#He's gonna smooch em

[moeblob]

You know. I have Thoughts now about Olric.

I originally wanted him added as a romance option (as do many others) and I think I changed my mind! I love him and he's amazing and supportive and he likes rocks but what I think so far that I really super love for him? Is how friendly he is and so far (I'm not far) he has zero romance related lines. Like he's not a romance option, but looking at the other NPCs (the innkeeper/wife, the general store owner/wife, the retired socialite who talks about past flings) I think Olric stands out as possibly the only one I can hope for aroace representation.

Let this guy just exist with the most positive vibes ever because he's just a good guy with positive vibes for everyone.

[ratatatastic]

quite frankly im so shocked that roddy would be most excited to return to his fatherland go to finland. truly.

"Is there any of your non-Finnish teammates who've picked up some Finnish? Has Evan Rodrigues learned any words just because he's played with you and Eetu a lot?" "No, he thinks he can—some words in Finnish but he's probably the guy who thinks he knows the most Finnish and probably knows the most Finnish of the guys in the team but..." "He's gotta say 'kiitos' after that pass last night! I mean, that was a nice setup!" "Yeah, yeah, exactly."

honestly im SHOCKED that mr hot rod would ever be named in relation to finland.

who couldve forseen any of this coming? like honestly? surprising. shocking. my gasteds have been flabbered.

we live in a society truly

THERES MORE FROM MR HALF FINNISH RODDY WHOS IN EVERY FINNS BUSINESS

at this point it's become deeply comical... making history in finland... continuing to score goals despite not being in finland anymore precisely because of the robes... "im gonna have to keep it going then huh?"... sweet mary and joseph

[tswwwit]

Could we get a taste of that new work you started…👀

Heck, have the whole thing! This is for that AU of an AU where Ford captured Bill/Bill was his familiar, and Dipper freed him, like an idiot. Here's the first fic and here's some needed backstory.

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Dipper leans over to let his fingers trail through the water. It’s oddly warm to the touch. Bill’s voice carries, weird and echoing, over the river and through the empty city.

Which Dipper’s ignoring, for the moment.

Not like he’s missing much; he can't understand the lyrics anyway. Bill’s demonic singing continues over his inattention. 

This dream is distinctly… not a good one. On the surface, at least; Dipper’s not terrified, but only because of his company.

He also might be a little jaded at this point.

Truth be told, he’s visited a lot of dreams at this point. They’re Bill’s go-to meetup spots. Though Dipper hasn’t really been the biggest fan, so far, he’s never been in any danger. That he knows of. Bill’s made sure of that.

Bringing Dipper to a dream that lacks his idea of 'pizazz', or gore, or immediately evident monsters is a new tactic - but at least it’s not a bad one.

It’s eerie, for sure. The silence beyond Bill’s yodeling adds an extra layer of ‘creepy’ - but the boat is nice, the company’s familiar. Even the water’s warm against the tips of his fingers, leaving clean, bright lines in the river -

Dipper yanks his arm back with a start, and he shakes the water off rapidly. Some of the red drops leave spots on his shirt and pants.. 

The broken surface of the water bleeds bright red. Like wounded flesh.

Dipper grimaces. He’d back up, but there’s no space in the gondola.

And - as a bonus - it looks like it’s attracting more glimpses of half-formed shadows. Of course. Dipper can only catch them out of the corners of his eye - dim, too-lanky shapes he never fully sees through the fog in the alleyways - but maybe it’s best to ignore those, too.

Still not a bad dream, necessarily. Things could be way worse.

But like everything to do with Bill, it’s unnerving. With a side of ‘constantly feeling you're being watched’. 

“Ahem,” Said triangle clears a nonexistent throat. Bill thumps the stick on the bottom of the river, the one he’s been using to guide them along the city canals. “Hello! Listen up, sapling, I’m serenading here.” 

Dipper shuffles around until he finds a shaky seat back in the gondola. Bill doesn’t bother. He doesn’t have to worry about balance, with his floating in midair thing. 

“This is… interesting.” Dipper says. Bill brightens up, lower eyelid rising. So that’s a start - but he’s not sure how to follow it. He tucks his arms around his legs instead. “Why are we-”

“Vide stellas quae tremunt!” Bill continues his song without any notice of the question. Dipper tries waving at him, but he’s already closed his eye.. “Amoris et spei!”

No explanation, then. Dipper rolls his eyes.

God forbid Bill not have attention on him for ten seconds.

“I sense,” Bill says, tapping under his eye thoughtfully. “That you might not be appreciating this, kid.” Said eye rolls in its golden socket. “Why am I not surprised!”

At Dipper’s shrug, Bill grumbles something under his breath, and pushes the gondola along. Silent, for a moment.

Dipper shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Absent the music, this place is extremely eerie. There’s a light fog on the canals, and he doesn’t dare look into the alleys.

In a way, he understands why Bill’s like this. Needing company. Demanding attention. Being demanding is part and parcel of his demonic nature, and he was also stuck in a prison for thirty freakin’ years. That alone would make someone deranged. 

Bill was just insane even before that.

Thankfully, irrepressible as always, Bill starts humming some other tune. Dipper’s glad he started again; he must be in a better mood. Bill’s huge eye narrows slightly in contemplation.

Then he lets out a low, self-satisfied cackle, and rubs two hands together. A third arm keeps steering the boat.

Dipper rolls his own eyes. 

Yeah, this is definitely going to pan out like Bill expects. Because everything Bill’s done has worked out great for him.

Bill said he had plans for Dipper, but he’s taking his sweet time getting to them. It barely seems like there is one, most nights.

Whatever he’s after, it might work better if he focused on his goal.

Instead, he’s making Dipper focus on him.

Every time they’ve met up - and it’s been months - Bill’s clearly making some kind of effort. He’s hinted at a deeper truth, dozens of times. He taunts, and he talks, and even teaches on a whim. His methods are obscure and bizarre, they seem out of place - but Dipper gets the sense that Bill genuinely thinks it’s important. 

He must really be distracted by his ego, because so far? His ‘plan’ doesn't seem all that sinister. It’s like he’s barely started it, or it’s genuinely not-terrible - which is why Dipper willingly joins Bill in his dreams. 

Okay. That, plus a certain amount of sheer, idiotic curiosity. Dipper’s not perfect. 

But he knows Bill’s trying to show him something. 

Maybe if Dipper got it - whatever ‘it’ is -  then he’d be able to thwart the plan. But until he finally gets it, or it comes to fruition or… Until something really evil happens, he guesses, then they’re just going to keep… 

Meeting up? Hanging out? Dipper’s not sure which phrase fits right. 

Judging by how it’s gone so far, that ‘until’ might be a while. 

So long as Bill’s just reveling in attention, though - there’s no reason to stop him screwing himself over. Freedom seems like a big deal to him, and if the last few months are any indication? He’s been enjoying it immensely.

Feeding Bill’s ego a little can’t hurt, and it’s. Not bad, really.

Dipper just. Doesn’t have a lot of people to talk with who aren’t family, and Bill’s always up for a conversation. Even if it mostly devolves into bickering about stupid things, and Bill’s awful, awful jokes -  Dipper’s finding he doesn’t mind that much. Bill’s quick-witted, weirdly charming for a person who’s a shape, and his magical knowledge has a depth that’s breathtaking. Even if it comes in an annoying golden package.

Whatever works, works, though. As long as Bill’s eager to hang out, then Dipper might as well indulge him.

After all, Bill could be up to worse things than bothering Dipper. And when it comes right down to it - he’s kind of fun. In an insane, demonic way. 

Dipper’s still cautious. He’d be an idiot not to be. 

But so far, Bill’s keeping his word. 

Come to think of it, the plan must be one of the reasons Bill’s still here, in this dream. He’s making sure this isn’t a nightmare, while he tries to convey his… something. Possibly in a manner that won’t completely chase Dipper off. But if he can figure it out, before Bill manages to be super evil - 

Dipper tucks his arms around himself tighter in the chill of the fog. He shakes his head to clear it. 

This is novel, and interesting - 

And very, very dangerous. 

He’s got to stay wary. Reminding himself that Bill is absolutely insane.

“What, you chilly or something?” Bill sets fists on his angles. He was humming for a while, but now he looks curious. He even floats in a bit, while the stick keeps steering the gondola without a pilot. “This is what you get for having a crappy endothermic system.”

“Shut up.” Dipper tucks his legs together too. The temperature, if anything, seems to have dropped by a few more degrees. “Didn’t you make this dream? Can’t you control the-”

“Ahem. Unlike some amateurs, I know how to set the atmosphere.” Bill shuts his eye, somehow managing to look self-assured without a face. He wags a chiding finger at Dipper, floating close enough to flick his nose. “You wanna keep your empty nightmares on refrigerator settings. Fits the whole ‘eternally preserved’ theme.”

“And how does singing bad opera fit the ‘theme’?“ Dipper smacks Bill on the side. Dumb move, it only hurts his fingers - though Bill's not cold, like the air. It makes him pause. “...Hey. That wasn’t in Italian.”

“When in Rome, speak as the Romans do! And they were chatting in Latin before your forebears had forebears.” Bill shrugs, nonchalant. “It's the source of Romance languages!”

A minor detail. One Bill’s using to avoid the question - and he only resorts to being a pedant when he’s caught. 

Dipper narrows his eyes -

Then seizes the opportunity.

And the triangle. 

As Bill thuds against Dipper's chest, he wraps his arms around him tight. Bill flails a bit, muttering something impossibly muffled against Dipper's chest. How does that happen, he doesn't even have a mouth. Dipper decides to ignore the impossible, yet again. Squeezing Bill a little harder, like he could crumple him like tinfoil. Knowing that he won't.

Man Bill’s warm; radiating off him like a personal, annoying space heater. Dipper can already feel the sensation returning to his fingers, gripped tight on Bill's edges.

And frowns. “Wait. I thought this was supposed to be nightmare Venice, not Rome.”

“Cripes, what a pedant.” Bill groans, the hypocrite. Dipper can’t see his eye - he’s rotated it around to face forward - but he’s sure he’s rolling it as well. He floats lower in Dipper’s lap, and one raised finger jabs the soft underside of Dipper’s jaw. “I bet you’re a real hit at parties. I couldn’t take you anywhere!”

Bullshit, Bill’s arrogant enough to take anyone anywhere, and be smug about it. 

And if he’s trying to pretend he’s not in a good mood, maybe he should stop glowing so bright.

Dipper squeezes him a little tighter. Bill’s been caught, he can’t escape - and while he hasn’t totally settled down, he’s letting his legs dangle over Dipper’s and only kicked him once. It was barely a tap.

“I get it. You’ve never spent much time in Italy.” And Dipper smiles. This’ll get to him. “Bill Cipher claims to be the dream demon extraordinaire - but he never managed to bother a Pope.”

The sharp, indignant noise Bill makes is so, so sweet. Dipper jostles the top hat with his cheek, just to bug him more, and listens to the ensuing weird burble with a grin.

In the end, Dipper gets a thoroughly informative rant about the intricacies of both Italy and Rome and parts of an empire that he’s pretty sure never existed. Bill’s alight with indignance - and amusement. Possibly at his own bullshit.

Dipper really, really wishes he had a notebook with him. 

Talking with Bill is always fascinating, and infuriating. Half of this has to be bullshit. Some of it might be true. Dipper… should really check out more history books. Maybe then he’d have more chances to call out Bill’s bullshit, with facts. For the moment, questioning him on every aspect pokes enough holes to help sort out the fiction.

It’s an easy conversation, and a long one. Bickering with Bill takes ages, makes Dipper struggle for words, he’s usually a little annoyed - and it’s oddly pleasant. In that Dipper doesn’t have to be pleasant. Or even nice. Bill absorbs it all with infinite confidence, and shoots back with pointed ripostes. 

“-And that’s why garum was crappy, and ya shouldn’t miss it.” Bill finishes. He pats Dipper’s arm twice, and, reluctantly, is released. He floats up above the gondola as it drifts, slowly towards a dock. “But I think we’re getting off topic.”

“How? We-” Always argue, Dipper was about to say. That was before he stood up; now he’s thinking better of it. “Shit.”

He tries to balance as the gondola shakes; some of the blood-water laps over the sides. Crap, arguing with Bill is one thing, but he didn’t want to literally rock the boat. 

Bill floats up further, watching the sloshing - and starts laughing. 

Dipper glares, but the stupid tiny canoelike thing is shaking under him, he grips the sides. Since they’re next to the dock, he smacks a palm on it. It steadies things, barely.

“Pfft, loser.” Bill’s lower eyelid is raised in amusement. He watches Dipper struggle for another moment - then laughs harder, before holding out a hand. “C’mon already!” 

Dipper takes the offer, absurdly grateful. Bill’s hand is very warm, like the rest of him.The black void of the not-flesh is a strange non-texture under his palm, steadying him before he falls. Dipper fumbles for a moment before holding onto it tight. Even though the boat is about to capsize, Bill’s got him. 

Bill brightens up and squeezes his hand back. Not hard, surprisingly, maybe a little teasingly, and it makes something flip around inside Dipper’s chest.

Bill hauls Dipper bodily up onto the dock, with surprising strength and a cackling laugh. Dipper feels a quick slap just above his hip as he briefly stumbles. 

Crap, that was fast. He almost backpedaled into the canal again from sheer surprise - but his grip on Bill means he only lent back for a moment.

Bill, the asshole, thinks it was amazingly funny. He’s leaning forward, another sixty degree angle in the air.

Dipper flips him off, heart racing fast. He wonders how Bill managed - but, right. He’s a demon, of course. Physics don’t matter. Those weird, noodlelike arms defy them on the daily.

One of said arms prods Dipper in the stomach. “Man, kid, talk about clumsy!” Bill’s still chuckling. His surface flickers with amusement, eyelid raised in a smile. “I shoulda let you go for a dunk!” Then a thoughtful rub under the single, narrowed eye. “Though I do like you less dissolved. At the moment.”

Dipper narrows his eyes. His valiant attempt to crush Bill’s hand in his own fails at the complete lack of bones inside.

Bill’s insane and weird and clever. He’s the strangest being Dipper’s ever met - but whatever his motives are? It’s - so far - been fine.

Dipper’s not dunked. Or dissolved. Hell, if anything, he should always be more terrified. With what Bill does. With what Bill is.

Best of all, that wasn’t a handshake. Even though Bill’s still holding on, it’s not in the right position for one. Interlaced fingers don’t count, he’s sure.

Dipper struggles at the touch, and gets his hand back, eventually. He wipes it on his pants, trying to shake off the thought.

It definitely wasn’t a shake, because they didn’t make a deal. If they had, Bill would be gloating about it. Dipper can put that single heartstopping moment behind him.

He’s still thinking about it as Bill leads him through the city. The conversation is mostly Bill rambling, their usual light bickering. 

Dipper may be wandering around a nightmare, but with his palm flat on the warm surface of Bill’s back, at least he knows nothing else is going to freak him out. Bill would get huffy about not being the center of attention.

“So whatd’ya think of the main dream? Took the blueprint off a guy with agoraphobia.” Bill tugs one one of the passing door handles - which doesn’t move. When Dipper looks closer, it’s literally painted on. “No indoors, anywhere!”

“It’s kind of…” Dipper thinks about it. Nearly silent streets, cold and misty. Even if Bill wasn’t here, it’d be… “Empty.”

“Uh, duh, that’s the point.”

“No, I mean,” Dipper scrunches his face up, trying to think of - he isn’t much for horror movies, but exposure to Bill has shown him enough. “There’s no ominous signs of who was here, either. Like, I’d think there would be… half-eaten meals on the cafe tables, or, like.” He snaps his fingers, trying to think of remnants - “A single, empty child’s shoe.”

"Oh, very nice! I like how you think, sapling.” Bill taps Dipper’s temple, twice, before patting his cheek. Dipper leans away before he can pinch it.  “Even if it’s not your thing, you always got something going on in that bonebox, don’tcha?”

Dipper just shrugs. He can’t not think. A dream demon liking what he does think is… morally questionable. 

And, maybe, kind of neat.

“We don’t see enough of each other these days. A few hours at a time is nothing.” Bill continues, waving over the scenery. “Not that I’m not a fan of you letting me whisk ya off  in your dreams - but what about reality?”

“Nope.” Dipper drops his arm, folding both of them over his chest. “Not happening.”

Freeing Bill was…. Arguably morally gray. Dipper doesn’t regret it, but Bill is an asshole, and Ford was convincing. The main advantage of Bill’s freedom came with their deal, Bill was in a terrible position to bargain.

The second best part is not having Bill on Earth anymore. He’s still dangerous, but not immediately so. 

To reality. No so much for people hanging out with him. 

“C’mon, kid. We’d have way more time together when you aren’t conked out!” Bill sidles closer. One thin arm wraps a couple times around Dipper’s waist, while the other waves broadly over the scenery. “A full Europe trip, just for two.” A brief pause. “Not that you’d get this kinda quality in your mundane version of that continent, but whatever.”

“If you say so.” Dipper hedges, that sound extremely subjective. Bill blinks at him with genuine surprise; it makes Dipper fidget for a second “I haven’t been out of Gravity Falls in-” Hell. When was the last time he went back to Piedmont. Or anywhere else. “...It’s been a while.”

Bill takes another second to stare. Then sighs. His enormous eye rolls around and around in its socket, in yet another exaggeration. 

“Well, think about it, kid. One of these days, we’ll get to it. Me and you, on Earth!” Bill prods him firmly in the chest, eyelid raised in a smile. “We could take a long stroll through the streets, check out a couple cafes, crush a couple local governments- Then teleport over to a boulangerie for pastries! It’d be a great time!”

Insisting on reality. Again. Dipper holds back a sigh. 

Letting Bill into the world - even with the compromises Dipper managed, is a horrible idea. 

But right now Bill’s off in his own little world - literally, in a way - and that concept isn’t one he’s going to accept. Not the tactic to take to argue against it.

“I guess it’s a nice thought. Or fantasy, anyway.” Dipper pats Bill twice on the edge. “You’d stand out a little too much.”

Even Dipper needed a couple weeks before he got used to Bill. He’s a giant demonic triangle made of maybe-gold. Bill Cipher, in reality, would send pretty much everyone screaming, or reeling in horrified awe. 

Probably, Bill would love that. Right up until it meant no cafe service.

“Yeah, yeah, most humans have no taste. Doesn’t mean it’d ruin the occasion!” Bill wags a chiding finger. His arm slips from its loop around Dipper so he can rest a fist on his edge. “What’d’ya think shapeshifting’s for?”

“For wha-” Dipper starts - then jerking back, as Bill’s form changes. 

Dipper turns his head away, shielding his eyes against the bright light. And grimacing.

This demonic drama queen. The light isn't typical for his changes, he’s doing it for show. Whatever Bill’s turning into, he hopes this shape won’t have too many limbs, or infinite teeth - or  worse, pick him up again - 

Trying to smack Bill is always an option, though. Especially when he’s trying to be dramatic. Dipper lands the punch easily, operating on muscle memory -

Into something warm. And firm - but much softer than gold.

Bill starts chuckling. There’s a slow, rhythmic motion under Dipper’s knuckles.

Already, it’s far from the worst Dipper’s had to deal with. Bill’s not on fire, or scaled, and there’s no huge tongues licking out between his tiers. He’s not even slimy this time, though certainly more…. organic. 

Dipper opens his mouth to tell Bill off, blinking rapidly - 

“So! What’d’ya think, sapling?” Bill’s grin is wide and white and close. Too close, his sudden surge in makes Dipper lean back on instinct. “Ya like the look?”

Dipper stares.

“Eh?” Bill prompts again. Now he’s wiggling his eyebrows.When he doesn’t get a response - he sticks out a tongue - a pink, human tongue, Dipper watches it flick back in. “Where’s the insult?”

Right. New shape. Bill… wants feedback, something to stroke his immense ego. Dipper should….  

Say something. Probably.

He looks again at that face. A human face. Bill’s standing there, intimidating; he has eyebrows and a nose and white teeth in a wide smile on this - Dipper looks down, then slowly up again - human form, leaning over him.

“Um,” Dipper says, eloquently. He does another once over, lacking for words, until he meets that single golden eye. And swallows, once. “...Hi.”

“Not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” Bill continues.  He adjusts the collar of his shirt, smoothing back his hair - then digging a finger into his fleshy cheek, and twisting it. “I think it’s a pretty accurate translation!”

Dipper nods. He opens his hand by fractions, until his palm rests flat on Bill’s chest, then thinks better and grips the shirt instead.

Okay. This. Is a new one. 

Bill’s face - he has a face - is all angles, with a pleased, smug, too-wide grin. He thankfully still has only one eye, otherwise Dipper wouldn’t know where to stare - and he's very much up in Dipper’s personal space. Warmth still radiates off him, just like before.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bill says dryly. He grasps Dipper's side, just near his hip. His hand is bigger now, and - and Dipper shakes his head to clear it.  “So! You and me, strolling through the city-”

Bill rambles on, per usual. The familiarity is steadying. Dipper squinches his eyes shut - then blinks, but nope. The scenery hasn’t changed.

This is. Normal. For Bill. Because this is Bill, showing off again. They can move on. 

Will move on, because Bill’s looking like he wants to continue their walk. Dipper should. Follow him. That’s the right thing to do.

The first step is turning away. Easily done, if he stops gripping Bill’s shirt so tight. Forcing himself to loosen his hold works - but now he’s touching Bill’s chest again, and that isn’t great. Though it’s very solid, like Bill - because it is Bill, in a different shape, he needs to remember that. The shirt is soft, though when he strokes it. Maybe silk? Dipper -

Should stop touching it, what the hell.

Bill keeps rambling, arm warm against Dipper’s back. Dipper nods out of habit, stepping forward as Bill leads them on through the city.

Dipper forces his arms to his sides, holding them rigidly in place. He’s keeping them to himself. Thankfully, Bill doesn’t seem to notice anything odd about that.

Not that anything is, but. It might make things weird if he did think that.

Which means Dipper can relax, if only a bit. Demonic self-absorption has some benefits after all. 

This is only another strange shape Bill’s taken. He’s turned into way weirder ones, for way longer - and for dumber reasons. Whatever prank he’s pulling is - Anyway, it’s only lasted maybe two minutes, it won’t be much longer. If that’s even how long it’s been. 

Come to think of it, how long has Dipper been asleep? Dream time and real time never entirely track, and from this perspective they’ve been hanging out for a few hours. Longer than their typical meetup, since either Bill has ‘business’, or Dipper wakes up. Usually the latter. Eight hours real time is more like two or three in the dream realm - 

…Which might be why Bill complained about it.

Bill keeps commenting on the city. Gesturing around. Possibly describing how conquerable it is, as he guides Dipper along on the midnight nightmare stroll, 

Dipper isn’t sure what, exactly, the current topic is. He isn’t paying much attention. 

He rubs at his forehead. He doesn’t feel much more centered, even with Bill’s arm around his waist again. Still warm, and somehow more solid. Certainly broader.

It also pulls him in and around, until he’s confronted - again - with Bill. His golden eye alight, looking him over skeptically.

“What, is this boring you?”

“I- what? No.” Dipper says. He nearly touches that chest again, and then the arm - but the biceps aren't any better. Technically speaking. He clenches his hands into fists, holding them to his own chest. “...Okay, maybe a little.”

Compared to some random nightmare city, recent developments are much more distracting. 

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” Bill tuts, pulling Dipper in until their sides squish together; Dipper still doesn’t know where to put his hands, he tucks them over his stomach. “See, this is why we gotta get more hangout time!”

Bill’s other arm waves over the dream, and a space in it parts, folding up the rest of the scenery. Like opening a curtain, the city is shoved away to two sides, pleating like in a skirt. 

The space opens into a void full of not-quite-stars.

Dipper leans in closer, and feels Bill’s arm tighten. 

There’s a myriad of images floating in blackness. Things floating through space that’s not space, with a huge pyramid, black and ominous, somewhere in the distance. 

The real heart of the nightmare realm Bill comes from, he’s seen glimpses before - 

The one Ford told him never, ever, ever to take a single step into. 

“You have a point, sapling. And I’ve had it with the tours of these run-of-the mill mental meanderings.” Bill never stops talking. He’s almost proud of it. “Now that I’ve cleared the squatters out, you should come crash at my place!”

Dipper yelps as he’s hauled up - damn it, he should have expected that - and braces himself on Bill’s shoulders. He nearly falls, Bill’s grip shifting, until he clamps his legs around Bill tight.

Not that he would fall - Bill wouldn’t let him - and he’s always been inhumanly, unfairly strong. The arm under his butt and the hand on his back would stop Dipper from escaping, even if he wanted to drop to the cold cobblestone ground.

“Cut it out.” Dipper kicks out from sheer indignance, anyway. Damn it, he knew he should have seen this coming -  and Bill nearly stumbles to keep him in place. “What are you playing at?”

He’s done with this prank. With having to look at that face, with its. Everything. With Bill hauling him around like he’s a pet, damn it, he made that clear long ago, when Bill was still imprisoned. 

Now he wants to bring him to the center of a mess of insanity and nightmares, what the hell is with that.

Maybe Bill can actually drive people insane. Because part of Dipper - the part that keeps saying ‘okay’ to their meetups has already started a horrible, insidious whisper. 

Telling him everything else has been okay. Wondering if it would really be that bad. 

“You clearly don’t care for the the terror atmosphere, kid. I’m fine with ditching it for the moment.” Bill jostles him in place, grinning wider at Dipper’s glare. “I got options! We can set up something else.”

“Like what.” Dipper says, flat. 

“Look. Bribing you, Pine Tree? It's hard,” Bill says, with some chagrin.. “I’ve already given you power - not that you’re using it - and you got the pleasure of my company. You’ve even got some of the secrets of the universe on hand, but you keep dodging chances to hang!” His eye narrows. “What’re you really into?”

“I-” Dipper hesitates. Without a retort prepared, he’s not sure what to say.

“Name it and I’m there, kid. You did me a major favor, we’ve been walking out for a while -  and I’ve been nothing but a gentleman when it comes to us.” He puts a strange emphasis on the word, one eyebrow raised.  “What’s not to like?”

A lot of things, honestly. None of which Dipper can say.

Demon, for one. Dangerous, definitely. Insane, absolutely - and through all of that. Dipper has kept meeting up with Bill, even though he could use any of the dozen wards Ford has tried to foist upon him. 

Bill’s hand is stroking his back, there’s an arm underneath him and it’s weird and - 

God, Dipper wishes Bill wasn’t still in this shape, it’s throwing him off. For a prank, it’s weirdly well constructed, there’s no uncanny valley. Now his mind is racing

Actually, didn’t Bill say it was a translation? 

Like. If Bill was a human, this would be how he looked. Still all angles, in a way. Unnaturally strong, oddly fascinating, and with amusement evident in the sharpness of his smile.

“Good! You’re thinking about it. Lemme know what’s cooking in there.” Bill’s grin is white and wild, a dangerous shape on his face. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

A smile that, now that Dipper looks at it, isn’t all that sharp. If he tugs the corner of the lips with his thumb, Bill makes a face, sticking out his tongue -

With a start, Dipper realizes he’s been staring at Bill’s mouth.

Bill snickers, but doesn’t respond. A slow smile, with his single eye half-lidded, and close enough that Dipper can feel the breath on his face. Dipper’s heart is going triple-time, and Bill’s very very close. 

At some point Dipper wet his lips, involuntarily. He watches as Bill’s eye glimmers, then slowly shuts.

And - 

The blare of the alarm cuts through things like a knife. 

Dipper sits bolt upright in bed. Heart pounding.

For a full ten seconds, he flails at the sheets blindly, surprised - until he remembers where he is, and lets his arms drop.

He stares around his room with out seeing it. Still bleary, blinking slow.

What…?

Dipper sits there for another long moment. The sun isn’t even up, why did he set his alarm so early. He knows why he did it but. Now it seems ridiculous.  

He wanted to make it less than eight hours. To make it cut off before Bill was expecting it. 

Before either of them expected it, this time.

“Shit,” Dipper says. 

He fumbles around for the cup on the bedside table. His mouth is dry, and he needs something to center himself, but he only manages to knock it over.

The memory of the dream - a lucid, very real event - is stuck in the forefront of his brain. Dipper can’t shake it. All of the Bill-dreams have been vivid, but this one is even more so. 

He almost -

Dipper rolls over, sheets tangling around his legs, with the memory searing bright in the forefront of his mind.

Even when he pulls the cool pillow against his face, it doesn't help it feel any less hot.

That thing keeps running through his head, no matter what he does. The memory's too vivid to be anything less than real. How close he was. The warmth. How Bills eye fluttered shut, along with the vivid picture of his mouth, lips slightly parted.

He's never - but then Bill was -

Dipper hugs the pillow tighter, letting it absorb him in its comforting softness. Even the tips of his ears must be red by now.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

He should have listened to Ford. He should have taken those warnings to heart.

He’s heard so many of them. 

Don’t talk to demons. Don’t get involved with their magic, don’t make any deals, don’t interact at all except to eliminate them.

And do not, under any circumstances, speak too long to Bill Cipher. 

Ford's smart. He knows how to handle almost every situation, and he's cautious enough to come up with almost every eventuality.

Dipper never had a warning against wanting to kiss an evil triangle. He swears a little more into the pillow, tense and frustrated.

God, he's an idiot.

Bill’s weird. He’s insane. He’s all about every aspect of twisting a mind into absurd shapes - hell, he is a shape. Not a human. Not good.

And not into anyone, as far as Dipper can tell. On the very rare moments the topic has come up, Bill’s been disparaging at best - and even if he was, it would still be a terrible idea. 

Dipper pulls the pillow tighter around him. He thunks his head-and-pillow combo against the mattress, embarrassment writhing in his chest.

He’s going to get up in a moment. First, to make some coffee - a lot of coffee - 

And second, to come up with his own plan. 

Bill knows about everything, or at least he claims to. He definitely likes it when people are crazy, but odds are? He won’t appreciate this kind of madness.

But with any luck - and some careful work, on Dipper’s part -

Bill Cipher will never, ever know about this.

[garoujo]

i just wanna sit in nagi’s lap and put him in little cute hair ties + bows + hair clips while he games <3

[alnilaem]

rugby player soap fucks you after a win. that’s it. extension from this post of mine

cw for dubcon smut, noncon exhibitionism, and gross johnny + simon

-

“Did ya see that, hen?”

Johnny’s words come out stifled behind his mouthguard. He smiles, and it’s bulky, a little dim-witted in how he darts his tongue out, licking up a wash of blood that sluices down his lip. His eyebrow is split and his nose is bent out of shape, his cheeks all swollen and ruddy. 

He pulls you into a crushing hug, shaking like an ebullient dog that’s unaware of how big it is. His jersey, a royal blue, turns cobalt with his sweat. It sticks to his skin and outlines his chest, peeling off of your shirt when you sheepishly pull away. 

The pitch is glutted with celebrating teammates and their loved ones, but the broadcast camera is raptly focused on you and Johnny. On the grudging hold he has on your waist and the unwieldy trophy he’s just won for his team. 

Johnny grins like it’s a challenge. Like he wants to make the camera turn away. He forestalls the protests on your tongue by sinking into you for a hard kiss, bruising, and almost brutal in its force. It’s like he hasn’t separated himself from the game yet. Like he doesn’t want to compartmentalise you from the barbarous sport he plays. 

The scruff of Johnny’s stubble tickles you as you try pushing him back, try twisting out of his hands. But his fingers, as bandaged and torn as they are, press dimples into your jawbone and keep you in place. Keeps you squirming and shameful beneath the dissonance of celebration. 

He peels away with a kitten lick, pressing a wet smooch to the corner of your mouth. He’s smiling, pulling your jeans against the bulge beneath his spandex-like shorts, chuckling.

“Scored that last try for you, hen,” he pants. Spits out his mouthguard and passes his tongue over his bloodied teeth. “Did’ja see it?”

Johnny stinks of iron musk and sweat. He hands the trophy away and uses both hands to pull you close, clemently kissing your jaw. 

“I did,” you hum. You consciously lilt your voice upwards, telling it to Johnny how he always needs to hear it. “You did so well, Johnny. So good.” 

He whimpers into your neck. Just barely gyroscopes his hips against you. 

“Did it for you,” he slurs. Johnny’s words are all soft, melting on his tongue as if he’s drunk. As if his brain is belated and stuck in the grip of your praise. “Did so good, right? A’practiced so hard.”

You take the bait that Johnny has given you, petting him, because if not, he’ll get ratty and make a scene. You pull back and cup his face, preening under the cornflower blue of his eyes and the puppy-like dip of his lips. You smile. “So good. I’m so proud of you.”

Johnny is half-lidded and dizzy, nodding to himself, swallowing your praise like an empty-headed dog. Impatience and lust are written into him—you can tell by the darkened shade of his eyes and how hard he clutches your hand. 

“Let’s go,” he says, leading you through the stadium entrance, shouldering past fans asking him for autographs and photos. “We’ve time before the team goes for dinner. Nobody’ll be in the change room.”

Your cheeks flare with the implication of Johnny’s words and how purposeful they are. Marked by firm determination, leaving no room for objection. 

He tugs you like a puppy pulling its owner. Excited, working against its leash, your feet struggling to catch up. Johnny pulls you into his team's changing room, slamming the door shut behind you. The sound of you getting pressed against the lockers is thin, tinny, and fleetingly impairs you. When you reorient, Johnny has his skinned knee between your legs and against your pussy. His hand palming his cock through the tight material of his rugby shorts.

“Johnny,” you pant, “what if someone comes in?”

“Let ‘em,” he huffs out a laugh. “What’re they gonna do? Ban me from the league? I just won us a trophy. ’m on top of the fuckin’ world, baby.”

Annoyance cycles in your stomach at his lack of consideration. You try wiggling out and mewling, but the thigh between your legs is an immovable object. Your clothed clit catches on his sinews at every angle, pushing a gasp out of you regardless of how you twist and turn. 

“Haud y’r wheesht,” he barks. A hint of aggression bleeds into Johnny’s words, and that makes you pliant. “We’re just celebratin’, hen, no need ta ruin my win.”

Your eyes are on the door while Johnny shucks down his shorts. It rolls down his thighs and he leaves it at his knees, too eager to toe off his cleats and pull it all the way off. He stands awkwardly now, a little stilted because he can’t stretch his legs all the way, but that doesn’t stop him from bevelling his thigh into you and flexing, grinding into you. 

Johnny peels your shirt—a replica of his jersey—off of you, and kisses you deeply. You can taste the salt and blood crusted against his lips, feel his small smile. 

Johnny spins you around and folds you over the bench. Your knees bruise against the rubber flooring and your chest flattens against the cold wood, your brain reeling in the gross implications of it, whatever Johnny and his friends get up to in this locker room. 

He rips down your jeans, almost popping the buttons off, almost burns your skin with the denim, and settles himself behind you. Johnny grabs a fistful of your ass and spreads you open, swatting your pussy with his other hand.

“Johnny…” you mewl, and he chuckles. Gives you a waggle, slipping his large hand over and thumbing your clit.

“Thought you were feart of bein’ found?” He asks, lowering to his knees and kissing your dewy folds. “Why’re y’being so loud?”

Johnny waits for a second, giving you time to think of a reply, but with the first sound to leave your mouth he’s licking a fat stripe up your pussy, collapsing your words. 

He laughs at himself and it sends vibrations up your spine. Your bones are grinding together, your nerves filaments of live wire under Johnny’s hands that dig divots into your thighs and his mouth that sucks on your clit, tonguing your sticky folds. 

He spits on your cunt, spreads the wad of saliva around with his tongue. He pulls you into his mouth and suckles, moving his wet lips against your dewy ones. 

You stretch your arm back and tug on Johnny’s fleecy mohawk, scratching your fingers against the dew-skinned, shaved parts of his head. He expels a groan against your clit and you mewl, pushing into him, wiggling so his nose buries further, his tongue plunging into you and licking a stroke up your walls. 

You’re quivering now, shaking against the cold bench and Johnny’s hot mouth. A knot of energy crackles in your stomach as he wraps his lips around your clit and slurps.

“Gonna come on my mouth, hen?” Johnny pants, but pulls away before you reply. Punches a whine out of you by spinning you onto your back against the bench, pulling his cock out and giving it a few tugs, his dick so hard it droops with laden weight and a slaver of precum.  

“Or would’ya rather do it on here?” He asks, stroking himself. His balls low-hanging in front of you, the fat head of his cock all ruddy and red and flaring as he pinches it. 

You stare, dull-headed, with your mouth hanging open and a hazy film behind your eyes. Johnny giggles. 

“Cannae think with this in front of ye?” He smears his cockhead on your lips. “Sweet girl. So cute.” 

Johnny winces and pulls away. He swings one leg over the bench, settling himself on top of you. His cock is a heavy mass of muscle between him. Swinging, bobbing in place. Dumb and drooling with precum that drops onto your navel. 

He slips himself between your puffy folds, panting like a dog. Equally as impatient as one, squeezing his cockhead past your first ring of muscle, writing off your small cries of pain. He thinks cupping your cheek offsets the burn—still, Johnny’s cock is so heavy and so big inside you. Spreading you open, stretching you out. Making a home inside your belly. 

You hic his name, and he shushes you with a kiss. Johnny weaves into short, quick thrusts, because pulling himself to the tip means losing most of your warmth, and he can’t have that. He settles on barely rolling his hips, focusing on burying himself deep, folding himself into a frog position if that means fucking you meaner.

“Takin’ so much cock, bonnie,” he moans into your neck. “So good. So good.” 

Johnny’s ears turn pink and his eyes turn glassy. He keeps rocking inside you, his cock filling you out so well, so full, your thighs shaking and damp with slick. He fingers your clit, and in his pace, wild and unfettered, you wrap your legs around his waist like a cobbled together leash that you use to pull him closer.

Johnny grows feral at that. He slaps his balls harder against you, biting your shoulder. Sweat and blood rolls down his cheek and onto your face, augmenting the icy gold of his first place medal. It drags along your chest with each of his thrusts, turning into a ball of liquid fire as your body saturates with sweat. Johnny leans down, his lips slick as he kisses you, the push and pull of his hips ripening into a more jagged, desperate rhythm.

“Gonna fill y’up, hen,” he pants. There’s a strong dissonance that impairs you, echoing within the locker room. Johnny’s degenerate moans and the slap of skin against skin. The pitched sound of the wind being knocked out of you, the sticky sound of your cunt getting spread open on his big cock. 

Something else poises itself on Johnny’s tongue, something impure, but it gets shaved-off as he cuts himself off with a long, flinty moan. Johnny quivers as he comes, and that pushes him deeper as he fills you with his warm ropes.

He presses down on your clit, pushing the rise of your orgasm out of you. Your spine curls off the bench, your nails digging divots into Johnny’s arms, your mouth hanging open and a rough wave of pleasure curling over you and breaking into your skin. Your orgasm is so consuming it burns, eating you whole.  

It chews you up and spits you out. You tremble around Johnny’s softening cock as he peppers kisses down your sternum, and while you reorient, you see an unearthly spot of colour in the corner of your eye. It isn’t composed of matter—it’s big and blurry and hides between two rows of lockers. 

Then, you realise the drapery England flag, the absence of a Scottish one. 

The man who stands in the corner is blonde and huge and has his fat cock out, curling his fist around it, pumping. He’s so quiet, an ambush predator as he just stands there, continuing to beat his dick even after you make eye contact with him. 

He turns to Johnny, grotesquely smiling.

Johnny returns it.

[charliemwrites]

Woof, grrr, woof

No content warnings

Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…

“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.

The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.

It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.

The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.

“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.

You shift. “Thank you.”

“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”

“Raw diet?”

“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”

You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.

“Raw it is,” you muse.

He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.

You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.

“How do you feel about pink…?”

Snort.

“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”

A long whine.

“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”

The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.

“S’what you get, dummy.”

Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.

“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”

You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.

The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”

You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.

“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.

The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.

“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”

You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.

Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.

“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”

You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.

“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”

He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.

You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.

As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.

Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.

“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”

His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.

“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.

He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.

“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”

It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.

“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”

You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.

“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[bamnamuu]

things bangchan would do as your boyfriend

w.count 250 | warnings mentions kissing | em’s note it’s been a weird couple days, and the only way to get through them is with boyfriend channie : D oh also not proof read !!!

boyf!Chan who teases you about stealing his hoodies, even though he leaves them out on purpose because he likes seeing you wearing his clothes.

boyf!Chan who always sends you messages and selfies every hour or so just so you don’t forget how much he loves you. (not that you could forget, he's on your mind 24/7 365)

boyf!Chan who learns to cook your favourite food, so that when you get home you do not have to worry about cooking.

boyf!Chan who has a polaroid of you two in the back of his phone so everywhere he goes he has you with him.

boyf!Chan who lets you listen to skz's new songs before the rest of the members because he wants your approval, he admires your thoughts.

boyf!chan who would set up ‘sleepovers’ at your shared apartment every weekend just because he wants to do something special for you. (he would also let you help build a pillow fort)

boyf!Chan who always gives your forehead a little kiss whenever he leaves the room you're in, even if he leaves for a second he’s gonna smooch your head.

boyf!Chan who when sleeping next to each other, drags you closer to him if you roll away because he's missing your warmth, he just likes having you close knowing you're with him makes him sleep better.

boyf!Chan who doesn't know what he's doing, but tries his hardest to be the best boyfriend for you.

[majimasleftasscheek]

I've been thinking, about how you would make sea creature kazumaji... do you already have headcannons for that or is it something more new?

a lil mix of both 🤔 I originally drew eeljima for MerMay and was gonna leave it at that but I got really attached to the idea of kiryu and his dumb fish boyfriend so I rolled with it kdlsjfddsf. I got a few ideas tho 👀

majima's an eel - nothing specific but I leaned to electric since the rpg games give him electricity as an element. also, knifefish (what a coincidentally convenient name 👀) have spots that remind me of his snake's spots so that fit well with his overall theme plus they're related to eels so even better >:D saejima's also a fishdude, a grouper specifically because they're huge and chonky but also gentle uwu

kiryu's a silly lil fisherman guy, one of them commercial types that goes out on a boat to get big hauls. nishiki's there too being the saddest wettest little beast. other characters make up part of the crew in similar ways the canon families are set up. so like kazama and kashiwagi for example are captains of the crew

I have thought about if they were fish too if I wanted to do a branching AU of this and kiryu could maybe be a thresher shark - because they got that big slappy tail but also their huge beautiful eyes™. OR a betta fish because I think the colors would really compliment his heat colors. nishiki can be a koi because of course

kiryu and nishiki live in a lil shack on the shore. nishiki hates it but kiryu likes the simplicity and being close to work. nishiki would move closer to the city but frankly all the haircare product he buys is so obscene that he can't afford a place on his own ✌

majima and saejima (+ yasuko) live in some nearby kelp forests/coral reefs. merfolk tend to stay away from humans and live further out in the ocean, deeper underwater but these three take advantage of all commercial fishing going on to get some easy food. but being so close to fishing trawlers, this leads to majima getting caught in a discarded net, being trapped and beached where kiryu finds him 👀

merfolk can breath air and go on land but it is as awkward as you can imagine. when majima hangs out with kiryu, kiryu drags him up the beach to enough dry land where the tide isn't a problem. merfolk do have to be moisturized often so majima's either doused with a bucket of water or gets a big ass lathering of lotion. whether or not that'd actually be realistic doesn't matter to me I just think it'd be funny for nishiki to be very suspect of the comical amount of lotion kiryu suddenly starts buying

majima's fav thing to do with kiryu is have him fry up some fish since he's never had cooked food before and thinks it's the bee's knees. kiryu will often go into town to buy all sorts of things for majima to try or majima will catch some wack fish from who knows where for kiryu to fry up. they pick secluded beaches as not to be disturbed but kiryu is ready to fling majima into the ocean at a moment's notice just in case

majima has a second set of jaws normally not visible unless he's snacking on a fish. sometimes he pops em out for a smooch and kiryu is wary but willing to try anything 😤 nishiki is often very worried about the numerous weird bite marks kiryu comes home with but kiryu chalks it up to clumsily falling face first into some coral. you can tell by now I'm very into the trope of person dating a cretur is very bad at keeping it a secret dsklgjk

majima tends to have electrical flare ups when he's feeling emotional so kiryu ends up getting zapped a lot. it's not enough to be dangerous but kiryu has since avoided touching light switches and makes nishiki use them first

rarely kiryu will take majima out on the town in a wheelbarrow covered in a blanket and everyone's like *squint* but eventually gets used to his funny lil friend who seems fascinated by literally everything

there's defo some tigerfish action at a later point once nishiki eventually decides to follow kiryu to one of his little secret beachside escapades to not only find out kiryu's being a weirdo as usual but now with a weirdo fishguy. on the other side, saejima is eventually convinced that there is not a bunch of people on the shore waiting with harpoons and nets and joins majima for one of kiryu's fish fries and finds out hey maybe humans ain't so bad if they can put up with majima for more than five minutes

[babyhatesreality]

Nightlight

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!F!Reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, pet names, angsty/anxious/insecure baby, a few tears, Stucky being the best daddies ever.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

"Alright love bug, time to get out," Steve said, smiling as he watched you play with your tub toys. He held out the small plastic basket to you. You tossed your toys one by one into it, cheering proudly each time like you'd made a half-court shot. Steve of course cheered right along with you. Once all your toys were put up, he hung the basket on the hooks on the tub wall to dry, and helped you out. He wrapped the big fluffy towel around you. "Gotta hug you dry!" he said, giving you a big squeeze and making you giggle. "I heard that kisses help you dry off too, isn't that right?" he added very seriously, before attacking your face with noisy smooches. You squealed and playfully twisted like you were trying to get away, but deep down you loved it.

You were still getting used to being so cared for and protected. You'd been with Steve and Bucky for about six weeks now. The bond between the three of you was incredible, and you felt so safe and happy, trusting them instantly and completely. It was still taking some time for you to believe that you were worthy of this much love and attention, but you were slowly getting there. As if you really had any other choice when you were constantly being showered with it.

Once you were dry, Steve helped you brush your teeth and combed out your hair, before carrying you, still wrapped in the huge fluffy towel, to Bucky. "What's it gonna be tonight, princess?" Papa asked. "Do you want to sleep in the big bed with us, or in your bed with your stuffies?"

Without really thinking about it, you answered quickly. "Stuffies please!" Daddy and Papa had just let you build two brand new teddies at Build-A-Bear today, and you were eager for them to get to know the rest of their new stuffy gang. The idea of cuddling two new stuffies plus Jellybean tonight was just too exciting to pass up.

"You got it, love," Papa said with a smile. He carried you out to Bucky, gently transferring you into his waiting arms. "She's sleeping with her new pals tonight," he explained. Bucky grinned, looking down on your excited face.

"What did you name your new teddies again, Trouble?" he asked, remembering full well what you had named them.

"Named 'em Cap and BuckBear!" you answered cheerfully.

"That's right you did," he said smugly to himself, as he carried into your room. He made quick work of putting your sleepytime lotion on, and dressing you in the pink and blue pjs you'd picked out earlier, all while you told him all about your new teddy bears. He nodded and followed along, subtly laying you down in bed before you really realized it. Once you caught on, however, you started squirming and trying to sit back up, but all it took was him tucking your new furry friends into your arms one at a time for you to lay back down with a contented sigh.

He and Steve each took their turn reading you a book that you picked out. As your eyelids were getting unbearably heavy, Bucky reached over and switched on the soft blue unicorn nightlight, before turning on the baby monitor. They finished the last story, tucked you in, gave you gentle kisses on the forehead, and tiptoed out the door.

You smiled, nuzzling into your new teddies' soft fur. Then, of course, you had to reach for Jellybean, not wanting her to feel left out. Then you needed to give some time to each new teddy so they knew they were loved too...and before you knew it, you were wide awake again, trying to make sure all the stuffies got equal love before you all went to sleep.

Once you were satisfied, you snuggled in and closed your eyes. But...something was wrong. Something didn't sound right. You wiggled and fidgeted, not knowing what it was, but it was making you more and more anxious. Suddenly you realized that you hadn't slept alone for nearly three weeks. You were so used to hearing the gentle breathing of Papa and Daddy snuggled next to you, that the silence of your room was too loud. And then it was scary.

You opened your eyes, focusing on your unicorn nightlight. It was so lovely and pretty, but it just wasn't doing the job- it couldn't soothe you enough, or chase away enough of the creeping fear climbing up your spine. You desperately wanted to get out of bed and go find Papa and Daddy. But you shook your head and buried your face into Jellybean. Good girls stayed in bed. Good girls did what they were told. Otherwise, that meant they were bad and who wanted a bad little girl?

*************************************

Steve and Bucky were getting ready for bed in their room. "I almost don't know what to do with myself," Steve joked. "I'm so used to Katie being in here and going to bed with her that I've forgotten how to adult."

Bucky chortled quietly. "You want me to read you a story?" he teased, laughing when Steve tossed his wadded up teeshirt at his head. "Punk."

"Jerk."

"You wanna watch a movie?"

"I feel like I should say yes, but...."

"You only wanna watch a Disney movie, don't you?"

"...yes."

"...me too."

"I've gotten so addicted to them with her!"

"Right?! How the hell did they get that good over all these years?"

"Makes you glad were were both on ice for some of those in between ones, eh?"

"Tell me about it. Let's find one of the ones that might be too scary for her. We'll screen it and see if she can handle it."

"I love that idea."

"Well, I am the smart one."

"I still outrank you."

"Touche, punk. Gimme the remote."

They both climbed into bed, scrolling through the options. Before Bucky hit play though, he hesitated. "What is it?" Steve asked.

"Should we...should we go check on her? Just to make sure she's...you know...okay?" Bucky asked, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.

Steve smiled gently. "I'm missing her too," he said reassuringly. The bed felt somehow empty without your small frame wiggling around in it. "But we need to let her have her independence when she wants it. That's part of keeping her healthy and safe."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Bucky said, pouting. "But I don't have to like it."

Before Steve could agree, they heard something. Something come through the baby monitor. Something that made them both absolutely freeze.

You gave the tiniest sniff. Like...maybe like you were crying.

Steve and Bucky tore across the apartment so fast, it was a wonder there weren't skid marks on the carpet. They screeched to a halt by your door, not wanting to scare you, or even wake you up if you were, in fact, asleep. Steve cracked the door open the tiniest bit, just enough to get a look at you in your bed. You were definitely crying silently. Bucky let out a soft exhale of air, like he'd been punched in the stomach at the sight of your tears. You heard it and turned to them.

"Daddy? Papa?" you asked in the smallest, most heartbreaking voice they'd ever heard.

Instantly, you found yourself in Bucky's arms, and then both of you were in Steve's. You tried to subtly wipe your eyes, but of course they knew you'd been crying.

"What's wrong, baby girl?" Steve asked, his heart threatening to squeeze out his chest as he held both you and Bucky. "Did you get scared? Are you okay?"

"It's okay, you're safe, nothing can hurt you," Bucky added in a soothing tone. "We're here, my love. We're right here."

"I...sowwy."

"What?" Steve replied, completely surprised. "What are you sorry for honey? You didn't do anything wrong."

"S'posed to be 'sleep," you mumbled, the tears threatening again.

"Aw, that's okay Trouble," Bucky said with a soft smile. "Sometimes it takes me a long time to fall asleep too."

"Not....dat..." you whispered, before turning your ashamed face into Bucky's chest. They exchanged a quick look.

"What is it then, honey? You can tell us, it's okay," Steve said soothingly, rubbing circles on your back. "Daddy and I got you, okay? Can we please help you?"

You gulped, and looked up at them. They both seemed sincere, and you had no reason not to trust them...."I...I got scawed," you lisped out, your Rs turning into Ws the way they did when you were upset. "It's okay, Princess, Daddy and I will protect you from anything, okay? You know that, right?"

"Yeah...."

"Can you tell us what scared you?"

"No," you said, turning back into Bucky's chest.

"Why not baby?"

"Cause....'cause I don't wanna be bad...."

"You're not bad, Trouble. You're our good little girl. Please tell us what scared you. We won't be mad, we promise."

"Pwomise?"

"We promise," they said in unison. That was what finally broke you enough to tell them, the tears starting up again.

"I...I missed you and I wann'd to come back to the big bed but good giwls don't get outta bed and dey gotta be good and stay...."

You watched their faces closely as you confessed, just waiting for them to scold you. Instead, the softest smiles crossed their faces when they heard that you were missing them.

"Oh angel," Steve breathed, leaning in to rub his nose against yours. "How on earth could we be mad at you for missing us?"

"You...you not mad?"

"Not even a little bit, baby." "Cause guess what Trouble?" Bucky added, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"What?" you asked innocently, your wide, pleading eyes doing him in all over again.

"We were missing you too."

"You was?"

"Uh-huh. Big time."

"It's true, Baby. Daddy and I were talking about it before we heard you in the baby monitor."

"Was twying to be quiet and be good."

"And that was very sweet of you, lovebug, but listen to me, okay?" Papa said, scooting in even closer and putting a finger under your chin so you'd look him in the eye. "If you ever, and I mean ever, need me or Daddy, you can always, always, ALWAYS come to us. No matter what. Okay?"

You blinked up at him, astonished that you hadn't been the perfect little girl you were supposed to be....yet he still wanted you to come to him anyways? You knew you could trust your Papa....and he wouldn't lie to you....

"That's right, Baby Girl," Buck added, seeing your disbelief. "Doesn't matter if it's late at night, or early in the morning, or if you've just been put to bed- doesn't matter. Doesn't even matter if it's nowhere near bedtime. If you want us, you got us. Papa and I are here for you and want you to be the happiest baby in the world. So don't even think about it again- if you need me and Papa, you come get us. Understood?"

"I....I can come get you if I need you?"

"Of course you can, Trouble."

"Always," added Steve lovingly.

"Can I....can I...."

"Yes?"

"Can....I come....sweep with you tonight pwease?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Bucky teased, swinging you up in his arms suddenly and standing.

"Do you want to bring your new furry friends with you, baby?" Steve asked, already gathering them in anticipation of what he already knew you were going to say.

You couldn't even respond for a moment, you were so full of wonder and joy at their love and affirmation. At their care. They DID love you. They DID care for you. And you could make mistakes and they would still love you. No one had ever done that for you before. But maybe...just maybe...you had finally found it. The two bestest daddies in the entire world that genuinely loved and cared for you. Your heart was so full, it was amazing.

You nodded shyly at Steve, who grinned and carefully gathered Cap, BuckBear, and Jellybean. "I call cuddling with Baby and Cap," he said playfully as the three of you (well, the six of you counting the stuffies) made your way out of your bedroom.

"No fair!" Bucky said back in a theatrically wounded voice. "I wanna cuddle with Baby! And of course BuckBear. He is the handsomest, isn't he, Trouble?" When you gave your little giggle at their silliness, they both smiled those soft, special smiles at you again, making your heart warm and making you feel so loved all over again.

In no time at all, you were comfortably cuddled in the crook of Bucky's right arm while holding Steve's left forearm against your chest. After some more playful and gentle teasing, Cap was cuddled by Papa, BuckBear by Daddy, and Jellybean was squished up all cozy in between Papa's arm and you.

You sighed, feeling so loved and cared for. "Papa? Daddy?" you asked sleepily, as once more your eyelids became oh so heavy.

"What is it, baby?" Bucky asked in his deep, quiet tones.

"You are better dan a million nightlights," you said with a gentle smile.

They both leaned into you at that, giving you sweet goodnight kisses all over again. "You're the light of our lives, angel," Steve whispered. "We'll always be your nightlights."

[tgms]

fight! — togame jo

you only wanted to try throwing a real punch! too bad your overprotective boyfriend has other plans. (wc: 1k)

“make sure your thumb’snt in your fist,” togame explained from over your shoulder. “line your feet up with your shoulders and put one forward—like that. good girl.”

you stand in the middle of your room, arms up like you’re ready to fight, hands formed into fists (thumbs on the outside!). togame stands behind you, big hands resting on your waist as he guides you to a proper fighting stance.

you giggle at the praise, craning your head back to lock eyes with him. you purse your lips a little, and he sighs before ducking his head down and planting a quick kiss.

“you happy now? if you needa punch someone, stand like this and aim for his nose or kick his balls.”

“mhm. thanks for teaching me, y’re the best,” you grinned back at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “but how ‘bout that reverse arm breaker thing you did? said you’d show me how to do that.”

“maybe next time. no need to worry your pretty head over that,” togame said, ignoring your immediate pout and pressing his thumb into your bottom lip to smooth it out. “lemme take care of all the fighting for you, ‘kay?”

the pout on your face deepened, your body already starting to pull away from togame’s. his grip on your sides tightened slightly and he turned you to face him fully.

“next time, baby,” he sighed out. he could never win against you. “dinner first, then we’ll see.”

you brightened up considerably, arms reaching up to wind around his neck. you planted another kiss on his cheek, laughing slightly at the air he blew on your neck.

“dinner first!” you promised, eyes glistening. “can i pick?”

which is how he ended up here, in an alleyway after dinner with an empty wallet and a group of guys giving him the stink eye. and of course, you with your arm wrapped prettily around his. why you picked a hole-in-the-wall dingy izakaya in the middle of the worst part of the city is beyond him.

“you know them?” you asked togame, eyes following the group of guys who were sneering at your boyfriend.

“had a little scuffle with ‘em last night. don’t worry ‘bout it,” he replied, sharp eyes directed to the supposed ringleader.

“were they weak?”

“very weak. made them eat shit.”

“can i try then?” you stopped midstep, looking up expectantly at togame.

“no,” he shot back quickly, almost cutting you off.

“you didn’t even let me finish!”

“i know what you’re gonna say, baby. and my answer’s no. no fighting for you.”

you stayed rooted in your spot, still a good three-quarters of the alleyway left before you reached the main street.

“if you let me punch one of them i’ll stop asking you to teach me,” you proposed.

“still no.”

“and i promise to stay away from any fights from now on. for real,” you threw in, tugging down on togame’s arm to get him to look at you. “and if i don’t have any cuts i’ll do anything you want.”

he turned his head slightly, eyes staring down into yours in a silent battle. you could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he weighed out the pros and cons of letting you do as you please.

pros: you’ll finally stop asking him to let you fight.

cons: you’re gonna fight.

after a couple more seconds of silence, togame threw his head back and groaned, one hand moving down to snake around your waist and the other coming up to toussle his hair.

“fine. you know i can never say no to you. i don’t wanna hear another word about fighting after this, got it?

you squealed in excitement, hopping up on your tip-toes to plant a smooch right next to his mouth.

“you missed,” he grumbled under his breath, hands flexing against your hips. you hummed, missing his words in your excitement of your first ‘fight.’

“which one should i go for?”

“that one in the front,” togame leaned down, voice low. “apparently their leader but he’s weak as shit. don’t worry ‘bout the rest.”

you beamed up at him again, giving him another quick kiss before practically skipping over to the small group.

“remember, no cuts!” togame called out after you. you didn’t bother replying to him or acknowleding his words. he grinned a bit, at least you listened when he said to never look away from your opponents.

togame stood a few steps away, watching as you exchanged quiet words with the leader of the group and laughing inwardly at the confusion that continued to show on his face, panicked eyes switching from you to togame.

and suddenly a loud crunch echoed through the air and the guy was on his back, uncomfortably laying on bags of trash. a hand came up to cup his bleeding nose while the rest of his group stared in shock, jaws hanging open.

you happily walked back to togame, smile as bright as ever and pride evident in your eyes. you lifted up one of togame’s arms, settling it around yourself as you started walking toward the main street.

“i did good, didn’t i?” you asked, beaming up at togame. the arm around your shoulders shook as he laughed, deep and hearty as always, but with something a little more that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“so good, baby,” he grinned, pressing his lips to your temple. “you always listen so well.”

his words sent butterflies straight to your stomach, and you couldn’t help the way you squirmed a little in his grasp.

“and no cuts!” you proudly showed off your knuckles, skin just as smooth as before your little fight.

“wow. looks like i get a wish, then,” he grabbed your hand and brought it up for closer inspection, placing gentle kisses on your knuckles after he deemed your skin injury-free. “dinner on you for the next week? or maybe you should take out the ori’s trash tomorrow.”

“no wait, stop,” you said, panic filling your voice. “anything but the trash, jo. you can’t make me!”

he laughed again, that same something still lingering.

“well how about i show you just how good you were today and we’ll call it even?”

notes: i literally want him so bad wtf. talk to me if u enjoyed!

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

“You’re gorgeous.”

Lips brush softly against Billy’s temple. Fingers card into his hair at the base of his scalp, holding him like he’s something precious.

Billy scrunches his nose.

“Knock it off,” he scoffs.

When he bats his hand around, shrugging away from the touch, his wrist is snatched with a gentle grip.

“So fussy over nothing,” Eddie muses. He smooths his thumb from side to side against Billy’s inner wrist, leaning forward and planting another kiss on the bridge of his nose. “Why do you always get so grumpy when I compliment you, hm?”

Now, Billy’s brows draw together. Eddie kisses the crease, snorting into Billy’s palm when his free hand flies up to shove at his face.

“‘Cause it’s gay.”

“Well, I have some news you’re not gonna like.”

The brunet’s voice is muffled. He wiggles his eyebrows from between Billy’s fingers, and Billy only retracts his hand when lips press against his palm.

He makes a show of wiping his hand against the front of his shirt, and Eddie snickers.

“I don’t like it, okay?”

“Don’t like kisses? Blondie, I’m wounded.” Eddie closes the short distance between them, crowding Billy against the headboard. “You sure seemed to like ‘em a minute ago when I was—“

“Shh, stop,” Billy interrupts.

He can feel his skin grow hot when Eddie cracks a face-splitting grin, so close he can almost taste it.

In the back of his mind, on loop, is the sound of the headboard thunking against the wall over and over. The box springs creaking. Those damn fucking handcuffs rattling around his wrists.

As if sensing how deep his embarrassment runs, Eddie reaches up to tuck a curl behind Billy’s ear.

Just enough softness to cut the edge. Always.

“C’mon, you know how pretty you are, how can you expect me to not wanna smooch all over your face?”

“I said knock it off,” Billy warns.

Eddie stays close. Lingering well within the short reach of Billy’s personal bubble, but his expression dulls ever so slightly. Like a switch being flicked off, the light behind his eyes vanishing.

It has Billy holding his breath.

“Do you think we’re doing something wrong?”

The brunet’s voice is lower than before. Quieter. Billy opens his mouth and closes it again, looking for the answers in the other’s expression.

When he doesn’t provide a response, Eddie huffs amusedly and tilts his head to the side. Releases Billy’s wrist in favor of interlacing their fingers.

“Just ‘cause you don’t want love to come your way doesn’t mean it won’t, y’know.” He leans back against his free hand, giving Billy adequate space to breathe, and chews his lip in brief thought. “Don’t have to be naked to be loved, either.”

For a long beat, Billy just stares. He almost wants to run to Munson’s bathroom and look in the mirror, just to check and make sure his thoughts aren’t written all over his face for Eddie to read aloud. It’s a silly urge, all things considered.

He’s sitting in a trailer that he spends more time in than his own bedroom, wearing a stupid t-shirt and boxers that aren’t his, surrounded by pillows that he forced Eddie to buy because one pillow just wasn’t up to code.

The devil is in the details, and suddenly the air feels thin.

Even with the small space between them, Billy is still boxed in with no feasible way out. He furrows his brows and clenches his jaw.

“You don’t love me,” Billy spits.

Then Eddie laughs and it brings his blood to a simmer.

“I kinda do, though,” he lilts. “I get this happy little rush whenever I see you, I think about buying you cassettes and other shit with my negative account balance, and I quit lookin’ at nudie mags a little while back. If you’re mopping up what I’m drippin’.”

He fucking winks and Billy’s sure his face is redder than a tomato right now.

“What do you look at?” he hears himself ask.

His voice sounds far away over the thundering in his ears. Eddie snickers and leans over towards the edge of the bed, pulling the top drawer of his nightstand open and routing around.

How he keeps track of anything in this room is beyond Billy. Still, he manages to produce exactly what he’s looking for; a Polaroid.

Eddie sits back up, looking over the picture fondly for a moment before he hands it over. Billy accepts it with shaky hands.

The camera has made it into a few of their sessions before. For later, Eddie always says, and then snaps the most diabolical picture any lens has ever seen. The pervert probably has a whole shoebox full of them by now.

Not that Billy would ever ask to see.

He’s expecting something filthy when he turns it over in his hand. A shot of cum all over his face, or his mouth full of cock with a fist in his hair, shoving him deeper. The last thing he needs to see right now.

Instead, it’s an image of him smiling. Fully clothed. Eyes shut, and crinkled at the corners.

He looks genuinely happy, and he can’t even recall when the picture was taken. All he can deduce from the background is that he’s in Eddie’s room.

Go figure.

“We were smoking,” Eddie says, leaning closer to tip the picture down so he can peak at it once more. “One of those first times, before we ever did anything, and you were so giggly. Laughed at damn near everything I said, and I knew I wanted to remember that sound and how pretty you looked when you smiled all big like that.”

“Wanted to remember?”

“Mhm, you immediately smacked the camera out of my hand and yelled at me,” Eddie snickers. “Wasn’t sure I’d get another opportunity.”

He sighs fondly, like that’s endearing to him, and Billy presses his lips into a line.

“You jerk off to this?”

“Well, when you say it like that—“ Eddie pauses. Dawns a bit of a blush and shrugs one of his shoulders, still peaking at the picture. “You look relaxed. Totally at ease and happy, and it just gets me excited, I guess.”

Billy nods.

“How many times have you whacked to it?”

Eddie clears his throat and averts his eyes, sitting up straight reaching to toy with a lock of his hair.

“Like, uh, I dunno. A lot?”

“What’s a lot?”

Briefly, Eddie’s eyes flit back to Billy’s, and he looks away again. Tugs his hair in front of his face to hide his rapidly reddening complexion.

“Maybe something like 20-ish?”

Billy’s brows shoot upward.

“20 times?”

“Just counting the times I’ve used it exclusively.”

“Christ.” Billy shakes his head, spreading the faintest hint of a smile. “No wonder you keep saying you like me so much, you fuckin’ Pavloved yourself.”

“No, I felt that way the first time!”

Billy laughs, and he doesn’t miss the way that Eddie stares at him through half-lidded eyes. Like he just did something sexy with the intention of getting a rise out of the brunet.

It makes everything too real.

The air between them is suddenly hot again like it was mere minutes ago. Billy swallows thickly.

“That’s really your ultimate fantasy? Making me happy?” he asks. Glances back down at the picture. “More vanilla than I would’ve guessed.”

“Oh, you saying I can’t fuck you nasty and make you happy at the same time? That’s a challenge I’m willing to accept.”

Eddie crawls closer again. Dips down to nudge his face into Billy’s chest like a cat, pressing kisses against the worn fabric of his shirt.

When a hand brushes up his side, Billy goes rigid. Takes a few calming breaths and fights the urge to squirm away when Eddie kisses at his collarbone. He warily pushes his fingers through the brunet’s hair instead, cradling the base of his scalp.

Because maybe he’s something precious, too.

“You’re weird, Munson.”

Eddie chuckles, nosing fondly at his neck.

“You’re gorgeous, Hargrove.”

[dollfacefantasy]

thigh praise and slow sex with chris? he’s really into reader’s thighs and caresses them and sensually praises them and stuff <33

mdni (18+) god yessss i feel like this man would so be into thighs.

i feel like chris is just obsessed with that area of your body; tummy, hips, ass, and thighs (i hc him with a mad breeding kink cause i can 😔).

when the two of you cuddle, he loves having you cradled against his chest sometimes. but other times, you're laying with your head on the pillows, scrolling through your phone, and he's down lower. his head rests on your tummy, his muscular arms wrapped around your hips. you're just so warm there, so soft.

it starts off with him nuzzling into the plush of your belly, pushing up your shirt and leaving gentle kisses there. you squirm at the sensation but basically just let him do his thing.

his mouth moves all across the area, soon finding your hip bones and covering them in smooches too. his thumbs rub back and forth on your thighs in the meantime before he finally readjusts himself by sliding off the foot of the bed and dragging you down there with him.

you leave your phone up top, eyes fully focused on him now. his lips open and close, tongue laving over the silken skin of your thighs.

"so pretty, baby," he mumbles, "so soft and warm, can't get enough."

his thick hands sweep up your calves and rise above your kneecaps. the pads of his fingers dig into the dough of your legs in a gentle massage. your breathing becomes more relaxed as you just watch the man you love worship you.

"sweet girl. so good for me. you like when these beautiful legs get my attention?" he asks.

of course, you nod.

"that's right. they deserve it. they're the perfect size to fit on my shoulders, perfect to sit between my fingers when i squeeze 'em. perfect to wrap around my head when i'm having a taste of that precious pussy."

heat simmers in your tummy. your teeth scrape across your bottom lip. but you let him continue without making your impatience known. the both of you love this, why would you cut something so sacred short?

"this is my favorite place to be, you know that? right here. as close to heaven as i'll ever get," he murmurs.

he nips at your inner thighs, leaving a little trail of love bites. nuzzling the crotch of your shorts, his eyes lift and find your face. they're hooded. you can tell he's worked himself into frenzy for you, and you're gonna be feeling that as soon as he gets those bottoms down.

"sweetheart, how did i ever get so lucky?" he breathes.

you shrug with a little smirk like you did whenever he asked you that question. he returns the little joking look, a silent knowing communication between the two of you.

"hm. i don't know either. i'll have to think about it later when i'm not busy satisfying my favorite girl."

[lyneira]

♡ mwah! ♡

-> how would the twst boys react if you gave them a peck on the lips out of nowhere?

slightly suggestive at a certain part, otherwise, it's mostly fluff as usual!

Asks why

Vil, Jack, Jade, Lilia, Epel

They're not upset or anything, they're simply curious. What's up? Did you want something? What's with the sudden affection? Are you looking for attention? If so, why didn't you say so? He'd gladly give it. There will be some differences behind the nature of their questions though.

Some of them might be genuinely curious and would like to know what's earning them such affection from you (This would apply to Jack and Epel)

The others will use it as a way to tease you. They'll cheekily ask, "aw, does my sweet y/n want attention? come here", and they'll either give you more smooches or make you work for it, all depending on their mood 😌 (This would apply to Vil, Jade, and Lilia)

Gives you MANY kisses

LEONA, Malleus, FLOYD, Jamil, Che'nya

If you give him a kiss and expect to easily leave without a word, you're terribly wrong. You think you can do something like that and try to escape? Tsk tsk.

Before you can try to retreat, he'll pull you onto his lap and begin kissing you all over, muttering things like "if you're gonna kiss me, do it right". He's 'upset' that you think one small peck was gonna satisfy him, especially since you've interrupted him to do so. Now you have to deal with the consequences. You'll be given the most passionate kisses everywhere and anywhere 😏😘

*.exe has stopped working*

Deuce, IDIA, Silver

Congrats! You've broken them!

You know how the prince had woken up Sleeping Beauty with a kiss? Well you have successfully done the opposite because now these boys can't move a muscle! Their burning cheeks and bewildered stare at you is enough to tell you how much they're freaking out inside.

'WHYDIDTHEYDOTHAT? OHMYGOSHTHEIRLIPS WERESOSOFT Y/N,AREYOUTRYINGTOKILLME?!?'

It's not like you two haven't kissed before, but bear with them, they're just not used to sudden gestures of affection. The best they can do is hug you and hide their flushed face in the softness of your bosom. Pet their head, hold em tight, and they'll melt even further, mumbling a soft,"I love you"

Calls you adorable and gives you a big kiss

Kalim, Ruggie, Cater, Neige, Trey, Rook

These guys will feel the warmth you've put into that kiss and will give it right back. He finds it extremely endearing of you to be so affectionate!

In general, there would almost be a competition of affection between you two. You'll do something sweet and in turn, he'll do something sweet right back. Whether it's through more spontaneous kisses, hugs, or encouraging words, he's not going to allow you to upstage him, he loves you too much

"What was that for?! ...please do it again"

Azul, Riddle, Sebek, Ace, Rollo

Will get flustered once you catch him off guard by bestowing your lips upon his. He'll complain at first like, "I'm busy" or "don't distract me". However, you'll notice that even after a couple of minutes, his blush still hasn't left his cheeks and then he'll finally turn to you, revealing the pleading look in his eyes, "y/n...please do it again". Of course you oblige. How can you resist? He rarely showed this side of him after all.

You can also take this opportunity to tease him a little, but don't overdo it! (or else you'll never be seeing this adorable side of him again) And ensure to make up for your teasing by giving him all the smooches and love he deserves afterwards!

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[okaerina]

#사랑 enhypen as your bf !

warnings!...none just pure fluff and affection, lowercase intended.

notes : fun fact this was the first work i wanted to post but got distracted :)

genre : fluff, established relationships, slight angst

𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚!

soft flirty bf huhu he's literally gonna flirt so hard and on top of that if you're shy he's absolutely gonna shapeshift your cheeks into a tomato/strawberry whatv red stuff you prefer :) i mean we all know hee is a pro at flirting so good luck to your sanity RIP

lots of singing fs this man's gonna sing for you like can't sleep? dw babe he's got a soty typa lullaby, bored/stressed? who needs a lofi playlist when you got lee hee :) hEAR me out he's definitely gonna write songs for you jsjsjs he's gonna sing em to you randomly cause It's romantic right?? he'll look deep into your eyes, throw that signature smirk of his and sing oh so lovingly cause he knows he's driving you nutz ;)

lotsss of movie gaming dates he'll beat you at every game heyyy he's an ace i don’t make the rules 🥱 but time to time he'll chill down and let you win few rounds intentionally but you don't need to know that

he loves to kiss you sm, your cheeks are his fav place to smooch uwu. but don't forget to smooch him back hehe.

his love is is a mix of quality time and words of affection !

𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡!

omg he's gonna be so caring and protective towards you he's basically your second momma 😭

but don’t get fooled by his strong facade deep inside he's your lil kitty ready to be taken care of so plz do check on him and give him the affection he deserves

he gets seriously jealous whenever your paying too much attention on maeumi and she's reciprocating it with heavy affection. "cats are best" he would literally blurt out of nowhere and you can't help but laugh at his silly tantrum.

there will be times where won wouldn’t be feeling his best. all the stress, work and commotion tires him out sm yet he still feels like he's not the best. on those days he only seeks for your comfort. knowing very well all he needs is you beside him to make him feel better plz always love this boy he's gonna be a mess without you :(

his love is a mix of quality time and soft physical affection !

𝗝𝗔𝗬 !

rich sugar daddy bf but he actually acts like a dad lmao

if your eyes lingers on a item from more than 0.00001 seconds he'll buy it for you no matter what

he makes you lots of healthy homemade meals and does all the chores for you plz he's such a material man I want him 🛐

jay loves you alot and is always there to guide in every situation he'll be both mature and goofy cracking silly dad jokes to lighten up your mood girl you better appreciate this man and love him back 😾‼️

his love is a mix acts of service and words of affection !

𝗝𝗔𝗞𝗘!

so how does it feel to have a rizzmastser as your bf 😃? /j

he's so cute goofy and babygirl you wanna gatekeep him

he'll get excited over all sorts of lil things. will take you out on various fun dates like arcades, amusement parks, pet cafes but his most fav date place and activity is going out on a walk with you and layla in a nice, less crowded, green park uwu!

you’re basically layla's mom now. he'll let you play with her and take care of her in his absence (layla's so cute noo 😭)

another smooch lover but his fav place is the lips ;) his lips are basically glued to yours.

his love is a mix of quality time and physical affection !

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 !

awkward ahh goofy bf 😃

he's gonna be so unserious in general but dw he gets pretty mature and serious when he needs to be :)

he'll be a bit awkward at initiating affection first so if you take matters in hand and initiate affection first he'll be over the moon ahaha.

once he's opened up to you he'll be quite a affectionate guy but he isn’t a pda lover so behind closed doors he's all lovey dovey ^^

he'll let you play with gaeul and then he's gonna be like "gaeul is so lucky to have visual parents aka me n you 😌💅" and you’re like 😀👍 lmao

ice rink dates uwu. he's gonna be your personal figure skating coach &lt;3

his love language is definitely quality times !

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 !

the slayest bf ever im jealous 🥺

king of affection boy's literally gonna bicker about who's the most affectionate one or who's more slay lol.

lots of tteobokkie dates and self care nights

yall will do sleep overs and do each others skincare. he's practically gonna turn into your special dermatologist 💅

but he can be very serious and understanding. whenever your having a hard time he'll be there in a flash of light he understands you better than anyone in this world and is always there to cheer you up &lt;3

his love language is a mix of physical affection and quality time !

𝗡𝗜-𝗞𝗜 !

A 6'3" TEASE

but first he needs time to open up to you to get friendly enough to tease relentlessly

so when he gets all warmed up say bye bye to your life 😈 /j

he teases you and is very playful but dw he respects you alot too and is very understanding and serious when needed to be &lt;3

lots of piggyback rides from him, he loves to cuddle you and play footsies lol.

he loves to lay on your lap cuz in that position he can admire your pretty face and relax too 😍

he'll call you in his late night solo practices to showoff but it'll turn into a goofy dance session and filled with laughs and affection he's so 😢

he'll take you out on arcade or bowling dates and would tease the he'll out of you if you suck :D

insists on playing video games with you but it ends up with him doing some stupid bets you always keep losing 🙄 but dw he'll let you win time to time intentionally ;)

he'll be such a sillygoofy fun boyfie plz I want him he's so cool and cute

he's love language will be a mix of quality time and physical affection !

© aenfilmz /2023 !

taglist : @solarwoniii @shiningstar-byulxx @wtfhyuck

[ask-sister-solaris]

How do you think the papas will react to one of their ghouls getting overstimulated in public or dealing with depression?

-an overstimulated and depressed ghoul

Oh ghouleh 🫂

Primo:

- he notices and tries to get his ghoulehs attention

- takes the ghouleh to a quieter place and helps them

- gets water and something to eat, despite having to be onstage soon.

- cuddles if said ghouleh wants them.

- forehead kisses

Secondo:

- he notices while performing onstage and stops the performance.

- this confuses fans but when he leads the ghouleh offstage and sits them backstage it becomes clear

- sits with them until they feel slightly better

- gets noise cancellation headphones

- water and food before he goes back onstage

- cuddles after the ritual is over

Terzo:

- he addresses it onstage between songs and leads them offstage.

- he ignores the few fans that boo

- gets all the ghoulehs comfort objects and even spares his current jacket for a spare one so the ghouleh can have his scent.

- forehead kisses and snuggles

- sings to calm them

Copia:

- he knows how it is, he knows the signs

- during a costume change and takes said ghouleh with him and sits them with Imperator.

- explains to her exactly what’s happened and why they aren’t gonna be onstage for the rest of the set

- small smooches and light touches to not overstimulate ghouleh more

- gives them his military jacket to wear/put over their shoulders

- costume changes are quick but he makes sure to get his ghouleh some water and food.

Bonus: My OC

Sen Emeritus (Papa V)

- much like her father she knows when something is wrong.

- between songs she makes sure that ghouleh is okay, and leads em backstage

- sits them in her dressing room where it’s quiet and nice and cool.

- bottle of water and comfort snack

- has to rush back onstage but will definitely keep coming and checking on her during costume changes

[elysiaheaven]

"Pure Insatiablity"-[𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓-2] 𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐆.𝐍 (Yandere) 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 (𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐓)

Words:

Genre: Yandere/Fluff

Summary: After a small smooch session, You decided to ask him on a first date that is outside to an ice cream shop. You sadly realized how much your book is affected the 'simps' be careful, some people just might eye his aesthetic! You have a small motive too Mission : Invite him to a sleepover!

( Reader is a g.n!)

TW: Obsessive behaviour, Lovesick, Blood, Violence, Crazy! Your daily dose of cringe! (He's crazy ><), (Reader is obsessive in love with him) Mentions of disturbing poetic lines?

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named Killer chat! Please play it! It's so good! I think I need to do more research on him, If what I wrote doesn't really scream him! I'm sorry! I'm still learning abt him! I KNOW IT'S BAD I'M SORRYY!!

You and Ronin walked through the quiet streets, the echo of your footsteps bouncing off the alley walls. His hand gripped yours with just enough pressure to remind you of his presence. He was always like that—an anchor, pulling you deeper into his orbit, and you couldn’t help but sink further in your love with him.

But something nagged at you. It wasn’t jealousy, peruse, but curiosity. How did Angel deal with this devil. Some tips to make yourself interesting You bit your lip, trying to work up the nerve to ask.

"Ronin…" you started hesitantly, your voice small, but he just glanced at you, his eyebrow raised, as if daring you to continue.

"How was it… you and Angel? You know, when you were together?"

He didn’t respond immediately, his pace unchanged as you walked. For a moment, you thought he might ignore you altogether, but then he sighed, a slow, deliberate sound, his lips curling up into a dark smile.

"Keep thinkin’ about it in that pretty stupid little head of yours, darlin’," he teased, his voice dripping with that post-ironic bite that was so him. "But fine, if you really wanna know…" His tone shifted as he spoke, and you could tell he wasn’t playing games this time. His gaze turned cold, distant, like he was pulling from memories he wasn’t entirely comfortable revisiting.

"I felt safe with her, y’know?" He said it so casually, but there was something deeper in his words. "She was like… a reflection of something I couldn’t have anymore. I was projectin' Ther—onto her. Still got a lotta unprocessed shit about them. It's just two people were broken tryin to fix each other."

You blinked, trying to process that. "Ther?" You whispered. Yeah, you knew he mentioned it. Forsaken town, First love.

His grip on your hand tightened, and for a second, his eyes flashed with something colder than usual. "Stop carin’," he muttered, his voice sharp. "You’re askin’ all these stupid questions and you’re gonna get lost in ‘em. That what you want? To drown in this obsession you’ve got for me? ‘Cause I’ll let you. But stop stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and suddenly you felt that lovesick haze wrapping around your mind again, his voice pulling you deeper into it. You forgot, almost instantly, what you had just been talking about. All you could focus on was him. His presence, his voice, the way his hand felt against yours. Your mind whirled, caught in the spiral of your adoration for him.

He noticed, of course. He always did. He gave you that dark smile again, the one that told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"Why’d you even ask about Angel, huh?" His tone was challenging now, mocking, as if daring you to admit what you were really thinking.

"I… I just wanted to understand," you stammered, looking down at the ground. "I wanted to know how she was with you. For… tips."

He stopped walking then, turning to face you fully. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Tips for what, baby? You plannin’ somethin’ for Angel? If you do, I will have a reason to abuse my crowbar." His voice dropped, a dark serious tone....

You shook your head furiously, eyes wide. "No, no! I would never!" You gasped, the thought of hurting Angel—a sweetheart, someone who had been nothing but kind to you—making you feel sick. "Even if I’m crazy, I wouldn’t hurt her. She’s… she’s too nice. I care about her too much, Ronin."

You said it softly, almost to yourself, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. Your mind spun with the thought of Angel, how she’d always looked out for you, tried her best to help you, even when you were too far gone in your obsession with Ronin to notice sometimes.

Ronin watched you, that cold gaze of his never faltering. "That so?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "And here I thought you didn’t care ‘bout anyone but me."

"I don’t care about impressing you with that," you blurted, shaking your head again, a desperate edge to your voice. "I don’t need to do something crazy to make you notice me. I just… I have to be someone. Someone you find interesting. Someone who stands out, right?"

Ronin’s lips curled into a wicked smile, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he whispered, "You’re already like someone when you’re just normal."

You didn’t hear him—your mind too clouded, too wrapped up in him to catch the whisper.

You perked up suddenly, your eyes lighting up as a new thought crossed your mind. "Oh! I just remembered something!" you chirped, unable to contain your excitement.

Ronin raised an eyebrow, clearly not as enthusiastic as you were. "What now, darlin’?" he asked, voice tinged with mild annoyance, though he couldn’t quite hide the curiosity in his eyes.

"There’s a new ice cream shop near my place!" you said, practically bouncing on your heels. "We could go there, y’know? You could stash your stupid crowbar at my place, and then we can grab some ice cream. It'll be fun!"

For a moment, Ronin looked genuinely taken aback. His usual cold expression faltered, his eyes narrowing in what you could only describe as confusion. He stared at you, silent, and the longer he didn’t say anything, the more you started to worry. You bit your lip, fidgeting under his gaze.

"Ronin…?" you asked softly, concern creeping into your voice. "Are you… okay?"

His expression hardened, and he shook his head with a low chuckle, though there was something off about it. "You stalked me or somethin’ when I was a kid, huh? You have been to angeltown?" His tone was dry, almost mocking, but there was an undercurrent of something else—something more vulnerable, hidden beneath the layers of sarcasm.

"What?" You blinked, genuinely confused. "No! What are you talking about?"

"It’s nothin’," he muttered, eyes flicking away from yours as if he didn’t want to explain any further. "Just… remembered somethin’. Forget it."

But in truth, he was remembering something far more personal than he’d ever let on. Back in his small hometown, there was an old ice cream shop he used to frequent with his childhood best friend—his first love, Ther. They would go there all the time, sneaking off after school, sharing laughs and stolen glances over melting cones. His favorite flavor had been apple crumble, and somehow, that preference had stuck with him all these years, even as everything else changed.

It was a memory he didn’t care to revisit, especially not with you looking at him like that, all wide-eyed and hopeful, dragging him into your bright, pretty world.

"Okay," he finally said, voice low and resigned. He glanced down at you, and you could see the walls he always kept up, the ones you couldn’t ever fully break down.

Your eyes widened in excitement, your heart fluttering at the thought of something so simple, yet so intimate. Your first date with him—ice cream! "Oh my god, this is gonna be our first ice cream together!" you squealed, barely containing yourself. You tried to act cute, hoping for a rare smile from him.

But Ronin just sighed deeply, as if the very idea was exhausting. "Shut up," he muttered, his hand briefly ruffling your hair before pulling away. "So hopeless..."

"I’m sorry," you whispered, though you couldn’t hide the small grin tugging at your lips. "Hehe."

He rolled his eyes and just started walking ahead, his crowbar resting over his shoulder, not even bothering to check if you were following. Of course, you hurried to catch up, practically bouncing along next to him, whispering little apologies under your breath, giggling to yourself.

You reached your small, somewhat sad-looking house, a modest place nestled in the shadow of larger buildings. It wasn’t much, but it was yours, and right now, You turned to him, practically vibrating with excitement, pushing him lightly. "Come on, come in! Don’t be such a grump."

He looked at the house, then back at you, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t said a word about how unimpressive it was, but the way his eyes flicked over everything made you feel self-conscious for a moment. You almost wanted to apologize for it, but then again, this was Ronin. If he cared about things like that, you wouldn’t be here at all.

You changed the subject quickly, "They have apple crumble at the ice cream place, you know! It’s their famous flavor! But! we can try your fav too!"

Ronin’s gaze snapped back to you, and for a second, there was something unreadable in his eyes. His face hardened again as he narrowed his eyes at you. "How the hell do you know that’s my favorite flavor, darlin’?"

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "I didn’t! I just… It’s their famous one! I didn't know..!" You laughed awkwardly, hoping to shake off whatever tension had crept into the conversation.

But Ronin wasn’t letting it go. He stared at you, his expression shifting to one of suspicion. "You messin’ with me or somethin’? Huh?"

"What?" you said, confused and a little thrown off by his sudden shift in tone. "No! I wouldn’t—"

Before you could finish, he cut you off, "Forget it." He shook his head, almost like he was trying to shake off the conversation. "This is stupid. I don’t wanna go."

You could feel the excitement you’d built up start to deflate. You frowned slightly, watching him as he crossed his arms, his crowbar still hanging loosely from one hand. "Ronin, c’mon," you said softly, trying to calm him down. "Just relax a little, okay? Leave the crowbar here, at least. You don’t want people thinking you’re the Butcher, right?"

He gave you a look, his lips twitching upward in a smirk. "What, afraid the boys in blue are gonna catch me, darlin’?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed, a bit exasperated but still with a smile. "Just… humor me, alright? We don’t need the extra attention."

He chuckled darkly, looking at you with that familiar devilish glint in his eyes. "So careful… It’s sad, really. But I ain’t stupid. I know how to keep safe." He turned his head away, glancing toward the alley like he was already plotting his next escape route.

"Okay, then," you said, pressing him gently, trying to get him to focus. "So let’s go. Ice cream, remember?"

Ronin sighed heavily, dragging the crowbar along the ground for a moment before he finally propped it against your front step. "Christ, stop with the annoyin’—" He stopped himself, his voice cutting off mid-sentence as his gaze fell on you.

Your eyes met his, wide and pleading, and something in them seemed to stop him in his tracks. He looked at you for a long moment, his expression softening just a fraction. "Again with those eyes," he muttered, almost to himself. "Stop lookin’ at me like that."

"Like what?" you asked, confused and a little concerned by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

"Like that," he said, his voice lower now, a whisper that carried an edge of frustration. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "It’s too damn similar."

You blinked at him, more confused than ever. "Similar to what?"

He didn’t answer you, just stood there for a moment, his jaw clenched tight. Finally, he exhaled sharply, like he was forcing himself to drop whatever thought was running through his head. "It’s childish," he muttered. "This whole thing is stupid."

But even as he said it, Ronin pushed past you, walking toward the alley ahead of you like he had already given in. You smiled, hurrying to catch up with him, practically bouncing with excitement. This was a small victory—getting him to go, even if he was acting like it was a chore.

You tried to play it off, walking beside him and giving him a sidelong glance. "You don’t have to go if you really don’t want to, you know."

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his lips curling into a smirk. "Shut up, darlin’. You dragged me into this, now I’m gonna see it through."

You grinned, a blush creeping up your neck. "Okay, okay, I’ll stop talking. But… thanks for coming with me. I know it’s kinda… silly."

Ronin didn’t respond right away. He just kept walking, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his expression unreadable. After a few moments, he glanced over at you again, and for the briefest second, you thought you saw something softer beneath the usual cold exterior.

"Y’know," he said quietly, his voice almost too low to hear, "you’re more like someone than you realize. When you’re not actin’ all… lovesick."

You blinked at him, confused by his words. "What do you mean?"

He didn’t elaborate, just kept walking ahead, his pace quickening slightly as if he wanted to put some distance between you and the conversation. You furrowed your brows, wondering what he meant, but you didn’t press him. You were just happy he was here, with you, even if you didn’t understand everything that went through his head.

Ronin, hands in his pockets, posture effortlessly cool. He carried himself like the devil he pretended to be—like nothing ever fazed him. But you saw through it. You always did.

You smiled softly to yourself, tilting your head. "Did you miss me?" you asked, your voice innocent but layered with a lovesick longing that was impossible to hide. You always wanted to hear him say it, wanted him to acknowledge that he thought about you when you weren’t around.

Ronin’s smirk twitched. He was quick with his answer, too quick. "I was good. Y’know, like... I’m fine, darlin’." His voice was casual, but the way he flicked his gaze away from you betrayed him. He thought he was hiding it so well, but you could see the cracks. He wasn’t as cool and unaffected as he pretended to be.

You pursed your lips, a playful frown creasing your forehead as you watched him closely. "V lied about that too, didn’t he?" you pressed, your eyes narrowing just a little. "He told me you were fine without me, but... were you really okay, Ronin? With not talking to me?"

Your voice softened, a trace of vulnerability slipping through. You wanted to know the truth, wanted to hear it from him, even though you already suspected the answer.

Ronin’s jaw clenched, his hands digging deeper into his pockets. He was trying so hard to keep up the act, but you knew him too well. "I didn’t need to talk, I had to fuck up some cars." he said, his tone rougher than before, trying to deflect. "I was busy, y’know. Cleaning up my victims and all that." He shot you a devilish grin, trying to distract you with his usual dark humor. He wanted to keep it light, to rise you up out of your lovesick thoughts, but you could see right through him.

"Cleaning your victims, huh?" You let out a small laugh, tilting your head again as you walked a little closer to him, almost bumping his shoulder with yours. "Ronin, don’t lie to me. I know you better than that." Your voice was soft, gentle, but there was a certainty in it that made his attempt to dodge the question crumble even more.

He stopped walking for a second, glancing at you, his eyes darting to meet yours before looking away just as quickly. "It’s your fault I had to come out, you know?" he muttered, but the playful edge in his voice didn’t fully mask the truth. "I was layin’ low, had a good streak goin’, but no, you had to drag me back out, didn’t ya, darlin’? You should be sorry for ruining it."

"Sorry for ruining your perfect streak," you whispered, grinning despite the mock seriousness of his tone. But there was something in his words that made your heart skip a beat, something in the way he was still here with you, in the way he hadn’t really wanted to stay away.

He turned his head to look at you, and for a moment, his smirk faltered, his eyes flicking up and down as if he were sizing you up. "Grow some spine, will ya? You’re actin’ all pathetic," he teased, but there was no real venom in his voice. Just that post-ironic attitude, the way he tried so hard to play the role of the devilish rogue, but underneath it, you could feel the truth.

And it was so sweet, so Ronin. He thought he was being smooth, but you could see the cracks in his armor, and it only made you love him more.

"I’m not pathetic," you whispered, your heart fluttering as you took another step closer to him. "You missed me, didn’t you?" Your voice was lovesick, hopelessly romantic, like you were clinging to every word, every chance he’d let slip that maybe, just maybe, you meant something to him.

Ronin huffed, rolling his eyes, but his lips twitched again, betraying the fact that he couldn’t quite keep up the act. "You’re makin’ this harder than it needs to be, darlin’. I’m tellin’ ya, I was fine."

You smiled softly, tilting your head as you gazed up at him, your eyes soft with affection. "You weren’t fine," you said gently. "You missed me, didn’t you?"

He stopped walking again, his gaze locking onto yours. There was a brief silence, just the sound of your footsteps on the pavement and the distant hum of the city. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at you, trying to keep up the facade, trying to maintain that devil-may-care attitude he always wore like a mask.

But you could see it, the way his eyes softened just a little, the way his posture relaxed ever so slightly. He was trying so hard to hide it, but he wasn’t doing a very good job.

"Christ," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "You’re impossible."

You giggled softly, feeling your heart swell with affection. "I knew it."

Ronin’s lips twitched again, and he glanced away, trying to regain his composure. "Stop actin’ so smug about it," he grumbled, but there was no real bite in his words. He was giving in, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

"You’re just my Ronin," you whispered, your voice full of that lovesick adoration that made him roll his eyes, but deep down, you knew he didn’t mind it as much as he pretended to.

You entered the small, brightly lit ice cream shop, a chime from the door announcing your arrival. The cool air hit your skin as you walked in, but something about the place felt off immediately. It wasn’t the place itself—it was the way every pair of eyes inside turned to look at Ronin the second he stepped through the door. The cashiers at the counter, the waitstaff, even a few customers… all of them paused, their gazes lingering on him for just a second too long, whispering and giggling among themselves.

Ronin noticed too, but, in typical fashion, he didn’t seem to care. He just strolled in like he owned the place, finding a booth in the corner and sitting down casually, his back resting against the wall. You followed, but as you took your seat across from him, you could feel your frustration building. Those eyes on him… the way they looked at him like he was some kind of sideshow attraction—it made your skin crawl.

You glanced at him, but he seemed perfectly at ease, arms stretched out along the back of the booth, his lips twitching into a faint smirk as he scanned the menu lazily. "So," he drawled, flicking his gaze up to meet yours. "What’re you having’?"

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes still scanning the room, catching more of those glances, more of those giggles from across the counter. Why were they looking at him like that? Maybe it was just coincidence. Maybe it was… something else. You forced yourself to focus and asked, “What do you want?”

Ronin leaned forward just slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Apple crumble," he said, his voice low and teasing, like it was some private joke. He knew you’d catch the significance.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to stay composed, biting your lip as you glanced at the menu. "I… I don’t know what I want," you mumbled, feeling a little lost in your thoughts.

Ronin gave you a long, unreadable look, then leaned back again, his expression softening for just a second before he shrugged. "Get that 'flavor-name,' Ain’t it your favorite?"

You blinked, surprised. "Y-yeah, it is…" You smiled softly, nodding, but there was something distant about his expression, something faraway that flickered across his eyes for just a moment before he bounced back, his devil-may-care smirk returning. You were about to ask him what that was when a waitress appeared at your table.

She was all smiles, her attention laser-focused on Ronin like you weren’t even there. "Hi there! What can I get for you?" she asked, completely ignoring you. Your fingers clenched into fists under the table, a wave of irritation bubbling up inside you. But before you could say anything, Ronin answered, his tone cool and detached.

"Apple crumble."

The waitress giggled, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "That’s a great choice! Is your style, like, inspired by that serial killer book? You know, the one with the guy who—" She trailed off, giggling again, clearly trying to flirt.

Your heart dropped. You knew exactly what she was talking about. It was your book. The one you’d written, the one where the main character was based on none other than Ronin himself. And these idiots didn’t even realize it was you sitting right there. But of course, they’d recognized the clothing style—his whole look was...written by you the way you saw him!, the subtle touches only someone who knew would notice.

Before you could snap at her, tell her to fuck off and that it was your book, Ronin spoke up, his tone dark and playful. "Well, I know the writer personally," he said, his gaze drifting toward you with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Got plenty of inspiration, actually. And I think the writer did a damn fine job… wouldn't you say?"

The waitress, clueless, just laughed, her eyes still locked on Ronin. "Wow, really? Well, they must be really good at what they do!" She leaned in slightly, biting her lip. "You’re cute, you know that? I bet they wrote the character to be onto someone like me, huh?"

That was it. You snapped.

"Could you fuck off? you growled, your voice low and dangerous, every ounce of your lovesick adoration for Ronin now tinged with a fiery possessiveness. "I don’t care if you thinks he's-cute—I have money, and I’m not here for your stupid comments."

The waitress blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst. She let out a small huff and muttered something under her breath before walking off to place your order, but it was too late. Your anger was already burning hot, threatening to bubble over into something darker, something primal.

Ronin chuckled, his gaze sliding back to you, his eyes filled with that same devilish amusement. "Feelin’ a little murderous, are we, darlin’?" he teased, leaning forward, his voice a low purr. "You looked like you were about to tear her apart. Got something you wanna share?"

You clenched your jaw, trying to calm the storm inside you, but it was so hard when he was right there, taunting you, pushing all the right buttons like he always did. "I just…" You swallowed, your voice shaking with the intensity of your emotions. "I just can’t stand the way she looked at you. Like she had a chance."

Ronin smirked, leaning back in his seat again. "So, you’re jealous, huh? That’s cute. Really cute."

"Shut up," you muttered, but your voice lacked any real bite. You were lovesick, and he knew it. He always knew exactly how to twist you around his finger.

"Come on, darlin'," he whispered, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "She was harmless. Just a dumb waitress tryin’ to flirt. But you…" He leaned in close again, his breath warm against your ear. "You’re the one I’m here with, aren’t ya?"

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at you with that unreadable expression. You could tell something was stirring beneath the surface, but with Ronin, it was always hard to tell what exactly. Finally, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Damn, darlin’, you’re worse than those fangirls and fanboys who come ‘round hopin’ to see the style in the flesh.”

You blinked in confusion, not quite sure what he meant. “What?”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with amusement. “Y’know, when I’m at the garage, workin’ on scooters or cars—people come in, they recognize the style. The way I dress. The way I act.” He paused, his grin widening. “You wrote it so damn well that people think it’s me in real life. It’s like a show every time. They get all worked up, thinkin’ they’ve spotted the real deal.”

Your jaw clenched. Anger bubbled inside you again, not at him—never really at him—but at the world for not understanding that you were the one who crafted him so carefully, so intimately. You created this version of him, this persona that everyone else now saw as their own discovery. It made your blood boil, the way they fawned over him, completely missing the deeper connection you had.

Ronin’s eyes flicked over to you, and you knew he saw it. That anger bubbling beneath the surface, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. But, of course, Ronin was always good at seeing through you, pulling at the threads just to see how far you’d unravel.

He leaned forward, his smirk darkening. “Look at you, darlin’. You’re tryin’ so hard to keep that pretty little face of yours calm, but I can see it. You hate the way they look at me, don’t you? All that attention, all those eyes, and none of ‘em know what it’s really like to be close to me. But you do.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt yourself trembling, your pulse quickening. He was doing it again—getting inside your head, stirring up all those feelings that you tried so hard to control. And you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want to stop it.

“Of course I do,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I hate it when they act like they know you. They don’t. They don’t know you, not like I do.”

Ronin laughed softly, a low, mocking sound that made your heart ache and flutter at the same time. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that? Worse than the rest of ‘em, even. But that’s what makes you so fun, baby. The way you get all wound up over me.”

He was right, of course. You were worse than them. You were completely consumed by him, and he knew it. Every little look, every word, every touch sent you spiraling deeper into your obsession. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I don’t care what you think,” you muttered, even though you knew it was a lie. “I just… I hate that they don’t see the real you. They just see the version of you that I wrote.”

Ronin’s eyes darkened, his smirk fading into something more serious, more intense. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “And what is the real me, huh? The one you see? The one you wrote?”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “The real you… you’re mine,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “You’re my Ronin.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at you with that same unreadable expression. Then, slowly, his smirk returned, darker and more dangerous than before. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice sending a thrill through your veins. “I guess I am, darlin’. I guess I am.”

Your heart swelled at his words, even though you knew better than to take them at face value. He was always playing games, always toying with your emotions, and yet, you couldn’t help but fall deeper every time.

“Shut up,” you muttered, but there was no heat behind your words. You were completely and utterly lovesick, and he knew it.

Ronin grinned, leaning back again with a satisfied smirk. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now, stop lookin’ so pissed, and enjoy your damn ice cream, darlin."

He finished his, soon.

Ronin leaned back with a long, exaggerated sigh as he shoved another bite of his apple crumble ice cream into his mouth. "One ice cream, darlin’? This is all we’re doin’? Christ, I’m tired of this bullshit already,” he grumbled, though you could see the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. As always, he played at annoyance, but you knew better.

You smiled softly, spooning some of your ice cream as he shoveled through his. “If you’re tired, we can get out of here,” you said, trying not to sound too eager. You didn’t want to rush him, but the thought of spending more time together made your heart race.

He paused mid-scoop, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “You done already?”

You nodded, even though a part of you didn’t want to admit it. "Yeah… I mean, if you want another scoop though…”

He scoffed, looking distanced for a moment before narrowing his eyes, trying to read you. “Another scoop?” he repeated, almost like he was testing you.

You smiled, pushing through the tension. “I’ll buy it for you if you want.”

Ronin blinked, his expression unreadable for a second before he shook his head, letting out another one of those dramatic sighs. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You get me too well, it’s scary. Almost like you’re in my head sometimes.”

You couldn’t help but grin at that, your heart fluttering at the way he said it, even if it was meant to be a jab. “Well, it’s my turn to spoil you a little,” you said, winking playfully.

Ronin snorted, rolling his eyes. “Your bullshit’s so cute it’s killin’ me,” he muttered in that mock-annoyed tone, though the slight crinkle in his eyes told you he wasn’t really annoyed at all. He liked playing along, rising you up because it amused him, but there was always that undercurrent of something deeper. He didn’t admit it outright, but you could tell he enjoyed these moments—just you and him, even in the simplest ways.

You both stared at each other for a second, and then, with a shrug, he relented. “Fine. I want another scoop.”

Your smile grew, and you couldn’t help the way your heart swelled. “Alright. One more, coming right up.”

When the waitress brought the extra scoop, Ronin wasted no time digging in, and you watched him with quiet adoration. Every bite he took, every small, almost unconscious movement, made you feel like you were watching something special—something only you were privy to. It was ridiculous, but you couldn’t help it. He was your Ronin, no matter how much he pretended to push you away.

After a few bites, he caught you staring and raised an eyebrow. “What’re you lookin’ at?”

You blinked, snapping out of your lovesick daze, a small flush rising to your cheeks. “Nothing,” you muttered quickly, looking down at your empty bowl. “Just… you seem to be enjoying that.”

He paused, studying your face for a second before smirking. “You’re so easy to mess with, darlin’. But yeah, I guess it’s not bad.” He took another large bite, savoring it a little too dramatically to not be teasing you.

You couldn’t help but smile again. “I’m glad.”

Ronin let out a low chuckle, finishing his ice cream before standing up and stretching lazily. “Alright, that’s enough sugar for one night. Let’s get outta here.”

You nodded, standing up as well, though you hesitated for a second. “You sure you don’t want another scoop?”

He shot you a look, exasperated but amused. “Don’t push it. You already spoiled me enough.”

As you both made your way toward the exit, you couldn’t help the lightness in your step, even though you knew he’d never outright admit it. These small moments, even when filled with his teasing and sarcasm, meant more to you than he could ever know.

Ronin glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. "Stop grinnin’ like an idiot. You’re makin’ me regret ever lettin’ you spoil me.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide, but the warmth inside you was impossible to contain. "You’re welcome, Ronin."

He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything more, just shoved his hands into his pockets and walked beside you, the night air cool and crisp as you both left the ice cream shop behind.

You said your goodbyes with him. Tho, he didn't show it. You can see maybe he did enjoy this day..

Things weren't so great.

You felt the familiar vibration of your phone as you made your way back to your house, alone after parting ways with Ronin. Your heart was still fluttering from the whole night, but the moment you saw the names on your notifications, reality hit like a truck. Angel, V, Misaki—they were all on your case, blowing up your phone.

You sighed, unlocking it and seeing their frantic DMs, especially from Angel, who was trying her best to keep V from spiraling.

Angel:

"Hey, I talked to V. He's pissed. I tried calming him down, but it's not working. You and Ronin really need to explain what happened. V is not gonna let this slide unless someone takes responsibility."

Your heart sank as you read her message, realizing just how badly things were spiraling. You quickly shot her a message back, hoping to at least ease her a little.

You:

"I went on a date with Ronin…"

It wasn’t long before Angel replied, and her concern bled through the screen.

Angel:

"A date? Oh god… Look, I’m not mad, but this is going to be a mess. V’s furious. Misaki’s trying to play it cool, but they feel bad for you. Just… be prepared. You need to explain everything. V won’t let it go."

As if on cue, your phone buzzed again, this time a notification from none other than Goreboy—Ronin’s online persona. You knew it was him even before you read the message, and something about his casual, detached tone made your heart race.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"What now, Darlin’? Don’t Freak. Just Follow My lead."

It was typical Ronin, brushing it off like it wasn’t a big deal, as if he hadn’t just upended your whole situation. Still, his confidence was oddly reassuring, and you couldn’t help but trust him.

You:

"Are you sure?"

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Yes."

That was all you needed. You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable storm as you all joined the group VC. The moment you entered, V was already going off.

"Explain yourself, Ronin!" V barked, his voice sharp and accusatory. "I don’t care what you think you’re doing. You should’ve stayed away from them!"

Ronin’s voice came through, calm and post-ironic as ever. "Y’know, V, you’re really makin’ this more fun than it needs to be." He drawled lazily, as if V’s anger was nothing more than a mild annoyance to him. "I didn’t ‘come after’ them, if that’s what you’re thinkin’. They showed up in my alley. I was just mindin’ my own business, darlin’ here just had to check on me."

You felt the familiar tug of lovesick warmth as he said that. He was defending himself, but in a way that still made it sound like it was your fault for being tempted by him. He knew how much you adored him, how much you’d do anything to be in his orbit. He played with it, as always.

V wasn’t having it, though. "Bullshit. You knew they’d come after you if you showed yourself. This is on you, Ronin. You’re dragging them into your mess."

Before you could stop yourself, you stepped in, heart racing. "No, V, it’s my fault. I… I wanted to see Ronin. It wasn’t him dragging me anywhere."

There was a heavy silence in the chat after you spoke. Angel and Misaki were quiet, unsure how to approach the situation. Misaki finally broke the silence, their voice soft but clear. "Poor you…" they muttered, almost to themselves

Angel sighed, her voice filled with sympathy. "Maybe… maybe it’s best to let them handle their own business. This is getting complicated."

V, however, wasn’t backing down. "This isn’t just their business. Ronin, you know better. You’ve got some sick game going on, and it’s not fair to them!"

Ronin laughed, the sound dark and mocking. "Oh, , I’m always playin’ games. You know that. But this time? I was just tempted. What can I say?" He chuckled again, clearly enjoying how much this was getting under V’s skin. "Besides, I told ‘em it was their fault for comin’ after me. I’m the devil, remember? It’s so easy to pull them in."

Your heart pounded in your chest as he said that, and something inside you snapped. "Stop blaming Ronin!" you yelled, voice cracking slightly. "It’s my fault! I wanted to see him! I’m the one who—"

Ronin’s voice cut you off, quieter but far more intense. "Enough." The weight of his tone silenced everyone. "It’s my fault I was tempted. That’s the truth. But you," he paused, and you could almost feel his eyes on you through the screen, "you need to log off for a bit. Let me handle this."

You hesitated, torn between your need to defend him and the strange, commanding weight his words held over you. You were lovesick, desperate to stay, to stand up for him, but he was telling you to go.

Angel spoke softly. "Maybe… maybe it’s for the best. Just… take a break for a bit. Let Ronin and V handle this."

Ronin’s voice came again, a little softer, though the devilish edge remained. "Yeah, darlin’. Log off. I’ll deal with V."

With a heavy heart, you nodded, even though no one could see you. "Okay," you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. "I’ll… I’ll go."

As soon as you logged off the call, Ronin messaged you, and all the other frantic DMs from V, Angel, and Misaki vanished into the background, their notifications irrelevant. It was like the world narrowed down to just Ronin—his presence wrapping around you like a vice.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Just kidding, darlin'."

Your heart skipped a beat. Kidding? Before you could even ask, his next message came through.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Logged off with Ya. Figured the show’s over, huh? Don’t worry, it’s all Part of the Game"

You stared at your phone, anger bubbling up. What the hell did he mean by that? You quickly shot him a message.

You:

"What the fudge did you do, Ronin?

His response came almost instantly, like he was just waiting for your reaction.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Relax, darlin'. Just played a little game. Y'know how V gets with his 'fucking justice' and 'fucking morals'. Thought I’d Ruffle his feathers a bit. It’s kinda Funny, don’tcha think?"

"Played a little game, that's all."

He sent the message so casually, as if the chaos he just caused was nothing. You could practically feel the smugness radiating from his words.

You:

"Annoying! I can't see anyone's messages except yours!"

He responded instantly, his words quick, almost playful.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Of course. It’s just You and Me, darlin’. Lovers tryna enjoy each other Without the Bullshit distractions. But V, with his fucking morals and justice, thinkin' you're getting influenced by yours truly."

His words dripped with that usual post-ironic tone, mocking yet dead serious. And somehow, that made your heart race even more. You knew he was right, at least about one thing: you were completely under his spell.

You:

"That’s… true."

There was a pause before his reply came through, and you could almost see him grinning on the other side of the screen.

Goreboy (Ronin):

But you Love* it, don't you, Darlin'?"

Your breath caught in your throat as you typed your response, fingers trembling slightly.

You:

"Yes…"

He was quick to pounce on that, pushing you further into his devilish web.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"I know ya do. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. So go with the flow!

His words made your pulse quicken, the way he so easily took control of the situation, twisting it into something that was just between the two of you. His devilish charm always made you feel like you were playing a dangerous game, but you couldn’t help but crave more.

You:

"It's annoying how well you know me."

Goreboy (Ronin):

"I had a Good Time Today, by the way."

You nearly jumped out of your chair, excitement bubbling up inside you. Your fingers instinctively kissed your palms, a gesture you often did when the thrill of your affection overwhelmed you.

You:

"Really? Oh my god, that’s so cute! I’m literally squealing right now!"

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Christ, you’re Ridiculous. It's Embarrassing, honestly."

You could almost picture him rolling his eyes on the other side of the screen, but that only fueled your excitement more.

You:

"I can't help it! My love is riding the park on a unicorn of feelings!"

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Ew. Seriously? What the Hell is wrong with You?"

But deep down, you knew he loved it.

You:

"So… is apple crumble your favorite flavor or what?" You asked, half-joking.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"No shit, Sherlock. How Pathetic is it that you don’t even know what I like?"

You pouted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and defiance.

You:

"Well, you never tell me a lot about yourself!"

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Hmm, is that the case? You think I’m just gonna spill my guts to you, sweetheart? Maybe you’re just too wrapped up in your little fantasy world to notice."

You suddenly got a notification. Decided to check it than Check Ronin.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"........."

"Hello, Hell to Y/n."

"So, how’s your book coming along? I hope you’re writing about me, of course."

Dude, was down bad. He won't admit it of course. In truth the Devil wants yours attention.

Of course you are dumb to realize that he wants it. After seeing the nofication. You saw his messages

You couldn’t help but smile, a mix of pride and mischief bubbling inside you.

You:

" Oh, expect justice! I’m writing everything down! V is going to be sad because I got distracted by you, and now I have to rewrite so much."

Goreboy (Ronin):

" You finally replied. Ah, so I’m a Good inspiration For you, huh? How Adorable’."

The way he said “adorable” sent a thrill through you, igniting something darker beneath the surface.

You:

"It’s crazy! I even wrote about how much I love you, Ronin. It’s all in there—gore and all!"

His laughter came through the screen, dark and enticing.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Well, if we’re being honest here, My love for blood is Pretty Poetic, wouldn’t you say? It’s the ultimate Expression of affection. Give Me Your Aorta, sweetheart. Let me have it."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, a strange thrill coursing through you as you pictured the grotesque imagery he conjured.

You:

"You want my aorta? For you, it’s yours. It’s not like I need it, right?"

Goreboy

"Aw, So cute."

K9 requests to message you

Goreboy (Ronin)

"V is really Trying to get you to Talk, but I Don’t Wanna deal with him right now. What Do you think? Focus on me or let Him Blabber on?"

You thought for a moment, weighing the options.

You:

"I guess we could let V talk... he does seem like he has something to say."

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Nope. I think you Should Focus On Me. I have a Better idea."

Your curiosity piqued.

You:

"What do you mean?"

Goreboy (Ronin):

"How about a round of Truth or Dare? I haven’t played that with you in ages, and it could be fun."

It took a second for the realization to hit you. This was a game you hadn’t played in forever, but the thrill of it sent a shiver down your spine.

You:

"Oh, I like the sound of that! But what about V?"

Goreboy (Ronin):

"We’ll deal with V later. Besides, if you Need Me to distract You from him, then I’m all yours."

His words were laced with something deeper, something tantalizing. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

You:

"So, you think your flesh and bone is enough to keep me distracted?"

He grinned, and it was the kind of grin that sent your heart racing.

Goreboy (Ronin):

"I bet I can Keep you Plenty Entertained."

You both laughed, the tension dissipating into playful banter.

You:

"Oh, please. You think you're all that? What’s so Special about You?"

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Well, for starters, "Insert your liking about Ronin's character" . That’s pretty rare, don’t you think?"

You:

"Right, right. How Romantic."

Goreboy (Ronin):

"I know, I’m like a walking Romance novel, just with a bit more Blood and Guts."

You giggled, the absurdity of it making your heart flutter.

You:

"I can’t decide if that’s charming or disturbing."

Goreboy (Ronin):

"Why not both? It’s like the Best of Both Worlds, darling."

sorry for ppl who thinks this story will be sooooooooooo cute ^^