to keep himself calm. His fingers were aggressively flicking at his sides. Kit took his silence as a sign to keep talking.

"Look. I talked to Dru."

Seriously. Now we're involving my sister in this? As if Livvy wasn't already bad enough?

"She sort of helped me realize some things, you know" Kit continued. "She pointed out to me that I should ask you how you feel, instead of just assuming that I already know." Kit was nervously shifting back and forth on the spot.

"Wow" Ty muttered sarcastically under his breath. He looked Kit dead in the eye and spoke. "What a revolutionary concept. That I should be allowed to speak for myself for once, and not have you, Drusilla or anyone else do it for me."

Kit sighed, his eyes softening. It was in that moment that Ty was close to forgiving him.

He desperately wanted to be able to run to Kit and throw his arms around him. To hold him, and kiss him and tell him how much Ty had missed him and that he was so brave and beautiful and sweet, and that Ty belonged to him.

But Ty couldn't cave now. Not until he made Kit understand.

"I'm sorry ok?" Kit pleaded. "I get why you're pissed but-"

Ty couldn't help it. He laughed. Even though nothing about this situation was in any way humorous. "No Kit." He shook his head. "You really don't."

Kit looked a little angry at that.  Fine. Ty thought.  If you hurt me then I'll just hurt you back.

"Fine." Kit breathed, his voice sounding surprisingly gentle.  "Then tell me."

Ty was instantly brought back to the roof of the London institute. Tell me. Tell me what you need. He willed himself not to cry.

Ty took a deep breath, glaring at Kit. "Alright. Here's the thing. I am angry. I'm so angry that I can hardly breathe and no one notices." Ty snapped.

Kit opened his mouth to interject but Ty shook his head, eyes blazing with fury and tears. "No!" He shouted. "You said your piece already. Now let me say mine."

Kit stayed silent.

"I am quite literally always dealing with everything coming at me all at once, and Kit I know this is a very horrible situation for you, but I am just as stressed as you are, because despite what you might believe, I don't want you to fucking die!" Ty screamed.

Kit looked absolutely horrified. Ty was pretty sure he had never heard him swear before.

"I'm dealing with new people, new dangers, and I might lose Livvy again. I have all of this stress, all of this sensory information bombarding me 24/7. We barely sleep! We're all constantly together when we're awake! There's no time for me to stim, no time to breathe because we are all working to rescue you from your own fate!" He shouted. "And I'll do it too! Because of course I will! "It doesn't matter if I'm angry, or stressed, or tired, or scared! It doesn't matter that you broke my heart when you left me because for some unknown reason, you thought I could handle it!" Ty cried.

Kit was shaking his head. But he didn't look angry, just devastated. "Ty" he whispered, but Ty cut him off.

"Everybody always seems to think I'm either unbreakable or far too fragile and I need to be coddled and I'm sick of it. "I'm furious with you for promising that you wouldn't leave, and then telling me that you wished you had never met me when I thought I was never going to get Livvy back" Ty sobbed.

Kit gasped. Ty noticed that his eyes were filled with tears. Kit shook his head aggressively. "Sweetheart no" he breathed. "I didn't mean that. I swear."

Ty heard himself make an unrecognizable sound. His fingers were now aggressively fluttering at his sides. He clenched them into fists to stop them from moving. Kit began to step forward then stopped himself.

"Sweetheart" Ty whispered under his breath in awe. Alyssa had once told him that what he was doing now was called sub-vocalizing.  He could hear her voice in his head. When our brains get stuck on a word or a phrase because it was so shocking or we can't stop thinking about it, or it brought out a huge emotional reaction in us, then we mouth it or we say it out loud over and over again.

"Sweetheart" he mouthed, warmth overflowing his body.

"I'm- I'm sorry" Kit stammered. "I didn't mean to upset you." Ty recovered himself quickly, shaking his head.

"No it's fine" he said firmly. "You just surprised me." Kit looked down at the ground. He looked embarrassed, defeated. He looked exactly the way he looked on the beach three years ago.

No. No don't go there. He doesn't really love you.

Ty continued on. "And at least I got Livvy back in a sense, but you still left me and I didn't survive that." There were fresh tears running down his face. Exhaustion was definitely catching up with him.  Ty partly just wanted to let it go and go to sleep, but he needed Kit to understand.

"You cannot under any circumstances ever tell an autistic person that you're never leaving and then go back on your word Kit!" Ty exclaimed. "This is why we all have trust issues! Because we're naive, so we let our guards down because we just want someone to choose us. Not out of pity but out of genuine love. And it wasn't like this had never happened to me before but you were supposed to be different." Ty said defeated. He looked over at Kit and waited for Kit's eyes to meet his.

Ty had always hated eye contact. Mostly because it physically hurt and made him feel really awkward, but also because it felt too open. Too vunrable. As though someone could see into his soul and know all of his secrets just by looking.

Well he had never felt that way with Kit. Or maybe he just had never cared about letting Kit really see him. All of him. And they didn't have any secrets from each other. At least not anymore. Kit looked back at him and Ty could see it all. Hurt, exhaustion, longing, and love.

Love?  Ty shook his head, physically willing himself not to be sucked in.

But there was no point.

"And that's why I fell in love with you" Ty admitted.

Kit's eyes widened almost comically. He inhaled sharply staring at Ty with an expression Ty was having trouble placing. Up until tonight, Ty hadn't actually looked at Kit. He had been avoiding it for some time now. Most likely because he was afraid of what he might see. Would he recognize the person that Kit had become?

But all Ty could see now was what he had actually been avoiding from Kit all those years ago. It was that look of complete awe and adoration. Like Ty had all of the answers to the secrets of the universe.

And Ty really really really didn't.

It was painful, because as much as he was angry with Kit, he also didn't want to hurt him or let him down again.

Ty fought to keep his voice steady as he spoke. "The worst part is, in the end I know i'll probably forgive you eventually. I will do what I always do. Take the high road. Be the bigger person and let it go because I have to. Because I'm never allowed to be angry Kit, and I'm not allowed to hold grudges because everyone is always convinced that I'm overreacting." Ty said bitterly.

 "So it doesn't matter that you hurt me. It doesn't matter how many nights I spent crying myself to sleep at the scholomance or how many bad decisions I made during some futile attempt to feel something other then pain, and it doesn't matter that you might hurt me again" Ty lamented. He was fully aware that he was crying, but that didn't matter anymore.

Kit was staring at him dumbfounded like Ty was speaking another language, but the pain in his eyes was clear.

Ty shrugged slightly. "I'll still love you Kit, no matter what, because that's just how I am."

Kit took a deep breath, wiping away at his tears. "Ty- I'm so sorry. I-             I didn't know" he stammered. Kit slowly began to approach Ty, carefully as if he were a wounded animal. "I'm sorry I didn't think about it like that. When I told you I loved you and you didn't say anything back, I just assumed you didn't want me, that you didn't care." He was standing directly in front of Ty now, and Ty couldn't help but stare into his eyes.

Suddenly, Ty was overwhelmed with the powerful urge to touch him. To reach out and comfort him. For Ty it was almost as instinctive as breathing. Instead he just shook his head.

"That's not true, it never was" Ty said adamently. "I was torn apart. Everything with Livvy was just too overwhelming and I just couldn't lose her Kit!" He protested forcefully. "But I always cared about you. I honestly just thought you knew."

Kit paused for a moment, then slowly reached for Ty's hand. Ty didn't fight him, only watched as Kit traced the lines on his hand. After a pause, Kit looked back up at him. " You're right. I shouldn't have assumed. I should have just asked you how you felt" Kit admitted. "I'm so sorry Ty." His voice broke. "I'm so sorry for leaving, for making you feel like I didn't care." Kit lifted his other hand, the one that wasn't holding onto Ty, and placed his palm softly on the side of Ty's cheek. He shook his head, almost in disbelief.

Ty fought the urge to close his eyes and lean into it.

Kit continued. "Honestly the truth is Ty, I fucking adore you. I love you so much." Ty heard himself inhale sharply. Kit was so close now, only centameters apart. It wouldn't take much just to lean over and kiss him.

Wait.

No. Not yet.

We're not done.

Ty scoffed slightly. "Yeah you say that Kit, but at the end of the day those are just words. Pretty, empty words." Ty almost regreted it as soon as he saw the look on Kit's face. Up close he could see the heartbreak in his eyes. Ty could also see the dark circles under his eyes which were a little red. He could see the dried tears smeared across Kit's cheeks.

Ty couldn't help but look at the broken boy in front of him and hate himself a little for the damage he had clearly caused.

Look at what you did to him, a cruel voice inside him whispered.

This is what you do. You hurt people, break their hearts and make them regret ever knowing you. This is all that you are. Selfish, cold and cruel.

Ty shook it off. It wasn't true. He loved Kit, just as he loved his family and his friends. It didn't matter that there were some people who refused to see that, refused to see that just because he felt differently, didn't mean that he was unable to feel. Some days, the sheer strength of what he felt for Kit threatened to break him in half it was so powerful. It was almost too much to bare. So Ty squashed it down and pushed it to the side, molded it so that it was more manageable and less scary.

Kit let out a soft breath of air and closed his eyes, he let go off Ty and dropped his head forward so that it was resting against Ty's shoulder. Kit was slightly shorter then Ty which Ty had always found amusing. Kit, less so, but secretly one of the things Ty had always loved about their height difference was that he could tuck Kit into the nape of his neck. Ty loved the feeling of Kit's curls against his skin.

"This isn't empty Ty" he murmured, nuzzling the side of Ty's neck. "This is everything."

 Kit's voice was so quiet that Ty almost didn't hear him.

Kit pulled back slightly and tilted his head up to look at Ty. They were so close that their noses were slightly touching. Kit was staring up at him through half-lidded eyes. His hands were trailing up Ty's arms, pulling slightly at the fabric of his sleeves. His lips were parted slightly, staring up at Ty with so much love in his eyes.

"Beautiful" Ty whispered under his breath.

 Kit looked utterly beautiful, and before Kit had the chance to answer him Ty was pressing his mouth to Kit's in a deep passionate kiss. The moment their lips touched, Ty almost let out a sigh of relief, sliding his hands up to Kit's face to cup his cheeks. Kit made a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Ty could feel Kit's hands all over him, rubbing across his back and then finally settling on Ty's waist. Ty pulled back slightly, noticing that Kit was straining himself to reach Ty's height, pulling himself up on his tip toes.

Ty couldn't help but laugh. "You really are quite short aren't you?" He teased. Kit looked like he was about to cry so Ty kissed him again, attempting to pour all of the love he had for Kit into the kiss. He slowly moved his hands down Kit's body, then bent down slightly to lift him up. Kit wrapped his legs around Ty's waist and threw his arms around Ty's shoulders kissing him sensually. Ty clung to Kit even tighter, afraid of what would happen if they let each other go.

 He remembered way back when he and Kit had first been getting to know each other and Kit had told him that he was pretty sure Ty was autistic. He had given him a bunch of articles and official clinical descriptions and terms that made Ty feel distant and afraid. But then he had recommended Ty check out posts on social media sites made by autistic people and Ty had been completely swept into it. There was an entire tag on tumblr dedicated to autism, and Ty had spent hours scrolling through the posts feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible by a sense of community and belonging.

 He had come across this one blog dedicated purely to autistic love and lust and how it manifests differently. Ty remembered reading one quote in particular that had made him feel hot and shivery all over, and painfully aware of Kit's presence next to him. It had stayed with him all this time.

I want to ink myself underneath your skin.

Ty  gently put him down for a moment and leaned his forehead against Kit's. They were both breathing heavily.

"I missed you" Ty whispered. Kit smiled at him beautifully.

"I missed you too sweetheart."

Edit: This is old but I'm tagging @ti-bae-rius in this because I honestly just want your opinion lol.

#kit x ty #tda #twp #tsc #kaitlin'swriting

[your-highnessmarvel]

What’s This? NSFW

NOT REQUESTED but since yall loved my dom!chris fic so much. 

Summary: You are invited to a party at Chris’s penthouse and while partying, you find a particularly interesting accessory behind a mantle piece over the foyer...

Warnings: smut, dom!chris, rough!chris, sub!reader

*gif not mine

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MASTERLIST

The party had started rather smoothly. Drinks were being made and served in the kitchen. People were milling in and out, clustered in the living room and dining room, chatting, drinking. Some soft music (more like elevator music) was streaming from the sound system. 

No one was actually partying. 

Now you felt like an idiot. When you’d gotten invited by Chris, he’d made it sound like it would be a raging party with people hanging from the chandelier and a beer pong tournament. Maybe people making out in closets. Maybe someone doing body shots off of Tom’s belly button. Maybe Scarlet starting a dance off. 

But none of this boring, hanging out, sitting stuff. 

You stood by the kitchen, watching the living room with a bored expression. There was a cold drink in a red solo cup in your hand, pressed against your sternum. Chris was somewhere in the throng of people, but when you’d arrived, he’d been too busy greeting everyone to offer any company. 

You knew Chris from your friend, the stunt director. You’d all met one night at your friend’s party, and you felt like this invitation was more of a pity invite than anything else. But here you were, watching your friend mingling with the rest, while you stood there. 

But as the night wore off, and the boring people left, Mackie put on the sound system to the max and someone started playing throwbacks. The drink started to get to you, and you ended up dancing with Scarlet and Mackie and your friend, while Chris had finally started a beer pong match in the kitchen. 

You twirled around with your friend, laughing, enjoying the night. Making friends with A-list celebrities wasn’t all that bad. They were fun when they weren’t being followed by paparazzi and journalists. They were clever and cunning and oh - was that Mackie starting a dance battle with Scarlet? Yes. 

You laughed, leaning against the brick and stone fireplace because the laughter was beginning to make your stomach burn. When you turned to see if Chris was winning, you spotted something shiny behind the mantle piece on the fireplace. Your smile was replaced by a confused frown. Tilting your head, you reached behind and wrapped your fingers around something metal and cold. You pulled it out slowly. 

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”

Almost all action ceased entirely. Only the music still blared, and after one second, Mackie turned it off. 

“No fucking way, Chris,” Mackie said in disbelief. 

Chris, midway from throwing a winning shot, was staring at you with his mouth parted, blue eyes wide. His chest heaved once, twice, three times.

You held between your index and thumb a pair of glittering handcuffs. 

“Chris, buddy, I didn’t know you were like that,” Tom chuckled. 

Your eyes went from face to face, but you were blushing because Chris was into bondage? 

But then your moment of reflection over Chris Evans’s bedroom preferences was ruined when he came lunging after you. His run began as he threw away the ping pong ball, dashing across the kitchen. He jumped over the railing, landing smoothly on the living room floor. 

You yelled. Your instincts told you that if a six foot tall, (close to) two hundred pounds of muscle came barreling towards you with murder in his eyes, you run. 

You turned on your heels and dashed out of the living room, into the hallway. For a second, you hesitated between running around the living room and into the dining room, but everyone would be there to see you fall to Chris’s humiliation. So after a split second, you dashed down the hall, hearing Chris stumbling after you. 

You let out a squeak and burst through a door, turning without contemplating the room and trying to close it. 

A hand came onto the door, fingers inches from your eyes, and pushed. You tried to put up a fight, but like you said, almost two hundred pounds of muscle could not be competed with. 

You let that option go, and dashed across the room, but just a few steps in and you stopped. It was a bedroom. It was a queen size bed with blue sheets and white sweaters spread all over it kind of room. 

Fuck. This was Chris’s room. 

He was behind you, heaving. You could hear him there, silently watching you asses the fact that you’d ran right into a dead end. 

But what made you frown was the sound of the door closing and clicking shut. 

“Oooooh kay,” you said nervously, putting your hands up and twirling on your heels with a smirk. 

Chris stood there with a lifted brow. He wore a dark blue sweater and black trousers, hair pushed back behind his ears, and the way he stood there with his fists clenched, let you know just how mad he was that you found his handcuffs. 

You cocked your head. “Look, whatever you’ve got going on here with these - uh - things, it ain’t my fault I found them.”

His lips turned upwards. 

“Okay, look,” you tried again. “I found it because you left them there! And what the hell were they doing in your living room, Christopher? Like, leave them in here or something. Did you tie someone up against the fireplace? ‘Cause that’s wack. And if you’re going to use handcuffs to tie someone up, at least they should be in a bed.” You stopped. Oh, God, you were rambling. 

Nervousness tightened in your chest when you realized Chris was just staring with a smirk. 

“You sure know a lot about tying people up,” he said, eyeing the cuffs you were still holding. 

You opened your mouth, frowned, then thought twice, closing your lips. You backed up a step, but he followed. “I’ll give them back,” you said. “Just be responsible.”

He shook his head. 

“Or not, you know,” you said with a shrug. “You can be a child also.”

He shook his head. 

“Okay, well, I’ll just leave them here,” you deadpanned, dangling the cuffs over the edge of the bed. 

“No.”

You frowned, turning your eyes to him. His gaze was shimmering, and the way he was looking at you - as if he could see through you and into your soul - was making your knees begin to tremble. 

Oh boy. 

“To you?” you squeaked, and you couldn’t help licking your lips. 

He shook his head. 

“Well fucking get decided!”

He smiled wickedly. “Put it around your wrist.” His voice was commanding and dry, as if you weren’t friends, as if this wasn’t like, the third time you saw him. 

“W-what?”

“I said,” and he took a long step towards you, “put it around your wrist.”

He was close enough to look down at you. Close enough for you to see the freckles almost fading on his cheeks and the way his beard was a little ginger at the edges. Close enough to see the vagabond black dots in the blue of his eyes and the absolute pink color of his mouth. 

“I - I...”

But he stopped you, gripping the cuffs from your hand while simultaneously grasping your wrist in his large hand. 

“Hey!”

But the cuff wrapped coldly around your right wrist, and Chris held it up to your widening gaze as he tightened it by closing his hand, the metallic sound of it echoing in your ears. 

“Now, since you went snooping -”

“I didn’t.”

“Since you went snooping,” he reiterated in a more ordering tone, eyes searching yours, “you get to wear them.”

Your mouth opened, but before you could tell him off, his free hand gripped your jaw. The pressure of his fingers didn’t allow you to close your mouth, so you stood there, staring at him, looking like a fish out of water. 

He stared at your mouth, at your tongue, then dragged his eyes up to meet yours. “I’m tired of you speaking out of turn.” He was practically seething, but leaking from that clenched jaw and burning eyes was the smell of lust and desire. And it smelled so good. So good that just the change in his voice, the drastic change in his demeanor, made heat pool down your belly, like slime, dripping down your thighs and into your feet. 

Then he let go of your jaw and you closed it obediently. 

He looked lost in his work as he opened the free cuff and directed you towards the bed, your fingers trembling. He extended it, your arm straight as a rod, and swiftly, he cuffed you to the bedpost. 

“Oh my shit,” you mumbled. 

There was a small but sharp slap on your ass, and then Chris’s fingers were gripping your jaw again. Surprisingly, he was smiling when he said, “You speak when you’re told to, understood?”

You frowned. “Can I speak?”

He nodded. 

“I understand.”

He gave a grunt of approval and let you go. Your ass was still stinging from his slap, and you had a feeling he could do much worse. 

Then he took a step back, admiring you from top to bottom. He started by taking a strand of hair between his fingers. Then, looking at you for any signs of refusal, he let his index trail from your collarbone, over the bump of your breast, down to your belly button. 

He hadn’t even kissed you yet and he’d first, slapped your ass, and second, touched your boob. 

You watched him with a quivering lower lip, your eyes wide, drinking in the sight of him; composed and calculated with a keen gaze as he stepped around you. You tried to follow him with your eyes, but you were rooted to the ground as he circled you like predator to prey. 

“It’s funny,” he said, his voice roach, as his breath came upon the back of your neck. Soft hands, gentle and almost tentative, pressed against the swell of your hip. “Those handcuffs have been there since last year’s Halloween party that I hosted here. I went as a cop.”

You frowned, but his hands flitted from your hips down to your thighs, and the sensitive skin there tingled so fiercely that your knees almost buckled. 

“They must have gotten behind the mantle piece when I discarded them,” he continued, his lips grazing your ear. “It gets tiring to carry them around.” All you could do was stare ahead, the buzz on your skin flourishing anew when his fingers dragged along your waist, measuring you. 

“But...” The words weren’t leaving your mouth because now the tips of his fingers were inching below your shirt. 

You felt him shrug as he pressed his front to your back. “All this talk about tying people up, well,” he sighed. “I guess I just couldn’t get it out of my head. Having you all to myself. To my mercy.”

You couldn’t believe this. You’d trapped your own damn self into this by being the bigmouth that you were, and now, you felt like an idiot. 

But you also felt on fire as his skin made contact with yours; fingers on your navel. Then, as he circled back to face you, he let them drag around you, lighting your flesh on fire. 

When he came to face you, he was so close you could feel his breathing. His eyes were so dark, like the bottom of the ocean, and his lips pulled into a daring smirk. With a hand still under your shirt, he smoothed the other onto your cheek and leaned in swiftly, almost startling you. 

His lips were warm and plush, soft as he grazed them onto your mouth. At first, his kiss was tender and almost kind, as if he was giving you time to process it all. His smell invaded your senses, and you hummed as you leaned in, pressing your mouth flush against his. This first sign of enjoyment from your part, albeit very late, produced a groan from his mouth as he gripped your neck with such force that your lips parted into a gasp. He slipped his tongue passed your teeth and onto yours, stepping into you until you were pressed so close to him that you didn’t know where you started and he ended. 

He devoured you like you’d never been kissed before. Your lack of breathing from his fingers around your throat was causing your head to swim, buzzing, tingling with want that dripped down to your belly. 

Then he stepped away from you harshly, ripping away from your mouth as if you’d given him a shock. Your eyes burst open, afraid you’d done something wrong, but the somber, tantalizing look in his blue eyes made the heat spread alarmingly fast down your legs. 

“We don’t need these,” he said, voice rough, low, wanting, as he gripped the hem of your jeans and began undressing you. You let yourself get undressed, watching him hurriedly drag your jeans down your legs until he was pulling them off one foot at a time. 

Seeing your bare legs, he pressed his warm hands against your flesh, dragging, kissing his way up. You felt his beard tickling the soft skin of your thigh. A whimper left your lips and you pressed your free hand to your mouth, not wanting to alert everyone else about just exactly what was going on in here. 

Chris slowly got to his feet and pried your hand from your mouth. He shook his head while you watched with wide eyes. “If you want to be silent, I can gag you,” he stated, raising his eyebrows questioningly at you. 

You shook your head.

“That’s what I thought.”

Then he took your mouth into another breathtaking kiss, muffling the hum that left your throat. He gripped each side of your head with his huge hands, and in that moment, naked from the waist down, you felt so small. 

Keeping his mouth on yours, one of his hands slid down until he hooked his index into your pantie line. He pulled then dragged down, breaking from the kiss to rid you of your knickers.  

Upon seeing you bare before him, biting your lips, anxiously looking around, he gave a soft smile. But then his smile turned into a glare as his eyes met yours, and even if he was half kneeling before you, you were not the one in control.

“Say this is all mine,” he commanded, looking at you from under his brows. 

You opened your mouth, but your hesitation was not enough. Chris got to his feet in a flash and gripped your jaw, walking you backwards until the edge of the bed met the back of your thighs and you gave a small whimper.

“Say that this is all mine,” he gritted, watching you with vivid, sparkling eyes as you searched his face. 

You couldn’t deny the heat between your legs, the slickness you’d felt as he’d pushed you backwards. You liked this.

“It’s all yours.” Your voice was low and small, trembling as it left your quivering lips.

“Again,” he ordered.

You licked your lips as he let go of your jaw, moving you forward so he could step behind you.

“It’s all yours, Chris.”

He groaned, a sound low in his throat, as he sat down on the edge of the bed behind you. You felt his hands on your hips, and you shivered as he lowered you down onto him, his firm chest meeting your spine.

You were sat on his lap, and he took each of your knees in his hands and put them on either side of his own. Then he spread his legs, and you noticed with a fluttering heart, that he was in control of your body. He was controlling just how wide you spread, or not, and as he opened his knees, yours went right along. 

His right hand slithered up your chest, gripping one firm breast and then moving on until his fingers wrapped around your throat. On instinct, your head tilted back until you were leaning into him, head on his shoulder. You felt so vulnerable then; leaned back onto him, spread open like a meal on a table. 

When you felt his fingers skim up your thigh, your cuffed hand gave a tug and the cuff rattled. 

“All mine,” he groaned at the sound of your chain against the bed post. He skimmed higher, where the skin thinned, until he was pressing two long fingers against your throbbing clit. 

You gave a muffled yelp and Chris’s fingers tightened around your throat. You hadn’t noticed just how deprived you were. Just how ready and bursting at the seams. Just how riled up like a fucking rod you were.

The sound of Chris’s voice reverberated into your spine, droning in your ears. “You’re so fucking wet.” It was breathy and vulnerable, the first sign of humanity on him. “So fucking ready.”

His choice of words made you whimper, falling limp on him, to his mercy. The whole ordeal was so vulgar, but as he continued to press and circle your clit, you couldn’t care less about how you looked. You just wanted release. 

And your precipice was approaching fast. Faster than you’d thought. The knot coiled deep in your belly, and with Chris panting behind along with you, squeezing your throat and rubbing tight little circles on you, it wasn’t long until you were writhing against him. 

“Already, baby?” he breathed into your ear. When you didn’t answer, too lost in your pursuit, he tightened his hold on your throat. “Answer me.”

You tried, but if you concentrated on anything else but maintaining a lid, you’d burst. 

“Answer me, Y/N, or I’ll have you writhing like this all night.”

“Yes!” It came out as a gasp, or a moan, you weren’t sure. “I’m close!”

He gave a grunt of approval and his fingers pressed even more onto you, searching your climax, pushing you to the edge. You clenched around nothing, writhing against him, feeling tantalized and empty. Your free hand balled into a fist. 

“You want to be filled?” he asked, huskily. The moan that left you was more like a whine. “Ah, yes.” And when his long middle finger slipped into you easily, you shattered. 

With a strangled moan, you clenched around him, writhing, the force of your orgasm flowing through you like crashing waves. You could feel Chris groaning behind you, rubbing that spot inside of you, riding out your orgasm while the heel of his hand press against your clit.

Heavens. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s tight,” he whispered in your ear, fingers around your throat, still rubbing that spot inside you.

When you were but a sighing mess, legs jelly over his, he slipped his finger out of you and picked you up, bridal style. For a few moments, while he shuffled around and your cuffed arm dangled, you were cocooned in his embrace. 

Then your back met the plushness of his bed, your head reeling, still buzzing from your climax. Behind your closed lids, you felt him parting your knees. Your cuffed arm was rigid at your side, while the other hand struggled to drag up your thigh, searching for him. 

You opened your eyes to see Chris all but rip his shirt over his head, exposing a firm chest. Fine hairs sprinkled across his golden skin. Your eyes wandered lazily across his shoulders, down to the shadows across his collarbone and pecks. 

He looked at you, watching you admiring him, and a lazy smirk spread on his lips. Then he wrapped his hand around your wrist and guided your free hand to his crotch. Through his trousers, you could feel just how hard he was. You could feel the warmth of him seeping through the fabric. You could feel the length and impressive girth of him, and a small yelp got caught in your throat.

“You’ll take me,” he said in a low tone after hearing you. You gulped, and his smirk turned into a frown. “You will.”

You nodded, fingering the button to his trousers. He helped you unbuckle himself, and as he took himself out, you caught the first drop of precum on your thumb. 

He groaned lowly, his eyes watching you intently as you carefully wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave one tentative pump. 

“You look so small like this,” he breathed, one hand on your spread knee. You moaned at his choice of words, continuing your ministrations, carefully pumping him up and down. You wished you could drop to your knees and taste him, but by the way he’d reacted earlier to your “talking out of turn”, you didn’t want to try to control him now. 

His eyes kept going from yours to where you were pumping him, the fingers on your knee pressing more and more harshly into the skin. You turned your pumps into twisting motions, pressing your thumb under the engorged head to smear his precum all over it. 

Chris grunted, spreading your knee wide so he could slip his hand between and press his thumb to your aching clit. 

“Chris.” The name came out like a whisper, but it was enough to alight the fire in his eyes. 

His other hand shot from your knee to your throat. “Tell me,” he ordered, panting, bent over you completely. “Tell me you want me.”

You gasped out, “Yes.” But it wasn’t enough. The fingers on your neck squeezed. “I want you, Chris.”

“Good.”

The pressure on your clit left, his hand going around your wrist and pinning it to the bed. He hovered over you for an instant, his knees on the bed now for leverage.

“Look at you.” His voice was tantalizing, as if taunting you. You were breathless, begging, almost writhing beneath him for a second release. “You’re all mine. All mine and begging. Say it.” 

This time, you didn’t have to be told twice. “I’m all yours.” 

“Yes, you are.” He hooked his hand under your knee, bringing it to your chest. 

He slowly slid in, surprisingly. You had expected him to give you no reprieve, but he watched you intently as your eyes widened, the stretch of him consuming your body. But with your knee to your chest, it was easier, and the fact that he’d made you cum seconds before was aiding you as well. 

But he was a lot. A lot of man to take in, with his weight on top of you and his girth stretching you out like never before. Your free hand scratched at his shoulder, a whine stuck in your throat, but he wasn’t stopping. 

“You’re going to take me,” he ordered between clenched teeth, hand on your jaw, forcing you to look at him. It was a struggle, to take him, as he mercilessly pushed himself to the hilt. You pulsed around him, shuddering, desperate to adjust. You didn’t think you ever would. 

“Chris, I...” The words were breathy, and really, all you wanted was for him to give you a second.

He groaned at your voice, his head momentarily falling to connect your foreheads. “You’re mine,” he groaned. “And you’ll take me like I want.”

You quivered around him at his voice, his choice of words, the way he was bottomed out completely. You were full. Bursting. Seams coming apart slowly. A low moan left your lips as he receded his hips and thrust back in, languidly and harshly. 

“Like that,” he breathed, hand on your hip, the other migrating to your throat. “You’re so tight, huh?” His voice was almost condescending. “You can’t even take me. Look at you. Whining.” The end was almost a whisper as he thrust his hips against yours, sending you clutching onto him for dear life.

“Chris, it’s too big,” you whined, but it was a moan, because deep inside of you, the coil was knotting again. 

The chuckle that left his lips was condescending. “I don’t care.”

Then he thrust his hips against you harshly, setting a languid, deep rhythm that was making louder and louder moans escape your lips. He might be mercilessly big and hard to adjust to, but he was taking you there. 

“That’s it, baby,” he breathed encouragingly when he saw - and felt - how you were growing used to him. “Wet and tight. You love it.”

The hand around your throat squeezed and you whined a low, “Yes.” 

His rhythm became fiercer, thrusting harshly against you, and the coil in your belly began to shudder. Legs trembling, you latched onto him. He kept thrusting in you with force, the fabric of his trousers scratching the back of your thighs, moans mingling with his grunts. You were sure the hand on your hip would bruise, and the one around your throat would choke you to death. 

You clenched around him, the coil in your belly tight and ready to burst. Chris kept rolling his hips to hit the spot in you. “Come on, baby, I feel you,” he breathed, thrusting into you with ease now. Your mouth opened into a small “O” and Chris’s thumb found home against your tongue. “That’s it, that’s it.” 

The coil burst and you moaned loudly against his thumb, clenching hard around his cock. It was such a strange but amazing feeling; the mixture of pain and pleasure, and your orgasm hit you with such vivacity that stars danced behind your lids. 

“Fuck, that’s tight.”

His thrusts kept meeting your hips as he railed into you, thumb pressing against your tongue to keep your mouth slightly open. Then his thumb slipped out of your lips, carrying your spit down your chin. Almost sloppily, like he was losing his grip, he fumbled with your shirt to lift it over your belly. 

“You’re so tight, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, each thrust sending your body jolting on the bed.  

You whined, the feeling of him inside of you still driving the aftermath of your orgasm across your skin. 

He gave a few sloppy thrusts, holding you down onto the mattress, before he pulled out and spurt hot ropes of cum all over your exposed belly. He fisted himself, emptying on your flesh, groaning with each new wave. 

Then he kissed you gently, taking you by surprise by how soft it was. How gentle. When he stopped, his fingers skimmed down your legs, to your cuffed hand, and broke you free. Then he kissed the raw and abused flesh of your wrist. Kissed your bent knees. Your thighs. Then he buckled himself back up, his chest glistening with sweat.

He was panting when he ran into the bathroom and came back with a hot towel to clean you up. He was smiling and searching your gaze when you winced as the hot towel brushed over your core. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Those words, after such a different side of him being exposed, made you blush deep crimson. 

“Who knew you were this dirty, Chris,” you panted, still laying on the bed. He chuckled and helped you into your panties. 

“I just...” he trailed off, picking up your jeans. “When I see you, I get different.”

“Huh?” You were too weak to stand, so you let Chris dress you up. 

“Ever since I met you, all I’ve wanted was to have you all to myself.” He gave you a wink when you lifted your hips off the bed, your jeans sliding back into place. “And well, you provided the opportunity today.”

You shook your head, but you were smiling as you sat up. Your knees were jelly and you were sure that if you tried to stand, you’d need a minute to find your bearings. 

“You’re lucky I’ve wanted this for a while too,” you admitted. 

He gave you a lazy, sleepy smirk as he held his hand out. “We’ve kept them waiting for a while,” he said. “We should go back. It’s my party afterall.”

You blushed a deep red and took his hand.

#chris evans #smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x yn #chris evans fanfiction #fic #fanfic #oneshot #imagine #dom!chris evans #sub!reader

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Cyprus brings shampoo to Rotterdam 2021

I FELL IN LOVE, I FELL IN LOVE, I GAVE MY HEART TO PRODUCT PLACEMENT.

Though I do see where they come from. Everyone from Panik Records, from her to Eleni Foureira featuring Perfectil on the “Fuego” MV, gonna need that sweet sweet money all of the time. But has Greece’s economy not really recovered for them to constantly need to advertise products on music videos or am I just losing my mind overthinking things?

Eitherway, this review may or may not appear before or during their rehearsal day, so see how do I make a fool of myself by trying to estimate Cyprus’s chances!

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

This year we have a 26 year old Elena Tsagrinou from Greece here (the way they were last represented by a somewhat Cypriot on 2017?). She did music early on in her age, also participated in the Greek version of Got Talent. Though, before breaking out as a solo pop sensation in ways you cannot imagine, she used to be in a pop band OtherView. Strangely enough, I’ve heard of them because of this song below but I could’ve NEVER estimated it was her and never could have I predicted she would land herself a Eurovision entrance all alone:

The band has had quite a few successful enough singles with her, she did some music shows participation and hosting, her band switched labels midway through (guess into which one they eventually landed, hint: some of the screenshots in this review have this peculiar logo), and in 2018, she had to “withdraw” from the group to go ahead and pursue the aforementioned solo career, somewhat. She continued doing a lot of shows (particularly seen on the MAD music channel related events), and doesn’t have as many singles as she had with OtherView right now, but she’s possibly well on her way to blossom as an artiste. Some of those reading (lol who am I kidding who even reads these) may be familiar with this little song of hers:

You’ve heard way too many things about “El Diablo”, her 2021 entry, so idk if I feel like explaining the technical side of things all by myself or you already know everything. But in these reviews I repeat everyone else regardless, so let me just say that “El Diablo” is an obvious pop song, with a lot of Swedish related touches to it, because at least one person on this song also worked on Alvaro Estrella’s Melodifestivalen 2021 entry that glorifies at least a handful of the same cliches that “El Diablo” does lyrically. Dear Eurovision lyricists, you can use more foreign languages than Spanish for your obligatory foreign language incorporations, thanks~

Although I’m not sure about whether it is more Laurell Barker’s fault as much as it is Joker Thörnfeldt’s, but it’s easier to blame them equally, because the former probably came up with “ta-taco, tamale” and the latter couldn’t get enough of the word “mamacita” they used for the aforementioned Melodifestivalen entry. Anyway, the lyrics, from what I get, is that she’s in love with an eeeevil guy because he’s sweet talking her, they do some sexy stuff together (presumably), pour sauce on their bodies for no explicit reason other than “obligatory-foreign-reference-itis”, she’s breaking the rules (and idk if it was “mama-mamacita” telling her to do it), got the icy edges that the spicy is melting for her, throws eyelashes on the floor when she’s got no wigs to throw (but that doesn’t matter because even without a wig, she can flip her hair and make him look twice), and there’s as much as you need to know about the song’s lyrics as I feel like I should show to you, because eh. Eurovision has suffered from worse cookie-cutter lyricism through the years, “El Diablo” is painful but not the worst.

REVIEW

But I do like the song somewhat!

“El Diablo” was initially compared to Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” upon release, and I totally kind of see why, because in all the right spots you can absolutely hum over the chorus to that over the one of “El Diablo”’s, it just exchanges gratuitous French translation of one of the already sung lines on the bridge for obligatory inserted Spanish terms just for the sake of being trendy with the crowds of the nowadays, because as we learned nothing these days, having a lot of Spanish in your song is apparently trendy. And Elena does nothing absolutely batshit insane on the music video (other than advertising) - no lapdance for the devil Lil Nas X style, no being forced into a bath, no person to sell her body to (not even the titular diablo), no dancers that rise out of their Christian sleep pods. Just Elena singing behind lots and lots of trash bin bag wrap.

Honestly the bigger issue for me than the song being “sAtAnIc because it is called “the DEVIL!!!”, aside from the lyrics, is that the MV does not come with any forewarning whatsoever for the people that are seizure prone when they see strobe lights? And that happens for some extended periods of this clip? I know you are indulged in your advertising and good for you but don’t just care for the companies that pay you if you use their products, do care about people’s wellbeings too, sometime.

But enough about the MV.

The song is decently sounding. It has interesting uses of what sounds like hi-hats during the verses (e.g.: a moment when this happens for the first time on the song is after Elena sings “tonight we’re gonna burn in a par-tY” the second time, and then there’s something that sounds soaring - that’s what I think that the hi-hats did.). It also has some sort of a synth piano on the second verse to boost the song’s sound rather than just relying on 808s and beats. I quite like how the chorus is so instant somehow, idk why but it is for me. Might have a gripe with that childish choir singing “I LOVE EL DIAB-LO” in the tune of standard kindergarten children teasing tune (aka ”NA NA NA BOO BOO”), as well as the constant breathing sounds, but they don’t distract me from generally “fucking” with this song, lol. It’s just that likeable imo.

I just can’t cope with the fact that Cyprus can’t seem to dare to go at least a little bit original with their song, yanno? Ever since 2019 they were called out as being a ripoff of something... hell, everyone since 2016 except Eleni was a ripoff of something. Alter Ego? “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers. Gravity? “Human” by Rag’n’Bone Man. Replay? “Fuego” itself. Running? “Lose Control”, Meduza x Becky Hill. Now we have a Lady Gaga song wannabe that even caught the attention of another singer that the music video looked like it was ripping off, and the Eurofandom caught up in hysterics:

Heads up, folks: not EVERY short haired blonde with messy hair, silvery tank top and shortpants that writhes on the floor is a Zara Larsson clone. And I don’t know who stirred controversy first - her or the fans - but this was ridiculous to see, even for me.

Although for a second I saw where they were coming from.

Now see why I want Cyprus to go original for at least once? Because I guess that the way “Fuego” was conjured up, it brought Cyprus so much success with how the package was, how Eleni sold it, and how the song sounded. You know the first thing of everything potentially going wrong for you later on is if you find the formula you’ve been looking for, but you proceed to be using the exact same formula that got you this far in the first place, without realizing what was it in the formula that you needed to bank on to further to make it click, but instead proceed to copy everything like it was an easy, fill-in-the-blank form. You can and should do better than that.

Though that doesn’t stop me from ranking it 11th this year.

Thing is, I really expected it to be the one female pop song of the year I would have the constant impulsive need to replay, replay, yeah. Ever since the chaotic entry MV drop that occured on some random-ass Cypriot TV show where three guys talked a lot (and before that, we got a cooking show), and kept growing increasingly agitated that no one is liking their show, until at some point one of them erupted in “IN TWU MEENETS... EL DIABLO... ON UR TEEVEE”; I was really devastated I couldn’t be able to break the replay button because of Panik Records deciding to rather benefit for themselves to have the MV on their app, then on Youtube, THEN on Spotify in that order. So I listened to a few video rips that I received / had for myself, and it was a fun time... until I realized the desire to play it declined much faster than I thought it would when it actually dropped on Spotify, oops. So I can’t really let myself rank it higher, when there are at least some catchier female bangers with better overall sound, better lyrics, and better multiple-replay factor. But I can’t really settle for a much lower rank for her than 11th, anyway. Girlbanger 2021 power y’all!

That and vocally she’s actually not that bad, even if she has shown up singing her song drunk in a handful of Instastories for some event of some party house, and at the time people overreacted, but I think that at least a large audience of those same people has collectively dropped their “Cyprus obvious NQ” talks come the pre-parties.

Panik Records, when will you put the yeehaw El Diablo on streaming? Now THAT’S a version that has replay value, and I might never get bored of it instead :(

Approval factor: Yeah, there exists some for me in it Follow-up factor: CyBC did one of the nastiest in terms of following up their 2020 arc of “Bring Your Artist Back for Revenge Year” that was 2021, straight up ditching Sandro probably right after Eurovision was done (well it doesn’t look like the case because CyBC published a statement later, but I sense that it might’ve been the case), because “Running” wasn’t doing so well with the “YAS QUEEN” branch of the Eurofandom. Which sucks because Sandro would’ve actually been down to be asked again for Eurovision, as he revealed it to NikkieTutorials during many of her interviews with last year’s class of. “Agreement from both parties” my ass, unless Sandro secretly realized that like Tom Leeb, he was too busy for 2021 Eurovision, which I doubt. It actually sucks imo that Sandro can probably be considered as even a forever non-returnee, because Sandro is more of German roots than Greek, and if we learned anything about the Mukuchyangate 2021, is that Germany will never send a returning artist, at least one that didn’t represent their country first and foremost. So Greece could only ask Sandro nicely only if the contest comes on to Germany, I guess? How do you think they decided on getting Stefania, who still ever so regularly appears on Dutch music, to represent them this year? So on that regard the follow-up from CyBC stinks, eventhough I think that entrywise the follow-up was rather decent, at least in the usual Cypriot way of sending female pop (going from “Replay” to “El Diablo” which I like more than “replay”), and eventhough I’m falling out of the hype for Cyprus I once used to have, their 2015-2021 entry streak had entries that I largely feel positive for overall, so in that regard, the follow up is decent. Qualification factor: In a year of Semi 1 Female Banger Slaughterhouse, Elena goes out in my eyes with several scratches, but not enough to completely kill her chances. If anything, given the divisiveness of Ireland’s rehearsals, Elena is likely to obliterate any last memory of Lesley Roy any first time viewer has ever had, except for her stage graphics. Even if Elena’s staging will not be as mindblowingly cartooney as the last, once a bop comes on, everyone forgets the slower song and gives into the bop, at least that’s how the draws work when choosing what insignificant song to put on 2nd and wedge in between the opening banger and some lesser-key banger, right? I know that “Replay” barely qualified, but I find ���El Diablo” slightly better, and it all goes well, it will barely just as qualify as well. Because in a Semi 1 Female Banger Slaughterhouse, she can’t be the losing one, really.

INTERNAL CORNER

I already told everything that was noteworthy about Elena’s journey in previous sections, honestly.

• That I said that CyBC likely ditched Sandro right after cancellation just like Hooverphonic ditched “Release Me” should they have had a chance to keep or toss their entry. It doesn’t present itself as the case, but I just feel like it is.

• That the song was revealed on a Cypriot talkshow where three dudes were aware that we were waiting for “El Diablo”, trying to throw some gratuitous English our way, hating that we didn’t like our show, but promising that “El Diablo” MV will be shown in “TWU MEENETS”, which wasn’t but worth the wait eh?

• That people were cackling at Zara Larsson joining in the talks of Elena’s MV having aspects of her own song’s MV plagiarized.

• That Elena performed her song in a private-ish event when drunk and having heaps of fun and people cried that it was gonna be a NQ.

And do I really need to elaborate about the local Cypriot church scandal? It just so happened that a bunch of people read into a song’s title so much, thought it was rude of their country to sing about the devil (eventhough the bigger offenses made here is the gratuitous Spanish more than anything), and hoped that the broadcaster will disqualify the very song they okayed to be internally chosen because they are displeased with it - and if it’s not disqualified, they even threatened to burn the headquarters down. No, really. That’s like the most amusing part of that whole spectacle. Imagine burning a broadcaster headquarters down for a song... if I did it for every favourite of mine that lost to other broadcasters, the broadcasters would run out of locations to rent, because everything else good is pre-occupied or the ashes of their lost headquarters staring back at them.

Imagine being toxicly Christian in 2021... How long until Elena’s face gets photoshopped on the main protagoniste of The Unholy?

ANY LAST WORDS?

Even if I’m with this song, part of me kind of wants me to fail to make Cyprus realize that their formula is starting to wear thin and they got to be somewhat of a versatile nation in Eurovision if they want to be on the radar of not just one specific niche. But then again, they learned nothing when they flopped with Tamta, because she sneakily qualified as opposed to failing even harder than Tulia, ah well. Will they ever learn?

But why would I openly wish this to a top 11 song of mine, oh dear. Good luck Elena, may God be on your side, I guess. :P

#eurovision #eurovision 2021 #rotterdam 2021 reviews #cyprus #elena tsagrinou #el diablo

[imaginationxlost]

SO I was just inadvertently reminded that I need to talk about the setting of Sparks (and many other stories).

Very minor spoilers for uh... all of these ahead.

That out of the way, let’s begin!

I usually call the setting “Shadowed Dreams” as a combination of the two halves of it, Shadowed Souls and Dreams (which are themselves multiple stories coming together).

So the setting of Shadowed Dreams exists in five planes.  (Also the separation of Shadowed Souls and Dreams is primarily whether the plot stuff is more related to up from Earth (Dreams) or down from Earth (Shadowed Souls))

Each plane has it’s own color of magic (mostly called Quintessence, or tessence on Earth; which is the term I will use from here on, even though other planes have different names) and each kind acts slightly differently.

They can also react with one another.

Purple and Black tend to mutually destroy one another, and they act really similarly and will supplant one another whenever possible. Black tends to be better at creating permanent effects versus purple and black is better at affecting the souls of living things. Purple on the other hand is better at quick changes, natural phenomena and mind affecting abilities. Both are very good at magical binding, whether it’s tying two souls together, or locking someone into a magical contract. It can be very tricky.

They also move similarly, but not quite identically. Both kinds of tessence travel through the air like a mist. Black acts like it’s a little ‘heavier’, but it’s slight. The similarity is why they tend to supplant each other when they end up in the same environment.

Yellow and Green tessence also react with one another as well, but rather than destroying and supplanting one another, they tend to repel each other. If forced together they’ll mutually destroy, but one has to force that. 

Both Yellow and Green are particularly good at conjuration; creating something out of nothing. Yellow is also extremely good at illusions, and any and all magic related to the mind. Green is... VERY good at conjuration. Also at like... edict magic. Magical commands that one has to/is compelled to follow. And divinations. It’s very good at divinations. It’s also good at messing with souls, though not as good as black.

Yellow and Green tessense both spread through the air too, but green tessense tends to sink close to the ground and creep along like a heavy smoke, and yellow spreads out fast and always ends up scattered and thin if it’s not actively controlled or replenished.

Worth noting about all of these specialties is that they aren't hard rules. They’re just what’s easiest to do with each color by default. Technically there’s nothing that one color can do that the others can’t.

Movement between planes is possible, but not without rules. Without considerable magical power, it’s basically impossible to go more than one plane away from your native plane. That’s what the arrows on the image mean; it’s showing the possible travel.

Also worth noting is that tessense as a whole travels up between planes where it can. It usually can’t because there’s just too much of the native tessence for it to matter but it will be relevant.

“You skipped Orange-”

Orange is fucked. I’ll GET TO IT. Just know it hates all other kinds of tessense right this second. If you’ve read Sparks (and you’re not a specific friend I’ve talked about this stuff to) you’re probably a little confused because, uh, isn’t Earth Purple?

I’ll get to it.

Oh and a couple of quick side notes

     ~ All sapient denizens are humanoid to some degree. The weirdest is gets is the more powerful Angels and Demons. Angels will have more wings the more powerful they are, and demons will have like weirder legs or arms or whatnot. But still a bipedal creature with one head two arms, two forward facing eyes, etc. Also the fey have some variation (especially in size) but are never too far from the humanoid body plan.

    ~ Every plane has at least one ‘monarch’ sorta. It’s magical thing. They don’t have to have any political power (though they usually do; Earth excluded). The Monarch(s) are powerful individuals magically connected to the plane itself, and without the Monarch(s) the fabric of reality is less stable. This is a relevant fact. OKAY.

So let’s talk about these planes, from the top down.

The top plane is native to the Angels. It’s ruled by the King of Angels, and at any given time there are nine archangels in existence, though not all of them are in their home plane, since one of them has been banished down to Earth by the King. The King is the Monarch, though any of the Archangels could take that position if it was ever opened. He’s very paranoid about that possibility and rules the whole plane (or well, his planet in the plane; they all have Outer Space) with an iron fist to keep tight control and maintain his position. 

He’s also in a long term war with the Demons, but it’s mostly In Name Only because it’s very rare that they can actually access each other. Hatred of demons is a very real thing in Angel culture though, especially after an archangel was killed by a demon on Earth (the fact that said Archangel was banished there by the King is conveniently left of of the narrative).

Next down is the Dreamers. Dreamland as as place is fueled and influenced by the thoughts and imaginations of the people on Earth. Yellow Quintessence is created by the dreams and ideas of Earthlings, rising up like magic and forming into the tessence on Dreamlands plane.

All of that is why the culture and magic in Dreamland is influenced by Earth’s. 

There are five courts in Dreamland, each one having it’s own Monarch. Thematically, they’re each one of the french suits, as through Dreamlands history their courts have always built off of Earthly games, and as time went on the powers shifted and it slowly went from one monarch to five.

Five though, you might be asking? There are only four french suits; hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades. And you’re right! 

But before the french suits there were the minor arcana. And the major arcana. But as the french suits took over as the actual game cards, things shifted in Dreamland, and the Major Arcana court eventually became the star court, as a fifth suit.

But... saying Dreamland has five courts isn’t entirely accurate. It’s supposed to have five. That hasn’t been the case in a long time. The Diamond court ended up absorbed into the Heart Court, making the Heart Court the defacto court in control of all of Dreamland, and making the whole plane less stable and that’s a dangerous state to be in. It’s a good thing the Angels aren’t trying to take advantage of that /foreshadowing

Hoo boy. Earth. Okay. So Earth’s color is orange. A fact that I’m SURE confused any readers of Sparks.

Orange quintessence doesn’t spread. It doesn’t spread like, at all. It clumps together leaving it wide open for the tessence from below to flow up and spread on Earth, to the point of dominating and becoming the life energy everything on Earth, when on every other plane it’s their own native color in that role.

There aren’t very many magic users who use orange, and those who do... don’t consider themselves magic users.

See, orange Quintessence is more commonly called anti-magic. As used by hunters. You see it now, Sparks readers, Eh?

ACTUAL SPOILERS AHEAD THOUGH. Skip to Fey if you don’t want spoilers about a major villain + some other stuff

WARNING. WARNING.

So what about Earth’s Monarch? And for the readers of Sparks- what the hell is the Master? What are Mages? While those later questions are more related to the Fey, I’m going to answer them here.

The Master is the reincarnating soul of a deceased Monarch from the Fey world. When a monarch is killed by someone else who could magically hold that position it shunts the soul to a different plane. And it only reincarnates in the mages and into specific families a lot because... mages are descendants of Fey, and the stronger a family’s fey blood is, the more likely it is that the fey monarch would be born into, because magically it’s drawn to Like.

So... Earth’s Monarch. 

Earth’s Monarch is Kevin Anderson. The only people who use orange magic are the organization of Witch Hunters, who actively hunt down and kill magic users, because orange destroys all other kinds of tessense, and isn’t mutually destroyed to the same extent as the other reactive colors. 

Kevin Anderson is a name that has meaning to anyone who’s read Sparks though.

See, Monarch on Earth just reincarnates (common for monarch souls) whenever they die, and the Hunter Organization actively hunts the kid down every time, and due to how reincarnation works (with past lives acting as a base for a new personality to be altered and changed by a new lifetime) it’s slowly made them hateful and cruel across many lifetimes

Which lands on Kevin Anderson by the time the story starts. At first the characters only know him as a very powerful Hunter, but it’s a lot more than that. He’s extremely dangerous.

So about those Fey Monarchs. There’s three fey Monarchs. There’s supposed to be four, one for each Season.

The Winter Queen is dead though, killed by her own child (who was a literal CHILD and got banished to Earth for their ‘crimes’), and no one took that throne. The Autumn Queen grabbed up a lot of the Winter Courts people and power, but not all of it, so the power imbalance isn’t quite as extreme as in Dreamland.

It’s still not GOOD though. Especially given what goes on below them though.

Oh also all of the Queens are kinda terrible people.

Below them though? Well there’s the Demon King, and nine archdemons, mirroring the Angels in that. Frankly the King of Demons and the Angel King have more in common than they have different. They’re both old fools who are clinging to their throne at all costs and stoke hatred towards the other to maintain control.

But the King of Demons is doing more than the Angel King. He’s actively seeking to advance that war, damn all the people between them.

And what do you know, the plane between him and Earth is weakened for having a monarch missing, so his war starts against the Fey, but his plans go much further than that.

#worldbuilding #sequel: shadowed dreams #this was fun to actually write up #writeblr #writing #My writing

[porterporker]

headcanon dump number one: tom holland

**this is NOT my gif

a/n: ight motherfuckers welcome to the series premiere of i’m horny so you should be too

i’m kinda new to this whole thing so like...be nice, yeah? even though i just called you motherfuckers? 

warnings: mature audiences (sexual themes); pretty much just a collection of horny tom holland things

so i don’t really know how to start this off but like

→ tom holland? he’s loud. i don’t know how to break it to you bro. like, when necessary, he’s better at being quiet than you are, but he’s nonetheless still a very responsive lover. you’ll know when something is working, that’s for damn sure. he isn’t shy about telling you how beautiful you look, how good you are to him, that sort of thing. it makes things a lot more enjoyable in general when you both are communicating (or at least trying to, if ya catch the drift). 

→ because of this, he’s not the greatest at quickies/semi-public relations, despite your schedules mostly demanding it. like, he’s good at it, don’t get me wrong, but he hates having to rush intimacy. his style is more playful, relaxed -- he prefers to call taking his time, but you just call it teasing. 

→ he definitely has some level of a praise kink. he loves being encouraged and knowing he’s making you feel good. he also loves knowing that he is the reason you’re making those noises. he can start to get kind of cocky about it, but he’s just as quick to turn to begging in the moment (even though he’ll absolutely deny it later).

→ he’s very private about his personal life, especially in regards to you, but sometimes he can’t help himself. whoever has the misfortune of having to room next to you two during family vacations or when he’s shooting something and you come to visit almost always has something to say the next day (see bullet #1). and tom can never help himself, especially with harrison. he’ll look around for a second to see if anyone’s watching, and then go “mate,” and pull him aside, showing his friend the array of marks you left on him just underneath his t-shirt. tom will go “i really love her, bro,” as harrison just rolls his eyes and fake gags. “do you have to show me every time, man?” - harrison, every time

→ dirty talk!!! it’s a hit or a miss honestly. he’ll do the standard “all this for me?” or “my, my, my, darlin’, who got you this wet?”. he loves telling you how good you are, “babe, you feel so good around me,” and how good you look, “you’re heavenly right now, angel, your lips are so red and you’re taking my cock like such a pretty girl.” but he’s also silly and giggly sometimes, singing for you or doing accents, especially his damn queens accent. it honestly just depends on the day. 

→ i feel like tom’s role in bed can vary a lot. sometimes he’s more dominant, holding your wrists above your head and whispering filthy utterances into your ear while he fucks into you. the two of you will even start to experiment with blindfolds and tying you up, and he loves it. he loves teasing you and seeing you squirm, hearing you whimper and beg. but that’s not to say he doesn’t have his own fair share of days where he sees you take control. sometimes just what he needs is to have you take the reigns after a hard day. to be partly restricted (in the case of light bondage), and have his pleasure in your hands, is exciting to him. it’s not something you do all the time, but it’s more of a treat every once in a while. 

#this is all i can take for right now i have to go take a cold shower #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland reader insert #tom holland headcanon #tom holland smut

[hello-nichya-here]

How to Leash Your Girls: A Fire Foursome Drabble

Here are some more Fire Foursome headcanons if you like. And if you think they are good enough can you please leave a comment under my AO3 page while also putting them on your AOE Fire Foursome page? Thanks!

KEY POINT: The headcanons in this assume an Azula who has gotten the help she has needed, make amends with everyone, and rekindled her friendship with her old friends and Zuko before Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee initiated Azula into their "arrangement."

Q: What if Zuko decided to keep the other members of The Foursome on leash in public while goes about his duty for a day? And what kind of bribes would the girls require before being leashed, if they require any at all?

General Note: This scenario takes place well before any kids are even born for Zuko would never do this if they had any kids together. This is because he would never embarrass the mother(s) of his kid(s) like that or his kid(s) period. And if Zuko was stupid/evil enough to ask, the girls would harshly reject Zuko before Ty Lee chi blocked him, with Mai then pinning him to a wall, and then the two girls having Azula shoot Zuko with (weak) lighting before forcing him to sleep alone in a guest bedroom for at least a month and banned from touching them at all for at least that long as well.

Initially: All three of the girls vehemently reject Zuko’s request. On Ty Lee’s end, she doesn’t like the idea of ever being tied down and being put on a leash is literally being tied down. On Mai’s end, a leash is a literal manifestation of how she felt for most of her childhood due to her parents’ and Azula’s controlling nature. And while she has forgiven her parents and Azula, she never wants to be “leashed” again. On Azula’s end, she admonishes Zuko for even thinking of the idea since it reminds her of the times she got straightjacketed for long periods of time while in the asylum and thus is liable to trigger one of her episodes. Not that Azula blames Zuko for that now since she realized long ago that Zuko had a nation to rebuild and he had shown her mercy when everyone other than the peacenik Avatar had called for her head and/or bending even if their nation’s medieval understanding of mental health at the time only hurt her. But she is still upset by the suggestion since he of all people should know what restraints like that do to her psyche.

Bribe (Ty Lee): When Zuko presses her about wearing the leash, Ty Lee eventually agrees but she has some take it or leave it requests which Zuko happily agrees to even though it will decrease what little free time he has. The first one is that Zuko has to spend more time with her mediating. For Mai really doesn’t see the point of mediation and Azula is very lacking spiritually while Zuko is really the only other person in The Foursome with an interest in spirituality. And to make things worse, while Mai does trust Ty Lee’s aura sense and Azula in time has learned to do the same, only Zuko wholeheartedly trusts in Ty Lee’s spirituality. And Ty Lee’s second request is that she gets to have more one-on-one dates with Zuko. Not that she is trying to usurp Mai’s position as Zuko main girl, or that she is upset that Zuko gives priority access to Mai, but Ty Lee really likes Zuko and one of the joys in her life is getting to know post-redemption Zuko, whose behavior has mostly reverted in time to the kind and sweet person she knew before Ozai’s abuse almost broke him.

Bribe (Mai): When Zuko comes back to her and begs her to be leashed, Mai initially acts like she still isn’t going to listen to Zuko request until Zuko starts to beg her. Realizing that she has Zuko right where she wants him and will be able to get him to agree to something that normally he wouldn’t. So she makes his demand: she wants the ability to peg Zuko whenever she desires when they have a love making session instead of the once a week agreement they currently have. For Mai loves using her strap-on to dominate her lovers: she loves fucking Ty Lee doggy style while grabbing Ty Lee’s braid; she loves pulling Azula’s legs up and edging Azula until Azula begs her queen (Mai makes sure that Azula refers to her as her queen whenever they are in the bedroom) to let her cum; and she especially loves doggy fucking Zuko. For Zuko is the most high strung man she knows, not that she doesn’t love that about him, and loves slowly pounding his ass until he is a whimpering mess and then, after cumming herself, slowly jerking him off while still inside of him until he loudly moans and cums. But unfortunately, anal takes a lot more out of Zuko than the girls and so they came to an agreement that she can only peg him once a week. That and the fact that world leaders once mocked Zuko for coming to an international meeting one day walking like he had been fucked in the ass (spoiler alert: Mai had destroyed his ass the previous night). But if Zuko was going to put her on a leash in public she no longer cared about the sanctity of Zuko’s asshole or his public image. And even if Zuko shudders at what will happen, both in anticipation of the pleasure, pain, and public shaming he will soon face, he happily agrees.

Bribe (Azula): 

Zuko then goes to Azula’s office after arranging for a private meeting, but Azula is already aware well in advance of what Zuko was going to ask (even after all these years and Azula’s constant advice, Zuko was still an open book) and already her demands prepared, confident that Zuko will agree to them. And what are Azula’s demands? They are to be Zuko’s little spoon for the majority of the week and that she gets to tease Ursa directly about their arrangement. Zuko immediately tried pushing back against her first request, pointing out that Mai had always been his little spoon from the moment they had first started dating, and that it was not under either of their control to change that. For Mai made it very clear to everyone in The Foursome that she was to always be Zuko’s little spoon and if anyone challenged that they were getting cut. 

But Azula then revealed that she had come to an agreement with Mai regarding that topic. And what was that agreement? That Mai, whenever she desired, got to take one of them from behind while the other laid underneath the one being taken and fucked them in the other available hole while kissing each other. And then once they came, the siblings would switch positions and continue once again. For Mai loves seeing the siblings go at it and once Azula suggested her “accommodation”, Mai blushed at the thought of being able to directly partake in the hot and taboo action while also getting pleasured by Ty Lee (who also agreed to Azula’s new sexual arrangement) and agreed to the new little spoon arrangement (Mai would become Ty Lee’s little spoon instead of Azula for the nights Mai and Azula switched places). Zuko then asked how Ty Lee could also pleasure Mai at the same time with Azula quickly responding that Ty Lee would also be using her strap-on and anally fuck Mai while Mai was fucking one of them, with Azula quickly making a drawing to illustrate the positioning with stick figures, with Ty Lee taking Mai from behind before burning it. 

Zuko agreed that the sex positions would be highly pleasurable and he did like comforting Azula, who thanks to her therapy, now knew how to properly show affection and appreciation towards her loved ones even if she struggled to do so. But how were they going to exactly tease their mother? While they were finally going to go public with their relationship (Ch.2 for details), Zuko didn’t want to push the issue. But that is exactly what Azula wanted to do because she wanted to show mother she had finally become the “good little sister” mother had always wanted her to be. Zuko scoffed at the idea for they were more than brother and sister at this point, but he agreed for he finally got all his girls to agree to his desire without having to give up that much in return. Agni! If anything his life was going to only get better. And besides, how would Azula teasing their mother about their relationship be any worse than him putting her on a lease with his other lovers?

Results: 

The day Zuko introduced his leached girls to the public was one to remember. For when Mai (she is Zuko’s head advisor alongside Azula), Azula, and Ty Lee (Zuko got her off work for the day) entered court with Zuko, people gawked for a minute straight before Mai told them to go on with today’s agenda lest she dismissed them all and their claims would end up on the waiting list which was a least six months long the last time Mai checked. The rest of day until lunch was spend working but everyone was shocked that: Zuko had a harem; that his full blooded sister was part of said harem despite their contentious past; and that the girls, who had a reputation of being strong willed and independent, would allow Zuko to leash them. 

And when lunch time came, they went to eat with Ursa, Kiyi, Noren, Tom Tom, Michi, and Iroh where all hell broke loose. This was because Azula took the liberty to tease her mother, telling Ursa that she, Ty Lee, and Mai had found their purpose in life: being Zuko’s bitches and that she was trying to be the little sister Ursa had always wanted her to be by being Zuko’s attack dog before aggressively barking to show her enthusiasm. Zuko tried yanking on Azula’s leash to stop her but the damage was done, for Ursa fainted at the realization that her suspicions were true and that they were in an incestous relationship alongside their old friends. Noren, after staring at the spectacle, carried Ursa to the palace healer while Kiyi and Tom Tom started laughing at the absurd situation they found themselves in before mocking everyone else for missing the obvious. For how could everyone see how love dubby The Foursome were in public, despite the attempts to keep their relationship a secret, and not see where they were all in a relationship? They also found it funny to see Azula and Mai, who usually don’t take shit from anyone and are very prideful, engage in such a humiliating and public act of submission. Azula and Mai wanted to put their siblings in their place but realized they didn’t have a foot to stand on. That and because they couldn’t reach them due to their leashes not being long enough. Michi was disgusted by the degeneracy in front of her but she reminded herself that Mai is Fire Lady, and thus mother to the future heir. So she is able to put aside her true feelings and smile. Iroh was both weirded out and proud. Weird out in the sense that he couldn’t understand why Zuko had an incestous relationship...let alone one with Azula of all people. And why did he leash his women? Did he not understand what he was doing to his reputation or the reputation of the Fire Nation? But on the other hand, Iroh was proud that Zuko had a loving harem where he was so in charge that he could put some of the most powerful and prideful women in leashes. Iroh also had an intrusive thought where he wondered if he could have “redeemed” Ozai, if Ozai was Oza instead but he quickly dismissed it. 

Lunch was short but tense before The Foursome headed back to court, where it was more of the same. Later on that day, Ursa woke up in her bed, wondering out loud if what she saw early today was just a bad nightmare. But Noren, who was sitting at their personal desk, shook his head before coming to her bed to comfort her. Noren then explained to her that he had suspected The Foursome being a thing for a long time but didn’t expose them out of respect for them and Ursa. He then told her that royalty had long history of having weird peccadilloes and, even if an incest harem weirds him out, it was utimately harmless. Besides, it seems like they actually love each other and seem to bring out the best out of each other, which he thinks is what Ursa wants for her kids, since he knows about their history and thinks that all Ursa wants for them to be self-actualized people content with their lives. Ursa first frowns at what Noren says but eventually agrees with him for all she just wanted her babies to be happy? And if being together does that for them then she just has to get used to it? Right?

And speaking of happiness, after they were done in court the foursome went to the gardens where Zuko started to fulfill the promises he made to his girls by mediating with Ty Lee. Mai and Azula initially complained but once they saw how happy Ty Lee was they shut up. And when they realized that they weren’t going anywhere due to their leashes, they started to meditate alongside their lovers and found that even if they still didn’t understand how it was supposed to help your spirituality, it did help relax them after a stressful day in court. After Ty Lee and Zuko finished, they then went to dinner, where Mai and Azula asked if they could join Ty Lee and Zuko’s mediation sessions and Ty Lee and Zuko quickly agreed, happy that their loved ones finally realized the benefits of mediation. 

They then headed to Zuko and Mai’s chambers, where after engaging in foreplay and making sure that everyone was ready, Zuko started to fulfill his bargain with Mai by pinning Azula to the bed before taking her, while Mai took him from behind while also having Ty Lee take Mai from behind as well. Normally The Foursome had incredibly stamina in the bedroom thanks to their incredible physical condition, but their conditioning was no match for the novel sex position. For the entanglement of limbs, the sibling on sibling action, and the fact that they were all (literally) connected to each other excited them to the point that they only lasted a couple of minutes before they loudly and messily orgasmed on each other. After taking a couple of minutes to catch their breath, Zuko started to switch positions so they could engage in the other position that Mai desired but Azula stopped and suggested a new course. Instead of her straddling Zuko while Mai took her from behind, Zuko would lean against a wall while fucking Azula in the ass in a standing full nelson while Mai, who would be standing as well, would fuck Azula in her pussy and Ty Lee would take Mai from behind while pressing her hands against the wall. Of course if Mai didn’t like that they would continue with the prior agreed position Azula quickly made clear but Mai gave Azula an affectionate kiss on the forehead while patting Azula’s head and told her it was an excellent idea. The Foursome then got into position, making sure they were all stable in their positioning before going at it. And boy did they need to be secure for the novelty of the position combined with heighted closeness and pressure from essentially being squished together made The Foursome even last shorter than the last time and almost made them collapse to the floor due to their powerful orgasms making them lose their bearings for a moment. 

After gently releasing each other and taking a moment to catch their breath, the exhausted Foursome took a quick shower before entering bed, with Mai as Ty Lee’s little spoon and Azula as Zuko’s. And as Zuko started to fall asleep Zuko reflected on how this was just the beginning. For he had a date set up with Ty Lee in the morning after he was done with his morning training but before he had to go to court. And he still had to deal with his mother and the probable public and international backlash to his stunt. Not to mention the very likely intervention his friends would stage in the near future for surely Zuko would have had to lose his mind to be in a harem with Azula, let alone publically leash his girls. But as he laid in bed, with his girls soundly asleep, Zuko was happy with what happened and was going to happen for the experience had brought them all closer, which was the whole point of leashing his girls in the first place. Thus, content with life, Zuko fell asleep, ready to deal with any challenges since he knew his girls would do anything for him and that he in turn would do anything for them.

***

That is a great post, with one hell of a great title

#submission

[pidgebeifong]

atla characters as bnha characters (part 2)

Post-redemption arc Zuko (aka thank-god-ur-not-bald-anymore) as Todoroki Shouto

if you didn’t see this one coming idk what to tell you

Daddy Issues™

emotionally scarring burn on left eye inflicted by a parent

Co-Presidents of the Shitty Dads Club

gorgeous, sweet, out of ur league

have to be at least friendship level 3 to unlock Mysterious Tragic Backstory

fire powers that they wouldn’t use/lost the ability to use for a while

hot (both literally and figuratively)

the favourites of their fandoms

Socially Awkward™

both have a sweet & kind friend who’s partly the reason they’re not angsty and emo anymore, everyone say thank you midoriya for giving us the todoroki we have today (give me platonic!zukaang/tododeku or give me death)

started out friendless and now they have like six bffs

‘farther is for physical distance, further is for metaphorical distance, and father is for emotional distance’

Pre-redemption arc Zuko (aka what-the-fuck-is-that-ponytail) as Bakugou Katsuki

weird hair

Angery Bois™

im sorry they both look like really angry pomeranians i can’t take them seriously

‘you wanna go?! you wanna fuckin go?!’ tell me that isn’t the entirety of bakugou’s dialogue summed up in two sentences

‘let me see what you have’ ‘A KNIFE’ ‘NO’

torments the hell out of peace-loving main protagonist & hunts them down

both have had their lives saved (kinda? at least deku tried) by the main protagonist when they were still assholes

have father figures (kinda? does all might count?) who just want them to stop being fucking assholes and make the right decisions for once but do these dumbasses listen? no

have kidnapped someone/been the one who got kidnapped

100% would recommend anger management therapy. pls for the love of god sort out ur deep-rooted issues

repressed gays

zuko gets a pass bc of his emo tragic backstory but honestly baku was such a jerk to deku in szn 1 for literally no reason. fuck you bakugou

Azula as Dabi (aka Todoroki Touya, we all know it’s true at this point)

yes i have a special place in my heart for villains with blue fire and tragic backstories, what about it

figuratively and literally hotter than their siblings (don’t @ me y’all know it’s true)

the ‘evil’ sibling one of whom was actually just misguided and whose redemption arc i’m still waiting for, but i’m not going to elaborate on that bc the way the atla writers handled azula just makes me mad & I’ll end up talking forever about it

fathers majorly fucked them up (ozai was abusive to azula, fight me)

kinda psycho

god if dabi really does turn out to be a todoroki and still doesn’t get a redemption arc i am suing. my heart cannot take this pain again

their most popular ships are both gay with a person who’s the complete opposite of them and have/will inevitably betray them in the end (tyzula, hot wings. manga readers know what i’m talking about but i don’t think dabi/hawks is too popular a ship with anime-only fans yet)

Ty Lee as Ashido Mina

pink!!! pinkity pink pink

bubbly and fun, peppy attitudes

‘be gay do crimes’

actually incredibly dangerous and formidable even though they don’t really look like it (can you imagine fighting someone who can literally paralyze your entire body with a few punches? or shoot honest-to-god acid at you? we stan two (2) queens)

really flexible and good at sports (ty lee’s acrobatics, mina’s hip hop dancing)

both part of iconic squads (ozai’s angels, the bakusquad)

both their squads have a kinda mean leader (azula, bakugou)

don’t really take criticisms too harshly and always brush off mean comments by azula or bakugou with a smile

yeah i don’t really have a lot to say about them bc they don’t have a lot of screen time (we were robbed) but they’re cool

Mai as Aizawa-Sensei

110% done with ur shit

Did Not Sign Up For This

the OG emos

*drives up to mcdonalds with ten kids in the backseat clamouring for fries, orders one (1) black coffee and leaves*

every day their will to live dies a little more

neither of them have bending/powers that are useful in combat so they’ve both learnt to be really good at fighting the traditional way, without bending or quirks

just let them sleep ffs

kinda hot when they’re fighting

dragged into dangerous situations by the main characters when they just want to mind their own business and take a nap

‘wake me up (wake me up inside)’

Uncle Iroh as All Might

father figures

cheerful, jovial, always there to save the day

very powerful & strong

kinda old

both have antagonistic relationships with the ‘abusive fathers in power’ in each of their respective series

you probably can’t tell but i really don’t like iroh (even tho i adore all might) so it’s kind of hard to find good stuff to say about him, but i’m trying

give good advice that’s useless anyway bc the protagonists literally never follow it

both adopt a young boy who isn’t actually their kid but whom they have a closer relationship with than the boy’s actual dad has with the boy

train that young boy to become their successor

Fire Lord Ozai as Endeavour (aka human pieces of shit)

FUUUUUUCCCCKKK YOOOUUUU

burn in hell

apologise to your fucking kids

why was end*avour given a redemption arc in the manga that’s just as bad as h*ggar getting that stupid fucking redemption arc in voltron, makes absolutely zero (0) sense

good at one (1) thing and it’s giving their kids emotional trauma that they’ll have to carry around for the rest of their lives

have stupid beards and moustaches that makes them look like paedophiles

being indirectly/directly responsible for burns on their sons’ left eyes

hold on a sec i’ll be right back just give me a moment, i gotta go punt these dickheads into the mfing sun

if they were dying of hunger and i had a feast in front of me, i’d tell my servants to burn the leftovers

Princess Ursa as Todoroki Rei

both forced into marriages because of their bloodline/powers that would make their future kids strong

had abusive husbands who were very powerful and feared

scarred their kids (literally)

disappeared from the household while their kids were still young due to an incident where they killed/harmed a family member (ursa poisoned fire lord azulon, rei scalded shouto’s eye)

had a child/children who was/were disregarded in favour of the child who was favoured bc of their abnormally strong powers

unintentionally abusive (ursa fucked azula up bad, don’t @ me)

idk what else to say we got like two and a half seconds of screentime in total for each of them

Bonus:

Emo Zuko (like even more than normal) as Tokoyami Fumikage

professional Edgelords™ such darkness

so drama

very emo

Sparky Sparky Boom Man as Bakugou Katsuki (aka sparky sparky boom boi)

boom boom time to die

#avatar the last airbender #atla #prince zuko #zuko #azula #princess azula #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #all might #uncle iroh #endeavor #fire lord ozai #tokoyami fumikage #mai #ty lee #ashido mina #mina ashido #fumikage tokoyami #ozai’s angels #princess ursa #rei todoroki #dabi #todoroki touya #sparky sparky boom man