#HI I REALIZED THIS WAS STUCK IN MY DRAFTS FOR FUCKING MONTHS SORRY

[stealingyourbones]

Ok! You've convinced me! If I want to be part of this community, I should explore the source material. I don't know if I'll like the artform, but if nothing else it's a cultural juggernaut I can research. My mom grew up watching Batman the Animated series, so I know that's an entry point I can try out, but I do like webcomics and manga, so I know that I might like comics better. It's an odd criteria, but is there a batman comic I can start with that's aesthetically pleasing?

Ooo aesthetically pleasing? That’s one I haven’t heard before. I’ll throw you a handful of choices of my favorite pretty comics!

Also I do 100% reccomend Batman The Animated Series which is my favorite interpretation of Batman to this day as it is for many, that and Justice League and Justice League United are WONDERFUL gateways too! (My favorite animated DC series of the time is Superman The Animated Series tied with BtAS)

I always recommend in order: Batman Year One, Batman Long Halloween, and Batman Dark Victory as it’s how I got into Batman in the first place and it’s a pretty good jumping off point. They also have movies of all 3.

mAN ok this is hard because aesthetic comics are SUCH a personal preference. Comic artists will constantly change around all the time. The current Batman/Superman Worlds Finest comic run is INCREDIBLY aesthetically pleasing and pretty as it’s drawn by Dan Mora so that could be a good go to.

- The Dark Knight Returns. It’s has a very fun gritty artstyle that I adore and it’s a comic that changed comics as we know it.

- Batman Universe is a wonderfully fun comic and his artstyle is fun so definitely check that one out.

- All Star Superman (2005-2008) has… ok artwork. But you get used to it and it’s story is one of the best written for Superman modern day.

- JLA Tower of Babel. Art is nice and the story is about Batman’s contingencies falling into the wrong hands. Good shit

Onto some Elseworld stories that aren’t canon but I LOVE the artstyles:

- Batman White Knight’s artstyle is BEAUTIFUL but isn’t a very good interpretation for your first time reading comics as it isn’t normal characterization of everyone.

- Batman Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth drawn by Dave McKean. It isn’t my favorite comic with it’s very edgy “hey what if batman is insane” (which yeah no shit he is insane) but the artstyle is uncanny and disturbing and beautiful.

- Kingdom Come. You have to know a bit about comics beforehand, I’d just recommend reading an article or blogpost critiquing 90s comic books, and behold the genuine beauty and glory that is this story. Painted by Alex Ross it’s one of the most beautiful comics out there.

They’re available online, your local library, or at your local comic shop! I hope you have a blast checking out the cool things comics have to offer!

[hellgirlthings]

this is not proof read yall, and this came from my obscure collection of 3am drafts lol- but anyways fuckboy!eddie plagues my mind on the daily tbh

One thing about Eddie Munson, is that he will probably be the best fuck you ever had. Seriously though, he’s ruined every single man for you and you’re not even dating him. Being friends with benefits with Eddie is great don’t get me wrong…. up until it isn’t.

As per usual, your routine involves going over to the trailer every friday- lest either of you has something planned for the night. This friday is no different, he had yet to say if anything came up so you’d just assumed that everything was on track.

Now look, being friends with benefits doesn’t necessarily mean that either of you are strictly seeing the other person, but you would at least expect him to tell you if he was seeing other girls. Since he never did you naturally assumed that he was the seeing anyone other than you. Thats where you fucked up for the second time. When it comes to Eddie, assuming isn’t a guarantee, and quite frequently assuming leads to him managing to do the complete opposite of what you’d think he would.

Knocking on the trailer door, you heard a few muffled swears as well as shuffling feet- which only came to a halt as Eddie opened the door. Cheeks flushed, bangs stuck against his forehead by a sheer layer of sweat and wide eyes as he looks at you. A good five seconds pass when you noticed *her*. Jess was her name? You don’t remember clearly, being that when you had first met her Eddie was more occupied in getting you into The Hideout’s bathroom for a quick fuck than to introduce the two of you. Instead of saying anything, he simply gapes at you while you awkwardly shift your weight, lips in a flat line.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had company… next time just maybe let me know?” You try your best to keep your voice steady, even though your heart felt like it had dropped to your stomach. What would be the point in getting mad? You two aren’t together. Quickly gathering your composure, you start heading back to your car, leaving a very dumbfounded eddie at the door. It takes him a few seconds to compute whatever fuck up he had just done before he’s running after you (more like jogging, but still he was trying to get to you before you hopped into the car), grabbing your arm right as you’re about to open the car door.

“Shit, baby please let me explain” Eddie’s voice sounds strained, much too guilty for your liking. Shaking your head, you refuse to look at him.

“Eddie ‘s fine, you don’t have to explain anything” You murmur, really not wanting to have this uncomfortable conversation whilst Jess was sitting in the trailer half naked, waiting for him to go back.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’d seen a ghost as to how pale he had become. His thumb brushes against your arm in attempt to comfort you, or actually comfort him because right now he’s freaking the fuck out. You successfully shake your arm away, opening the car door and swiftly hopping in the driver’s seat without him getting ahold of you.

“Sweetheart please, we can talk about this I promise. I forgot to call you” Yeah that was definitely not what you wanted to hear. He simply forgot to tell you that instead of fucking you like he has for the last 7 months, he was going to fuck some random chick he barely knows from a nasty ass bar. Great. You scoff incredulously, not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth. Without saying another word, you turn the car engine on and drive away.

[nerdieforpedro]

Weddings 101 with Dieter Bravo

Chapter one: Transportation? I'll Cover it

Dieter Bravo x plus size OFC (Maya)

Fanfiction 18+ (not this chapter but later chapters will be)

Main Masterlist / Dieter Bravo Masterlist / Weddings 101 with Dieter / AO3 Link

Summary: Maya is just trying to be a good big sister. Yet, even the planes are conspiring against her. She encounters Dieter who who likes that sass and that ass. No candy was harmed in the writing of this chapter.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, self-doubt, bad jokes, Dieter being soft and cute, card games, body insecurities, brief mentions of drug use and alcohol, etc. (none too serious, that’s for later)

Notes: I've wanted to write Dieter for awhile and I'm glad that I was able to get a rough draft together, outline and now part one. I think it will be three or four parts depending on where I can take the story. I swear I did go over it several times while editing, but I was laughing at my own jokes, so there may still be some typos. 🤔

“So, what you're saying is that even though I have paid three months in advance and have my confirmation code right here both in my phone and printed I don't have my seat on my flight?!” A woman stood with both hands on the counter, visibly frustrated but not yelling. 

“Yes, yes ma'am that, that is what I'm saying I again I'm so sorry just so sorry.” The young man at the service counter apologized again. It’s all he could do.

“I mean I appreciate that you're sorry but it's not gonna get me on the flight. I need to be on the flight so that I can be at my brother's wedding. Is there another flight going out later today?” The woman asked, wiping her brow. She had worn a sweatshirt and leggings because it was supposed to be cold in the airport and on the plane. The young man tapped a few keys on his computer and looked up, his eyes wide.

“There is ma'am, but the flights aren’t going out until like, 10 tonight.” He broke the news. The woman groaned.

“Sir you you realize it's it's eight in the morning. How… how can there not be any more flights to Hawaii of all places until ten tonight?!” She questioned, that time she did yell. She felt it was ludicrous, the entire situation.

“Well ma'am it's it's based on availability and, and, and consumer interest and it looks like most people were were interested in morning flights. No one was really booking any of the afternoon flights so we cancelled those and just you know some people wanted the red eye flights. I mean we will give you vouchers for the price of your flight and an extra $250 for future flights with our airline. Because I feel like that that's exactly this time…” All she heard was that she wasn’t going to be in Hawaii by later today. Which meant she wouldn’t check in, then have to find another hotel, maybe it would be near the wedding venue if they even had any availability ….all horrible.

Maya rubbed her temples in defeat because she had planned that she was going to fly out in the morning from San Francisco where she was now and then fly the rest of the way to Hawaii. She was now stuck in San Francisco with no way to get to Hawaii on time to participate in her brother's weeklong wedding to albeit his lovely wife but fucking destination weddings man. The woman stepped away from the counter, her gray slip-on sneakers squeaking on the cool tile floor.

“Hey what's cooking good looking, you need a flight out?” A man in a gray robe, sunglasses inside an airport for some reason, a Gray T-shirt, striped Gray and brown pajama pants maybe and grey Crocs. He appeared to be holding a goat. He sauntered up to the service desk alongside Maya and leaned on it casually. The man had been keeping track of the exchange, it was much more entertaining than the random loud kids running around and all the stretched-out pants that said juicy and they were not in fact juicy. Instead, he found the loud woman to be much more succulent. 

“I mean I do, but he said there's no more flights out. What? Are you going to give me your seat because I got a wide ass.” Mya put her hands on her large hips, she leaned forward on her right foot and her thigh jiggled. The man in the robe took notice of her hips. They looked like they’d swallow his fingers when he held onto them, he would like to know for sure.

The man laughed and replied, “No. I got a private jet and honestly, I'm tired of looking at just my assistant because he tells me all kinds of stuff I can't do or shouldn't be doing.” He pointed at a nervous young man who held a briefcase and a duffle bag. “You wanna ride with me Miss Toblerone? You seem fun.” 

Perplexed, Maya considered both the man's appearance and the offer. He seemed like he had just rolled out of bed, was holding a goat but also had this really fluffy hair. Honestly, it just made her wanna smack his head and like play with his downy mop a little bit. The man had this little mischievous looking grin that was surrounded by a little mustache and facial situation going. It could be that she was tired from getting up at 3:00 in the morning to make sure she was at the airport packing up her crap and making sure that it was indeed the two carry-ons and one personal bag per the airline.  It could have also been the horrendous drive over that mostly was sitting in traffic for a ride that maybe should have taken 15 minutes but took an hour and a half. She had to factor the time in and also finding which gate after security, which security was its own monster in and of itself so at this point a pajama clad stranger with fluffy hair sexy grin and a goat was looking real good right now.

“Fuck it let's go, my name's Maya. I not particularly a fan of Toblerone though, they’re decadent. I guess it’s good to have one everyone once in awhile.” She replied to him and reached her hand out, he took one hand off the goat and shook it then held on to it a little too long. The fluffy man kissed it and trailed his lips up her wrist which the woman shivered a bit because it's like who who does that out outside of Bridgeton? Her new traveling partner said his name was Dieter Bravo which sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. Just like she couldn't quite place him, she felt like she would remember if she saw any man looking like this, but she'd worry about that later right? Now she just really needed to get on a flight from San Francisco to Hawaii, so she gathered up her purse, her backpack and suitcase follow Dieter, but he stopped her and told his assistant to take her backpack and bag from her. Bravo then questioned why she had so few bags, Maya told him that she didn't want to pay the carry-on fees because it the price of the flight out here was outrageous already in addition to the hotel. Dieter asked why she was going to all the trouble, she told him it was for her youngest brother’s wedding.

“I think you can be more indulgent then that Toblerone. Especially for a wedding.” The actor took her hand and walked with her while the assistant got another person to help with all the bags, the majority were Dieter’s.

Dieter said once they got to Hawaii, he would look around for some more clothes for her. Maya laughed and said he's probably going to have to look hard for that stuff because she didn’t know if any of those designer stores there would have her size. Likely not, those mannequins are probably one of her thighs. Dieter grinned and told her that it was alright, there’s more to work with and to use. He then cleared his throat and said that he meant as far as fashion choices.

Maya had a feeling she knew what he meant. She had an extra bounce in her step at the thought giggled. She may consider it after they’re off the jet and they can find some privacy. She wasn’t into people watching her have sex. 

Once at the jet they were greeted with two stewardesses in suspiciously short skirts, but the woman figured that's probably what Dieter or whoever Dieter’s people were had paid.  Honestly this was a completely free flight, so it didn’t matter how she felt about anything. Besides, how much were those stewardesses getting paid? Could it be a part time job maybe, it’s something to look into. The pair were served with sushi which was actually pretty lovely, she hadn't had California rolls in quite some time. Bravo offered her two of his, he enjoyed watching her put them in her mouth. He did offer some wine but she said she's not really into wine. 

“We got a bartender over here tell him what you want.”

So Maya told the mixologist to make her some lemon drops which was basically lemon, lime, and vodka with a little bit of sugar added in it. Dieter said that he hadn't had those for quite a while so they toasted and took off toward their destination. It was when they were in midair, when Dieter took out a pack of cards and shuffle them saying that they were going to play poker.

“My dear sweet man, I'mma level with you. I don't know a thing about poker. The only card games I've played are go fish and Uno.” Maya chuckled as she continued to sip, the alcohol was making her slur already and her eyes were a tad glassy.

Dieter’s eyes widened. 

“I haven’t played Uno for years! Finally, someone else who wants to play uno!”

He hopped up out of his seat which the captain had not turned off the seat belt sign, so he bobbed and weaved a little bit and went to somewhere in the back of the plane. Maya couldn't quite see where he went, the fluffy man grabbed little Uno box and Maya cautioned him by saying you know we should wait until the seat belt sign goes off because she wasn’t trying to bob and weave as well on the plane. After about thirty minutes, the sign did go off and then they were free to sit across from each other at a little table that was built into the jet. In setting up for the Uno game, the two flight attendants couldn't be bothered because they're just they're here to look hot, not for weird games. The young assistant was just so happy that Dieter had someone else to focus on, he was taking a nap because that man looked stressed, he was probably going to have gray hairs before he turned thirty.

“Toblerone, we got to make this game interesting though.” Dieter stated as he removed his robe and shuffled the card. “I’m gonna take this seriously.” His sunglasses came off next, serious indeed.

Maya scoffed, finishing off her drink and leaned forward. Removing her sweatshirt, she revealed she had on a pale pink t-shirt that read ‘Live loud and love long.’ She rested her elbows on her knees while Bravo delt the cards, she noted his triangle tattoo on his forearm and wondered how long it took to fill that in. She just had scars and stretch marks. Dieter’s eyes floated to her shirt and licked his lips. He found himself curious about the second part of that shirt. 

“So, it's not just enough to be playing Uno in a private jet? We have to have stakes too? And my name’s Maya, not Toblerone. Still not a bad nickname though.” The plush woman picked up her cards and scanned them, not a bad hand, but not great either. “How often are you playing games with stakes in the air, lovely man?” She was trying to find a nickname for him as well, none sounded cool though. Dieter could have cared less, he soaked up any name she was willing to call him. Her voice sounded like smooth caramel to him. Wait, he had an idea.

“Yeah, I haven't really done it with anybody else for like a while.” He paused. Was he just talking about the cards? His assistant was normally troubled by Dieter’s lack of routine, but kept his schedule packed, which left little time for extracurriculars he was used to. The pregnant pause caused Maya’s head to tilt with her lips pursed.  “No, no, no, no. Scratch that. I do it all the time. Cards all over the place. On the walls, Several packs at a time. All the packs.” The croc clad man stuttered as he attempted to clarify what he meant, which just solidified what he said further. He’d won awards for his acting, yet his was doing a piss poor job right now. “If I win,” Dieter explained as he picked up his cards and looked at them, once of his hands held his chin, presumably deep in thought. He was but he felt like he embarrassed himself. There was no way she was going to agree to meet with him after they left the plane. “I get to keep calling you Kit Kat, Milky Way or Toblerone and you have dinner with me.” 

Maya just stared at him smiling. “Dinner? I honestly thought you were going to mention cards on the ceiling and on the beach.” She waved her hand, their banter was one thing, but dinner? This man did not want dinner. He just wanted a fun night because his assistant has been cockblocking him. She wasn’t opposed, but she didn’t want to be a fun fat fuck for him either. It wouldn’t be the sex that would be bad, though it could be, she just didn’t want to wake up with that shame again or alone in bed as she had too often before. Her smile dimmed. “I’ll agree to the nickname game but not dinner. We ate here on the plane.” Her eyes focused on his hands, then lips, Maya couldn’t directly at his face. It was bad enough she was considering it.

Bravo noticed her demeanor change. The card talk had been too much. It’s not like he hadn’t thought of getting her in bed or wherever she would agree since seeing her at the airport. He didn’t want her to feel bad about it nor obligated. Maya had been fun to talk to, he hadn’t felt the need to snort or shoot anything yet. He wanted to know why, he thought dinner might help with that. 

“What we ate wasn’t a full meal. I’m still hungry.” He played his first card, “I want dinner with you because I like you, Maya. For more than getting a quick thrill, plus if I don’t see you later, I won’t be able to use any of your nicknames.” Dieter flicked his chin toward her, indicating her move.

Smooth bastard. “Fine but if I win, I get to call you Sugar lips, soufflé or pretty boy.” Maya sucked her teeth and drew a card from the pile, she didn’t have the right color or number. She started to tap her foot nervously, this was dangerous. He was cunning, deceptively so. She hated that she was enjoying their wordplay.

“Wait the first one I get but why the second one? And why pretty boy? You called me man earlier Toblerone?” He was able to put down two more cards. Maya cursed under her breath and was able to be rid of one card on her turn.

“We’ll see how this game goes and that will tell me if I call you a man or a boy Dieter.”

Maya lost uno and Dieter decided he would keep Toblerone and Milky Way. He did tell her that she could call him Sugar Lips. He liked that one. Maya drank a second lemon drop as did Dieter. Now dinner was happening off this plane. He danced with his third drink, snaking his hips in a circle to music only he could hear. After polishing it off, he grabbed Maya’s hands and pulled her up to dance as well. 

“What song are thinking of Sugar Lips? I can’t tell by your dancing.” The man’s laugh was infectious, and Maya started cackling as well. They spun around as once of his hands ran down to her side, grabbing a handful of her hip. He guided her from side to side, slowing down. His lips kissed the back of the hand he still held in his. 

“No particular song. I just felt like dancing. I get to have dinner with you, my Toblerone. I’m excited.” Dieter answered, he kissed her jaw and met her eyes. His hand on her hip loosened as he started to circle his palm over her hip and part of her ass. “You’re soft Maya. Wanna find out what makes you that way. I feel like I need to, you know?” Her breath hitched with each of his touches, her resistance fading with each movement they took together. Would she make it to dinner?

Next: Chapter 2

Tag list:

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[pennysucks]

Well it's 12am, I have nothing else to do so

Let's do some oc introductions, shall we? 😜

Buckle up boys cuz this is a big one

(Cringe old art in coming, I need to update these character sheets)

(Note: I plan on making these guys' story into a webcomic, when I'm going to actually post it is completely unknown to me 💀)

(Note 2: I may or may not change everyone's designs later, who knows)

SO ONE BY ONE NOW LET'S START WITH THE FIRST OUT OF THE 3 MAIN CHARACTERS YE WHICH IS THE ONE YOU SEE IN THE MIDDLE, THE GREEN CODED ONE 😢

This ugly guy's name is Keith and if you couldn't tell from the cringe ass pose past me drew him at (I really need to redraw these character sheets) he's a prince 💀

Before I start yapping about his character and personality, let's Yap about his design first 😜

This is a very early draft design I did of all the pookies with no references and no idea of their characters or story in mind. You could say I was just bored and made some ocs for the shake of making them out of scratch (not really, yk that one song Solder poet king that was super popular a few months ago? I made them around that era and ye it's highly influenced by that if you couldn't tell ((the name of the webcomic is literally soldier poet king, I could not have been less creative))) it's clear that I didn't think of their designs very much

As you can see the anatomy is so off but to my defense I wasn't very good at drawing back then. The designs them self's didn't change that much, the only things I did differently was refine their head shapes and make their clothes look more time-periodly accurate with references (for the shake of simplicity, let's say the time period is around the medieval era)

When it comes to Keith's design, I definitely changed him the most out of the three. The buttoned shirt (or idk how it's called sorry) changed color at least thrice, from a dark green to a bright green to a more desaturated one so the eye doesn't get drawn there, and the belt changed from yellow to green since it stuck out waaaayy too much

Now that I look at it I kinda like the darker version, not sure if I'll change it tho

The other pieces of clothing in his design I simply couldn't bring myself to change. The green cloak he wears is insanely important to the story, to the point that it's comical, and his shoes and pants seem uninteresting enough that your attention won't be drawn to it but not boring enough to drag down the design, at least in my opinion

As for his hair, damm this guy tortured me HARD

The original hair style I gave him was insanely lazy and I just gave him the generic three form strands look I give to all the characters that I have no idea what to do with their hair.

But after some research I realized that he really doesn't look like a prince? Like at all??? 😭 not to mention his personality isn't shown in it whatsoever (shape language wasn't a thing I considered back when I first made him) so I made a second design concept for his hair much later on that I liked a lot more! (Second pick 😜)

Unfortunately, I was attached really hard to the first design and I couldn't bring myself to pick between them so for a while his hair design was the first one even though I kept the new one in the back of my mind

Finally, a few months ago, I asked some of my friends their opinion and they all choose the second one with no hesitation saying that it fits his personality a lot more (the little that I described his personality that is) and that it gave more of the "I'm royalty fuck you" vibe I was going for

Nonetheless tysm pookies if you're reading this, it was insane help 😜( @your-ne1ghbor @watchingthewalls pookies for the help 😜 I don't have nubs' tumblr but I thank him too 😍)

After realizing I have insane attachment issues to early drafts I decided to work on his face a little

I must admit that at the time I had huge same face syndrome, and that accompanied with the fact that I make my characters faces Barbie like (in case you dk what that means, I'm basically referring to the fact that the characters skins appear too perfect and plastic 😭) made me want to force myself to think of some sort of natural skin imperfection (obv it's not an imperfection, everyone is beautiful I just dk how else to describe it)

Considering he is royalty and his father is insanely striked when it comes to image, he probably wouldn't have pimples and rinkles and stuff (ik he's too young for rinkles but I considered it anyway). I did think of giving him a scar but that was just way too gacha life oc from 2018 vibe so I left it (also the fact that it would make zero sense for him to have a scar since he has been locked in the palace his whole life?? And his father is insanely overprotective for reasons I'll get to another time 💀). I did like the idea of giving him an eye freckle but that would just make my job at drawing him every single time at the comic insanely difficult NOT to mention that eye freckles are mostly genetic (the exception being from extra exposure to the sun WHICH HE DOESN'T HAVE SO???) (Not to mention part2 that his eyes are a very dark color and the freckle won't be visible anyway)

I decided to go the easy route of giving him a mole next to his mouth until I think of something better, but I doubt I'm going to change it, like I previously said, insane attachment issues to designs

Now that I have nothing else to add on the design process, let's go to the story part 😜

I don't wanna reveal his whole story since I would just spoil the entire thing so I'll just give simple info

For starters he's an only child and lives in the castle with his father. He never met his mother and was commanded by his father to never speak of her or mention her to anyone ever. As a naturally apathetic kid, he didn't care to think further about this but he'll regret that later in the story 😜😜

As his father is protective as hell for unknown to him reasons, he isn't allowed to talk to any one of the townsfolk if it doesn't involve his royal duties ( hehe duty) and he's absolutely not allowed to be friends with any of the staff for image, superiority and hierarchy reasons. Buuuut unfortunately Keith isn't one to follow rules and he ended up becoming friends with the two other main characters that you see in the first image of this post. He became friends with them the instant they both appear at the castle and he sees them as the siblings he never had 😜 but he has to hide the friendship since his father might banish them for all he knows

He is extremely young, way too young to be a king for the standards of their world, but despite so he is still forced to become one much sooner than he would have liked. His father is growing very old and he can't stay in the throne anymore so he's planning on giving it to his only son. Knowing how reluctant he is of this however, he avoids to tell him that he moved his crowning ceremony up a few months and it'll now happen much sooner then originally expected. (Conflict starter say what? Also literally the B plot of the story lmao)

He tries to find things that he's good at before , quote from him "He steps foot to the throne and his life ends forever". He's afraid his life will slip from his hands the instant he becomes king and he won't get to enjoy the time he has, so he tries to do new things, find things he's passionate about and do anything new and interesting that he wouldn't normally do that he gets presented with

Personality wise, he's a very sceptical kid and he definitely needs to see a therapist about his anxiety or something said anxiety also kinda sorta maybe making him an insanely pessimistic person (classing completely with the other two characters being one an optimist and the other a realist) 💀 apart from that he keeps an apathetic view at most things, especially when they don't involve him. Oh did I mention he's selfish? Only a little bit, like madel pines from gravity falls level selfish yk, and he is overly stubborn and wants things to go his way. Characteristics of a prince character, am I right or am I right? Apart from that, he's very caring of others no matter the level of superiority he has over them (hes kinda blind to the hierarchy thing, he has development on that I swear) and is a super curious person, definitely willing to go an extra mile to reveal a secret (A plot of the story say what). He is very introverted considering he rarely talks to people, but that doesn't stop him from being friendly to strangers. He is more the quiet type tho, definitely preferring to be the listener in a conversation 😢.

Wow I yapped a lot, did I mention he has plant powers? Ye magic is a thing here pretty cool right?

Anyway I also posted these guys on my art fight page but the designs and description are outdated, especially Keith's 💀💀

That's all tho I'm done lore dumping

[moookar]

could you tell me about ur ocs? i don't know like anything about them at all but they seem super cool! /nf

GWAAH thank you for the ask <33 i love any opportunity to infodump, this made my night

all the important stuff is here! that's the short version, it mostly focuses on characters which i recommend reading first i think. It's kind of out of date though </3

i figure i can go over some of the plot here :] but first some lore notes: generally 1820s-ish, takes place in a kingdom named Wralan, magic is a thing although im in the middle of redoing it

the first Important plot thing that happens is the duke and his eldest daughter's death. Caparal is left in line for succession, but he *really, really* doesn't want to do that--he suffers from really severe social anxiety & never expected this & is currently mourning & is genuinely not good at the skills needed for this & & &.

*Lionel*, on the other hand, has wanted literally nothing more than to make a difference his whole life, and is actually a competent, intelligent charismatic person--a strong leader.

(He's also 19 years old and has severe anxiety, paranoia, and isolation issues.) (He's a better duke, but it's not healthy.)

Caparal giving this role to his younger brother made him a mild laughingstock at best, embarrassing to be associated with at worst.

Caparal and Lionel were really only close when they were younger teenagers. (oooh i wrote a short story about them at this time, after i finish the 3rd draft i could DM it to anyone curious). They strongly drift apart after Lionel becomes duke, partially due to the massive amount of stress Lionel is under (his #1 coping mechanism is isolating himself) and partially due to the fact Caparal is extremely busy with his work in alchemy and is hoping Lionel will come to him if he needs help.

4 months later, after Lionel has established himself as duke and realized that he is frankly Fucked because of how irresponsible with money his father was, a very polite person representing a prolific bank in Wralan very nicely offers to help him :) out with this rough financial situation :) just giving him a little money to help him get on his feet :) (bold faced bribes. Lionel is near forced to accept, and so begins his fraught relationship with Tiguuak Prasad, evil bbg of the century)

8 months later, lionel comes to believe caparal is planning to usurp lionel's place; Lionel genuinely doesn't understand why Caparal wouldn't want to be duke, for one, and assumes it's some sort of 3 steps ahead move he doesn't understand, but more importantly he thinks he has evidence. i don't know for sure what this "evidence" is yet--it's contingent on me finishing the magic system--but it's something that Lionel, someone who was already expecting something bad, can make a hasty judgement about.

Caparal remains.. completely unaware of this. He completely misses every cue. sorry king

So like. when Caparal turned down being duke that kind of messed up his social standing right. so ahaha his fiance's (Andrea Munteanu) family doesn't want to form that connection with him anymore. but terminating that relationship would be a boldfaced insult so their marriage is just kind of ???? indefinitely postponed

MEANING. Lionel literally cannot just kick Caparal out. Caparal moving somewhere else without his fiance's family's consultation would also be seen as terminating that relationship which is a blow Lionel Really can't take right now so they're kind of just ? stuck in the same fortress??

Anyway Lionel's fear gets much much worse over more months and basically just boils over into you know what FUck this. He hates being in this limbo. He's just going to kill him first.

So while Caparal is out on a trip, out of Lionel's sight (and therefor a death he can't see), he hires an assassin.

VERY MUCH unfortunately for Lionel a person named De Witte would very much like to fuck over the bank that's bribing him (for reasons I will not go into because this post is getting way too long)

So they hire a merc company to make sure Caparal doesn't get assassinated :) and the mercenaries on the job (well, more like mercenary) are Delayne and Rye! our other two protagonists!

And around here is where book 1 begins!

<3333 thank you for the ask mwah mwah mwah. I love political intrigue if you couldn't tell. anyway i shall leave you with 1 song that i think describes the characters lyrically

Lionel: Ship in a Bottle. Caparal: Good as it Gets. Rye: Worst Case Scenario. Delayne: Numb Little Bug.

Rye and Delayne are the fan favorites (/j, they are my friends' favorites though) and I did them dirty here <////3. Sorry guys. I'll post more about them soon i prommy

you can find all art of them in the "#exiled ocs" tag! <33

[miseries-mistress]

BY THE WAY I LOVE U

but however, i would still really like to request a fic (at least a small sketch/drabble) on mark renton, maybe something with obsession.

I will look forward to it, i so want to see mark in yer performance, honey!

THE EYES OF ANOTHER | MARK RENTON

Synopsis: The led lights ghosted over Mark's skin, the music a constant thrum under his fingertips. He was out drinking again with his friends, the remains of heroin being the perfect high to get through the night without a woman at his side- or so he thought. 

Warnings: female reader, mentions of sex, alcohol, heroin, making out, pretty mild tbh. W/C: 1592

Notes: I have been sick for the past two and a half weeks, so i am so incredibly sorry for the lack of updates. i will try to post more frequently and get some of my requests done. this has been sitting in my drafts for months, and i have finally found the energy to edit it. i will try to write something else with possession for mark and tag you in it, but right now, this is the best i can do (btw i love you too &lt;33)

em masterlist

Mark Renton had come to know a few things in his life. He had what most men could ever want, heroin, pure as the devil's snow, and a couple of friends to share it with. For a while, Mark was content with the few necessities of life he had acquired. After all, what problem was there that heroin couldn't solve?

It turned out that a bar was where he found the answer to that.

He was sitting between Spud and Tommy; the remnants of the heroin in his veins let him coast between the paradise of no worries with a flimsy grasp on reality, just enough to make him remember the euphoric feeling when it left his system entirely. 

Begbie was waving his hands sporadically, his voice carrying above the bass of the music pumping. He had a girl, drunk enough to be a blackout, hanging off his arms while his hands roughly grouped at her flesh. He didn't know where the fuck Sick Boy or Spud's first girlfriend in six months was, and from the looks of it, they didn't know either. Then there was Tommy's girlfriend, who snuggled under his muscular arms while he moved wisps of her hair out of her face. 

Disgusting, Mark thought to himself, turning away from the affectionate couple. He was surrounded by people clouded with lust or, in Tommy's case, love that Mark realized what heroin in all its glory could never do for him; sex. 

It was a weird writhing feeling in his chest that persuaded him to abruptly stand from his seat, his mind fixed on drowning the foreign feeling in his chest. Yes, anything was better than wallowing in self-pity when his mind could be floating further into an infinite abyss where his anxieties could never truly reach him. 

He flagged the bartender, and the man gave an acknowledging nod, knowing Mark well enough to have his order memorized. His fingers tapped against the sticky hardwood. Well, his skin stuck to a mixture of alcohol, and…he couldn't tell what was mixed with the alcohol besides the dash of blood. Out of boredom more than anything else, he laid the palm of his hand against the surface. He let his hand stick before he pulled it off, his flesh stretching as it clung to the stick before his hand was fully released. He flexed his hand, the substance adhering to his palm in an uncomfortable sticky mess.  

His drink was set in front of him, and his hand dived into his pockets to fish out the appropriate change. He stopped his eye from becoming as wide saucers as adrenaline began loudly thrumming through his poisoned veins. 

He didn't have his wallet. 

Now Mark knew damn well that he had stuffed his wallet in his jeans. He never left the house without it. Meaning, from the limited options he's left with, it's been stolen. 

He curses himself, his mouth moving to form more profanities before a self-assured, feminine voice speaks up. 

"And that man's drink, too, since he seems to be having a bit of trouble."

What caught him off guard was not someone else paying for his drink or the apparent lack of a Scottish accent but the…woman in the voice... 

A woman was talking to him. 

Him. 

Mark Renton. 

His head moved at the sound of your voice as you slid over the appropriate change. The bartender almost imperceptibly raised his eyebrow, knowing him well enough that women never talk to him and surely none of your stature. But, on the other hand, Mark is sure he's never seen anyone so beautiful. The sight of you was enough to start that climb that he could only reach with the addictive buzz of drugs. 

"Thanks," is all he manages to utter, his eyes still fixated on you. 

"No problem…Mark Renton?" His ears perk at his name, leaving your lips. It's such a sweet sound, like it was laced with seduction and all things beautiful, incarnated into one voice that seemed to rise brilliantly above the rest. He's almost too caught up in his love-sick daze to realize you know his name. 

Almost. 

"How do you know my…." 

Your fingers thread through the fading wallet, raising it between your fingers for show. It takes Mark a second to recognize the wallet as his own, and his body snaps to attention. How in the world did you pickpocket him? Was he that far gone not to feel a hand in his pants- not to mention yours? 

"I couldn't help myself. I hope you don't mind," you sheepishly smile, tossing the wallet back to Mark. Immediately his hand digs into his cash, frowning at the amount. He definitely left his apartment with more in there. 

He stares at you, dumbfounded, before it clicks, and his face falls into understanding. Not only did you pay for his drink with his own money, but with your own. You chuckle, raising your glass to your lips, as you seem to understand his expression. 

"I warned you." You take a sip, taking pleasure in the sight of Mark while he blinks at you before taking his drink, swallowing the pale brown liquid while his irises observe you curiously. 

Before Mark had given himself any time to think about it, he took a bold step forward. He wasn't one to initiate things; hell, he hardly moved from his seat next to Spud, but now this odd sense of purpose was filling his chest. It took ahold of him, grasping him firmly towards you, a woman who had heartily captured his attention and his heart. 

"What's your name?" 

"Why do you want to know that, Mark?" you purr, meeting him halfway, drink still loosely held in your hand, your cocky smirk never diminishing.

Under the strobe lights, headache-inducing music with just the right amount of heroin and alcohol consuming any insecurity he might have previously had, he takes time to admire the structure of your face, the slope of your nose, the curve of your brow, the flutter of your lashes with the gentle purse of your lips, igniting a flame inside him that he had not felt for a long while; desire. It slowly filled him, tainting his mind into wanting something beyond playful banter. 

"Well, I like you a lot," he shouted over the music, and your smirk dissolved into a smile.

"We just met."

 "That's the point." You both share a laugh as you shake your head. Mark's irises remain transfixed on you as if you're pulling him in with some kind of spell. You must feel the electricity brimming in your veins because you look up to find his eyes overflowing with an admiration you don't often see in men. 

That same electricity winds around his heart, pulling him closer. His heart pounds so wildly against his rib cage that his mind briefly flickers to the possibility that you're able to hear it. Within seconds, your lips crash together, molding forcefully and earnestly with your honeysuckle ones. The kiss is filled with wild abandon, desperate for contact as Mark's hands find your waist upon instinct. Electricity sparks with each touch, sending you both spiraling further down the rabbit hole of untamed passion. It consumes you, molding you into him, and you can't think of a time when you've fit so perfectly with someone like pieces of a previously unsolved puzzle. 

Mark finds himself much in the same boat, his thoughts wrapped around the noose of arousal, suffocating him under his own craving. He can see why his friends are so addicted to sex. If a kiss felt this good, then your body would be an unimaginable pleasure he was certainly not worthy of.

His tongue pushes its way through the barricade of your teeth, exploring every crevice he can find, his body pressing closer to yours to chase the sweet friction you grace him with. 

He earns a delicious whine from the depths of your throat, and it spurs him on further. While swept up in your aromatic taste, he floats on a cloud, drowning in bliss and yearning as the rest of the bar fades into white noise. 

Unfortunately, Mark tugs his lips from yours first, gulping in the stale air while his eyes, shaky with pent-up lust, find yours, surprised to discover them in a similar state as his. 

"I never got your name." You chuckle, your head falling to his chest, your finger running over the fabric above his heart. Finally, you whisper your name, and his eyes close in bliss, the echo of your words turning his heart into mush. Yeah, Mark could get used to this.

[vague-shadows]

Something I Need

So this is my first attempt to participate in a Whumptober. I'd been debating whether to bother since the last few weeks have been crazy, and I'm behind in drafting and posting. I may not catch up before the month ends, but excited to work through the prompts as much as I can.

Prompt No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” | Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

I was thinking on the prompt when "Something I Need" by OneRepublic played on my shuffling playlist, and thus we arrive at this fic. Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

Edward hears the key turn in the lock and rises with a sleepy smile to go and greet Roy.  As he gets to his feet, the world seems to lurch sideways, and he stumbles a bit, catching himself on the arm of the sofa.  He worries that he’s sloshed whiskey all over the floor but then realizes the glass tumbler in his hand is empty. Again. Whoops.

Edward hadn’t intended to get quite this drunk.  

“Ed?” Roy calls as he removes his coat and gloves at the door.  “You home?”

Ed leans heavily against the doorframe as he looks out into the hall. 

“‘Course,” he replies with a wry smile, “where else would I be?” 

He moves toward Roy, placing a hand on Roy’s chest and moving in for a lingering kiss that’s probably a little sloppy but he doubts Roy minds. Roy pulls back from the kiss, looking down at Ed as he wraps an arm around his waist. 

“I thought you might still be at the university," wasn’t the programming for the symposium scheduled to last through dinner and a reception after? I thought you’d - ”

“Left early,” Ed interjects, “fuckin’ press was circling like a bunch’f vultures. Felt like a fuckin’ bug under a microscope.”

Roy sighs, letting his head lean forward to rest on Edward's shoulder.  “I'm sorry. I know you hate it."

"'s not your fault."

"They only seem to get worse with the elections coming up.”

“Yep,” Ed agrees with an exaggerated pop of the ‘p.’  “And hell if I’m gonna do something stupid or embarrassing that fucks up this campaign for you.”

"Edward, you shouldn't have to be holed up in here being miserable. Maybe you should get out of town for a while? Take a vacation? I know you already hated being stuck in one place for so long - now you can’t even go out - I…worry,” he says with a look past Ed toward the sidebar where the nearly empty bottle of whiskey sits. 

“You’re just worried I’m gonna be able to out-drink you at the inauguration ball,” Ed teases, hoping to deflect. “Besides, you’re missing out by not enjoying all that great whiskey you hoard - this bottle is great .  Have some with me,” he says, pulling Roy by the arm as he heads back for the bottle. 

“I don’t hoard whiskey. I’m curating a collection to age and - ”

Edward isn’t deterred by Roy’s oft-repeated defense of his extensive alcohol inventory.  He tunes it out in favor of focusing on pouring the remaining amber liquid into two tumblers and offering one to Roy. 

“C’mon. Cheers,” Edward says as Roy takes the offered glass. 

“Cheers,” he replies, clicking his glass lightly against Edward’s and taking a measured sip while Edward indulges in a gulp that drains half his portion. “Edward, are you sure you’re okay? I know the stress of this election is - ”

“I’m fine , Bastard,” he interjects, “just focusing on enjoying now instead of hoarding for later. Nothing wrong with cutting loose a little bit, is there?” he reasons. “Ya only die once, right?” he adds with a grin, taking another deep drink.  

“I think the phrase is ‘you only live once,’ Edward,” Roy says, frowning, the adorable little crease in his forehead that indicates he’s thinking too hard about something appears.  

“Same difference,” Edward says with a shrug.  “Live once - die once - however you phrase it - I wanna die with you, Fuhrer Bastard.”

“Edward - ”

“Whole damn world full of people out there, but you’re the one I never could shake.”

“Ed, I think there’s something bigger we need to talk about here.”

“Nah, nothin’ to talk about,” Ed dismisses, tossing back the last of his drink.  “I tried a million times to understand the reasoning - but there’s no logic - just something about you…” 

He reaches to card his fingers through Roy’s hair.  Edward thought he was explaining that the political hellscape he signed up for is something that is worth dealing with if that’s what it takes to be with Roy. Except Roy just looks wrecked, and Edward isn’t quite sure why...but Ed must’ve fucked up what he was trying to say...but his coherency is fading fast, so he can’t fix it right now.  

“Just come to bed with me?” Ed asks - hoping maybe he hasn’t fucked anything up so badly that Roy plans to sleep in the guest room rather than with his sloppy sad-drunk fiance. “Please?” 

He hasn’t told Roy, but the nightmares that all-too-often plague his dreams have taken on a new theme these past few weeks.  Almost every night, Roy gets assassinated in Ed’s nightmares - snipers, rogue alchemists, poison, bombs - it seems his mind has an ample supply of ammunition to ensure all the worst-case scenarios play out in gruesome detail.  The only thing keeping Ed sane is the ability to wake up and see that Roy is safely asleep in bed beside him.  

Just a few more months until the election… he reminds himself as if it’s a comfort.

But a voice that sounds too much like Truth always intrudes with the counter-thought: maybe just a few more months until the election, but what then, little alchemist? You’ll still be as much an intruder in the political world as you were in mine. Won’t you ever learn better than to tread where you don’t belong?

[blookmallow]

y’all i am so sorry i failed you

i just found this buried a year into my drafts and realized. i never posted my animatronics ratings for last year’s spirit halloween releases. i started it and i never finished it. it’s now closing in on halloween season again and i still haven’t done it. im ashamed. i am so sorry  

ANYWAY, here’s, uh, my. 9 month late 2022 spirit halloween opinions, happy summerween i guess 

Mr. Punchy 

NEW CLOWN NEW CLOWN fuck yes i love a new clown

also for some reason the first sentence of his description made me lose it 

BIG fan of this just from a visual standpoint, i love the colors, love the hair. i like the light-up face on this one a lot, most spirit clowns ive seen fall into either “Clown Who Is A Monster/Creature” (crouchy, hugz) or “Clown Who Is A Scary Guy” (wally, henry hussle) but this one feels very “evil fun house prop” which i really think works for it. im assuming he’s based on punching-bag clowns, which i haven’t seen them do before, but the fact that his body is a Ball also gives me the mental image of him violently bouncing toward you which is good as well. theres a certain manic energy about this guy that im really fond of. i like him i would like to see him 7/10 

Spike

standard zombie torso figure, though it does have some interesting implications given that Stab The Brain is the generally agreed upon best way to deal with zombies, but this guy seems to be doing just fine despite the giant stake in his head. the website description says he got it from his wife attempting to mercy kill him once he turned zombie but she failed so he’s just stuck like this now. it does not explain why stake to the brain didn’t work, though (the implication is that she missed or something but clearly she didn’t. ive never heard of zombie brains having a very specific precise spot you have to hit to kill them, this looks like it should’ve worked to me) 

something about the bLurghHGhRUrrh noises he makes and the little nicely buttoned flannel shirt with jagged obviously-cut-out-intentionally tears at the bottom is very funny to me. i like to think his wife has accepted the situation and he just lives on the porch scaring away birds and stuff now. 5 /10 hes not really anything special but he brings me joy 

Rat Girl

it’s... fine. she’s a Creepy Little Girl. she’s got a rat. it’s not particularly inspired but I don’t dislike it. she doesn’t really do anything but i like the eye movement. 5/10 

Lil Skelly Bones

this is a variation of another animatronic they had previously, same lil guy but now he’s a jumpscare figure instead of a swinging one. not really a fan of stuff that’s Just “jumps out at you” and thats all but he’s pretty cute. love how Small he is. whats even going on here, is he a skeleton dressed as a skeleton?? i don’t know. it’s very cute. 5/10 

Tombstone Terror

on a surface level this is just a tombstone with a skull that pops out and yells at you. it looks nice, it’s designed well, but it’s about as basic as it gets as far as the concept goes. the description for this one really makes it though, because evidently this skeleton’s name is Steve and he used to be the graveyard caretaker who loved his job so much he stuck around after death to continue protecting the graveyard

his name is steve and he loves this graveyard so much. 6/10 its very uncreative as a prop but it gets a bonus point for steve 

The Widow 

this one looks really familiar i feel like they had a very similar one previously? i dont know. anyway she’s very scary looking and the Neck Snap motion is really unsettling to see. one of those rare animatronics that i actually do feel a lil creeped out by and wouldn’t be eager to approach. her description says her husband cheated on her so she murdered him (and her sister, who he was cheating with) but then broke her neck in the process of trying to dump the bodies in a lake, so here we are. 7/10 i dont love it but i feel like it’s pretty effective and my first reaction to watching the video of it was “eugh. i dont want to see THAT again” so props for that 

Betty Sharpe 

lots of blood on this one, very nice, 

apparently she’s some kind of child beauty pageant contestant who murdered all the other girls

i really like the movement in the bag, something about the relatively slow motion and the size of the bag gives it a sense of “what the fuck does she have in there” since it doesn’t seem fast enough or big enough to be a person. gives the impression of a mutilated but somehow still barely alive person shoved in there, which is excellent. her design doesn’t read very clearly though, it looks like she’s wearing some kind of nightgown. i feel like they could’ve done more to make her look like a deranged diva, give her a tiara or something. the face looks really plasticky also. overall i think its a decent concept that could’ve been executed better. 6/10

Young Crouchy

H U H???!?????

this... sure is a choice. i do not understand the decision-making here at all. i like crouchy well enough but did ANYONE want this. it doesn’t even read as “young crouchy” at all, he doesn’t look Younger in any sense and it sounds like the same recording so his voice isn’t different either. it just looks like Slightly Shrunk crouchy. the fact that the original crouchy is so tall and imposing is really what makes him so effective, so this one just looks comical 

the description goes into his tragic childhood where i guess he’s... disabled? which is why he stands like that? 

The pain of growing up orphaned in the streets can only be masked by laughter, at least according to this broken child. With no friends, no family, and nowhere to turn, he had a stroke of luck when the circus came to town. He never intended to scare anyone, but with his broken posture and twisted frame, he was quickly adopted into the traveling circus and immediately found his calling. No amount of makeup could ever hide his sinister grin and sharp, dagger-like teeth, so he finally embraced his true identity as Crouchy and worked to become the show’s most terrifying act!

for one thing that doesn’t come across as a child even remotely at all, and while crouchy always had the “he just wanted to be a regular clown but he was too scary and everyone was afraid of him so he just decided to embrace it” backstory, i feel like this just makes it come across super ableist. “clown who is just really terrifying no matter how he tries” is kind of a funny concept but now they’re saying “his posture and body structure are Weird and Scary so no one liked him and all he’s good for is being Scary” just. feels real bad. and “he’s called crouchy because he has a physical disability that affects his posture” comes across way worse than “he’s called crouchy because we’re not creative and this is the pose he’s in. i mean because its a personal quirk of his” 

then they also follow up this description with “Every good evil villain has to have a tragic origin story!” which just feels SO forced, it makes me feel gross, this whole thing is stupid, i dont like any of it,

i feel like if they had leaned into “this is very silly” more and made this guy be like, Crouchy Jr, His Son, or his mini clone or something and made his voice higher it might’ve worked. a few people in the youtube comments pointed out that this prop could be beneficial as like, a Smaller/More Affordable crouchy if you don’t have the money or the space for the full size one, which is fair, but i don’t know. i just dont like this whole situation i really don’t 

3/10 try harder next time, spirit 

Strawman

spooky scarecrow man!!! i really hope I get a chance to see him in-store sometime hes lovely. love a creepy scarecrow

the design is good, his face design is pretty cool, it looks better in motion his mouth movements are pretty solid

he has a good range of motion in his head and the jerky/stiff movement in his arms works for the character really well whether it was intentional or not. hes interesting to watch. i like him. i think he’d be a great host/introductory figure at the beginning of a haunt or front of your yard or something to greet guests coming in. hes good i like him 7/10

theres also a new Reagan from the exorcist, but i havent. actually seen that movie yet sdfsdf so i dont really have anything to say about the animatronic other than “it looks fine to me” 

Possessed Pumpkin 

i feel like pumpkin man and creepy scarecrow are friends. they go well together. cursed pumpkin patch is a good concept i like it 

anyway we have this guy at my local store right now, he’s pretty Big and solid looking, its a pretty decent design, i like his big claw hands

his backstory kind of clashes with the design concept though, apparently he was... a kid in a homemade halloween costume who got bullied for his costume and then the other kids locked him in a barn at a haunted pumpkin patch so his body got taken over by evil spirits. which is a hell of a story that then makes No sense with the visual, because that is Not a child. nothing about this even remotely reads as “possessed child” at all. so then it comes across as “he grew up into an adult man in this pumpkin patch and just never fucking moved on from that one time he got bullied on halloween as a child” which just makes him kind of sad. pretty good design, poor backstory, 7/10 

anyway sorry if i missed anybody it took me so long to remember this was in here the new arrivals page on spirit’s site is now for this year so i cant tell which ones were new last year anymore :’    ) fjsdg

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Happy Saturday Alyssa!

How are doing?? I hope you're having a good weekend and getting to enjoy some nice weather!

For your word game: latch and spark!

P.S. I've been wearing your bat earrings all month and they get tons of compliments 🦇🎃

Alex!!! I'm sorry this got stuck in my drafts!!!! It is now fricking Monday night and you sent this two days ago and I am sorry!!

The weather has actually been pretty enjoyable, and the trees around here are RIGHT in the middle of their peak color change so its very pretty. Fall is my favorite <3 I hope its not too chilly yet where you are and that you're enjoying spooky season! And! It makes me smile to hear that about the earrings! I wore my bats today, too!! :)

Thank you for sending these!!

latch : from an untitled kinktober prompt

You cried out as you felt his lips and then teeth latch on to the swell of your chest, tongue sweeping over your soft skin to dampen it. His beard tickled as he tilted his head to change his angle, and you hummed through a love drunk grin.  I… that feels - Without warning, he sucked, biting down a little harder. Oh, fuck, he…  Your grip in his curls tightened and you felt him groan in response, the sound sending a low rumble through your body. But it was his next move that made you see stars behind your clamped eyelids. Slowly, mouth still lavishing your left breast with attention, he twisted his right wrist just enough so that he could add his thumb to what he was doing, moving it in slow, tantalizing circles.  “Ezra… I-”

spark : from an untitled kinktober prompt

“You look incredible tonight.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, and before you could respond, he lightly squeezed your leg, fingers tightening just above your knee before spreading out over the thin barrier between his flesh and yours. “These things are drivin’ me crazy, though.” You looked over at him then, and when your eyes met his, their depths darkened by his words, he continued. “Can’t wait to get them off you.” 

The room around you broke out in good-natured laughter at something that Missy said in her toast, but you had no idea what it was because at that exact moment, Frankie’s hand slid higher up your leg - high enough for him to realize that it wasn’t a pair of tights that you were wearing. They were a pair of thigh high stockings. And that means… “You can take them off, Frankie.” You sucked in a breath as his thumbnail lightly scraped over the lacy top and onto your skin before sliding beneath the elastic, your heart hammering. “But you don’t have to.” 

The spark that lit his eyes then was pure desire, and even though you were having a great time celebrating the new Mr. and Mrs. Miller, you couldn’t wait to get back to your hotel room so you could let that spark consume you.

[rainebelowzero]

I posted this on accident yesterday 😒

Sorry I haven't been that active, I just got a new job so I've been coming home and going straight to sleep, but I'm almost done with two of the last four requests in my inbox (which btw I'm so so sorry it's taking so long) so they should be posted soon

notes: This isn't nsfw, sorry 💔 but I really wanted to post something for Kurt's birthday and this has been sitting in my drafts for like two months so I figured I might as well post something

cws: none really?? there are references to sex, but nothing actually happens, Kurt does dumb stuff for views 😎

“I'm back, Kurt!” You shout as you shut and lock the door to your apartment behind you. You don't get a response, which is unusual for someone like Kurt, who's usually constantly up your ass. Sounds of shuffling and grunting come from you and Kurt's bedroom, and you look in that direction with confusion before rolling your eyes.

He's probably jerking off again, who's surprised? You think, laying your jacket on the back of a chair. You walk over to the room, expecting to see him hunched over in his chair, but instead, you see him on the bed, tangled in the bed sheets and some kind of rope. His shirt was riding up a little bit, and you had to admit you did kind of just want to have your hands all over him.

One of his hands was tied at the wrist to the headboard, and the other at the elbow, his arm just sort of hanging down. It was really sloppily tied, but he was somehow still stuck. He somehow doesn't notice you, too focused on trying to get untied as you stand in the doorway, watching him struggle and being unable to hold back a laugh.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him, amused. His eyes widened, even bigger than his puppy like eyes usually are. You can hear the gears turning in his head, trying to make up an excuse that wouldn't sound weird, but there was really no way he could think of anything.

“Uhh…I'm..I-I was just..waiting for you.” He says, clearly lying. You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh because you don't want to make him feel bad.

“Really? Is that why you're recording?”

Kurt's eyes darted to his phone, sitting propped up on the desk, facing him. He sighs, looking down.

“Fine, it was for a video. I know y- like, you told me to stop doing dumb stuff, but I- I thought it would get views.”

That left you more confused. “What- okay, you know what? I'm not gonna question whatever weird shit you look at on the internet, do you want help?” You ask, and getting a nod from Kurt, you walk over to the side of the bed and start pulling on the knots. He just stares up at you while you untie him like you're a god, just completely in awe of how hot you are to him.

“There you go.” You say. He doesn't say anything, just keeps staring at you as he sits up. “Uhhh. What?”

You look down and immediately realize what's happening as he tries to pull the bottom of his shirt down over his lap. He looks at you, silently begging. With a sigh, you put your hands on your hips.

"...fine, take your pants off." You say, and Kurt is very happy to oblige.

[beels-burger-babe]

Double Vision

*This is completely self-indulgent as I officially have to wear glasses now and got my first pair today, but I figured to give you guys some content in between me being stuck on the two stupid drafts that I'm writing, I'd give you this I guess this is a series of shorts?? Either way, enjoy! -B*

Summary: It's the night before the first major test of the RAD school year, and MC has been holed up in their room all day. The brothers are concerned and go to check in on them, but they notice something different - MC is wearing glasses

CW: Asmo being Asmo. His bit is a little suggestive at times

LUCIFER

Although he'll never admit it, Lucifer was really concerned when you had disappeared for the entire day.

He was so used to hearing you laughing amongst his brothers, or pestering him in his office, or even just lounging in the living room that your absence had left him feeling like something was wrong.

Using the excuse of bringing you food to prevent you from starving, he comes to your room and knocks once before entering.

"MC, I know your studying, but do try not to forget that you...need..."

He's cut off mid-snark as he saw you staring back at him behind a pair of framed lenses.

His heart stuttered in his chest and Lucifer Morningstar is left speechless.

Your hair was a mess from the countless times you had run your hands through it. There were bags of exhaustion under your eyes, and there was a hand-shaped mark on your face from where you had been leaning into your palm.

But with those glasses, you looked studious and sharp.

If the eye-wear added this much to your beauty when you were clearly sleep-deprived as you were, he couldn't help but imagine how you might look dressed up in business wear with them.

"Lucifer?"

He snapped his head up, as you caught his focus one more, and noticed, with a frown, how you had removed your glasses.

"Did you come here for something?"

Lucifer walked over to your desk and set down the plate in front of you. "I was ensuring that you actually ate some food between all the reading you're doing." He picked up your glasses and casually inspected them (although mentally he was taking note of the style so that he could buy you more). "I was unaware that you wear glasses, MC."

You rolled your eyes and took a bite from the food in front of you. "That's because I don't need to wear them all the time. Just when I'm doing activities that can strain my eyes."

Lucifer hummed and looked closely at you. You rose an eyebrow at the demon, questioning his odd behaviour. Before you could say anything, he leaned forward and gently slid the frames onto your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up as his eyes remained locked on yours, and a sly smile graced his lips. "You should wear them more often," he whispered softly. "You look lovely in them."

MAMMON

Mammon sighed heavily as he sat upside down on his bed.

He was bored. You had locked yourself up in your room all day for that stupid test and had kicked him out since apparently he was "distracting" and "prevented you from getting any work down."

Well, fuck that! He wanted to spend time with you, damn it!

Mammon marched down the hall and banged on the door once before throwing open the door. "Yo human! Studyin' time is over! It's Mammon ti-...time..."

He trailed off for a moment as he noticed you glaring heatedly at him. However, it wasn't the glare that made him surprised. No. It was the fact that the glare was being filtered through a pair of glasses that he had never seen before on your face.

"When the fuck did you start wearin' glasses?!" He screeched and marched over to you, grabbing your cheeks to pull you closer and get a better look.

You let out a noise of frustration and swatted his hands away. "Mammon quit it! I'm trying to study!"

Surprisingly, he pulled back his hands, but he remained barely an inch away from you. "I didn't ask if you were studyin'! I asked about the glasses!"

You felt yourself blush and pulled your face away. "I've always had glasses. I just don't always wear them. That's all. Wh-Why does it matter?"

Mammon opened his mouth to give a retort, before snapping his jaw back shut. His face grew rapidly warm as he scratched the back of his neck. "I-I was just wonderin'! You've been down here for what? 3 months now? And I ain't ever seen you wear them."

You averted your eyes from the clearly flustered demon and nervously played with your hands. "Yeah, well, I didn't really want any of you to see me in them. I look pretty silly and-"

"What the fuck are you talkin' about? You're adorable!!" Mammon shouted before slapping a hand over his blushing face. The two of you stared at each other with wide eyes full of shock. "I-I mean, glasses are cool, ya know? I wear glasses all the time! And if the Great Mammon knows anythin', it's style! So, of course, you look cute- I mean good- I mean gorgeous- I-I mean GAH!" Mammon turned around and stormed out of the room.

A couple days later, you found a pair of tinted glasses, identical to the ones Mammon wears, in your prescription sitting by your door.

LEVIATHAN

Levi groaned as he looked at the books in front of him.

He wasn't the most studious of his brothers, and this test was draining the life out of him. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and watch anime, but because of this stupid test you were both holed up in your respective rooms studying.

Leviathan let out a huff as he laid his head on his desk and glanced over at his manga collection. His gaze paused on the side of a particular school manga with the two main characters studying on the cover.

Levi shot out of his seat in realization, "I can just go study with them!!!"

Levi quickly gathered all his textbooks and went straight to your room. He knocked on the door and nervously waited for you to answer.

As the door swung open, Levi's jaw dropped and his books went scattering across the floor.

Glasses. You were wearing glasses. Glasses that made your eyes look slightly bigger and just overall made you so freaking cute. Oh goodness. He didn't know that you could pull off the cool, studious type so well. You were just so cute!

"Oh shoot, Levi! Your books!" You bent down and quickly began to gather them for him. It was just like a scene from an anime!

"S-So kawaii," the otaku muttered, as he tried to hide his red face behind his arm.

The reddening got worse as you looked up at him and tilted your head. "What was that, Levi?"

He frantically waved his hands took his books back from you, "N-NOTHING! Just, um, I-I was wondering if we could study together? I'm not having much luck on my own, a-a-and you look smart, especially with your new glasses, which look amazing, and I-I thought maybe..."

You smiled softly at the otaku's mumbling and grabbed his hand. "Of course, Levi! I'd love to study with you!"

As you pulled him into your room to sit at your desk, Levi blushed and followed behind you, mentally thinking of the number of glasses-wearing cosplays he could get you to try.

SATAN

Satan took a sip of his tea as you sat down at the library table beside him.

Test season had always been a favourite of his for a number of reasons, but this year, those reasons could all be narrowed down to one big one: he got to spend more time alone with you.

It made him more grateful than ever that his brothers were morons and that he was the only dependable demon in the house that you could study with.

He had constructed an easy-to-follow study guide for the two of you that would guarantee both your success for this test. You'd get good grades and avoid Lucifer's wrath, and he'd get to spend time with you. It was a win-win.

He flipped through a textbook to find the subject of the test. "Alright. We should get started if we're going to stick to the plan. Now, how comfortable are you with..." he stopped short as he looked up and saw you staring at him with a pair of glasses on your face.

He blinked.

He had never seen you were glasses before. He couldn't help but think that now that he had, he never wanted to see you without them again. You look so stunning and elegant with them on. He absolutely loved it.

Of course, he couldn't just tell you that though.

Instead, Satan tilted his head and smirked. "You are aware that just because you're wearing glasses, it won't make you any smarter?"

You gasped in mock offence and lightly hit his arm as Satan laughed. "I'll have you know these are prescribed! I have to wear them when I'm doing any strenuous activities."

Satan flashed a roguish smile and went back to flipping through his book. "Pity. I'd rather like to see you wear them more often. You look wonderful," before you even got the chance to respond or acknowledge the light blush on his cheeks, Satan cleared his throat. "Now, on page 364, you'll see..."

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus hummed to himself as he walked towards your room with a basket full of facemasks and nail polish in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

You had been tucked away in your little room all day studying, and he just knew that you needed a break. That's where he came in of course, offering you all the love and self-care you could ever desire.

Asmodeus joyfully knocked on your door before slipping inside. "MC dear, I've come to free you from your..." he inhaled sharply at the sight before him.

You were laying on your stomach, kicking your legs behind you as you read whatever book you were studying from, dressed in an adorably oversized sweatshirt. That alone would've been enough to make him squeal.

But you were also wearing glasses.

Asmo shrieked as he jumped onto the bed with you and tackled you.

You let out a yelp as the two of you tumbled to the floor. "Wha- Asmo! Get off!"

Asmodeus giggled and sat up beside you. "Sorry, darling! I couldn't help it! You look so cute with your little glasses. AH! It's delightful," his eyes sparkled with intrigue and pleasure. "Sexy even," he purred as he leaned in close.

You chuckled and pushed Asmodeus away as you stood up. "I'm just studying. The glasses are so I can read without getting a headache."

The demon hummed as he walked back over to the door to regather his supplies. "Well, have you ever considered buying some for accessories? I have a pair or two that would look gorgeous on you. It'd be a shame if the only person who ever got to see how scrumptious you look with glasses was your books," he smirked knowingly as he turned around and saw you flustered.

Asmo grinned and held the basket and wine bottle. "Now enough with the studying. It's time for a break. So sit back and relax, and let me take care of you."

You raised an eyebrow at him, and damn that glare was more effective from behind a pair of lenses. "Asmo," you warned, causing the demon to shiver.

Asmo pouted and gestured to the basket. "Self-care of course. Gee, MC, why must you think such filthy things."

BEELZEBUB

Beel made his way towards your room with his arms full of snacks.

He was proud of you for taking your test so seriously and really putting in the work to do your best, but he was also worried. He had barely seen you come out of your room even once today, and that meant that you probably hadn't eaten enough.

Seeing as you were always carrying around snacks for him, he figured it was time that he returned the favour.

He frowned as he got to your door and realized that he had no hands to knock with. He tried rearranging the food in his arms but nearly dropped the entire load. Beel huffed and stared at the door for a couple seconds before leaning forward and butting it with his head several times.

He heard a groan and some shuffling on the other side before the door opened.

His eyes widened as you stood before him, yawning as you rubbed your eyes underneath your glasses - yes, glasses.

You were always small in comparison to Beel, but now with the glasses, there was something about it that made you look even more delicate.

"Cute," Beel said as he looked down at you.

Your face instantly flushed as you blinked up at him. "H-Huh?"

Beel smiled softly and felt his fingers twitch with the urge to ruffle your hair. "Your glasses. They look very cute," he explained honestly.

You squeaked and quickly took them off, too embarrassed by Beel's forward compliment. "Th-Thanks Beel. They're um, they're just for studying."

The urge to ruffle your hair, or pat your shoulder, or even simply touch you grew stronger, but Beel's hands were still full. So, much like with the door, Beelzebub thought of an alternative.

He leaned down and gently kissed the top of your head. His warm gaze met yours as he gently whispered, "You always look pretty, but with them on, you look even prettier," and then, as though he hadn't just stolen your heart, he grinned and held out the food. "I brought snacks."

BELPHEGOR

Belphie had been wandering around the house late at night in yet another round of restlessness.

He had just walked past your door when he noticed your bedroom light was still on. Belphegor tsked and began making his way over. It was bad enough that he wasn't getting any sleep. He didn't need you picking up on his awful sleep habits just because of some boring test.

Without bothering to knock, Belphie opened your bedroom door. He opened his mouth to tease you but found his words catching in his throat.

You weren't awake after all.

You were passed out on your desk, face smooshed up against an open book with a pair of glasses sitting uncomfortably askew on your nose.

Belphie felt his cold heart melt at the sight.

He let out a deep chuckle and walked over to you. He carefully removed the glasses from your face and snorted at the red lines that had been left in their wake. He pressed gentle kisses to the marks before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you over to your bed.

"Silly MC," he whispered as he draped your blankets over you. "Everyone knows that you're not supposed to sleep with glasses on," he smiled tenderly at your sleeping form as he brushed a few hairs from your forehead. "No matter how cute they may make you."

*And that's that! I hope you enjoyed this cute little thing I just threw together! Sorry I haven't been able to write as much lately. School and work have just been insane and I honestly don't think the workload is gonna get any lighter. Thank you for your patience and your support!*

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @victoirey @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino @rulaien @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10

[jkstompers]

noise complaints | myg

pairing: min yoongi x female reader

summary: yoongi is tired of his loud, video game addicted roommate, so he decides to move out and get his own apartment for some peace and quiet. but with his luck, gets you as his neighbor: a girl who plays bass in a band and hates the feeling of earbuds in her ears.

word count: 5.8k

genre: neighbor!au, producer yoongi, bassist oc, pwp ( ；∀；) i tried but rlly it’s just... smut

warnings: mature!! (18+!), explicit language, smut, making out, fingering, dom!yoongi, he’s a little mean

author’s note: hi!!!!!! in honor of yoongi’s birthday, i wanted to post this fic that i had sitting in my drafts! i hope u enjoy!! (´⌣`ʃƪ) pls let me know what u think!

banner pic creds here <3

yoongi doesn’t know how to tell his roomate, mark, that his gaming obsession has driven him to take extreme measures that consist of: moving out. he never stops playing video games. all day, all night, his eyes are fixed on the computer or tv screen, always screaming to his team mates about where to go or who’s fucking up. yoongi’s not sure if he can take it anymore.

he’s finally saved up enough to move into an apartment of his own, he’s been planning this for almost 6 months; already visited the apartment complex, discussed prices, background checks, etc. all yoongi really needs to do is finish signing the papers and start moving in.

he decides to just let mark know, no sugarcoat. as yoongi expected, mark practically begs on his knees for him to stay. his parents are paying for his share of the apartment but only if he splits the cost with a roommate, but yoongi’s gone through two years of it already, he’s over it. over the next few days, mark watches yoongi dejectedly as he packs his things.

by the end of the week, yoongi has finished packing and already signed the lease. he tells mark ‘good luck’ and leaves him in the dust, hopefully he’ll find another roommate, but that’s beyond yoongi’s concern now. all he has to worry about now is unpacking his boxes in his brand new apartment.

he looks around at the empty space, with the boxes cornered in one section. he smiles to himself, no noisy roomates, no unwashed dishes, no dirty laundry, ah, finally. peace and qui—

and that’s when he hears the blare of your speakers, it’s not loud enough for the entire complex to hear, but the music obviously bleeds through the shared wall. yoongi groans, knowing that this could be a complete repeat of mark. he’s not sure if he should knock on your door and ask you to lower the music down, it’s only his first day here. don’t you treat your neighbors with respect? why are you so loud?

yoongi decides to ignore it for now. he unpacks his things and starts furnishing the room so he can have a place to sleep for the night. when everything is put together, he feels the weight of the day; how much he’s been lifting and how he’s now renting an apartment hits him all at once. the dull pain resonates in his arms, his head starting to ache, and you’re still playing your fucking music. he can’t take it anymore, especially not with this ache getting worse.

yoongi feels his fist knock angrily against your door three times, he waits for you to open the door. except, he was not expecting a pretty girl to answer, he was expecting maybe an obnoxious frat guy; he’s absolutely flustered. you stand there and look up at him confused, “hi? did you need something?” your voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“i’m— uh, i’m your neighbor, i’m sorry to disrupt, but if you could just lower your music down a bit, i’m really tired, and—” he starts but a gasp of excitement leaves you, cutting him off.

“my neighbor?! that apartment has been empty for so long! i’m so sorry, i was just so used to no one being able to hear! welcome! i’m ___!” you greet him cheerfully, taking his hands into yours and shaking them. yoongi feels his cheeks turn pink, your hands are soft and you’re so pretty.

“my name is yoongi,” he replies, he stands there not really knowing how to respond to the way you’re so excited. he wishes he could reciprocate but his head is pounding, all he wants to do is sleep.

you pick up on his energy, letting go of his hands to wave him off, “i’ll turn the music off for today, get some rest, yoongi, if you need help, some sugar or something, you can always just knock on my door,” you smile.

yoongi nods, “thank you, ___, goodnight.”

“goodnight, yoongi! nice meeting you,” you reply, closing your door. you blush behind the door, a neighbor? a cute one at that? there’s a sudden rush of adrenaline pulsing through your veins, testing you, telling you to blast your music just so he could come back and you could look at him one more time. but you decide it’s better not to, he said he was tired, maybe tomorrow.

yoongi returns to his apartment, thankful that you kept to your word and kept the music off. his body drifts his pounding head to sleep.

two weeks had gone by before yoongi’s eyes, he spent most of it buying furniture since the apartment looked so bare. one upside to a loft apartment was that he didn’t have to buy too much furniture, a bed, a couch, a tv, and maybe a rug was enough for him, for now of course.

in the time that’s passed, he’s learned that you like playing music when you’re studying, cleaning, when you’re doing anything really. whenever he thinks it’s too loud, he knocks through the wall, you get the hint most of the time. he’s also learned that you can play the bass and that you’re in a band. speaking of that, you’re having a meeting with them right now, and yoongi can hear every word of it.

your band mates decided to barge into your apartment today, waking you from your study nap and telling you that you all need to practice. the volume of their voices is jarring, you never realized how loud you and your surroundings were until yoongi moved in. you’re suddenly conscious about your volume at all times, his knocks whenever you were loud always made you feel terrible, but you couldn’t help but blush whenever you thought of him. you were torn, be loud and get his attention or be quiet and get on his good side.

“___! grab your shit and let’s go!” jungkook shouts. he’s the guitarist and lead singer of the band; he gets impatient sometimes.

“oh just let her daydream for a little bit, she’s probably thinking about her hot neighbor,” seulgi teases. she’s the drummer and your best friend. you don’t let her comment pass so easily, but you try to ignore the way your face heats up.

“you think he’s hot?” you quip back. a smirk on your face as you zip your bass into it’s case. yoongi is surprised at the way he can hear your voices so clearly, he wonders if you guys always talk this loud or if the walls are really that thin. “you haven’t even seen him yet,” you lug your bag over your shoulder.

“he sounds hot.” she shrugs, taking a bite of the apple she stole from your fruit basket. jungkook grows more and more antsy the longer you both talk.

“where’s taehyung anyway?” you ask. the realization comes to you when you feel a missing presence, knowing your 4th member would say something about yoongi.

“how nice of you to finally ask, he’s been waiting in the car for you slow pokes, let’s get going.” jungkook rushes, pushing you and seulgi out of the door. you turn to lock the door when you hear the door to your left slide open.

“oh my god, jungkook look, he’s hot.” seulgi smacks jungkook’s shoulder to make him look. your eyes are glued on the figure standing outside of apartment 77.

“hi— hey, yoongi,” you greet him while locking your door. it’s embarrassing the way the three of you are all almost drooling at the sight of him.

“hi, ___,” he sends a small smile to you, looking over to your bandmates hesitantly. yoongi notices jungkook, an assumption is made in his head almost immediately, boyfriend?

you scramble next to them and introduce them, “yoongi, these are my bandmates, seulgi, she plays the drums, and jungkook, he plays guitar and sings, there’s taehyung too, he plays guitar too but he— he’s um, in the car.”

“ah, nice to meet you.” he nods, greeting them as well. “i actually have to get to work, but it was cool meeting you all,” he excuses himself. you all wave to him.

“way to be fucking awkward guys,” you scold them when you’re all walking to the car. taehyung looks up from his phone to see the three of you walking his way, he starts the car once you open the door.

“hey, not our fault he’s good looking,” jungkook shrugs and seulgi holds her hand up for a high five, which he gladly gives her.

“not fair! you guys got to see ___’s hot neighbor while i was stuck in the car? i knew i should have just came in,” taehyung grumbles, pulling out of the apartment complex’s parking lot.

“it just so happened that he was leaving his apartment the same time we were, maybe you’ll meet him too tae,” you rub his arm. a somewhat sarcastic tone in your voice. taehyung rolls his eyes, starting the drive to the studio.

the music in the car was overshadowed by taehyung and seulgi arguing about when you and yoongi would finally hook up. you had to remind them that he hasn’t even been here a month yet, and that you guys barely talk besides the small hellos and awkward run ins when you’re doing laundry. it seems to keep them quiet, taehyung parks in the lot and you all move into the studio, making your way to the practice room the owners thankfully let you use to rehearse.

a couple songs are played and you all vote for a break. taehyung and jungkook having a guitar battle, seulgi leaning back against the wall on her phone, and you, need to pee! you leave the room and use the bathroom as usual, but a familiar bleach blonde head turns the corner and starts to walk down the hallway towards you, the breath you’re holding turns into a gasp when you realize it’s him. “yoongi?! why are you here?”

he looks up from the ground, looking as surprised as you when he realizes you were talking to him, “i work here, why are you here? are you following me?” he grills, you scoff at the question.

“i’m with my band, we’re rehearsing,” you explain. he raises his eyebrows, you’re not sure what it means. “you don’t believe me?” you pose.

“it’s just a little suspicious,” he shrugs, yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing. he hopes his hint makes sense to you, he’s never really been good at flirting. a familiar feeling erupts in his stomach, one that people could call butterflies whenever he saw you. he really just wants to see you play, and to hear you sing, that’s what he wants the most.

“uh, i can bring you to them? i promise i’m here with my band,” you laugh, warmth spreading to your cheeks. there is no way in hell that you’re going to play in front of yoongi. you were confident sure, but your embarrassing crush on him will make your fingers shake when you try to press the strings down. it’ll be a shitshow!

“can i pee first?” his small laugh brings a smile to your face. boys pee fast, you’ve learned that over time, so yoongi doesn’t take long. you’re both walking back down the hallway, “your boyfriend isn’t angry that you’re with me?” the random question makes your steps stutter.

“i’m sorry, what? boyfriend?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare up at him, his face isn’t showing any sign of humor, he’s serious.

“you’re not dating one of your band mates? isn’t that how it usually goes?” his lips purse as you continue to walk to the room that your band is occupying, he’s so serious that it makes you laugh.

“oh my god, yoongi, i’m single as a pringle, they’re my best friends, our number one rule is to never date within the band, that’s how things get messy,” you explain. a weight is taken off of yoongi’s shoulders, it wasn’t his fault he thought of it; you’re beautiful and surrounded by people that probably want you as much as he does.

“oh,” he answers, you both turn the corner and approach the door, “good to know.” the door opens to your three members looking at the two of you with raised eyebrows.

“oh my god, it’s him,” seulgi points to yoongi with her drumstick. you wave your hand to signal her to put it down, ‘it’s rude!’ you mouth.

“are you yoongi?” taehyung asks, taking his guitar and putting it down on it’s stand. yoongi nods, holding his hand out to shake taehyung’s, which he doesn’t take. instead taehyung pulls him into a hug, yoongi doesn’t expect the sudden action of affection, his arms not knowing what to do. “it’s so nice to finally meet you! ___ talks about you a lot,” taehyung’s confession makes your face flush.

“taehyung! what the fuck!? i’ve talked about you like twice, yoongi, i swear,” you defend yourself, pushing taehyung off of him. you laugh awkwardly, yoongi shoots you both a gummy smile.

“nice to meet you, taehyung,” he completely ignores your defense. he finds it cute, your flustered face as you try to tell taehyung to shut up.

“anyways,” you huff. “yoongi thinks i followed him here, so i am showing proof that i’m actually here with you guys and not stalking him.”

your friends snort at the same time, “actually, yoongi, we have no idea who this girl is! i think she’s following you,” taehyung whisper-shouts, you smack his shoulder.

“no but really, ___ we were just gonna call it a day, seulgi said she has to go to a family dinner soon and taehyung said he was hungry,” jungkook speaks up. it’s then that you realize that their instruments were almost all packed. yoongi looks down at you, a small smile on his face once he realizes what they’re trying to do.

“i leave to pee for five minutes and you guys hatch a plan to ditch me?!” you cross your arms over your chest.

“well… we just told you, so, technically we didn’t ditch you, also i can’t drop you off, yoongi, you can drop her off, right?” taehyung smiles to him.

“i—“ yoongi starts but you cut him off with plans to scold your members. they knew exactly what they were doing and you weren’t having it.

“taehyung, you’re dropping me off, let’s not bother yoongi,” you move to pack your bass but yoongi shakes his head.

“i can drop you off,” he smiles.

“oh, see! perfect! thank you, yoongi.” taehyung grabs his hand and gives him a good shake, before you know it your members are out the door.

you sigh as you lift your case and sling it over your shoulder, “it’s okay, yoongi, i can walk.”

he rolls his eyes, “don’t be ridiculous, are you hungry? we can eat first.”

his hand is outstretched and you’re not sure what it means, does he want to hold your hand? but no, he’s asking for your bass, so he can hold it instead of you. you reject his offer, “i can hold it.”

“you’re really stubborn,” he notes. it makes you snort.

“you’re not into stubborn girls?” the joke slips from your mouth before you can think.

this is the perfect time, yoongi thinks. “if it’s you, maybe i’ll make an exception.”

you try your best not to show any type of reaction, but you can’t really ignore the way your heartbeat quickened. yoongi leads you to his car, putting your bass in the trunk as you get comfortable in the front seat. he follows you soon enough and is driving out of the studio parking lot.

“you don’t have to work?” you question. getting into the car of someone you barely know is quite risky of you, but he was your neighbor, and he was hot. that doesn’t give you a reason to trust him, though for some reason, you think you can rely on yoongi, it’s a gut feeling.

“technically i work all day, i’m on my own schedule, i basically spend the entire day in the studio,” he explains. his focus is on the road but from his peripheral he can see your body turned to him, and your eyes glued on him.

“workaholic?” you guessed, he smiles.

“you could say that.”

“that’s good then, i’m giving you a reason for a break!” you clap, your nervousness fading as you start to get comfy with yoongi.

a friendship blooms from that lucky, odd encounter that day.

you forgot how long it’s been since you officially met yoongi and spent the day with him, maybe two months? three months ago? you never kept track. but you do remember that things changed after that. the two of you so obviously flirting with each other whenever you had the chance. yoongi would offer you a ride to the studio, which you greedily took whenever he asked; because he was a cool guy to be with, and in all honesty you were trying to put the moves on him. you’re not sure if he’s taking the hints though, you’ve never been good at the shy type of flirting, most of the time you’re upfront.

speaking of being upfront: yoongi hasn’t really been complaining about your noise lately, and it’s been eerily quiet on his end. no knocks on the wall when your volume was a tad bit higher than usual, no texts telling you to ‘be quiet’ when you were practicing late at night, nothing. you figure it’s because the two of you have grown a lot closer. hanging out together and even making some inside jokes together type of close.

it’s soon that you figure out why yoongi hasn’t been upfront, complaining to you about your noise, because he talked to your apartment manager about it. you knew namjoon well, he was one of your classmates in college. his father originally owned the place, so he’s been taking over for him. you’ve grown close to namjoon due to situations that left you outside of your apartment multiple times without your keys. his master key saved your ass one too many times. so, when you received a letter from him in the mail this morning with a big red ‘important’ stamp on it. you knew you were in trouble.

the words noise complaints, your neighbor, and eviction were the only ones you needed to read for you to be stomping towards yoongi’s apartment. you didn’t care that it was ten in the morning and you’re banging on yoongi’s door. you knocked nonstop until he opened up. his sleepy face scrunched in confusion as he stood before you.

“___? what’s wrong?” his morning voice could have made you melt, if you weren’t so fucking angry. you step past him, moving inside his apartment. “okay, come in, i guess,” yoongi says as he shuts the door behind you.

“you complained about me?! i got a fucking letter from namjoon! he never sends letters!” you raise your voice. it’s too early in the morning to be yelling, your voice is a bit rough, it sounds like you’re croaking.

it’s also way too early for yoongi to be dealing with this, so his voice is soft when he says, “be quiet, we’re gonna get complaints from the other neighbors now too.” he walks up to you and your very angry expression. he just looks so kissable right now, it’s making you angrier. how could he look so perfect when you’re mad at him? that’s so rude!

you lower your voice when you ask, complying to his demand. you cross your arms over your chest, “why would you do that?”

yoongi laughs.

it makes your eyebrows furrow. was he not taking you seriously? you loved this apartment, you needed to live here. it makes the anger boil a little hotter. “you think this is funny, yoongi? i’ve—” your voice is raising once more.

this time yoongi rolls his eyes. “shut up.” his voice grew deeper than it already was, the bass traveling straight to your lower belly.

you try to act as if it had no effect on you, but your small silence before you spoke made things a little obvious. “excuse me? shut up?” you scoff. your feet carrying you closer to yoongi, breaking the distance in effort to intimidate. yoongi wasn’t one to be scared, if anything, he found it funnier.

but the way that your pretty face looks when you’re angry makes yoongi want to do more, wants to push and push because he can feel the tension between you both. you can too. “yeah, you’re so goddamn loud all the time, shut the fuck up.” he moves a little closer, the distance between you both is almost none.

it makes your eyes flicker to his lips. here you were, thinking that you were gonna teach yoongi a lesson, yet you want to kiss him. “want me to shut up?” your eyes move back to his, making eye contact. he licks his lips in anticipation. “make me,” you press.

you feel his soft hand against your cheek first, leading you to his lips. then it was the plush of his lips against yours. this feeling could definitely make you shut up. before you knew it, you were pushing yoongi over to his couch. he breaks the kiss to plop down onto the couch, you follow suit, straddling his lap.

“if you wanted to make out with me, you could have just asked.” you spoke before reattaching your lips.

he smiles into the kiss, “where’s the fun in that?”

the kiss deepens, tongues exploring each other’s mouths and small whimpers escaping your throat. they go straight to yoongi’s groin, you can feel his hard cock against your core through your sweatpants. instinctively, you grind down, the feeling makes him groan out.

his large hands move to your ass, running over them and trailing up to your waist. his hands sliding under your shirt, you know you aren’t wearing a bra, and yoongi finds out soon after. his thumbs running right over your hard nipples, “eager?” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “i’m just cold.” the lie makes yoongi scoff, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index fingers. now, goosebumps raise over your skin, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

“take your shirt off,” he speaks against your lips. usually, you weren’t one to follow orders, your rebellious spirit screaming in your head, telling you to take control. but you’ve never wanted anything more than to let yoongi have you, let him do whatever he wants to you. because outside of this, he just seems so nice, never mean, never demanding. you can’t help but indulge in this new side of yoongi you’ve discovered.

so you’re taking your shirt off, the breeze created by his air conditioner makes you shiver, but yoongi's warm hands are there to comfort you. running them over your breasts, squeezing them just right as he kisses down your throat. “y-yoongi—” you whimper. his lips find a certain spot that has you grinding harder onto his dick.

“you aren’t very patient,” he speaks against your skin. “i’ll let it slide this time.” a tender kiss to your neck is placed before he lingers on the spot a little longer, sucking and licking, making sure to leave a pretty red mark. he makes his way to your nipple, wrapping his mouth around the bud and sucking. the feeling makes you throw your head back, his hand tweaks your other nipple, refusing to neglect it.

it was true, you were not patient. you hated waiting too long for something, just like how you hate the feeling of your warm core go uncared for. the grinding wasn’t enough at this point, you wanted more, needed it really. “are you gonna fuck me or not?” you push him gently off of your nipple.

an almost annoyed gaze is painted on his face, “are you going to beg?” he quirks an eyebrow.

you weren’t one to plead, “no.”

“then no,” he asserts. you purse your lips, complete dissatisfaction displayed on your face. “don’t worry, kitten, i’ll make you feel good.” yoongi gives in. he didn’t know how long he could hold back, your attitude makes him want to check you, make you cum as many times he wants you to until you’re obeying.

the nickname makes you drip. he’s pushing up from below, his leg kneeling onto the couch as he lays you down. your head lays against the pillow he has on the couch, yoongi gives you a swift kiss before he moves down, trailing kisses on the valley of your breasts and your stomach, stopping just before the waistband of your sweatpants. “yoongi,” you mewl.

“hm? wanna beg now?” he challenges. his fingers teasingly slipping under the band. your body reacts so easily to his touch, your hips slightly jerking up at the graze of his hands.

but you’re stubborn, not wanting to let yoongi win even though the only thing you want right now is for him to make you feel good. “no, never.” you shake your head.

yoongi doesn't verbally reply, instead, nodding and smirking to himself. “can i eat you out then?” he asks. you don’t trust your words, so you nod, knowing you’ll fall into the trap yoongi has set. “i need to hear you say it, kitten.”

“yes,” you quickly say.

yoongi quirks a brow. “yes, what?”

you roll your eyes, just once, you tell yourself. “yes, please.”

“good girl,” he praises. you hate to admit that you liked the way he called you a good girl. your sweatpants and panties are pulled down at the same time, revealing your wet pussy. “so pretty, baby.” he positions himself between your spread legs. you bite your bottom lip in anticipation.

kisses against your thighs and pubic bone are what he starts off with, then a brief kiss to your clit that makes you gasp. “oh, god—” you lean your head back against the couch.

“also, just to let you know, the letter was a joke,” yoongi breathes. mouth ghosting your lips, where you need him the most.

at first you didn’t pay attention to what he said, a hum leaving your lips until then you realized, “what?!”

“i thought it’d be funny to scare you a little bit, namjoon and i are friends, i asked him if he could do it for me.” he explains with a smile on his face.

you rolled your eyes. you knew it was too serious to be namjoon, his style was more so speaking, not letters. you couldn’t be mad at him, at least you weren’t in trouble. but you play it up for the fun, “will you make it up to me?” a sly look on your face.

“what do you want?” he leans his head against your thigh, waiting patiently for your answer. his fingers ever so gently running up and down your thighs.

“your cock,” you demand with a mischievous smile. your hands run through his hair, eyes pleading because you won’t allow your mouth to let the words out.

yoongi acts like he thinks about it, but all he truly wants, is to devour your and make you feel so good. “you don’t deserve it.” he denies you of the pleasure you want, but he surprises you, running his tongue along your slit.

“oh— oh, yoongi,” you mewl. your hands moving to play with your boobs, but yoongi knocks your hands away. he directs them to his hair, telling you to pull. his hands replace yours, playing and tweaking with your nipples as his tongue does the work.

“taste so good, baby.” yoongi loves the sight of you so vulnerable in front of him. you’re bare, naked while yoongi still has all his clothes on. he loves it. your eager body twitching from the ministrations of his tongue. he pulls away for a second, “don’t cum until i say so.”

“that’s not— umph!” you start but yoongi retracts his hands from your breasts, bringing them back to your thighs to spread them further apart. your lips reveal your sweet spot for yoongi to take, and he’s relentless. the taste of you on his tongue drives him crazy. “that’s not fair,” you moan out.

yoongi doesn’t care. he loves being in control. so when your phone starts to ring, yoongi thinks this is the best time to assert dominance. “answer it,” he commands. he pulls away from your pussy, the loss of the feeling of his tongue makes you groan out in displeasure. in turn, yoongi rubs his middle and ring fingers against your clit. it makes you gasp. he slips the fingers in, your walls pulsating against his fingers. another moan leaves your lips. you were completely ignoring the rings coming from your phone. he repeats himself, “answer the phone, baby.”

“but,” you spoke. your worry being that you were so wound up and yoongi’s fingers were still residing inside of you. you knew it would be way too obvious.

“they won’t know,” he assures. a gentle touch against your thigh comforting you, making you believe this was a good idea.

your fucked out brain obliges, your hand moving to reach for your phone. jungkook’s contact name displayed on the screen, you press the green button and place the phone next to your ear. “jungkook? what’s up?” you answer. yoongi’s eyes locked onto yours as you speak.

“speaker,” he mouths. you nod, mindlessly obliging. taking the phone away from your ear and pressing the speaker button. his fingers dangerously still in your pussy, ready to cause chaos whenever he felt like it.

“dude! guess fucking what!” jungkook shouts over the phone. yoongi pushes deeper, bottoming out his fingers. it makes your eyes roll back, a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

you’re moving the phone away so he doesn’t hear it, but yoongi is pushing your hand back into position. “what?” you cough, trying to cover the noise.

“you okay? you sound… weird.” jungkook snorts over the phone, you can hear seulgi and taehyung in the back, their bickering all too familiar.

“i— i’m good.” you nod even though he can’t see you.

“okay, well, this guy from a record label called earlier, he said he wants to take us all out to eat and talk about our future!” jungkook informs. your eyes widen. a record deal?! even yoongi reacts, a cute, surprised look on his face. how funny was it that you were receiving this news with yoongi’s fingers fucking you.

“you’re lying.” you sit up a little bit, leaning onto your forearm. yoongi decides to be nice, letting his fingers stay stagnant in your hole so you can enjoy the news.

“i’m serious! we’re on the way to yours right now to pick you up, be ready in five minutes,” he tells you.

“right now?!” you exclaim. yoongi smirks, starting to pumping his fingers in and out of you, making your breaths a little more labored. “oh— fuck,” you groaned, you tried to cover it up by making it sound like you were annoyed. but anyone could be able to tell what you were doing, the squelch of your pussy loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear probably.

“what the hell are you—” jungkook starts but you cut him off, yoongi’s fingers moving faster and the string in your belly about to snap from the tension.

“okay, jungkook! bye! love you! see you in a bit!” you rush the words out and press the big red button to hang up, throwing your phone onto the floor as yoongi leans over you with a smile on his face.

“congratulations, baby.” he punctuates his sentence with a quick circle around your clit. you’re so wound up, you could feel tears starting to build up in your eyes.

“yoongi, please, please let me cum.” you beg, giving in to his desires. the sound of your begging is music to his ears. he smirks, quickening the tight circles around your clit. your legs spreading wider if that was even possible.

yoongi’s plans were cut short due to your new plans, but he didn’t mind. he was happy for you, and he’s never wanted to make someone cum as much as he does now. “alright, kitten, cum whenever you want,” he whispers in your ear. his fingers coated in your wetness gliding against your clit, it feels way too good. the string in your belly snapping as soon as he gave you permission.

you found yourself letting out some of the loudest moans because yoongi was just that good. “holy fuck, yoongi,” you gasp. your chest rises and falls quickly, taking in as many breaths as possible.

“good job, baby.” he kisses your neck, letting you recover before slipping his fingers out and bringing them up to your lips. at first you furrow your eyebrows, this isn’t something you usually do; but when he says, “open,” you find yourself obliging easily. “good girl,” he smiles as you suck your cum off of his fingers.

you pull his fingers from your mouth when you’re sure you’ve sucked them clean, “i got a record deal dinner, min!” you rush to put your clothes on. yoongi tries his best to help, but all he wants to do is give you a big hug. he lets you put your clothes on before he’s holding you in his grasp, while you’re trying to make your way to his door. the two of you wobbling to his door.

“let me kiss you first, rockstar.” he smiles, his hand gently taking ahold of your face and giving you a kiss. it tastes just like you, the sultry memory that will live in yoongi’s brain for as long as it’s able.

he tries to kiss you once more, but you’re pushing him away. “i gotta go, yoongi,” you giggle. his hands holding you close to him, your back pressed against his front door as you kiss each other sloppily. “yoongi!” you smile, more laughs erupting as he helps you open the door. as soon as the door slides open, yoongi’s eyes move behind you, a sly smile on his face.

you turn to see your three band mates, all of their mouths agape. “i fucking told you! pay up, idiots!” seulgi smacks the both taehyung and jungkook’s shoulders.

your face blushes tomato red. you try to hide your face as you open your apartment door. before you turn the key, you hear yoongi congratulate the four of you. “good luck at your label meeting! make sure they don’t scam you,” he advises. your bandmates laugh, thanking yoongi and moving into your apartment. they don’t let you live down the embarrassment for the entire night.

when you come back home, you sit on your couch. a smile taking over your face when you think about how great the day was. you think the dinner went perfect, and when you hear a knock on your door, it has you rushing to open it.

yoongi stands outside your door with a cupcake and a single lit candle stuck in it. “congratulations!— it went well right?”

you stand in front of him, a sweet smile on your face as you nod. “i think they loved us,” you pull him into your apartment.

“of course they did! you guys are amazing!” yoongi hugs you, holding the cupcake above your head so it doesn’t get in your hair.

the rest of the night you and yoongi enjoy each other’s presence and the two of you talk about everything and nothing.

yoongi says the cupcake is just for you, but you take a knife and split it, “for us.” you give him a quick peck before eating your half, and then kissing him once more.

for us. it repeats in yoongi’s mind.

us.

yeah, he’d like that.

[prettyboybarzal]

Get You

Pairing: Sammy Blais x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Smut… Smutty smut smut. Just the works, you know?

A/N: In July, me and @bandgirlsclub​ were talking about my Sammy feels… and we talked about how he seems innocent and inexperienced, but he probably is a lil devil in the sheets. So, I needed to write it (for my own research and now for yours too.) This has like zero plot. It’s just sex. Enjoy and let me know what you think!! Title is based on the song “Get You” by Daniel Caesar and Kali Unchis. I couldn’t come up with another title name and I just love this song so, if you don’t like it... TOUGH.

Translations:

J'ai vraiment envie de toi: I really want you.

Vous êtes si belle: You’re so beautiful

Tu as tellement bo goût: You taste so good.

mon ange: My angel

Masterlist.

Then.

When you told your friends about your crush on Sammy Blais back in 2014, they all laughed in your face. Sammy Blais? They repeated after you admitted to it. How can you even see him as a sexual being? Like, what the fuck kind of question was that? You were insulted by their response, annoyed they so easily pushed him to the side for his other, more promiscuous teammates.

Sammy, as you knew him, was a bit quiet and reserved, but he was also always one of the funniest people in the room. If everyone just listened to him, like you did, they would understand why you found him so endearing. It was a combination of whispered jeers at his teammates and pointed looks shared from across a crowded room when someone did or said something stupid.

But how could they know any of that when he didn’t share it with anyone except you? He wasn’t making those same comments in your friends’ ears or sharing winks and eye rolls across the room with them either. It was only ever to you.

He thought your friends were nice enough, but they were a little too in-your-face for his liking. You, however, caught his attention because much like himself, you faded into the background as well. For the same reasons, you were drawn to each other. It was hard to find one of you without the other at parties like the one where the incident occurred.

As the 2014 NHL Draft approached, you realized it was now or never. Something needed to be done before he slipped away. And he was thinking the same thing.

That night, while the party raged on around you, you sat on the couch with your legs pulled up over his lap. His hand rested between your thighs, right at the top of your knee. His thumb traced circles along your skin as you talked about anything that could possibly get a response out of him, whether it be a giggle or one word or even an unexpected tangent.

You were unsure how long you spent on that couch with him, but your friends took notice and cleared the room to get you some privacy. They may not have understood the appeal of your crush on Sammy, but they sure as hell were going to get you what you wanted.

“Where’d the party go?” you asked, hoping that your nerves hadn’t crept into the sound of your voice. Sammy glanced around at the empty room and then sighed softly.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” he answered quite honestly. You laughed softly as you lifted your gaze to his. “Let’s be honest, we’re always looking for each other at these things.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Silence settled between the two of you for the first time as the reality of the relationship between you was clear. It had always been something a little bit more than friendship.

You were still smiling at each other, conversations shared through fleeting looks. He was unsure of himself, unsure of how you felt about him still after all this time. So, his next move was tentative. He couldn’t just come out and do it. He needed permission first.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, unable to find the words that were stuck in the back of your throat.

Sammy leaned in, hand gripping your knee as he tugged you just a bit closer to him. And then his lips met yours in a slow and purposeful kiss. It was cautious and careful, like he was scared to break you, and you were practically dripping with anticipation for what else could come of it. His hands remained where they’d been, one in between your knees and then other against your cheek.

The kiss slowed and he pulled away looking bashful, but you were itching for more. You scooched in closer and leaned in again. He took the hint and did the same. He tried to add a little more spice to it and leaned in quickly to capture your lips. Instead, you ended up bumping heads and you bit his lip by accident.

“Ow.”

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted. He brought his fingers to his lip and there was a little blood on the pad of his thumb when he removed it. Suddenly, the front door opened and if the bleeding lip and minor concussion wasn’t even to ruin the moment, his teammates would.

“Party’s here!”

You were standing before you could even think and Sammy was left looking defeated as his teammates swept you up in hugs and greeted him. They plopped down right in the spot you’d once been and started opening beers to catch up with the rest of the party. Someone shoved a cold beer in Sammy’s hand, swallowing up the warmth that he’d once felt against your cheek.

He didn’t know if he should’ve gone after you, but he stayed put on the couch anyway. He figured he could at least give you a little space after knocking his forehead against yours. But, ultimately that ended up being a huge mistake.

For the rest of the night, he left a wide berth between the two of you. He could’ve blamed it on his nerves or embarrassment over that shitty first kiss. Ultimately, it was his immaturity that ruined it all. Looking back on it now, he could confidently say so. 

It was nearing the end of the night when he heard you gossiping with the girls. He probably shouldn’t have stayed to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help it. He felt like he was cemented in place.

“I don’t know what happened,” he heard you whisper. “We kissed, and then when we went to kiss again it was all so awkward. We bumped heads and I bit his lip. He started bleeding, and then the rest of the boys showed up, so I just got up and walked away.”

“See, I told you Sammy doesn’t really know what he’s doing when it comes to girls.”

You murmured, “Everything was going so well!”

“It’s just how he is.”

Sammy rolled his eyes, mentally beating himself up for fucking up what he’d been planning for months. He heard the fridge door open and then the hiss of a beer can opening, and then a long and loud sigh.

“I should’ve just listened to you guys.”

He straightened up, brows drawn together in frustration. Of all the responses he thought you’d give, that wasn’t one of them. Had all those months sitting on the couches at house parties not shown you who he really was? He wasn’t just some bumbling idiot with a little schoolboy crush.

“So, are you over it? The crush?”

Before you could answer, he slipped back down the hallway. He tossed his half-full beer can in a garbage bag and walked right out the front door and all the way home.

Now.

After that night, Sammy’s bruised ego took a long time to heal. He moved to St. Louis and put all his effort towards his hockey career, pushing the soul crushing moments shared with you to the back of his mind. His teammates took him under their wing quickly and he was taught how to scope out the bars for someone to take home. Through trial and error, Sammy learned how to flirt and, most importantly, how to make a woman cum.

There were moments that he thought back to that night and wished he could change it. Of all the crushes he’d had in his life, the one on you never went away. Though he avoided home like the plague, his friends were still friends of yours, so he heard about you from time-to-time. They practically begged him to visit, at least just once a year, to catch up with everyone. He was hesitant. Too bruised and stubborn to see you once again.

Sure enough, they broke him down and when he returned home after the end of the 2019-2020 season, he found himself at the very same party as you.

You were the first person he saw when he walked into his former teammate’s house because of course you would be. You were perched atop the kitchen counter in a dress and heels, champagne glass in hand. Even though the music in the apartment was loud, he heard your laughter loud and clear as he entered.

“Sammy!”

He was surprised by your exclamation and, although his other friends shouted his name as well, he only focused on you as you hopped off the counter and ran over to him. Your arms looped around his waist.

“I didn’t believe the boys when they said you were coming.”

You smelled the same, like lavender and vanilla and something fruity. Your hair felt soft under his touch as he pulled you tighter to his chest.

“I’m happy you’re here.”

He smiled at you and responded, “Me too.”

As soon as your hug was over, he was gone. His friends swept him up beneath their arms and ushered him off to grab drinks.

When you returned to the girls, they watched you with knowing looks.

“Still?” one of them asked. You were avoiding their eyes, that much was certain.

“What do you mean still?”

“You still have a crush on him?”

You took the last swig of your drink and waved them off dismissively, saying, “No, of course not. It’s been six years.”

Apparently, six years was just enough time for that crush to grow.

Everyone at the bar was equally as excited to see Sammy return home, so you felt a bit deflated when he spent the better part of the night catching up with people you knew he couldn’t stand. The Sammy you once knew wasn’t the Sammy before you. This Sammy possessed an air of confidence you’d never seen and carried himself around the bar like he had a million better things to do, even though you knew he’d just be at home on the couch if he didn’t accept the invite.

He’d grown out of the stage in his life where he needed to sneak off to the couch in the corner with you, and that realization stung more than you wanted to admit. So, as you watched him talk to another random girl about two hours into the night, you stepped outside into the cool Summer air. He caught sight of you as you went and, though he wanted to push the thought of joining you out of his mind, he ended up excusing himself from the conversation he was having just to follow you.

He exited the bar and stepped onto the pavement of the sidewalk outside, eyes grazing each smoker’s face to see if you’d blended in with any of them. And then, there you were, at the corner of the bar and an alleyway beside it.

“Hiding?” he asked as soon as he was within earshot. You looked up from your phone and smiled at him, pushing yourself just slightly off the wall to give him your full attention.

“Maybe.”

“Can I hide with you?”

“Of course.”

He leaned his shoulder up against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. You tried not let your eyes wander, but it was hard to ignore how defined his muscles had gotten since the last time you’d seen him.

“Nothing’s really changed, huh? They’re all just as crazy as they’ve always been.”

You hummed and then spoke what had been on your mind all night, “We’ve changed. Neither one of us have ended up sneaking off to hide from the party.”

“Until now,” he added, motioning between the two of you and the outside air.

“Do you remember when we used to just sit in the corner at parties and talk all night?”

He nodded, responding, “That was the only reason I ever went to those parties.”

“That’s not true.”

“Did you ever see me anywhere other than by your side?”

You laughed at his question and that was answer enough.

“Do you remember when we kissed?” he asked. The question tumbled from his lips shamelessly. Not even a blush came over his cheeks as he asked. Yours, on the other hand, was clear. “I’ve thought about that kiss way more than I’d like to admit.”

When his eyes lifted to yours, you felt a chill run down your spine. His eyes were dark and yearning and they kept flickering to your lips and back to your eyes again. So, you said, “Me too.”

Everything that happened next was a blur. He grabbed your hand and tugged you out of sight into the alley. His hands gripped your hips and pressed you against the brick as his lips captured yours in a feverish and needy fashion.

You felt the kiss from your head to your toes. It was unlike the one you shared years ago. Sammy was more sure in himself, more confident, just like suspected. He had a lot to make up for. He nudged your legs apart with his knee as his tongue slipped past your lips and into your mouth. You moaned as you rubbed your core against his thigh.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this,” he spoke against your lips. You nodded, letting him know that you felt just the same. His lips hovered over your jaw for a moment before he pressed a kiss to it, then to the skin of your neck. Your head lulled to the side, giving him access to more skin. “I was just a kid back then. I had no idea how to handle a woman like you. But everything’s different now.”

“Different how?” you inquired, eager to know just what he meant by those words. He lifted his head from your neck and took your jaw between his fingers. He could tell you, or he could show you.

“Come home with me.”

You couldn’t leave fast enough. You went inside and complained to your girlfriends about stomach pains while he said goodbyes to the boys, letting them know he’d be taking an Uber with you to make sure you got home safely. No one batted an eye. Who would? It was just Sammy Blais.

Your car pulled up not even ten minutes later. He pulled the door open for you, stared at your ass as you entered, and then slid in right next to you, hand falling to your thigh once more. He shed himself of the light jacket he’d been wearing and threw it over your laps for a little privacy because keeping his hands to himself was not in the cards. With a dress that short, you couldn’t expect him to not touch you.

As the driver spoke nonsense into the otherwise quiet car, Sammy fingers trailed closer to your core until they were brushing along the fabric of your thong. A gasp escaped your lips at his touch.

“You alright, baby?” he asked, turning to look at you. The pet name caught you by surprise, but you simply bit your lip and nodded before dropping your head against his shoulder. He smiled contently and returned his attention to the man behind the wheel while his fingers continued their path.

He pushed the fabric aside and slipped a finger past the lips of your pussy. His movements were painfully slow and your heart hammered in your chest as you yearned for more. As if he could read your mind, he added a second finger to massage your folds and then he sunk them into your heat.

It was excruciating, the way he moved his fingers slowly in and out of you. You were desperate for more but each time you tried to get a little added friction, he pulled his fingers away with a warning glare. It was a sick game of cat and mouse that you were playing all the way to his apartment building.

He held your hand as you stepped out of the car on shaky legs and led you into the building. In the elevator, he lifted your chin and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before turning your back to his chest and enveloping you in his arms. You could feel his erection pressed against your ass and your pussy throbbed in anticipation of what was to come.

The moment his apartment door was closed, he was pressing you against it.

“J'ai vraiment envie de toi,” he whispered against your throat. You whimpered as he pushed your thong to the side again and pushed his fingers back into your cunt, curling them against your g-spot. “You’re so wet.”

The way he’d already worked your pussy in the car made his touch even more intense. He circled your clit with his thumb. His fingers worked your pussy as he sucked a mark into your neck. It wasn’t long before you began to grind against his hand, already so close to your first orgasm of the night. It was right there, so close, and then he pulled his fingers out and stepped back.

“Bedroom.”

While you flitted off to the bedroom, Sammy took his time kicking his shoes off at the door and dropping his jacket over a kitchen chair. So, you took the opportunity to peel the dress from your body, leaving you only in your panties as you crawled up to his headboard. The sound of his belt hitting the floor in the hallway had you spreading your legs and sliding your fingers beneath the waistband.

When Sammy stepped into the room, you could see him swallow as his eyes caught on your fingers in your pussy. His eyes were dark as he walked towards the end of the bed. In one swift movement, he wrapped a hand around your ankle and yanked you down the bed before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“You’re impatient,” he grunted. “This pussy’s mine tonight.” He pressed a rough kiss to your lips. His free hand danced up your thigh and returned to your core. He slid two fingers between your folds. “Do you understand?” You nodded. He curled his fingers inside of you. “I want to hear you. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours,” you breathed out, chest heaving beneath him.

“Vous êtes si belle.”

He leaned down and attached his lips to your nipple, sucking and biting and drawing all the beautiful sounds from you. His free hand was back to work, tugging your panties down to your knees.

“Do you want my fingers or my mouth?” he asked. He sucked on the sweet spot below your ear, making it nearly impossible to speak. “Choose.”

“Your mouth,” you choked out. “I want your mouth.”

He left a trail of kisses from your neck all the way to your chest, tongue licking and sucking at your nipples before continuing down your stomach to your hips. As he began to your thighs, his fingers played with your nipples, setting off every nerve in your body. You opened your eyes to look down at him between your thighs and as soon as your gaze met his, he licked a stripe up your core.

You half-whispered, half-moaned, “Fuck.”

“Louder.”

Shy and reserved were two words that you’d never use to describe Sammy again, not after the way his tongue caressed you. The sounds that fell from your mouth only egged him on. He loved your moans, but he knew he could draw something more out of you. So, when his fingers began to work in tandem with his tongue and you released a scream, he was determined to get you to scream again.

You dropped your hands into his hair as his tongue stroked your core. You tugged and he groaned into your cunt, the vibration causing you to shudder beneath him. You began to grind against him as he tongue fucked you. The sound of your whimpers and heavy breathing only made him work harder and faster, eager to have you cum on his face.

“Tu as tellement bo goût.”

You quivered beneath him, moaning out his name as your first orgasm washed over you. He couldn’t take his eyes off your face as it twisted in pleasure while he continued to lap up the wetness of your pussy. You placed your hands at the top of his head as the stimulation became too much and pushed him away lightly.

He stood, admiring every inch of your naked body as you caught you breath beneath him. You looked fucking perfect and so fucked out already that he was too eager to see what you’d look like after taking his dick.

“Come on, baby,” he spoke softly. “You’re not tapping out are you?”

“Fuck you,” you grunted, blissed out smile betraying your own words.

“Please do,” he said, eyes dark.

After a deep breath, you got onto all fours before crawling to the end of bed to undo his jeans. He watched you hungrily as your fingers moved along the zipper and pushed the pants down. After he kicked them to the side, you trailed your fingers along the waistband of his underwear and watched him shiver. You never wanted to watch someone unravel more than you wanted him to.

You pulled them off and freed his cock, eyes lighting up at the size of it. He smiled down at you, admiring the way you looked on your knees for him.

Your hands curled around his member, gathering the precum from the tip to coat over it. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied your every movement. One hand cupped your cheek and slid into the hair at the back of your head as you brought your lips closer. You wrapped your lips around his length, tongue flattening against it as you took him deeper.

He wanted to keep watching, but he could hardly keep his eyes open or his head from lulling to the side. Your mouth felt so good around him. With one hand on his shaft and the other on his balls, he could hardly think straight. Your tongue teased his tip before taking him in again, gasps escaping his mouth. Each time, you took him deeper and faster and he could feel his orgasm building.

“Stop,” he grunted, hand wrapping in your hair to keep you from continuing. You were knelt in front of him with your mouth open, tongue out, so ready to take him back into your mouth. It was hard to resist. “Fuck, I want you to keep going, but I need to cum while I’m inside that pretty little pussy of yours.”

You whimpered at his words.

“Lay down.”

You did as you were told once again and watched as he grabbed a condom from inside his bedside table and rolled it over his cock. You spread your legs as he crawled up the bed. His hands traveled up your thighs again and he ran his fingers along your folds as he captured your lips in his again. Then, he pulled away to wrap his hand around his shaft.

“You gonna take my cock, mon ange?” he asked, his voice soft and sweet contrasting the vulgarity of his question. You nodded, desperate to feel him inside of you after all this time. Your hands fluttered down to grab his length and pull it into you, but he pulled back. The smirk on his lips was teasing, mischievous. “Beg for it.”

“Sammy,” you whined. He shook his head, hand pumping himself as he waited impatiently to get what he wanted. “Please.”

“You can do better than that, pretty girl. Tell me how badly you want it.”

Never would you have thought those words could come from timid Sammy Blais, but he hovered over you, staring darkly at your naked form with demands falling effortlessly from his lips. This was what he’d been hiding this entire time? You wanted more of it.

“C’mon, baby,” you moaned. He watched your lips as you begged and brushed the head of his member along your entrance. “I need your cock. I want you to fill me up and fuck me until I’m screaming. Don’t make me wait any longer, please.”

Finally, he pushed into you. He sucked in a deep breath as you threw your head back, eyes clamping shut. He gave you a moment to adjust, using it for himself to breathe as well. He wanted this to last more than a few minutes. You nodded at him to move once you were ready and he fucked into you slowly, murmuring, “You’re so fucking tight.”

“You feel so good,” you told him, fingers curling through the hair at the nape of his neck. You wrapped your hands around his biceps as his thrusts got faster. When he bottomed out, he stilled to get a good look at the euphoria on your face. You met his eyes and wrapped your legs around his hips. “Harder, Sammy. Please.”

You were still begging and he fucking loved it. He snapped his hips to yours again, then again, and again. He swallowed your moans with his lips. You wrapped your legs around his hips, drawing him in farther. You were so full of him, but you just couldn’t get enough.

He buried his face into your neck as his thrusts became sloppier. He sucked along your neck, no doubt leaving marks that could be discovered tomorrow. Your nails dug into his shoulders leaving marks of your own. The sound of his heavy breathing and the whimpers falling from your lips indicated that you were both rapidly approaching your highs.

Sammy wrapped an arm around your waist and flipped your bodies to have you on top. In this new position, he heled you to his chest and fucked up into you. He was hitting every spot and you were a moaning mess with each thrust.

“Cum, YN,” he spoke through jagged breaths. “Cum all over my cock.”

His hand snaked back to your core as you rode him, massaging the sensitive bud to help get you to your orgasm. You chanted his name as your walls fluttered around him. He fucked you through your climax, French curses falling from his lips and into the skin of your neck.

He continued through your aftershocks, chasing his orgasm desperately as your obscene moans filled the room. He came with a final thrust that you felt in your stomach and he collapsed on top of you breathing heavily. Your fingernails scratched his back soothingly as he softened inside of you.

He rolled over and stared at the ceiling as his breathing evened out. You did the same, though one of your hands reached out to curl your fingers between his. He glanced over at you with pink cheeks and sighed, “Holy shit.”

After a moment, you asked, “Sammy, why haven’t you been fucking me like that since high school?”

He rolled over to hover over you once more and kissed you hard, all with a smile on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I told you that I didn’t know what I was doing back then.”

“Well, you definitely do now.”

“And that means I have six years to make up for,” he said, biting lightly on your bottom lip. “I hope you aren’t planning on sleeping for a while.”

Sammy picked you up and carried you out of the bedroom, smiling while listening to your giggles the entire way. When he dropped you, it was in the bathroom and he turned the shower on before turning to trail his eyes along your body to your eyes.

“How about a shower?”

Bonus

“Where’s YN?” one of your roommates called down the hall to the others in the kitchen. She was standing in your doorway, staring at the empty bed in front of her in confusion. The other girls approached from the kitchen and stopped once they saw what she was looking at.

“I thought Sammy brought her here last night.”

“Me too.”

“I thought one of you checked last night.”

The sound of a key in the lock of the front door had them running to the living room to greet you. You pushed the door open totally not expecting to be bombarded by the girls.

“Where have you been?” “Is that a St. Louis Blues sweatshirt?” “Is that Sammy’s number on the sleeve?” “Is that a hickey?!”

As they asked their questions and made assumptions, albeit correct ones, you walked into the kitchen to grab a water bottle. They followed, still echoing the same questions over and over. Finally, as you sat at the kitchen table, they simmered.

“I was at Sammy’s,” you said. You pinched the shoulder of the hoodie and waved the material. “and this is his sweatshirt,” you continued. You yanked the collar away from your neck. “and these are hickeys.”

“There’s more than one,” someone muttered.

The look on their faces were ones of pure shock. Their brains were struggling to understand what exactly happened last night, though the proof of it was right in front of them.

“You fucked Sammy?!”

You told them how his fingers worked you and the way he made you scream while you came like no other man had before. You told them about the shower you took after, how it was both and sexy and sweet the way that he washed your hair and then fucked you against the shower wall. And they sat there in shock, realizing that clearly they’d not known Sammy all that much after all.

Some things, though, you chose to keep to yourself. Like the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear this morning while he fucked you slowly and passionately in his bed just twenty minutes before dropping you off. And the promise he made to fuck you again, and again, and again.

[inf3stissumam]

For the prompt thing could I request 14 and 17 with Mary Goore? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Number 14! I'll reblog with 17 when its finished, sorry this got so long!

The dive bar you bartended at was home to many rough, grungy, and loud bands that came in and out regularly and drew in rowdy crowds full of all the misfits and goth kids from the nearby college. There were a few local bands that played at the bar almost every week and you came to recognize them, you even became a fan of one of them. Their lead singer was hard to ignore with his pallid complexion, cheeks and eyes hollowed with black makeup, and his signature blood splattered face; not to mention the fact that he had the best metal voice of any of the bands you had ever heard play there. You had to admit that the nights that his band played left you easily distracted and made your job a bit more difficult, albeit much more enjoyable. You were always nodding along to his music as you poured drinks and although you couldn’t pick out any of the lyrics or the titles there was always one song that started with a slow guitar melody and you loved it and looked forward to it every time. You came to learn the lead singer’s name after a few months when he started coming to the bar after shows to indulge in a single beer. The industry was not forgiving, and you presumed it was because he didn’t have enough money to splurge on more than one drink – you always gave him the employee discount out of appreciation, but he didn’t know it. You had offered him a drink on the house, but he wouldn’t accept – you learned that night that he was quite stubborn. You also learned his name that night: Mary Goore. You read it off of his credit card. He never stuck around the bar for long, he would make his rounds to talk to all the patrons to promote his band or to find someone to go home with. After months of watching him do the same after every performance, you realized that it wasn’t just because he was looking for a quick fuck or to gain popularity through one night stands, but rather that he did it because he wouldn’t have a place to stay otherwise.

One night the bar was unusually empty – it was the homecoming football game at the local college which left only a few straggling, unamused tourists hanging about the bar while Mary performed. The patrons cleared out shortly after the set ended and you watched the band pack up their equipment as you wiped down the bar. Mary seemed a little lost, not knowing how to carry himself without being able to do his usually schmoozing. When the band was mostly finished, you watched as Mary made his way to the bar and began pouring a large glass of draft beer, setting it down right when Mary slumped in bar stood looking upset. It couldn’t have been easy to give so much to your art and performances with so few people paying attention and no money to show for it. You admired him for it.

“Mary. It’s on the house tonight, don’t argue with me.” You said to him firmly, prepared for his stubborn refusal.

But it never came. He just nodded, keeping his head and gaze down and dragging the glass towards him silently. He drained half the glass in one gulp. You reached a hand out to set it on the bar near him so he knew you were speaking to him.

“Mary? Is everything okay?” You hoped you weren’t crossing a line. This was pretty much the first time you had spoken more than a word to each other, despite seeing each other almost weekly. He didn’t respond, didn’t even look up as he finished his beer quickly. You knew that Mary needed a place to stay that night – there was no one left in the bar for him to ask.

“Look I know we don’t know each other well but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.” You lean your head down to speak to him, not wanting to embarrass him or seem patronizing. He looks up and finally meets your eyes, eyebrows crooked like he was confused and shocked that anyone had noticed him and worried about him.

“Do you need a place to stay?” You asked him. “I live just around the block and there’s no reason for you to have to sleep in your car tonight. Just… stay with me? You can have the bed and I can sleep on the couch just… you never know what will happen at night around here and I just couldn’t sleep knowing that you didn’t have a safe place to sleep.” You rambled, knowing there was a high possibility you sounded like a creep. You just genuinely wanted to help him, you respected his craft so much and wanted to show that to him, unlike so many other people who frequented the bar and took advantage of his situation.

“Yeah… okay,” he mumbled, eyes on his fidgeting hands. “But please, I won’t let you sleep on the couch. That’s my only request, its your house you deserve to enjoy your own bed.”

You didn’t push it, knowing how stubborn he was. But later that night when you got back to your place and ready for bed you asked Mary once more if he wanted the bed, knowing it must have been a while since he had a comfortable place to sleep.

He said no, but he sat on the bed while he waited for you as you got ready for bed in the bathroom. When you were finished, he had already fallen asleep on your bed.

As you moved him slightly to tuck him under the covers, he reached two arms out, grabbing at you like a child. You were endeared and your heart tugged the way it had all those times you heard him play your favorite song. So, you joined him.

When he woke up with his back pressed to your chest and your arms wrapped around him, he didn’t even argue when you asked him to stay in bed.

“God, you don’t know how many times I’ve imagined waking up like this with you…”

[cherry-ber]

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy?”

Pairing: idol! Mark Lee x female reader

Plot: Lonesome creeps into everyone's mind, even those who seem to have it all.

Genre: fluff mostly, angst.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, extremely painful for me to write this since I feel lonely idk if that triggers you too.

A.N: inspired by the first draft of too drunk to fuck and my bff's dependence of wine to exist 😳 this took me 10 hours to write but it might still be pretty shit. And yeah Clueless some how

After a long, long week of continuous recordings, dance practices, re-recordings and photo sessions, all he wanted to do, was sleep for twenty hours straight. He knew that he was a very lucky man, he was really living the dream. Not everyone was able to do what they loved, with people they genuinely liked, and still get payed for it, but he was. He had always been grateful, he knew the real value of things in real life, and sometimes he felt like he didn't even deserve it.

An insane amount of people knew his name, knew him, and constantly made sure that he knew how appreciated he was, but he couldn’t understand it at all. Sure, he proved himself over and over again how great he could be, and he was proud too, but why did people really loved him? Sometimes it's easy to lose yourself, but lately he was struggling even more, he felt lost and unworthy, he felt guilty, even, because he shouldn't feel this way.

Mark was home alone, after his friends went out to have dinner and drinks. He excused himself out of the reunion saying that he would call his parents and then heading straight to the bed. He wasn't lying at all, he did have a small call with his family, and then went to his room, expecting that he'd fall asleep soon and forget about what he was feeling, he was done with that for today.

He played a movie in his computer, knowing that whatever it was, he wasn't paying attention anyway. He hated to admit it, but he felt like he was missing something, rather, someone. He felt ridiculous, knowing how much people loved him, how many friends he had, but he couldn’t help it, he would be lying if he didn't say he could use a little company. Mark was busy most of the time, which, although tiring, was an escape from his loneliness, it was moments like this where he'd have enough time to sink in this small puddle of angsty feelings, that just grew until it was as big as an ocean. He couldn't explain why he felt so bad, he had enough friends to count on, and even when he considered he was only in need of a physical affect, it turned out to not be the answer, even when he masturbated, when he was finished, those feelings were still there. As the movie went on without him noticing, he turned his head to the side, and imagined someone next to him, wearing his clothes and stealing his blanket. He giggles, imagining cuddling someone to sleep, their heat making him feel home. He finally closes his tired eyes with a smile, hoping his dreams will be sweet and last long.

He wakes up in a bad mood, and doesn't really want to talk to anyone, his older friends notice, and decide to let him be, they know that if something is really wrong, he'll come to them eventually. After a quick shower, he decided he needed some privacy, some time alone, despite being scared of being stuck with himself, and went out on his own, ignoring the texts on the group chat, where everyone wondered where he was going. He had breakfast in a small Cafe, went to a movie matinee, an art gallery, a theater play, and then to a mall to buy himself expensive clothes. He had an okay day, and he grew a little bit of joy, finding himself alone and still almost enjoying his time, but mostly, ignoring his mind when he saw a couple, and wished he could have that too. He enters a restaurant, intending to order something take out for his friends, as an apology for being moody and worrying them. He waits stand up next to the door, with a cup of coffee they offered him, until he suddenly turns around after hearing his order being ready, and ceashes with someone as he does. He spilled his drink over his and their clothes. He starts apologizing, but all he gets as a response is a soft, sweet giggle. He looks to the stranger's face, and is met with a fond smile.

“It's okay, go get your food, I can fix myself”

He's caught off guard, and all he can do is shake his head yes and do as he is told, coming back to them, apologizing again.

“I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry” he's totally embarrassed, and he feels a blush running through his face.

“It's alright, it wasn't your fault”

The stranger walks inside to take a table, and he rushes out, walking back home. That giggle makes its way to his mind a couple times as he arrives.

After eating, he goes to bed, feeling somehow full with himself, but he doesn't know if it was after forcing himself to like him, or if he was so desperate for someone that a small interaction like that would get him sleepless thinking this person would be his person.

On that same week, he founds himself running into that same stranger everywhere. When he goes get coffee with his friends, when they go to buy groceries, when he heads to the studio, and he wonders if he should be worrying, but decides not to.

Surprisingly, he founds her again, when he is entering a new coffee shop, and she walks her way out. He opens the door for her, and is met with her fond smile again, that grows larger as she recalls his face. She mumbles a sweet 'thank you' and keeps walking. Some courage grows inside Mark, and blurts out whatever his brain was fast enough to say.

“Thanks for not spilling that coffee back” the young lady finds the sentence, although awkward, funny, and turns back to him to reply.

“Maybe I should pay for your coffee, though, you were enjoying it until I crashed into you” Her melodic voice is enough to put Mark in a trance, and loses control of what he's doing, disconnecting from his awkward self.

“Actually it was my fault” he giggles remembering how sweet she was, even after Mark probably just ruined her day “Did you get a horrible stain?”

She walks closer to him, small steps that make his heart beat faster.

“It wasn't horrible, I wouldn't say that, it was just, slightly bad”

“I don't want to be a weirdo, are you busy right now? I could use some chatting, and I really owe your laundry money”

She was never an outgoing person, but she was flattered by his proposal. She was meeting someone, but she figured it wouldn't be important enough to not cancel.

“I would love that, but you owe me nothing” she giggles and walks beside him into an empty table.

“I'm Mark, by the way”

“I know that” she laughs it off, attempting for things not to be awkward “My name is Y/N”

It was only after several months, that Mark found himself, again, over thinking about how lonely he was, and how desperate he was for it to end. Whenever he had the chance, he'd spend time with his new friend, and for some weeks, thats was enough, until he realized that, all she wanted from him, was a friendship. His friends noticed, too, how after a while, that wasn't enough for him, but he was terrified he'd lose her, but they'd often try to help him out in whatever way other men would think was best, teasing her when she was at the dorms, insinuating how cute of a couple they'd be, and shamelessly asking if by any chance, she'd have feelings for him, never really giving away Mark's crush on her, not explicitly at least.

One afternoon, when they were all watching a movie together, when suddenly, Johnny and Taeyong convinced everyone to go out and have dinner, even after Mark suggested they just called the restaurant, because he was too tired to go out.

“Oh” Taeyong said, grabbing his keys and putting on a hat “then you can stay here with Y/N and order something and we can take our time”

The girl was a little disappointed, she loved spending time with the other guys two, but she agreed, knowing that Mark wouldn't want be convinced to leave the couch.

She sees then leave, and turns around to look at her friend, somehow aware of what his friends were trying to do; leave them alone, after last night they discussed Mark should just accept the reject, and confess. The boy asked, pleaded and begged them not to leave them alone, after he opened up about his feelings, but of course, his friends thought they'd know better.

“Can you order pizza while I take a shower?” his attention called back to where he was, as the sweet woman walked into the living room, with a bottle of wine and two cups. Mark chocked in his spit, when the thought of her showering, and how much he'd love to enter the scene, crossed his mind.

“Yeah, sure” he watched her walking away “Do you want some clothes?”

“Well, if I could steal one of your hodies tonight, I wouldn't mind”

He does as he's asked, calling a pizzeria and taking off his hoodie, hoping that she'd appreciate the smell of his cologne, that he wears only when she's coming around.

When she comes out, wearing her jeans and tank top, he throws the sweater at her, she puts it on and sits in the couch next to him, ready to start eating, reaching out for the bottle to serve them a cup after the first bite.

“I don't want to drink that” he'd never been a fan of alcohol, he knew he could use a boost, but he was still afraid of it.

“Huh? Why is that?”

“I don't drink wine” She recalled how he'd often drink with Johnny and her, whenever Johnny wanted to open a bottle, which happened quite often, but decided not to insist, although she did pour a cup for herself.

Mark, and any other men, really, always wondered what could she be thinking about, she was wild, energetic, but calmed and peaceful, she was always kind, but wouldn't hesitate to start a fight if to defend herself or someone else, she was never scared, but she was sensitive and fragile. He couldn't help the sigh that left his body, remembering why he had feelings for her in the first place. He knew how much she'd hate to be in a relationship, they had already discussed it, after some girl confessed to Mark, and she mentioned how relationships to her were useless, since she got all the love she wanted from her friends, and that way, she made sure that all the love she gave was reciprocal. When he told his manager about his feelings, expecting him to give him helpful advice, he just told him to forget about her. “women like her are too complicated, it's not worth it”. He wondered then, how many other guys would think the same, and refused to be one of those.

They were both full, and cuddling in the couch, she was sipping her second cup, when Mark suddenly poured a cup for himself too, and drank it in one large sip. He felt a rush through his body, his face flustered, and a numb sensation in his limbs. He was trying to keep himself still, but the sudden alcohol in his body made him bubbly and the woman next to him realized. The cheesy romcom that was playing on the back made him giggle in every other scene, and with every minute that went by, he felt looser and looser. He served another cup and drank it just as fast as the first one. Soon, he found himself leaning towards the body that sat next to him. Y/N pat her thigh, inviting Mark to rest his head there, which he did, while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy” he lets out in a serious tone.

Giggly, his friend shakes her head no, and places her cup in the table in front of them. “Do you feel like sexy?”

He sits himself back, eyes wide open, same serious expression in his face.

“I guess so?” he laughs at how dumb he must sound “I feel... Jiggly”

Her sweet, loud laugh fills the room, and Mark is proud of himself for making her so happy.

“Love, you should go to sleep already” he feels his face hotter and hotter, and can only imagine how red he must be “you were already tired, I'll clean up and meet you in your room-”

Mark bursts out of his bubble and speaks

“Don't do that” he says softly, as if he was genuinely hurt by her words “Please, don't do that”

Worried, Y/N walks closer to him, “Do what?”

He looks down to his feet, feeling tears forming in his eyeballs, product of his low alcohol tolerance, and his overall emotional state. “Dont call me love. You don't love me”

She reaches for his hands, attempting to make him look straight at her eyes “Of course I love you Mark”

“Not the way I want you to”

She had never been good with other people's feelings, especially romantic feelings, she had a hard time catching indirects.

“In which way is that?” hesitant, Mark stares at her for a couple seconds, before staring at her lips, too numb to do better, he grabes her chin and pulls her closer to him, a sweet, slow kiss surprising her as much as himself. When he pulls away and expects a response of any kind, all she can do is try to look at him.

“Oh, Mark” she finally manages to say “is this the way you feel?” he nods, still nervous but hopeful that she'll feel the same “You're drunk, go to sleep” she turns around as she cleans as quick as she can, as mark makes his way to his room, or to the first room he sees open.

Before the other men living in the dorms arrive and ask questions that she doesn't want to answer, she leaves, leaving a post it note in the fridge for Mark”

“Drink water and have a painkiller,

I had to go home. Thanks for the wine

-Y/N”

Too many weeks after, Mark calls her phone one more time before he enters the dorms, wondering if he had really done the worst thing in the world, for her to ghost him like that. He let a tired sigh out, grateful that he was home alone again. He goes to his room, ready to sleep for as long as he can, but when he opens the door, the lights are on, and in his bed sits what could be only described as an angel, beautiful as always, smiling and kind Y/N, with a cup of wine in her delicate hands, and another one on his nightstand, that she offers him as he's taking off his shoes and sweater.

With pain and regret in her eyes, as he's taking the first sip, she attempts to break the silence. “You ever notice how wine makes people feel sexy?”

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Sooo... I think It’s the size of my tag list that was fucking this chapter up so much! Every time I have more than my previous chapter had, this chapter deletes itself from my page/drafts! I’ve contacted Tumblr about it, but don’t cross ur finger’s on that one lol. I am sorry if you weren't able to make the list!

(If you beta read for me you could read the chapters up to an entire day ahead of every else tho! If ur interested in that, just inbox me!)

HnM

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

Month 1, Month 2 , Month 3,

--Month 4--

‘SLAM!’

The front door crashed shut like ammunition through cannon fire. The sharp bang clapped and echoed throughout the small, otherwise quiet living space, and soon, three roommates filed out of their respective rooms. One by one, they inched out to get a glimpse of the oncoming storm: Hurricane Katsuki.

Denki warily removed his gaming headpiece as Bakugou whipped past his bedroom door, “Oh hey, Bakugou! You sure disappeared outta nowhere. We coulda used the backup in squads! Where’d ya go, man!?” 

The others listened carefully for the explosive blond’s answer, but got nothing short of an insult in return,

“None of your business, you damn idiots. GO DIE ALREADY!” and with that, Hurricane Katsuki simply slammed the door shut-- somehow even louder than before.

Kaminari, who had gotten the brunt of the explosion, was left wide eyed,

“Woah…”

Sero gave a low whistle as he shook his head at Bakugou’s shut door, “Looks like a wild Teenage Bakugou has entered the chat.”

Denki gave an abrupt, slightly uncomfortable chuckle at the remark, but soon gulped, giving his roommates a concerned gaze, “So… should we…” he trailed off.

Kirishima fervently nodded, stepping fully out into the hallway, “I’ll go check on him, guys.” He flexed before making his way to Bakugou’s room—a nervous habit he had picked up somewhere along the line to reassure himself before he dived headfirst into rough situations.

He looked back to his other two roommates one last time and threw a pleading glance as if to say “Wish me all of the luck” before giving a few slight knocks to the rage-secreting room, “Bakugou,” he called out, “You okay, buddy? I know that there is something up. There’s no point in hiding it…we can talk?”

No answer.

Kirishima gave a long sigh, “Well, when you finally want to talk about it, you know where to find me...” 

The other roommates sighed as well before both retreating to their rooms and shutting their doors. Kiri turned to make his way back to his room as well, but only made it a few feet before Bakugou’s door sharply yanked open a few inches.

“Where are those other idiots?” Bakugou’s eyes were redder than their usual vermilion as he glared out from the cracked doorway. Kirishima gave a thick blink in surprise. Had he… had he been crying?

“They back in their rooms?” Bakugou said very lowly. His voice had an extra hint of raspiness weighing it down, Kirishima noticed.

“Y-Yeah.” Eijirou quickly replied, startled by the unseemly sight of his best friend, “They’re prolly back on the game by now.” Bakugou did not say another word as he threw his door open a few more inches and marched deeper into his room to stiffly throw himself on the edge of his bed. Kirishima cautiously followed him-- this was as good of an invitation as any in ‘Bakugou language.’

Bakugou sat, glaring seriously at the floor in front of him, as if it offended him, and his leg bounced nervously. The red head uncomfortably cleared his throat. ‘Holy shit, what the hell is going on…?’  Kirishima had never seen him do that before, “You.. uh.. you wanna talk about it, buddy?”

No answer.

Kirishima waited a few beats before releasing another sigh and shutting the door behind him so that he could make his way to the bed. He sat down next to his best friend and simply sat deep in the silence with him. The two waited for what seemed like hours before someone finally spoke up,

“I got a girl pregnant,” Bakugou said very flatly, still glaring at the floor and bouncing his leg.

Kirshima had to stifle the choke that erupted out of his throat as his own saliva sneaked into his larynx, “Ack! Achkaka!” His natural bodily functions were completely forgotten as his brain tried to compute the sudden and drastic information that was just thrown at him.

Bakugou?? Pregnant? He never thought he would hear the words in the same room, let alone the same sentence! The guy hardly ever did anything but work, work out and come home to play video games. He didn’t converse with people. He didn’t get girls pregnant. Girls didn’t even look at him!

In his coughing fit, Kirishima’s speech was also forgone, “I-I- uh.. man that.. wow I…” he tripped and tumbled over his words. He was dreaming. He had to be. Well, either that or he had wandered into some strange episode of the Twilight Zone or something.

Bakugou’s glare at the floor intensified, “I thought she might not be so bad… but I didn’t want to be with her like this,” Kirishima’s eyes widened at the underlying tone of hurt buried under his friend's words, and then they widened even further once he realized what he just said.

Had Bakugou fallen for someone for the first time?? And then his eyes widened the furthest as things finally began to click within his confused mind.

He sucked into a sharp gasp, “You mean that model!?”

Bakugou simply scoffed, finally relieving his glare form the ground and focusing his hot gaze on Kirishima, “Yeah, turns out she’s actually a fucking bitch.”

Kirishima’s jaw dropped, “BAKUGOU! That’s the mother of your child! You shouldn’t—”

“She didn’t remember the night at all. I was just another fuck toy for her,”  Bakugou stood up and clenched his fists over and over again as if they itched to be slammed against something—tears welling up in his red-hot eyes, “Now tell me if the roles were reversed, how shitty it’d be then, huh?” Kirishima immediately shut his mouth from speaking up anymore as he allowed his friend to release his feelings. It wasn’t often that Bakugou built up enough to let things out this way.

Bakugou scoffed again as he began pacing the room, but Kirishima swore that it had the hint of a cry layered within it somewhere, “they might not even be mine since she likes that ‘fuck toy shit’ so much. That night meant nothing to her…” he threw his arm against the wall, effectively tearing a hole into it

Kirishima jumped a bit from the action as his mind briefly wandered to the security deposit on their lease. He pushed these thoughts away as Bakugou stiffly returned to the bed, his leg bouncing even more fervently than before.

Kirishima simply watched for a moment to allow his friend to simmer down before he spoke up very softly, “But you think it is yours though…”

Bakugou’s eyes snapped up to Kirishima’s, whose eyebrows were furrowed deeply into each other as he stared back.

In all his years of knowing Katsuki Bakugou, Kirishima would have never described his best friend with anything even resembling ‘gullible.’ His gut feeling and instinct were as sharp as ever and hardly ever wrong,

“Must be for a reason then…” he tried to look past the tears that filled up within his best friends eyes but they still left his heart feeling a little heavier than usual,  “If you think it’s yours then I’ll have your back no matter what buddy. You’re not alone in this.”

“They.”

“What…” Kirishima eyebrows folded toward the center of his expression.

“She’s having fucking twins.”

“Holy Sh…” Kirishima quickly swallowed his words as he took in the forlorn expression plastered onto his friend’s face. There was no room for him to be shocked right now. He had to be Bakuous ‘rock’ so to speak, “I-I mean congratulations!”

Meanwhile you found yourself studying the woman in the reflection of your mirror. Your eyes trailed every detail of her swollen, red eyes. Then to her hair that was fuller than you had remembered—the beauty of bottled color maybe? You danced over the way that loose strands stuck to the slimy mess of tears and mucosa that had accumulated on your cheeks.

Nasty.

A sharp chuckle came out of you, spittle following not too shortly after, but as it reached your ears it resembled more of a cry.

Okay, that’s enough self loathing for one lifetime.

And with that, you moved away from the mirror; however, as you did so, your sight basically smacked the open cabinet of liquor bottles that you were eyeing earlier.

Okay…. Maybe not quite enough self loathing. Your mouth began watering at the delectable sight. It was a desert after a delicious four course meal.  There was always room for more…

With a shake of your head, you brought your hand up to smack these thoughts out of your mind. What was wrong with you? You had been a lot of things in life, but were you really so low to bring yourself to effectively murdering your own children?

That’s what would happen if you drank, right?

You loudly groaned as more tears slipped from your eyes. You really didn’t know shit when it came to this pregnancy thing.

Your mind briefly wondered to Baby Notes Vol 1. You should probably take the time to actually read through it a little. Skimming it wouldn’t kill you.

Physically.

The sudden pounding at your door snapped you almost immediately out of your thoughts.

“Y/N?? Y/N, it’s me!”

With a final pathetic sigh you found yourself gathering up all the alcohol from the cabinets that you could into your arms and placing them in the bathtub before jotting over to the door.

As soon as you opened it Deku barged in and gripped you softly,  “I came as soon as you called! What’s up, what's wrong?! Are you okay??” His eyes frantically danced around your wet eyes and red sockets before he allowed them to roam all over you, checking for injury.

He wouldn’t ever think that Kacchan was the type of guy to put his hands on you, especially with how much he’s grown since high school, but the nagging voice in the back of Izuku’s mind fervently reminded him of all of the bruises and burns and numberless emotional scars he accumulated with he was quirkless from his childhood friend.

And here was a woman he deeply cared about-- quirkless—having to spend time alone with said childhood friend.

“What’s wrong??” Izuku found himself repeating as his hands mindlessly wiped the fluid from your cheeks. As soon as he committed the action, however, his face ran completely red and he quickly released you from his grip, so that he could get a grip of himself.

You didn’t notice his slip up, and if you did you sure as hell didn’t care at the moment. There were more pressing matters at hand. Two to be exact, “Twins,” you simply said to him as tears began flowing down your cheeks more furiously.

“Huh? Oh… Oh.” Izuku’s eyes went wide as your words sunk in. As soon as he threw you an obviously apologetic glance you threw yourself into his chest and sobbed throwing him a bit off guard as he barely caught you in his arms.

Izuku’s eyes nervously roamed around your home as if he were searching for the right thing to say to you, but as he made contact with an open pantry in your kitchen, his jaw dropped-- your alcohol pantry.

It was far less full than it had been the last time that he visited, “Y/N… What’s with the… have you been drinking?” he pulled you away from his chest and looked seriously into your eyes.

The sight honestly kind of scared you a little—like a 15-year-old being caught with their first beer-- that is, until you remembered that you were innocent as fuck, “No,” you gave a slight chuckle through your tears at the sudden surge of intimidation, “I need your help getting rid of it.”

You walked away from Izuku for a moment, leaving him confused and a bit wary of where this was going, until you returned with a hammer—leaving him even more concerned,

You were aiming for bad ass Harley Quinn vibes, but you were sure that with a dried trail of tears on your cheeks and the force smile splitting your face you came across like more of a psycho ass Harley Quinn. Furthermore, the look on Deku’s face screamed that you were correct (also it screamed ‘GET THIS GIRL IN A STRAIGHT JACKET!’).

“What are you gonna do with THAT?” Izuku squealed.

“I need to get my favorite bottles out of the house. Stat. and you're gonna help me.” At your words, Deku gave a gigantic sigh of relief, but still kept his eyes glued on the hammer in your hands. You noticed and shrugged a bit, “Smashing things is also really cathartic. I am sure you of all people can agree with that.”

“Heh… Yeah. But are you sure this is okay? I mean, I don't want to raise your blood pressure or anything because--”

“Deku. Less talk, more smash,” you threw a towel in your tub to make clean up a little easier, and so you didn't knock a chunk of tile on your bathtub. You gave Deku one last glance. He was still looking very uncertain, but you threw him a short smile before bringing the hammer down onto a bottle of tequila. The bottle instantly shattered, sending bits of glass throughout your tub. You looked up to give Deku an excited glance, and surprisingly, he returned one right back.

“See? Not so bad!” 

But you spoke too soon as the scent kicked you in the fucking nose. It was too far to turn back now. You choked down your nausea and handed Deku the Hammer, “You go ahead and get started. I’ll go get another weapon-- I mean… tool,” you corrected yourself after he sent you a terrified stare.

As you made your way back to the after grabbing your second weapon-- I mean tool a sudden thought crossed your mind. Without hesitation, you pulled your phone out and dialed in,

“Hello?”

“Yes. How may I help you today?” Dr. Yamakawa sounded from the other line.

“It’s Y/N…Y/N L/N…” you trailed off, hoping that you wouldn't have to say the ‘p word’ or anything relating to it.

His old ass better take the hint. To your dismay, his old ass did not take the hint, and a long pause of awkward silence filled the air.

You pursed your lips together in annoyance, “Mama Bakugou,” you clarified through gritted teeth, still dancing around the fact that you were a maternity patient of his.

“Ohhhhh!” He exclaimed, causing your face to fall into an expression of disappointment as he continued, “What can I do for you, Mama Bakugou?!”

This mf. You internally ground and fought the urge to facepalm, “Well. I need you to write a doctors note for me.”

“For…?”

“Work?”

“For your pregnancy? Dear, why don’t you just take maternity leave for that?”

“No.” In the moment you shook your head even knowing that he couldn't see you,  “I need a few weeks more before I can tell my job about this… situation. I’m a model. They own me through a contract and I didn't exactly add two roommates to the lease on my body...”

There was a pause on the other line, causing your heart to lurch a bit, but things soon went back to normal when he finally spoke up, “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll email you something.”

You gave one final thanks (and an internal ‘yessss’) before making your way back to the bathroom, “Hey Deku, sorry it took me so long I was just--” you froze at the sight in front of you. The shirt that Izuku wore was completely drenched in liquid and your tub had a gigantic hole on the side.

Your lips fumbled over themselves as you gawked at the spectacle. Deku could only send you a nervous laugh,

“Uh, hahaaa… Can we be done now? This… this burns,” he rapidly blinked the liquid from his eyes as he glances back down to the lot of broken bottles in your tub before throwing your one more pleading glance.

You choked down a laugh, causing it to flee from you in the form of a snort, “Someone had some pent up aggression, huh?”

In response, his face delved into a deep shade of red, “I.. uh..” he had no idea how to answer you when you looked at him like that-- your lips curved into a stunning smirk of a smile. Izuku promptly cleared his throat, “C-can I take a shower?”

“Obviously not that one-- you're totally fixing that by the way Mr. Big Shot Hero,” with a laugh you swiftly made your way to him and carefully grabbed the hammer from his grasp, looking up to see his face dive even deeper into crismon. You flashed a smile at the display. He really was adorable as hell.

You took in his face bit by bit-- his soft, blushed skin, his freckles cheeks, his round eyes. As you digested his expression you swore you could see an entire forest within his stare. Suddenly your heart pinged.

“Uh, Y/N,” Izuku interrupted your thoughts, causing your heart to throb for a different reason as you suddenly realized the proximity of the two of you. You stepped back so fast that your head spun. At least, you hoped that was why your head was spinning,

“You can use my shower.” you said very abruptly as you turned away from him,gesturing him to follow you to your bedroom.

Your bedroom. Your hear throbbed once more. Deep down, you hoped that you were about to have a heart attack or something; however, something  within you told you that that probably was not the case. You swallowed hard.

What the fuck was happening?

‘KNOCK kNOCK KNOCK’

The next morning you found yourself stirring awake to a loud succession of banging. Your eyes fluttered open for a moment only before they snapped back shut. The magnet drawing them together and you closer to sleep was much stronger than whatever noise was trying to wake you up, “Mhmfmfm…” you muttered as you rolled over on the couch and pulled the blanket over your head.

Izuku, however, was not one to ignore such an obvious noise and he found himself trudging off of the other sofa he slept on to answer whoever was banging on the door.

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!’

“Coming!” the green haired man tiredly called out as he launched himself toward the front door and swung it open.

The astounded face on the other side of the entrance soon mirrored his own.

“Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed.

Bakugou’s shocked expression very quickly contorted into one of pure rage, “What the hell is going on here?!” He screamed causing you to jolt awake as you threw the blanket over your head. You found yourself fumbling up as Bakugou continued to scream pointed to Deku, “The fuck is he here for??”

You made your way over to the two men- one seemingly terrified, and the other obviously enraged. As your head began lifting from the daze of sleep, you crossed your arms and glared at Bakugou, “He spent the night helping me with something,” you shook your head, trying to free yourself from the oncoming headache, “Hey, better question: why are you here?”

Bakugou seemed to swallow his own tongue as his jaw clenched shut, “I wanted to… uh…” he glared at the ground as he tried to find his next words. Shit. why was this so fucking hard? He should have never listened to that Shitty Hair and come over here. Bakugou scoffed to himself before redirecting his stern gaze back toward you, “Come with me.”

You could only blink.

What kind of caveman talk…You tilted your head as you fleetingly threw a confused glance toward Deku, who only shrugged in response.

Bakugou quickly grew tired of yours and Dekus silent conversation, “You wanna hang out or not??” he growled before throwing another heated finger toward Deku,  “And he can’t come.”

“I was just heading out anyways. It’s no big deal really!” Izuku defensively threw his hands up as if to show Bakugou that he was no threat at all. He went to gather a few of his belongings from the sofa he slept on before throwing Bakugou one more gaze-- this one a lot more astute.

A majority of Midoriya’s mind told him that there was nothing to worry about at all, but there was still a small section of him that couldn't shake the memories of how Bakugou treated him as a quirkless child. Izuku knew that he would never hurt you! But… just in case…

“You take care of her Kacchan,” the tone came off pleadingly but the look in his eyes was a  bit stern. You had never seen this portion of Deku before and it almost instantly caused your chest to thud, harshly reminding you of last night’s sensations. Shit.

“Don't tell me what the fuck to do, Deku. Those are my kids in there. Not yours. You just remember that,” Bakugou scoffed, causing Izuku’s expression to falter ever so slightly before he fixed it again.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer bluntness of his statement, “Kacchan, what the f--”

“I guess you’re right, Kacchan,” Izuku began, “Sorry if  I crossed a boundary,” he smiled at Bakugou-- who only huffed in return-- and quickly turned to you, making the tightness in your chest worse, “Bye, Y/N!” Izuku smiled, almost too innocently, considering the raging war in your gut at the moment.

You smiled back-- a feeble attempt at masking the inner turmoil ravaging your insides. “Peace, bb,” you gave him a weak hug before gesturing him out of your home. You threw him one final smile before shutting the door. You instantly whipped your head back around the the blonde brat behind you, “What. The. Fuck!?”

“I already told you. I want to hang out.”

“Are you fucking allergic to texting or some shit??” you yelled, “You just waltz in like you own the damn place and demand me to ‘Ohhh ahhh wo-man! come with me, wo-man’,” you renacthed his prehistoric behavior. 

Bakugou felt his muscles tighten in response to your taunting. Your loud nature, mixed with the confrontational behavior was reminding him way too much of his own mother. He swore on his life that he would never end up with  a woman like her and yet, here he was standing in front of her fucking carbon copy. The thought made him sick as he groaned in frustration,

“Shitty hair was fucking wrong!” Bakugou spat, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion as he continued, “The last thing I want to do is hang out with a bitching hag like you!!”

Your jaw dropped, “Excuse me??” You have heard pretty much every other insult in the book hurdled at you, but ‘hag’ was never one of them. You laughed, “I wasn’t a hag when you fucked me all night, huh?!”

“Yeah? I don't know what was wrong with me then. You are way different when I am not pumped full of alcohol, apparently.”

Your laughter immediately ceased, “Whatever. you came up to me and confessed your love like a raging SIMP, and now all of a sudden I’m a bitch?

“Fuck! Well, I got to know you past a pretty, stupid, fucking face!”

You blinked in shock. The unfamiliar feeling of your heart sinking into the pit of your stomach overwhelmed you as hurt surrounded your face. Practically your entire life, being beautiful has been a mask of sorts for your overwhelming failures. Still, here this man was-- practically a stranger-- seeing past your facade, looking directly into the steaming pile of shit that you truly were. Your eyes suddenly became warm as tears filled them,

“Then why the fuck are you even here, asshole?? TO PISS ME OFF?” you shouted, throwing your hands by your side and clenching them so tightly that your nails dug into your skin.

“BECAUSE  I WANTED TO KNOW ALL OF YOU!” he screamed back. The shocking words fled out from under his harsh tone and stunned you as your brain processed them. You felt your fist unfurl a bit as he continued, “I wanted to know you. Good and bad. Bitchy and not. You're carrying my children… I want to know them,” he finished, almost defeated. This tell of emotion was obviously the last thing he wanted to be doing, you could tell.

Still, it meant a  lot for some reason that he felt that he could do this with you “Oh,” you breath out, unable to articulate much else.

“Oh?!” he angrily repeated. Bakugou felt his face shrivel in disgust. He just poured out his being to you once more for you to trample on it like a fucking gymnast mat. However, as Bakugou formed his mouth to say something else, you halted him,

“Go… have a seat,” you gestured to the couch, blinking the accumulating liquid in your eyes away. The blond could only shoot a lone eyebrow up in response, causing you to sigh in exasperation,  “Well, Are you just gonna stand there looking like that, or what?” he gave you one final scoff before making his way to one of your couches and seating himself comfortably, propping one of his feet on your coffee table as he glared at the non functioning television.

“Welcome, I guess. I am sure you’ll have no issue making yourself comfortable,” you deadpanned, eyeing his propped up legs,  “I’ll go make us some… tea?” you suggested , but no answer came from him, “Tea it is.”

You rolled your eyes before trudging away. You always loved green tea, but for some reason the smell had been killing you lately, so you opted for peppermint tea instead. It was inferior by, far, but it matched the inferior, pathetic life that you had adopted recently.

Jeez. How much self deprecation can you fit into one week? Would this have any effect on the babies? If so, they’d probably come out singing RnB or some shit in the maternity ward. They’d have already stressed dyed hair and an entire Tumblr dedicated to sad aesthetics before they reached their first birthday, for god's sake.  

You vehemently shook your head to once again get rid of the oncoming headache that snuck in with these disgusting thoughts, “So Kacchan!” you called out as you walked back to the living room, “What do you wanna know?”

“Don’t call me that,” he simply barked.

“What?”

“Don’t call me that name. I fucking hate it.”

You snorted and took a seat next to his glaring figure. You tried not to notice how he shifted further away from you as you sat down, “I am sure Deku disliked being called worthless his whole life too,” you smirked up at him, “I bet he fucking hated it.”

The atmosphere seemed to once more shift into a much heavier tone after your statement and the room fell quiet for a few beats. Bakugou’s small glare morphed into a much more forced one. It was as if he was trying to use the glare to hide another feeling, you noticed.

Finally, he spoke, “How much do you know.”

You tilted your head into another shrug, “Enough to know that you probably hate the fact that I am quirkless.”

His face contorted into one of pure disgust as the glareful mask he wore faded away like yesterday’s lunch.  “I don’t give a fuck,” he argued, but the look you sent him showed no sign of believing it. Bakugou’s disgust deepened, but he made sure to control it enough to where you didn't know that it was directed towards himself.

“Oh really? Let’s see if you can keep that same energy when one of your kids pops out without that flashy quirk of yours,” Of course his face fell, just as you suspected it would. Just like it had for multiple other men you had told.

Most men’s pride utterly shrivels into dust as soon as the pretty girl in front of them-- the one that they fantasize about having a dream life with-- ends up telling them that they are quirkless. As soon as the words fall out of your mouth, the men's dreamy gaze effectively shatters alongside their hopes and dreams concerning you.

Nobody wants to pass weakness onto their children.

“You know what? I think I’ll go first,” you snapped him out of the uncomfortable, uncharacteristic silence, and he gave you an irritated, questioning glance, “You wanted to play 20 questions with me, or whatever. No limitations, okay? And I have the first question for you,” you explained before sending him a challenging gaze, “How could someone so full of hate truly aspire to be a hero?”

You expected him to blow up at you-- to scream, and yell and argue that you were wrong.

Yet.

The slightly apologetic, yet stern look on his face threw you for an absolute loop, “I wanted to win.” he simply answered. Somehow his matter of a factness was worse for you than any furious defensive scenario you had conjured in your mind, but as you went to open your mouth with a roll of your eyes, he halted you,

“That was when I was younger, “ he sharply clarified, “I wanted to win more than anything. To be better than everyone else—and that hasn’t changed but there's more to it now. I have to protect the people I care about—like my idiot roommates—I want to make sure we all come home safe by the end of the night.”

Once again he had thrown you off with a surprisingly normal non-caveman response, “That was actually…”

“My turn,” Bakugou abruptly cut you off, “How many men the you fuck this past few months?”

Your jaw dropped. 

And back to Neanderthal you mother fucking guess! “Are you fucking kiddin—”

“You said no limitations,” he gruffly stated.

You bit your tongue and shot him a glare that could match his own before giving a sharp sigh, “Four during the last year. You were the last and the only one during the month I… conceived,” you swallowed as the word left a bitter taste in your mouth, “My turn. What about you?”

“What.”

“How many women the past year?”

“Why the hell does it matter?” Bakugou argued. Your eyes shot down to his body as it shifted around even further from you. From his body language you could tell that his answer was sure to be outrageously high.

He was an extremely attractive guy after all. Those rippling arms were nothing to fuck around with. His red hot eyes could melt steel beams with a passing glance. The chisel of his permanently hardened expression could slice through even the most secured of panties. 

Yes. and there was no denying that he was a sex god in his own right.

It also didn't help that his temperament sucked, so you doubted he had had many long term relationships. He had all of the ingredients of a man whore stirring within him.

“I’m just curious,” you shrugged.

Bakugou threw his glare away from you for a moment as he contemplated on whether or not to answer your stupid question. He had his own questions to ask you still so he guessed that he didn't really have a choice if he wanted his answers,“...One.”

Your jaw dropped, “Seriously?” as his face fell into a furious shade of red you were smacked with a sudden realization,

“Kacchan, did you... lose your virginity to m...?” He glared even further away from you, but you could still see his ears falling even deeper into red-- effectively giving you your answer, “Oh my…” he trailed off. No wonder he was so fucking head over heels for you! Through your discomfort a horribly timed joke flew past your lips, 

“You knocked her up on the first try huh? You’ve got some super swimmers,” you half laughed, but Bakugou obviously didn't find anything funny about it as he snarled angrily as you,

“Shut up!” he barked, throwing a pillow at you, “My turn. What’s up with you and that shitty Deku?”

The pillow hit you, but it was really his question that had smacked you in the face. Your chest thudded, and you prayed to whoever was listening that he couldn't see the racing of your heart, “He’s just a friend! A really good friend to me. Probably my first actual friend ever,” you said this as a joke, but obviously forgot who you were talking to.

“You didn’t make any in high school?” Bakugou’s face twisted up disbelievingly.

“Never went. Couldn’t afford the tuition...” now it was you who was uncomfortably shifting from him. 

“Your parents didn’t help you out?”

“Slow down there, buckaroo,” you laughed, but his face remained as stern as ever as you continued, “That’s like three questions In a row for you. My turn.”

Luckily he caught the hint and didn't press upon the subject any further.

Through the night, you found out a lot of things about him. He was actually younger than you by a few years at twenty years old. His parents were both fashion designers (probably the biggest fucking shock to you considering his choice of black shirts and flannels) and that he was working on making his own hero agency since he had already climbed up the ranks in Japan.

Your game, however, was cut short by the growling of your stomach.

Bakugou almost immediately stood up, surprising you as he walked to your kitchen. Well, you did say ‘make yourself at home’ but this was a little upfront wasn't it? He soon yelled to you from the kitchen as you sat in shock still, “What do you have to eat in this shit hole?!”

Shit hole? You glance around at the decorations and clean atmosphere that you pride yourself on. That jerk. Your house was not a shit hole! “You can eat shit if you want. I’m not hungry.”

“The hell are you talking about? I just heard your stomach growling.”

You shrugged, “Just indigestion. I get a lot of stomach issues with these things inside of me,” the sudden clanging of pots and pan in your kitchen startled you,  “What the hell are you doing??” you called out before marching to your kitchen.

You found him rummaging through your cabinets, stopping momentarily to judgmentally eye your still plentiful liquor cabinet for a moment before moving on, “You can starve yourself all you fucking want, but you're not fucking starving my kids.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his accusation, “I’m not starving.”

“You think I’m fucking blind?”

“I have to stay in shape for work. Just like you I am sure,” you walked up to him and grabbed a bicep for demonstration, but he quickly threw your hand away from him as his face fell into a bout of shock. He quickly regained himself,

“Whatever,” he grunted before swinging open your refrigerator.

“What are y—Hey!” you yelped as he began haphazardly throwing food onto one of your counters.

“Is all you have in here rabbit food? Jesus fucking Christ,” he ignored your cries and began throwing certain items together and heating up a pot of water.

You couldn't help but blink at the display. He seemed pretty natural in the kitchen and that in itself was unnatural considering his caveman persona, “You... cook?” you felt uneasy.

“You don’t?”

Honestly, your diet consisted of salads and ramen since you were 15, so cooking wasn't a necessity. You reluctantly shook your head at him.

He looked completely disappointed and disgusted with you but, hey, what else is new? Bakugou scoffed, “Well you’re gonna have to learn how now. Pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes at him. If you wanted fucking Gordon Ramsey bitching you around in the kitchen you would have clicked on that stupid ad that always popped up on your Youtube. Then again, Bakugou was more of a Guy Fieri with that spiky hair of his.

Whatever.

You guessed learning how to cook one meal wouldn't be too terrible,  

“What are you stirring the water for if you didn’t put anything in it yet?”

“It helps it heat up faster, idiot.”

“Do you actually throw the noodles on the wall to see if they’re finished?”

Bakugou threw you a frown, “If you’re a fucking dumbass,” he said, moving you aside as he began stirring a saucer filled with vegetables. He completely disregarded your yelp as he moved you as a parade of thoughts bombarded his mind.

He would have to come over more and keep you and his kids fed if you truly didn’t know how to cook. He scoffed and his stirring hand more slightly more erratically with frustration. What kind of grown woman didn't know how to cook pasta?

His thoughts were halted by a loud squelch that sounded through the air. He immediately threw his gaze up to the wall in front of his face and his expression fell at the sight. He growled, snapping his gaze back toward you by the pot of pasta, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” his furious glare danced between you and the wet noodle that stuck to the wall.

“I wanted to see if it would actually stick! Don’t get your balls in a twist, it was one noodle!”

“So damn wasteful,” Bakugou ground his teeth as he frustratedly scrapped the starchy pasta off of your wall. He opened his mouth to tell you just this, but immediately snapped it back shut as he felt something being thrown at his head, “that better not be what I think it is…” he snarled through his teeth as he eyed food dangling from one of the spines of his hair.

“Don’t worry, Kacchan. It’s not a worm,” you laughed, but your giddiness was soon cut off as a hot noodle was thrown back in your direction. You could only blink as it stuck itself on your nose.

“Hmph,” the corners of Bakugou’s lips slowly curled into a smirk, “It’s a good look on you, noodle face,” You laughed but once again was cut off. The brief sound of his laugh coinciding with your own shocked you.

His smile slowly died down as he caught wind of you gawking at him. He cleared his throat, “Are you done being a child? I’m ready to enjoy my good ass cooking.”

However, you didn't answer him as you once again found a smile creeping onto your face. He rolled his eyes and began making himself a plate of food, but he quickly grew tired of you smiling at him like some bimbo,

“What?!” He snapped, “You want another noodle to the face.”

You shook your head as you shuffled past him to serve yourself a plate, “No.. just you have a nice laugh.”

He scoffed, “That all you're eating?” he completely disregarded your comment but you decided to let it die too,

“I don’t see you with any food on your plate,” you shrugged, “I’d be more worried about yourself if I were you,” you winked at him before setting down at the table.

The night went pretty well after that. So well, in fact, that the two of you decided to have “parental meetings” every few days so that Bakugou could teach you how to cook. You ended up learning how to make 10 more dishes within the next three weeks.

Bakugou and you didn't exactly become close, but there were far less screaming matches than there had been in your first few meetings. You still didn't know him very well, but he wasn't necessarily a stranger anymore.

It was… nice.

The next check up came very quickly because of your lack of employment and your dates-- err um… “parental meetings” with Bakugou.

“Your twins should be about the size of avocados now! We’ll check again with a routine ultrasound. We do have the DNA tests in for you all so I’ll just go and run for those real quick.. well walk briskly. You don’t do an awful lot of running at my age.”

“I don’t do an awful lot of running now,” you joked, and Bakugou sent you a stern glare that screamed, ‘don’t encourage him.’ you shrugged as the doctor walked out of the room.

It was silent for what seemed like forever. You and Bakugou still weren't very good at sparking conversations, but eventually he spoke up as you laid back on the exam table, “You're really fucking showing now.”

You brows instantly came together, high fiving each other in your state of being roasted, “Thanks...” you deadpanned.

The look on your face sent a wave of hurt through the blond’s heart.

What the hell. It was like he felt your hurt. For the first time in a long time, Bakugou actually regretted his choice of words. He glared at the ground as he attempted to change the subject, “You’ve been eating, right?”

“How else Would I be sitting here, looking fat and talking to you, Kacchan.”

“I told you don’t call me that,” he paused, as if he were really considering his next statement, “Call me Katsuki,” he finally dragged out.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Kacchan.”

Just as Bakugou open his mouth the no doubt scream at you, Dr. Yamakawa entered the room, 

“Mama Bakugou! We have some really good news. Everything seems fine with the twins according to the DNA testing. One is a little small right now, but it’s completely normal for there to be a dominant twin so to speak. No genetic abnormalities or health concerns,” you saw Bakgou visibly stiffen at this before relaxing as the doctor continued, “’Cept for you.”

You shook your head, blinking heavily as if you’d just been punched in the brow, “Me?”

“You do have a concerning BMI—you tend to lean a little towards underweight. I understand you are in the profession of modeling correct,” he said very, curtly, “You need to add more calories to your daily intake. You wont need to ‘eat for three” as they say, but you do need to put on some substantial pounds or you will risk a premature birth..”

You had no fucking idea what to say to that. ‘Nice?’ ‘Cool beans.’ ‘fucking just give me the mother of the year award already!’ You felt your chest tighten and suddenly you realized you hadn't been breathing. You sucked in abruptly, causing the doctor to take a step towards you,

“You're looking a little flushed there, Mama Bakugou.”

“Well how else is she supposed to respond when you tell her like that, old man?!” Bakugou snapped, causing both you and the doctor to gawk at him. 

“Kacchan! What the fuck don’t talk to him like that, jerk!”

Bakugou scoffed, throwing his glare, much more pouty this time-- to the jar of cotton balls on the counter of the office.

“It wouldn't help either of you to sugar coat this, son,” the doctor sighed, “You have made it this far along in her pregnancy. Miscarriage is substantially less likely but if you want to give these babies a better chance, I’d suggest higher caloric intake.”

Needless to say, Bakugou did not leave the doctor's office that day a very pleasant man. He would angrily stalk ahead of you a for a few moments before pausing and grumbling about how ‘fucking slow’ you were as you caught up before the cycle would start all over again. You could only take this for so long, however,

“What!?” you yelled suddenly as the grumbling phase of his cycle began once more, “Will you stop fucking brooding already and speak your mind—”

He instantly snapped his face towards your own to stare into your eyes. You fumbled back a bit as the intense vermilion bore into you. You opened your mouth to speak but his serious expression exclaimed something before yours could,

“I wanna move in with you.”

You paused. You couldn't have fucking heard that right.

He… wants to...

“What…?” you mouthed.

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