#a buttery kind of week I guess

[eyra]

hi :) I just wanted to say, because I’m reading your latest masterpiece now (after having read most of your wolfstar work), that your writing is so very beautiful and so soothing, and poetic, and full of emotions, and yet seems so simple at the same time, it’s incredible, I hope you never stop writing, I’d read your shopping list and enjoy it, hope you’re having a lovely day:)

asks like this truly keep me going. it's such an understatement to say that you guys make my day whenever I read messages like this one. thank you 🤍 I too hope I never stop writing. it's the thing that makes me truly happy. x

p.s. my current shopping list reads:

lurpak salted butter aloe vera bin bags

I'm sorry x

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3

A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo

Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.

“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.

“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.

“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.

He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.

“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”

By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.

He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.

"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.

Him and his messes.

He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.

Three weeks later.

While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.

You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.

Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.

“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.

“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.

“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.

“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.

“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”

“Just… what?” He takes another bite.

“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”

“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”

“I already did that-”

“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.

Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.

“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.

“Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.

“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

About a week later is when the phone calls started.

Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.

As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.

Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.

"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.

Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."

"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.

"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."

Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"

Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.

"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.

Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."

You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.

"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.

"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.

"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.

Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.

That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.

"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.

"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.

"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.

"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.

"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"

"No, Buck I wasn't-"

His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."

"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.

He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.

The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.

You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.

"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"

"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."

Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.

"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.

"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.

Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.

Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.

Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.

Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.

"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.

Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.

As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.

"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.

The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.

"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.

Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.

The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.

"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.

Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."

"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.

"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.

"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"

Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.

You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.

Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...

Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.

Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.

Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.

The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.

Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.

"Look at how good you take it,"

"Oh, God!"

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Mhm,"

"I can't hear you, princess,"

"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."

"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"

The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.

The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.

The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.

The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.

Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.

“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.

You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”

Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.

“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.

“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.

“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”

Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”

You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”

“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”

“Hailee!!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”

*Ding*

“Hang on, I just got a text.”

“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.

Together you read the message:

Part 2

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

[midnightwritingsessions]

Autumn walks and warm lattes

Summary: Billie and you go on an early autumn walk with shark and stopped off at a coffee shop

Masterlist

Requested

-

The autumn air was crisp and cool, the kind of weather that left your nose tingling and cheeks rosy. Golden leaves crunched underfoot as you walked beside Billie, her dog, Shark, trotting happily ahead, his leash clutched loosely in her gloved hand. The little pit bulls excitement was infectious; his tail wagged furiously as he darted from side to side, investigating every pile of leaves he encountered. “Shark, come on!” Billie called, laughing as he attempted to dig into yet another pile of damp foliage. She turned to you with a grin, her eyes sparkling under the brim of her beanie. “I swear he thinks he’s a treasure hunter or something”. “Maybe he’ll find gold under there” you teased, nudging her playfully with your elbow. “Or a half-eaten sandwich”.

Billie groaned. “Ugh, don’t even joke about that. Last week he found a chicken nugget, and I swear he’s been on a mission to top it ever since”. You both laughed, your breath forming little puffs in the chilly air. It was one of those perfect fall mornings, where the cold wasn’t biting but refreshing, and the world seemed coated in shades of amber and crimson. The quiet residential street was lined with towering trees, their branches still clinging to the last of their leaves. The gentle rustle of wind mixed with the crunch of Shark’s little paws as he led the way. “So” Billie began, her voice soft, “remind me again why I agreed to this?”.“Because Shark was literally staring at you like he was planning a rebellion if you didn’t take him out” you replied with a grin. “And because I promised you coffee after”. Billie sighed dramatically, though her smile never faltered. “Fine, fine. I guess coffee makes it worth it. But you owe me extra whipped cream”. “Deal”.

The two of you meandered through the neighborhood, talking about everything and nothing. Shark kept things lively, stopping every few steps to sniff or investigate. Occasionally, Billie would crouch down to pet him or untangle his leash from a lamp post, her laugh soft and warm as she did. It was moments like these- simple, quiet, and unhurried that felt the most special. Just Billie, Shark, and you, sharing an ordinary morning in the most extraordinary way.

Eventually, you reached the small café on the corner, its windows fogged up from the heat inside. The rich aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries wafted out as Billie pushed the door open with her shoulder, holding it for you as you followed her in. Shark waited patiently outside, tied securely to the post with his little sweater on, earning adoring looks from passers-by’s. Inside, you ordered your drinks, a latte for her with extra whipped cream, and your favorite for yourself. Billie added a couple of croissants to the order, insisting that autumn mornings required something buttery and flaky. As you waited, she leaned against the counter, her eyes on you. “What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Nothing” she said with a small smile. “You just look really cute with your hair all messy like that”.

Your cheeks warmed despite the cold, and you swatted her arm lightly. “Shut up”. “I’m serious!” she insisted, her laugh low and musical. “You’re adorable”. You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Moments like these were what made being around Billie so easy, she had a way of making everything feel light and safe, like the world was a little less heavy when she was near.

When your drinks were ready, you grabbed them and headed back outside to Shark, who greeted you both with an excited bark. Billie handed you her coffee to hold while she crouched down to pet him. “Miss me, little dude?” she asked, ruffling his ears.

You handed her drink back, and the three of you continued on your way, heading toward the nearby dog park. It was a small but well-kept space, with plenty of room for Shark to run around. The park was busy, filled with other dog owners and their pups, and Shark wasted no time diving into the action, sniffing at new friends and chasing after an enthusiastic Golden Retriever. Billie leaned against the fence, her coffee in one hand, the other tucked into her jacket pocket. She watched Shark with a soft smile, her beanie slightly askew from the wind. “He’s so happy” she murmured, almost to herself.

You stepped closer, your shoulder brushing hers. “He’s not the only one”. She glanced at you, her cheeks pink, not just from the cold, you thought. “Yeah” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s a good day”. The two of you stood there for a while, sipping your coffee and watching Shark play. At one point, he returned to you both, panting happily and plopping down at Billie’s feet as if to say, Okay, I’m done now. She bent down to scoop him up, cradling him against her chest. “Alright, bud” she said, her voice warm and affectionate. “Let’s head home”

As you walked back together, Shark snuggled in Billie’s arms, his little sweater slightly askew, you couldn’t help but feel like this was exactly where you were meant to be. The crisp autumn air, Billie’s easy laugh, and the quiet comfort of being with someone who made even the simplest moments feel special, it was all perfect.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 3: Take It All✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: This series is quickly becoming one of my favorites to write. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading for me 🥰

Chapter Summary: Another night back at Club Inferno comes with more than you bargained for. There’s pleasure, but something else starts slipping through. That something might be feelings.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6.8k

Tags: Dom! Joel, soft! Joel, flirting, feelings, pining, unprotected piv, fingering, so much filth, a little angst, Joel takes you on the pool table

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  “Shut up! No he didn’t!” Brianna screams over the rim of her cold glass of strawberry wine. 

   “Yeah,” you giggle as Taylor joins in on the screaming chaos. 

   “You mean to tell me that man took you into his private room and went down on you?” Taylor asks excitedly as she pauses 10 Things I Hate About You and sets the black controller on the rustic coffee table.

   “Mhm,” you hum shyly over a mouthful of bubbling wine. 

   Brianna leans forward on the violet couch and curls her fingers into the velvet of her cotton blanket. “Did he make you come?” she asks with raised eyebrows, like she’s investigating you for anything you might be keeping from her. 

   You swallow some wine and clear your throat as your cheeks turn a bright red color. “Three times,” you say shyly as you push a lock of hair behind your ear.

   Brianna spits out a mouthful of wine into her glass, and Taylor nearly falls off the edge of the couch. “No he did not, shut the fuck up!” Brianna shouts as she reaches over and grabs onto your pink blanket that’s sprawled across your lap freely. 

   “Three times? Holy shit,” Taylor whispers as her green flecked eyes grow wide. 

   “Three times,” you confirm as you push your back into the soft cushions of the couch. “And I may have deep throated him…” you giggle out as your cheeks grow hot.

   “You little slut!” Brianna teases as she jumps out of her seat and joins you on the opposite side of the sectional. “Three times? God, that must’ve been amazing. And his cock? Was he big?”

   “So big,” you gush as you sip more of the cool beverage in your hand. 

   “You lucky girl! Evan doesn’t even make me orgasm three times,” Taylor whines as she leans over and grabs a handful of buttery popcorn. “He must like you a lot.”

   “Oh, I don’t know…” you say skeptically as you play absentmindedly with the fringe on the end of the soft blanket.

   “Don’t play coy with me!” Taylor shouts across the end of the sofa, glittering eyes all on you as she waits for you to continue. “So, what happened after?”

   You rake a hand nervously over your thigh and look up innocently. “Well, it was kind of weird, I guess. He, ummm… he cuddled with me. Like in a soothing, gentle way, and he told me to relax because I was tense. And I just kinda sank down into his chest while his fingers brushed over my arms. And it just felt… safe.”

   Brianna and Taylor give each other a knowing glance, one only shared between the two of them. You know that look, the serious and concerned look. 

   “Babe,” Brianna says gently as she puts a hand softly on your knee, “that’s called aftercare. It’s normal, or it should be.”

   “Yeah, I know. It just kinda startled me. I wasn’t… expecting that, you know? It kinda scared me.”

   Brianna nods your way and keeps her light brown eyes on yours. “Yeah, I get it. But not all the guys are going to be like… well, you know who. It sounds like Joel is a good guy. From the sounds of it, he seems to like you a lot.”

   You smile warmly as you look back down and nod your head while you twist your fingertips into the edge of your silky shorts. “Maybe. He got me chicken and water after he cuddled with me. He didn’t even have chicken in the back of the club before last week. I kinda complained there weren't any food options at the bar, and I guess he took it to heart.”

   “What the hell, that man does like you!” Taylor screams across the way which nearly sends you into shock. “Chicken? He made you chicken? One of your favorite things to eat? That’s insane, and you didn’t even have to ask. Yes, babe! He likes you a lot! I don’t know another man that would do that. None of my hookups ever went that far for me. Seriously, I’m so happy we pushed you to go talk to him.”

   You giggle out and shake your head, flipping your phone over in your shaking hands as you think of those smoldering dark eyes and devilish smirk. “I’m glad you guys made me go talk to him. He’s ummm… pretty great.”

   Taylor throws a sequenced teal pillow at your arm and talks through a mouth full of popcorn, “Are you gonna see him again?”

   “Yeah, Saturday,” you blush as you smile nervously her way. 

   “Oh, look at you! Gonna go back to his playroom while he has his way with you? Kinky girl. God, it’s like something out of Fifty Shades.” 

   “Bri!” you laugh as you shove her in the shoulder while she nearly spills her wine all over her lap. “It’s not like that.”

   “No? So the man didn’t have you ride his thigh in a dark hallway where anyone could see, and he didn’t take you back to his private room and give you the best three orgasms of your life?”

   “I mean, yes, but no! He’s not like some intense BDSM man. He’s warm, gentle, a bit of a dom, and the man says absolute filth, but he’s so… sweet, too.”

   Taylor and Brianna raise their eyebrows at you and smirk. Oh no. That can’t be good. Who knows what kind of insanity is about to come out of their mouths. 

   “Sounds like he’s the perfect Christian Grey then, yeah?” Taylor laughs while you throw the pillow back at her. 

   “You guys are too much,” you smile. 

   Suddenly, your phone lights up as it buzzes in your lap. You unlock the screen, and your eyes light up like a Christmas tree when you see Joel’s name scrolled across the screen. You giggle like a little school girl who’s about to get a handful of candy when you read his text. 

   Joel: Passed by the library today on my way to work. Made me think of you. Almost stopped in, but figured you’d already be off. Maybe I should’ve tried my luck. Might’ve got to see those beautiful eyes of yours in the sunlight. See ya Saturday, angel. ;)

   You can’t stop smiling, your cheeks feel like they’re stretched to their limit as you curl your toes underneath you and squeeze your fingers around the delicate blanket. Joel sure knows how to make your heart flutter uncontrollably. 

   “What are you beaming about, hmm? Is it Mr. Club Owner?” Taylor laughs from the other side of the couch. 

   “Let’s see.” Brianna snatches your phone from your clutch, and you try to dive for it, but she holds it up to where you can’t reach. 

   “Bri, give it!”

   “Oh, I was right. It is him! And holy shit is he obsessed with you. Look at how cute this text is, Taylor!” Brianna tosses it to Taylor, and she catches it with ease as she scrolls through your numerous texts with Joel. 

   Taylor practically loses it as she chokes on a sip of wine. “He called you beautiful! He can’t wait to see you again? And Christ, you guys have been texting a lot. Fuck me!” 

   You lean forward and grab the phone from her prying fingers and set it down underneath your fuzzy blanket. “Okay, guys. You had your fun. Happy?” you ask annoyed, rolling your eyes as you try to hide the flush of crimson that’s bright on your cheeks. 

   “Umm yeah, babe! He is totally into you!” Brianna squeaks as she tosses a piece of buttered popcorn your way. You dodge it and shake your head at her while she sets down her fizzy drink on the edge of the polished coffee table. 

   “You think so?” you giggle, biting your lower lip. 

   “I know so! Ugh, you’re so lucky. Love this for you, though,” Brianna smiles, tipping the wine glass back to her pink lips.

   You sigh and shake your head as you listen to your two friends scream back and forth excitedly at each other. You just sit back and take another sip of wine and stare at Joel’s sweet message. Saturday can’t come soon enough.

   Saturday comes faster than a blink as you’re standing in front of the flashing sign of Club Inferno. You shift your weight in your sparkly heels and adjust the short pink dress that barely covers half your thighs. You don’t mind dressing up if it means Joel Miller can’t take his eyes off you for one second. That’s what you want. You want his attention, and you have it. You have all of it.

   When you walk through the dark doors, you’re shrouded in a mist of smoke. The stench of messy lipstick and alcohol surrounds you, and the spinning disco ball shimmers over your sparkly eyeshadow. It’s crowded tonight, bodies lined all on the dance floor, music coursing through your ears. It pumps the adrenaline that fills your shaky body because you know why you’re here. You’re here for Joel. 

   You spin in a circle, clicking your heels on the shiny floor as you look from the crowded bar to the sea of dancers. Joel, where is Joel? Maybe he’s…

   You hear a man clearing his throat from behind you and then a long Southern drawl fills your ears. “Lookin’ for Joel, sweetheart?”

   You abruptly turn, whipping your hair behind your shoulders as you eye the man who asked you about Joel. You blink once, twice as you take him in, a little surprised at how similar he seems to Joel. He’s tall, long slicked back almost black hair, the same chocolate eyes as Joel’s, even a similar smirk takes the stage.

   You shift your weight to your left, notice the expensive leather boots he’s wearing, a silky black button-up shirt tucked into pressed dress pants, and a handsome face to go with the outfit. He definitely reminds you a lot of Joel, and his accent, the same Southern accent as Joel’s. Was this his brother?

   “Huh, Joel?” you ask stunned, blinking up at the tall figure that now stands in front of you, hovering like he’s pressing for answers.

   “Yeah,” he chuckles, nodding to the hallway. “Saw you with Joel the past couple of weekends. Figured you were lookin’ for him tonight as well.”

   “How did you…”

   He interrupts, holding his hand out for you to take. “Apologies, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Tommy. Tommy Miller, Joel’s younger brother, the other owner of this club.”

   You take his strong hand in yours and let him shake, giving him a curt smile and a nod. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy. Nice to put a face to the name.” You tell him your name, and he smiles at you.

   He drops your hand and slides it in the pocket of his pants, giving you a quick once over to assess your outfit, an almost invisible smirk appearing over his dark mustache. “My brother treatin’ you good, I reckon? Takin’ care of ya?”

   Before you can respond back with flushed cheeks, a big hand comes down on Tommy’s shoulder and out steps Joel with a wide grin on his face, a deep chuckle dropping off his tongue as he looks you dead in the eye. 

   “Yeah, Tommy. Takin’ real good care of her, don’t you worry.” The response makes you blush and tingle all along your spine, creating a girlish giggle in your chest that you hold in once you meet the chocolate eyes of Joel Miller, the prettiest brown eyes you have ever seen in your life.

   “Don’t I know it, Joel,” Tommy says with a big grin, hitting his brother playfully in the chest before he steps back with the glow of his cell phone lighting up his palm. “Well, guess I’ll let you get to it. Take care, sweetheart.” He whispers something in Joel’s ear, something along the lines of “Beautiful girl. Lucky you, brother.”

   Joel claps his hand on the back of his shoulder and shakes his head. “Down, Tommy. Why don’t you go find one for yourself,” he chuckles, stepping out to hook his arm in yours. “Guess you’ve met my brother now.”

   “Yeah,” you smile, looking back to see Tommy give you a playful wink and then head towards the bar as he delves into talking with customers lined against the glossy black front doors. “Seems nice.”

   “Mmm. Nice. Sure, but he’s a flirt and a pain in my ass,” he chuckles, leading you through a loud group of females drinking cocktails and gossiping to each other. 

   He stops a second to turn towards you, eyes flicking up and down your body, a little shimmer of excitement reaching his honey eyes. And then he smiles. “You look real pretty tonight, sweetheart.”

   You blush, clear your throat and turn to look up at him. “Thank you,” you stammer. “And you. Well, you’re always handsome,” you blush again, biting your tongue when he smirks your way. 

   He does look handsome tonight. With his clean white button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, always hugging his bulging biceps, and his dark jeans that cling to tight muscles. And his slicked back curls, and his salt-and-pepper scruff, and his gorgeous chocolate eyes and fuck. You like it all, you like everything about him. And deep down that scares you, like sharp teeth could wrap around your ankles and drag you down under the dark waves. Like this could end badly. So badly.

   He yanks you out of your murky thoughts and leads you under more sparkling lights, pink signs flashing every which way, more than the crimson reds you first saw here. 

   You glance at the sea of dancers, bodies swaying and circling every which way, the disco ball throwing glittering lights over pressed suits and skimpy dresses. The song is upbeat, loud, humming across the ray of bodies lined on the dance floor. And it pulls you in, like you want to join in the madness.

   “Do you ever dance?” The question leaves your mouth before you can even think of what you just asked. Of course he doesn’t. He’s the club owner, why would he do that?

   “Sometimes,” he replies, chocolate eyes flashing towards the sea of people dancing with each other. 

   He looks down at you, raises a brow, and a question slides over his flecks of chocolate desire. “Why do you ask?” He’s leaving the question open, like he wants you to be the brave one and ask. He’s trying to get you out of your closed up shell, wants you to take initiative for once. And maybe you should. Maybe you should just give in.

   His eyes bore into yours, eyebrow raising higher on his forehead, sharp lines cutting across tanned skin. “Umm no reason. I was just wondering what kind of dancer you were,” you say nervously, your free hand clinging to the fabric of your pink dress, glossy lips puckering with a fit of nerves. He wouldn’t, would he? 

   He chuckles, a sly smirk spreading across his mouth as he takes your hand and nods his head to the dance floor. “Guess we gotta go find out then, hmm?”

   He pulls you through the crowded dance floor, past sweaty bodies, the flashing lights blinding your senses as he pulls you into his broad chest in a small corner, his back hitting the glittery dark walls while he pulls you flush to his chest, his hands sliding slowly down to your hips.

   You gulp, completely breathless as he chuckles and starts to sway his hips to the rhythm, eyes locked tight on yours. Your fingers clutch around his cotton dress shirt, the air feeling thicker with every breath you take, a burning sensation starting between your thighs with every movement he makes.

   He slides one hand dangerously close to your ass, the other entwining with your fingers, your hips magically doing exactly what he tells you to, like he’s using mind powers on your body. And you’re in a trance, a magnetic trance, all forces of gravity pulling you towards him like this is where you belong, beneath his body.

   “So, how am I doin’, darlin’? My dancing up to par?” he smiles, teasing you in the best way.

   “I’d say you’re a better dancer than I took you for,” you laugh, feeling the heat collide between your fingers with each touch he leaves on your skin.

   “Haven’t even shown you the best part yet,” he smirks.

   He spins you around quickly, pulling your back flush against his beating chest, hands skating across your body as he takes it even further, moving your hair to the side and slowly gliding his lips against your collarbone, enough to where you can smell, almost taste that addictive whiskey smell that trademarks Joel. 

   You get lost in the way his hips grind into yours, thick fingers dancing over the fabric of your dress, his breath blowing down your neck, causing stars to form in the flecks of your eyes.

   He leans down and glides his plush lips across the shell of your ear, one large hand sliding up your thigh, thick fingers teasing your dress line, slowly inching it up until he teases the inside of your thigh, making slick run like a river against your lace.

   “You know, you look mighty pretty in that little pink dress, sweetheart, but I think you’d look even better out of it,” he whispers, making you jolt from the filthy words that come out of his mouth.

   “You think so?” you pant while he pulls you even closer, enough to feel the growing bulge in his pants as he grinds against you.

   “Mmm, I do. I do.” He sinks his mouth down on your neck, stifling a moan from your throat as he nips and sucks the sensitive area, right where you have that sweet spot.

   His hand brushes higher, pushing your dress dangerously high as his magnetizing lips set your skin ablaze. He knows what he’s doing, getting you all worked up so you’ll be more than ready for him. And you’re there, you’re already so fucking wet. He might as well just take you here in front of everyone. You think you’d let him, don’t even care who watches. You’re just so turned on that you can’t even register what song is buzzing against your eardrums, all you hear, all you feel is his hot breath and calloused fingers on your skin. And his lips melting like honey on your skin. It feels fucking incredible.

   “Know you must be so wet for me, sweetheart. The way your shallow breaths and body’s reactin’ to me. Oh, you’re right there, ain’t ya? So fuckin’ wet,” he growls, slipping his thumb against your soaked panties until another moan comes collapsing from your glossy lips.

   “Mmmm. Take me to the back, Joel. Need to… need to…” You lose your train of thought as his fingers drop from your thigh, snatching your wrist up and dragging you back to the room where he’ll have his way with you.

   “Don’t have to ask me twice, angel. Gonna take real good care of ya, pretty girl,” he purrs in your ear while his hand clasps around your wrist, pulling you through the sea of crowded bodies on the dance floor.

   You let the music thrum through your eardrums, let him drag you down the dark hallway, let your body buzz with the endless possibilities of you and him. All you see is him in the mirage of flashing and sparkling lights as he leads you down down down until he’s pulling you into the room that’ll be your dark awakening.

   The first thing you see when you enter the dim room is the little coffee table packed with two cold water bottles, a glass of whiskey on the rocks, a mixed fruity drink just for you, and a cloth towel just sitting in waiting for the two of you. 

   “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” you ask as he hands you your drink. You take a sip from the citrusy goodness and let the cherry, coconut flavor slide down the back of your throat blissfully. 

   He takes a gulp of his whiskey on ice and nods his head to you as he wets his bottom tongue. “Figured we’d skip the crowded bar, have a little alone time.” The way he says alone makes nerves run down your spine because you know what that’ll lead to. 

   “Your drink okay?” he asks, cocking his head to the right, honey eyes wading into yours.

   “It’s perfect. Thanks,” you mutter, trying not to get lost in the shimmer of his captivating smile.

   You take a few more sips and then set it down, letting your heels click across the polished floor, right to the edge of the large pool table. You let your fingertips run along the wooden sides, gently skate your hand across the red felt, let your eyes roam over every square inch of the table, wondering if Joel’s a good player.

   “You play pool?” he asks, his voice deep floating across the room behind you.

   “Not too much. You?”

   “Sometimes. I play with the boys on Thursdays.”

   “Sounds fun,” you muse, dragging your finger up and down the red velvet, analyzing the colorful pool balls in the middle of the table.

   “It can be.” His voice materializes next to you as he sets his whiskey glass down on the pool table. “You think you’re any good?” He leans against the pool table, eyes directly on you.

   You shrug. “I’m sure not as good as you,” you laugh, heels clicking against the floor as you turn towards him.

   “What makes you say that?” His head cocks to the side, eyes lingering over your soft dress.

   “Well, for one, this is your club, your pool table. And you’re good at everything, aren’t you?”

   “And what makes you think you aren’t, hmm?” He steps closer, a playful smirk on his lips as his silvery scruff reflects under the dim lights. Suddenly, you feel a little warmer than when he was across the room just seconds ago.

   “I don’t know. I’m not… I just…”

   “You’re not what?” he asks.

   “As experienced…” you say timidly, eyes flicking down towards the red trimming on the table.

   He cups your chin with his palm and lifts your eyes up to his, deep brown eyes staring into yours like crystal clear pools. Pools you want to jump in. “Then let me show you.”

   He slowly trails behind you, grabbing your hips and lining you up perpendicular to the table, your heart beating strongly inside your throat. “First, you gotta be in position. Eyes right on the target, exactly where you want the cue stick to move to.”

   He backs you against his hips, pushing you flush against the edge of the pool table while you stifle a groan at the sensation of him behind your body. 

   “Then, you gotta take a deep breath, imagine you’re the cue stick, feel exactly where you want to hit.” His lips line with the shell of your ear, enough to where he’s teasing your skin, one hand slowly dragging up your dress, one leg spreading yours wider as you brace your hands on the table. 

   “Then what?” you ask, almost panting.

   “Then,” he glides his calloused fingers up your inner thigh, right in the crease where his thumb drags along the edge of your lace. “You gotta brace your shoulders, open your legs jus’ enough so you can snap the ball right where you want it to go.”

   He spreads your legs even wider by putting his leg between yours and teases your wet slit with his thumb, his teeth dragging down your neck as he coos against the shell of your ear. “Jus’ as I suspected. Fuckin’ wet,” he chuckles, moving your panties to the side as he starts teasing up and down your folds. 

   “Mmmm, been wet since the dance floor because aaaah,” you moan as he starts slowly circling your puffy clit, making a wave of slick spill between your thighs.

   “Yeah, s’that right, angel?” he chuckles as he starts to unzip your dress, slowly working it off your body till it’s a pile around your ankles, and the only thing left on is your panties that are pushed to the side forcefully. 

   He tugs the lace free, stripping you bare and leaving you in a wave of arousal as he pushes you harder into the side of the pool table, your mind spinning in a blur as he starts circling your aching clit.

   “Joel,” you breathe, hot gasps leaving your lips as two thick fingers curl up inside your dripping hole. You tip your head back into his broad chest and feel the way he lights a fire in your core with his experienced fingers.

   “Yeah? You like that, don’t ya? Think you’re ready for more,” he chuckles, sliding his hand from your hip and then undoing the zipper of his jeans. 

   Your eyes grow wider when you hear the clank of his belt and feel the denim material being pushed to the ground, along with his boxers as you feel the hardening of his cock digging into the small of your back. You groan as he takes his tip and slides it along your wet folds, coating himself in your slick as you moan against the glorious feel of him.

   He spreads your legs wider, bending your hips slightly over the firm table as he slowly pushes the tip inside your waiting hole. You squeak, silently begging him to continue. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

   As if he can hear your screams inside your mind, he bends over and runs his tongue along the shell of your ear. “Now, for your next lesson, you’re gonna take all of me,” he growls, stifling a moan from you as he inches in a little more, his large head spreading you wide as you anticipate the full length of him inside you.

   “All of you?” you whisper, curling your fingers against the red carpet of the giant pool table, imagining how good it’ll feel for him to pound his thick cock deep inside you.

   “All of me,” he confirms with the snap of his teeth. 

   He gives you no time to think until he’s plunging deep inside you, hard. You gasp as he splits you in two, the stretch has you moaning his name, has more slick running down the bulging veins that surround his massive cock. And then he’s thrusting harder, deeper inside you, and you swear he’s kissing your cervix.

   “Oh, fuck me,” you moan against the table, the side of your face kissing the red felt while your fingers dig into the soft material.

   “Fuck you, huh? Ain’t that what I’m doin’, pretty girl? Or do you want it harder?” he growls, his thick fingers pulling you by the hips until he’s absolutely drilling you against the pool table.

   You can’t think straight, can’t even comprehend how you got here, all you can think about are those smoldering dark eyes and his tower of a cock that’s throwing bolts of intense pleasure inside your entire body. And it feels so fucking good. 

   “Harder,” you plead, almost to the point of tears from how much he’s splitting you in two right now, but you don’t want it to stop, you never want him to stop. 

   “Fuck. C’mere then,” he snaps as he pulls his cock free from you and spins you around to where you’re sitting on the edge of the pool table, your legs straddling his hips until he’s pulling you to the very edge and lining up with your dripping core again.

   “You want it harder? Then take it.” He smirks devilishly your way and then thrusts hard into you, so deep that you’re arching your back and calling out his name.

   “Good girl, angel. Say my name. Jus’ like that,” he demands, and then his mouth latches to one of your breasts, his tongue flat against your pebbling nipple as you scream with a wave of pleasure that rides through your core. He does the same to the other one, lapping against it until your hands are laced through his tousled curls, making a groan slip from his own lips at the feel of your soft fingers latched around his messy hair.

   “Yes, yes,” you moan as you feel his cock relentlessly driving up inside you, at an angle that kisses your spongy spot that makes you see entire galaxies, and his coarse hair ruts against your needy clit that screams his name with each stroke he gives you.

   You’re right on the edge of breaking, and he knows. He knows. “Attagirl, angel. Takin’ my cock so well.” You try to pant out a response, but none comes. You’re so gone in the stroke of his cock, in the sensational bliss that Joel is giving you that you can only croak out another tired moan.

   “Know you’re close, sweetheart. Let it out. Let me see you come on this cock,” he growls.

   He cups your chin and lifts your head to where your eyes are level with his. You gasp, seeing just how beautiful those flecks of onyx and dark shades of chocolate are that coat his eyes, making them almost sparkle around the room. 

   You suddenly feel vulnerable like you need to avert your gaze, but you can’t. You just… can’t. 

   The way he’s looking at you like a starving lion makes you squeeze around his cock. He wants to devour you on the spot, but there’s also something else entirely in his gaze that softens just the slightest. And it makes you desperate to run, hide in the shadows so he won’t bring out these growing feelings that you’re feeling right now. 

   Do not fall for him, he’s not yours to fall for. You don’t need another repeat of before, you don’t need him. But you’re afraid you do need him, and that scares the hell out of you.

   His eyes bore into yours so intensely that you swear you can see fireworks flashing off inside those gorgeous irises, numerous vibrant colors blinding you with shades of dark browns and flecks of gold that you swear you feel them colliding straight into your heart. 

   He smells of whiskey and forest cologne that have pine cones and chopped wood mixed into the very fabric of his being that you almost drown in the scent. It’s so overly consuming that it threatens to knock you off this table and onto the floor where you’d drag Joel down with you.

   His lips are so close to yours, his forehead nearly collides with yours as you feel the sweat from his tousled curls drip down onto your forehead. And he’s staring directly at your mouth.

   Oh, fuck. 

   You want to know what he tastes like, want to feel that beautiful mouth on yours, want to collide your tongue with the taste of his sweet cinnamon flavor, but you just can’t. Kissing is intimate, kissing means this is more. But you want it to be more, don’t you? And that thought alone drags you out of the intense trance you’re under.

   Just when he’s about to go for your lips, you quickly turn your head, and his mouth lands directly on your flushed neck. His eyebrows furrow a little like he’s confused, a little hurt even that you moved your face, and the guilt takes a hold and wraps tightly around your insides, but you push it aside as Joel instead starts kissing down the side of your neck.

   He tangles his thick fingers in your mess of locks, his hot breath breathing down your body as he starts to suck ravenously at your collarbone. His hips thrust hard up inside you, continually kissing that sweet spongy part that has your body begging for more. You’re so far gone that your head feels foggy and heavy as you start to combust.

   You feel the blinding orgasm wash over his relentless cock, hear your own ragged breaths and loud moans surround the shiny black walls of this massive back room, and what sends you over the edge again is Joel’s crooked smirk and deep, gravelly voice as he calls you a good girl while you squeeze around his large cock.

   You’re exhausted, body spent, but he’s not done with you yet. He hasn’t come, and you know he’s about to make you lose control again.

   “Christ, you feel jus’ like velvet comin’ around my cock, angel. Wanna feel you do it again. Wanna take you over the edge,” he pants out, and then he starts to climb your body.

   He pushes you back to where you’re sprawled against the middle of the pool table, your legs spread apart, the colorful pool table balls flying every which way as you topple over them, and then he crawls on top of you like he’s dominating your very being. You gasp when he folds your knees into your chest, your body being twisted like a pretzel.

   He takes his thumb and starts spreading your slick over your soft folds, and he moans at the sensation of your wetness beneath him. “So fuckin’ soft for me, your pussy is like pure satin beneath my touch. Jesus Christ,” he groans as he brings his thumb up to his mouth and sucks the arousal off his calloused skin. 

   Your eyes grow wide at the mere vision of him above you delving into your taste, watching him moan against you as precum drips onto your messy pussy. You moan at the sight of him, the tousled hair, the expansive muscles that make up the shape of him, the dark eyes that penetrate you into place, the silver threads that lace his beard. He’s so fucking beautiful that you could lay here and stare at him for hours. He’s just that electric, and you’re afraid you’re falling hard for him, and maybe you can’t stop yourself from slipping into the darkness, but he’d catch you. At least you’d like to think he would.

   “Joel,” you mutter, your voice almost a whisper, and you’re sure you look completely wrecked beneath him. 

   “What is it, angel?” he asks, almost softly as he brushes a strand of hair delicately behind your ear. 

   Intimate, that’s fucking intimate. But you’re not sure you have the strength to give a shit at the moment, you just need him to touch you again.

   “Touch me, please,” you beg, eyes teary as you look up at him, clinging to his broad shoulders.

   He chuckles and leans in, his warm breath blowing over your face. “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.”

   He quickly pins your arms above your head, his hands lacing around your wrists and then he’s plunging deep inside you like the hilt of a sword, his cock splitting you in two all over again as his dark eyes stare directly into yours.

   It’s like an entirely different world in here than out there in the overly loud crowd, but in here it’s just the two of you, ragged breaths and tumbling bodies that seem to magnetize to each other. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced in your life, the insane pleasure coursing down every single nerve ending in your body, and Joel just makes it burn that much hotter.

   He clenches his teeth the deeper he ruts into you. Your high-pitched moans collide with Joel’s, and the room is filled with a symphony of ecstasy. His hands go everywhere on your body, and you swear you’re about to ignite into flames in this very spot. You might just burn the entire club down.

   His forehead falls down on yours, his lips so close, practically screaming for you to let him fall into the kiss. You almost want to, almost break as the cinnamon smell lingers against your nose, and you just know he tastes absolutely delicious.

   “Joel, I’m not gonna - fuck - last much longer,” you grit through your teeth as he thrusts hard into that perfect spongy spot as his wiry hairs catch the edge of your puffy clit.

   “Then let go,” he growls, digging his fingernails into your captured wrists as he thrusts faster and deeper inside you. 

   You happily oblige for him, arching your back off the red felt as you slip into oblivion and let the white hot heat slowly drip down your entire spine. It feels like warm honey sliding down his cock as your mind turns to mush, your lips moaning his name as you release everything for him. 

   “Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, keeping his steady pace of sliding his cock in and out of your pussy that vibrates for him. You indulge in his praise, your body convulsing from the intense orgasm, and then you’re just waiting for him to release his own pleasure.

   His body hangs over yours like a sturdy tower, his flexed jaw clenching as he groans to himself, angling your hips higher as he dives inside you, deep strokes that blend into pure need that consumes you whole. 

   He doesn’t take much longer, uncontrollably thrusting deep inside you as his thick eyebrows knit together, his breathing erratic from the intense fucking. You almost swear the pool table is about to collapse from the two of you igniting like flames together.

   You thread your fingers through his dripping curls, and that’s exactly when he falls apart. He thrusts deep inside and throws his beautiful head back. You feel hot ropes of cum douse your insides, and you moan the way it feels like he’s dominating you and claiming you as his own.

   He stays inside you for a few seconds after, his hot breath slipping down against your drenched skin like an ocean tide about to take you to your knees. He pulls out from your core, his hips leaving yours, and it feels like loss as his tanned skin leaves yours.

   He collapses on his back next to you, trying to catch his breath as the two of you lay splayed on the pool table, indulging in the pleasure the last half hour has been spent between the both of you. 

   He looks over at you and smiles brightly, a low chuckle leaving his chest. “Jesus Christ, that was amazing,” he beams, his chocolate eyes absolutely sparkling as he gazes at you. It makes your heart clench.

   “Yeah, that was… incredible,” you pant, still breathless from the unbelievable sex Joel had given you. 

   You feel your heart skip a beat as you look at the beautiful man that sits next to you, relishing in all the dark desires Joel keeps giving you. And you’re so scared that you won’t be able to stop before you’re thrown over the edge. Afraid that he will be the death of you. But you let those thoughts flit away from you, only focusing on his next movements.

   He pulls himself up off the pool table, sliding his boxers and jeans back on, and then he does something that surprises you. He dips down and hugs you into his strong chest, cradling you against him as he carries you over to the leather couch. He lies back on the soft cushions and pulls you into his body, and then he starts softly stroking your hair, your back, giving you aftercare.

   You’ll never get used to this, never get tired of this. This man. He’s so dominate, yet he’s so fucking soft. How can he be both? How can he be so… perfect?

   As if he can read your mind, he interrupts your thoughts that tear through your mind wildly. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout there, angel?”

   His caramel eyes are so soft that you stutter as words tumble off your lips. “Just… ummm… just how amazing that was,” you breathe uncontrollably.

   He chuckles and smiles down at you. “There’s plenty more I can show you, angel. Much more I can give you.”

   Your throat closes up at that sentence. He wants to give you more? Suddenly, it feels like he’s offering more, but you don’t ask him. You just stare up at him with wide eyes. 

   He doesn’t say more on the subject, but you get the feeling this will come up at a later time. Right now you just want to focus on how warm his body is, how good it feels to be wrapped in his strong arms.

   You rest your head on his chest and sink lower into him, letting the crackle of the fire send your eyelids fluttering shut, only focusing on Joel’s quiet breaths and his big hands that cradle the back of your head. 

   You swallow away anymore self doubt for the night, only thinking of Joel Miller, the hottest club owner, the most dominant yet gentle man you’ve ever met. You’re afraid you’re falling hard for him. And that’s exactly what you’re doing, what you’ve been doing ever since you met him.

   Shit. You’re so fucked. 

[hannyoontify]

the best birthday gift - jeon wonwoo

member | best friend!wonwoo x reader ft. the rest of svt

genre | fluff, attempted humor, high school!au (but they’re not at school)

word count | 2.8k

synopsis | it turns out, wonwoo works best under pressure

warnings | cursing, reader wears a tank top, reader is short and gets made fun of for it (lightheartedly), sex jokes, friendly bantering

notes | set in southern california, LA/Hollywood, based on real life events from yours truly and kids don’t jaywalk not proofread

happy (late) wonwoo day!! to the sweetest boy ever, i hope you had a wonderful birthday <33

Whoever thought taking public transportation with fourteen people to downtown LA was a good idea deserved to “be buried alive 6 feet under with those bug-eyed Chihuahuas”, according to Seungkwan. 

In his defense, Seungcheol thought it would be better for the environment. It totally wasn’t because of the fact that he was the only one with a driving license and it absolutely wasn’t because he wasn’t confident enough in his driving skills to be responsible for the lives of thirteen other people. Where would he get a 14-seat car anyway? 

All fourteen of you trudged along the cracked sidewalks of downtown LA, broken up into smaller groups as Seungcheol led the way in the front with Jeonghan and Jihoon. You stayed in the back, with Mingyu and Wonwoo, who were intensely debating whether or not a person can suck their own dick. You occasionally pitched in with your two cents, but you mostly stayed quietly in the middle, enjoying the spectacle that was laid out in front of you.

You were so engrossed in Mingyu and Wonwoo’s conversation that you almost ran straight into a streetlight. You yelled in surprise and Wonwoo barked out a sharp laugh, almost in tears as you rubbed your nose with a pout. Mingyu cracked a smile as you threatened to demonstrate firsthand to your best friend what you learned from your second grade taekwondo class. 

“You don’t wanna mess with me, Jeon Wonwoo. I was a yellow belt in second grade.”

“Yeah, and I’m, like, a whole head taller than you. What about it?” Mingyu’s ears perked up at hearing those fighting words and reached for his leftover popcorn from earlier. It was safe to assume that Wonwoo chose death today.

“You know, with your height and broad shoulders, you would think there’s at least one bone with common sense in you but I guess not,” you countered.

“You do know that tall people have the same amount of bones as short people like you, right?” Wonwoo sneered. 

You did a double take. “Wait, really?”

“Oh my god, [Name], what’d you learn in human anatomy?” Joshua asked. He was standing next to Mingyu, his hand reaching into Mingyu’s bucket of soggy popcorn. “I thought you passed that class with an A.”

“Yeah, with my help,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath. “They slept in class everyday and I ended up having to tutor them for 16 hours the day before our final.”

You swung your arm around his shoulder and grinned. “I still owe you for that one, how can I ever repay you for your kindness?” You asked dramatically.

Wonwoo reached over and pinched the side of your ribs. “How about growing another couple inches?”

“Fuck off,” You pushed him away from you and stuck out your tongue. In retaliation, Wonwoo flipped you off. 

Mingyu and Joshua watched the two of you bickering in amusement. The older boy leaned over and whispered into Mingyu’s ear, “I give them two weeks before they either start dating or fucking, I don’t know which one yet.”

Mingyu snorted. “I give them three days.”

“It’s a deal then,” Joshua reached out and shook Mingyu’s hand with his non-buttery hand. Unfortunately for him, he had reached over and gripped the latter’s oily, buttery hand. “EW WHAT THE FUCK MINGYU.” 

“Why did we stop?” You heard Seungkwan ask. He was currently holding onto Soonyoung’s backpack strap like it was a leash, stopping him from running off into the wild streets of downtown LA. Next to him was Seokmin, who just looked happy to be wearing his newly acquired Minions bucket hat. 

After walking for what seemed like forever, Seungcheol had finally signaled the entire group to stop walking by an intersection. Mingyu glanced towards the front, where Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Jihoon seemed to be in a heated discussion about something. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you could tell they were getting stressed by Jihoon’s eyebrows that furrowed into each other with every passing second, Jeonghan’s more exasperated hand movements, and Seungcheol’s lips that began jutting into a pout as he got more and more worked up. 

You let out a tired sigh. Your feet were aching and sore, your shoulders were sunburnt and itchy, and you probably smelled like a mix of sweat and weed right now. It wasn’t you that was smoking weed, but the esteemed gentleman sitting next to you on the metro-rail earlier was and you’re pretty sure the smell was permanently woven into the fabric of your tank top. You shifted back and forth between your feet, trying to alleviate any weight and pressure off your feet for at least a second and Wonwoo seemed to notice this because he silently guided you to a nearby bench,

You spared him a quick glance. “Thanks, Woo. You should also sit.” 

“Short people tend to have a shorter life span. Compared to you, I have plenty of more time to sit down,” Wonwoo shook his head with faux sympathy, almost enough to convince you that he was being serious but you knew him better than that.

Despite being absolutely exhausted, you assumed you had enough strength left in you to give Wonwoo’s shin a good, hard kick. 

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?” Wonwoo complained and you just grinned.

“I hope you shrink.”

Wonwoo stuck his tongue out at you childishly and you just rolled your eyes with a giggle, momentarily forgetting about the hot, blaring sun and the impending sunburn on your shoulders. He glanced down at you with the ghost of a smile tugging on the corners of his lips and you felt your stomach erupt into butterflies. Your not-so-little crush on Wonwoo was old news, but no matter how much time you spent with him, his smile always managed to turn you into a messy pile of goo and butterflies. 

Waiting for further instructions, Wonwoo leaned on you, his arms resting on top of your head as he scrolled through his phone. You stared down at the ground, trying to ignore the warmth of Wonwoo’s body next to yours. If it was anyone else, you would’ve pushed them off already, complaining about how hot it was, but this was Wonwoo. 

You tried to use the breathing techniques Minghao taught you a while ago, but it didn’t help calm your fastly beating heart. You wiped your sweaty palms on the fabric of your pants and licked your chapped lips. You almost forgot how much you hated summer in southern California.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you thought back to the long day and how chaotic everything was from the start. All fourteen of you agreed to go to Universal Studios Hollywood for Wonwoo’s 17th birthday, and the morning was alright. You all made it to the theme park safely via public transportation and after a long, fun day, the group decided to head back home to catch the last train.

You guys missed the last train.

In Jun’s defense, he didn’t mean to get lost. He was busy trying to apply another layer of sunscreen and when he looked up, everyone else was gone. He wandered around the city for a while before he caught sight of Soonyoung’s bright tiger backpack (no one knows why none of them used their phones to contact each other). By the time all fourteen of you were reunited, the last train had already left, leaving you guys to take the cheaper, but much more sketchy metro-rail. 

After missing the original stop on the metro-rail, you guys had to ride back for another 20 minutes, then navigate the streets of downtown LA in the late afternoon heat to find a specific bus stop, leading to your current situation.

“Okay, everyone! Our bus is supposed to be here any second,” Seungcheol called out. Immediately, everyone’s focus seemed to snap to the three boys who were standing side by side, arms crossed and firm looks on their faces. “The bus station is diagonally across the intersection so we need to-”

Jeonghan, looking somewhere else, began to urgently tap on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Cheol, that’s 460. That’s our bus.”

Seungcheol felt his blood run cold. Across the street, he saw a bright orange bus making its way down the street, pulling up to the bus station diagonally across from where he and the rest of his friends were currently standing. 

Everyone seemed to be under a trance as they stared at the run-down bus pull up to the station. Soonyoung was the first one to shake off the trance, breaking free from his beloved tiger backpack and leaving it in Seungkwan’s limp grip. He bolted across the street, ignoring all the different car honks and curses that were thrown at him. He had somehow made it not only across the street, but diagonally across the intersection, ending up on the same sidewalk as the bus station.

Soonyoung looked behind, expecting everyone else to be following him, only to see the rest of his friends staring at him dumbfoundedly.

“KWON SOONYOUNG WHAT THE FUCK?!” Seungcheol yelled. 

“I’M SORRY HYUNG I DON’T KNOW-”

Seungcheol waved at him urgently, doing everything in his power to resist the urge to run through the LA traffic to simply throttle the younger boy. “NO, DON’T FUCKING APOLOGIZE JUST STOP THE BUS.”

Soonyoung stared at Seungcheol with a confused look on his face. “WHAT?”

Finally breaking out of your own trance, you stood up and began pointing to the bus. “STOP THE FUCKING BUS. TELL THEM TO WAIT.”

Chan noticed that the crosswalk light turned green and began running. “COME ON WE NEED TO MOVE.”

My dear reader, have you ever seen a stampede of any kind? Whether it be the stampede of wildebeests that trampled Mufasa to death in the Lion King, the rush of high school students to the canteen during lunch, or thirteen teenagers running down the crooked streets of LA, I’m sure you can imagine the picture. Sweaty and red faces, backpack straps flying off shoulders, breathless laughs, unintelligible yells, and hands tightly gripping and tugging at each other.

More specifically, Wonwoo’s hand gripping yours. 

In the spur of the moment, the only thought in Wonwoo’s head was making sure you were safe. So when the rest of your friends broke into a sprint, his first instinct was to grab your hand and pull you along. 

Here you are now, your hand still in Wonwoo’s as you guys caught your breath while waiting for the second light to change. Soonyoung stood on the other side of the crosswalk as the living epitome of the standing emoji, waiting for someone to say something.

Seungkwan angrily shook his fist that still held his friend’s (tacky) tiger backpack. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GO STOP THE BUS!”

Soonyoung helplessly pointed towards the bus that had already left the station and was now waiting at a red light. “IT LEFT! IT’S TOO LATE!”

“GO! GO ASK THEM TO STOP. STALL THE DRIVER, JUST DO ANYTHING,” You screamed desperately. All around you, your friends were also yelling at Soonyoung, telling him to stop the bus and ask the driver to wait. 

Soonyoung finally gave in and ran back towards the bus that was still waiting at the red light. With every passing second, everyone inched closer to the edge of the curb, impatiently waiting for the light to change. And after what seemed like forever (it had been three minutes), the light finally changed and you made a run for it. Pushing past Jihoon and Vernon, you sprinted down the sidewalk with incoherent yells. You passed by other pedestrians who all looked at you and your friends questionably, and for good reason too. It wasn’t everyday you saw a group of teenagers running in downtown LA in the middle of July. 

There was maybe another hundred feet left in front of you and you’ve never felt more exhilarated before in your life. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as your feet made heavy contact with the gum clad concrete. You felt like you were in a teen movie. You could almost imagine the BGM as you and your friends dramatically run together in slow motion, your hair flowing in the air and you find yourself smiling. Wonwoo caught up to you, running by your side as the two of you silently sprinted down the street with bated breaths. 

Wonwoo glanced over at you and felt a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest. This feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but it amazed him how easily he was swept away by your charm every time he was in your presence. Your laugh always pulled at his heartstrings and your smile seemed to brighten up every room you entered. Wonwoo was drawn to you like a magnet and there was nothing he could do about it.

As the two of you got closer to the bus, Wonwoo suddenly had a thought. He reached for your hand and pulled you closer to him. 

“[Name],” Wonwoo started breathlessly. The bus was now less than fifty feet away and Soonyoung had successfully managed to convince the bus driver to wait for you and your friends. It was now or never. “You said you would get me anything for my birthday, right?”

You let out a strangled grunt, trying your hardest to not sound like you were fighting for your life after running for only five minutes because that was just simply embarrassing. Up ahead, Soonyoung had already made his way into the bus and found himself a comfortable seat in the back with a content smile. You slowed down as you approached the bus and breathlessly set down a foot on the front step of the vehicle.

Behind you, Wonwoo gently rested his hands on your hips and whispered into your ear, “How about a date?”

You felt your heart drop past your ass, your feet, and into the deepest, darkest pits of hell. Skinship was normal between your friend group, but this was different. And also, what the fuck did he just say? Were you slowly losing your hearing? Your mom was right, spending too much with Seokmin and Soonyoung did damage your ears-

Wonwoo let out a soft laugh behind you and almost as if he read your mind, “No, you’re not hearing things [Name]. This is me asking you out.”

You desperately needed someone to pinch you. 

Climbing onto the bus with a perplexed look on your face, you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to the bus driver who seemed a little less than happy to have a bunch of hooligans on his bus. Wonwoo’s big hands never left your waist as he guided you to an empty seat towards the back of the bus. You simply followed his lead as you tried to comprehend what your best friend just said. This was all probably a prank, right? You sank down in your chair and looked at Wonwoo, who was trying to get himself situated next to you. Was he being serious?

“Yes, you idiot. I’m being serious. I’m so surprised you haven’t caught onto my crush on you yet, with how obvious I was being,” Wonwoo had whispered the last part under his breath but you still heard it. His hand reached for yours that was resting on your lap. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way but-”

“I do,” you said abruptly, interrupting him. After realizing what you just said, you wanted to slap a hand over your mouth, dig a hole underground, crawl into it, and never come out of it ever again. “I mean- I- What I mean is…”

Wonwoo looked at you expectantly, his brown eyes gleaming with hope. He nodded at you to continue and you felt like your tongue had suddenly turned into cotton. Everything in your mouth was dry and heavy and you had to lick your lips before continuing.

“I do… feel the same way about you. I’ve liked you ever since that water balloon fight we had in eighth grade on your birthday. And-” You choked on your words again. “-I would love to go on a date with you.”

Wonwoo felt like he had just won the lottery. He simply couldn’t help the smile that tuuged up on his lips as he gave your hand a firm squeeze. “Okay.”

You returned his smile and hand squeeze. “Okay.”

Exhausted from the long day, Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder as he drew small patterns on your knee. “I think this might be the best birthday yet,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, since you agreed to date me.”

“You’re so corn-”

“HA! YOU OWE ME TEN BUCKS SHUA HYUNG.”

reblogs and feedback always appreciated ^-^

[hyuukais]

6. Buildup

warnings: none

word count: 1.0k

a/n: this isn’t the best but i was really struggling with it for some reason

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The heavy bass thump and low lighting of the arena feel reminiscent of a club. You can already tell you’re not far off from a migraine, as strobe lights flash dramatically around the padded ring. Next to you, Jooyeon and Seungmin are both munching away on their pretzels, the former having successfully tracked you and Bea down through the crowds. Jeongin arrived not long after him, flocked by a pack of men you didn’t recognize and Beomgyu. They came with cups and snacks in hand, apparently having stopped at the concessions as well. You all were quickly introduced as they sat down. Vaguely familiar with their names, it was nice to pair them with faces.

Yeonjun, with his bloody hair, was the first to greet you—oozing with charisma. Soobin seemed a bit quieter but polite nonetheless, especially as he commented on enjoying Jooyeon’s content with a bright smile. All you could really discern about Hueningkai was that Jeongin was right for calling him hot unprompted. He ended up in the seat next to you, silently snacking on some popcorn. It looked and smelled buttery and amazing. The thought of something salty makes your mouth water, yet the expanding pit in your stomach grows nauseous at the thought of eating.

It was like a looming blackhole of dread was eating you from the inside-out; all morning plagued by a familiar despair. The same one that had been following you for the past week. Beyond the notion of meeting new people spiking your anxiety, it was this overwhelming yet indiscernible feeling; most similar to depressing amounts of self-loathing and anger. Thoughts of that stupid rejection had been eating you up all night; over some guy you only went on a single date with. How dumb you felt about caring so much only made the feeling worsen, a vicious cycle so to speak. Bea had been completely on the nose when she called out your tendency to overthink, but you certainly wouldn’t tell her that. Hopefully, a fun night with friends would pull your mind out of its pit; or you could at least pretend one of the guys getting punched is someone you hate and find some enjoyment there.

“Would-would you like some?”

“Wha-”

Your eyes come back into focus on Heuningkai holding his popcorn container towards you. Even in the dim light, you can see the flaring red bathing his ear and neck. Perhaps you were looking at it too long, lost in thought, and made him uncomfortable.

“Oh, I…” Your stomach stirs at the sight, caught between craving and disgust. It smells so delicious though. “Sure, thank you.” You take a small handful. Popping some in your mouth, the kernels melt into your tongue, warm and buttery, absolute heaven on an empty stomach. You can’t stop the soft moan that slips out at the taste.

“That good, huh?” Kai chuckles beside you, you just happily nod in response, savoring each bite. A smile grows along with the red on his cheeks. “Um—I…I actually wanted to say, I’m a really big fan.”

“Oh?” Suddenly, the odd looks and comments his friends had given him after you two were introduced come back with much more clarity. They had all spoken about Kai sitting next to you with this odd lilt you can now tell was teasing.

His hands wring in his lap, but he face betrays nothing but a smile. “Yeah, so is Taehyunie, though I’m the one that introduced him to your content. We both think your stuff is really fun and cool! Your commentary is really funny and personable. You have this kind of atmosphere that…I just, I wish I could create with my content, I guess.”

“Oh, thank you!” Happiness bubbles in your chest, spreading its heat up your neck with a grin. You received words like these everyday from hundreds across the internet, yet something in the way he spoke made you feel so giddy over the praise. “I-I actually checked out a lot of your guys’ stuff after Jeongin mentioned we’d be coming today, and I really really liked it! Um–I watched the vod of one of your music streams—oh my god! You’re so talented, it’s crazy!”

“Oh–haha–thank you!” His head dipped as a shy laugh took over his body.

“And, I mean, I was a little hesitant about coming here. I guess I just didn’t know what to expect, but watching some stuff of Taehyun’s matches was like–wow.”

“Ah, yeah, Taehyun’s really talented. He always gets me to help him practice, and sometimes, just watching what he can do with one punch gets a little scary. He’s tried to teach me so many times but…I’m not built for those sports.”

“Oh god, Jeongin has this specific workout regime that he’s tried to get the rest of us to join so many times. It’s like he's really just plotting to kill us or something—it’s genuinely crazy. I’m like 90% sure it’s just because he developed it by working out with Changbin, but like—just thinking about it makes me want to vomit.”

His laugh is deep and airy as you go on about your friend’s. You both continue to swap stories back and forth, easily falling into casual conversation. Connecting with strangers was never an easy feat for you, but Hueningkai made it seem so much simpler. You could’ve probably talked for hours if not for the booming voice of the announcer ringing out to signal the start of the fight.

Cheers fill up the audience as the introductions proceed with both men standing at opposite corners of the ring. Everything is so loud and intense, you miss most of what is said about Taehyun. It’s easy to spot him against his opponent's bright green hair. His hands are clad in red gloves which match his shorts. From your seats so close, it's easy to see the steely look in his eye, brows shadowing his cheeks. Tension is thick in the air, beneath the harsh white now spotlighting the ring, everything burns up. Your heartbeat builds in your ears with unease, your breath held tight until the final signal goes and the match finally begins.

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WHAT YOU DESERVE

: ̗̀➛ Y/n is beloved by thousands on the internet, being a popular streamer. However, they’ve never been able to find nearly as much affection in their love life, despite searching for years. Just when they’re close to giving up on love all together, they suddenly find their romantic prospects on an upturn.

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[oneatlatime]

Bato of the Water Tribe

Bilingual bonus in the title. Also, completely not kidding, I tried to type Bato and my fingers automatically filled out Baton Rouge.

Sokka's battle reconstruction abilities reminding me of Count Ruegen's from the Princess Bride.

I'm not seeing any flags or other identification on that ship, so I guess Sokka knows it's from his dad's fleet because he memorised what all the ships in his dad's fleet looked like? That's both sweet and heartbreaking.

That giant mole dog thing just bit through metal. I'm guessing this thing has no pain receptors in its face.

I'm with Zuko on this one. That lady is too young for Iroh.

Be still my heart!!! Is this going to be a Sokka episode?

Pretty.

BABY SOKKA!!!!!! Also his dad has either a very poofy coat or a tiny head.

Right out the gate, in a scene that can't last more than 30 seconds, we see that the Water Tribe has infinitely superior parenting skills to the Fire Nation. Mr. Firelord could take a couple of lessons from this guy.

Whoever is voicing Bato (thank you avatar writers for putting his name in the title so I can spell it) is doing it absolutely perfectly. Beautiful buttery voice with just a little roughness around the upper and lower edges, and - I won't describe this right - but there's the sound of experience and familiarity in the voice. This is a guy who has lived lots of life, but also lived lots of life with Sokka and Katara. He's really selling their connection and their relationship (which I presume is like those parents' random friends you call uncle and aunt who aren't biologically related - fictive kin).

Either water tribe growth spurts come late or Bato is stupidly tall. Also loving the toga look. Don't quite know how it's staying up, but it does look comfy.

"After I was wounded, your father carried me to this abbey." HOLD UP WHERE'S THE FANFIC 50K SLOW BURN HURT/COMFORT FRIENDS TO LOVERS GIMMEEEEEE

Sorry Bato, but your boat is a ship. Not a boat. It's ship-sized.

Katara's like 'Sokka no that's mean!' Bato's like 'oh god there's two of them.' Lovely stealthy worldbuilding here. We've only seen Sokka and Katara's dad in that 30 second flashback, which told us he was loving. Now we know he's also funny. One line, and the writers double the depth.

Aang get off your high horse. We know you're a vegetarian, but Sokka and Katara left home for the first time only a few weeks ago and are probably getting homesick by now so stuff it! Tangent time: can you imagine how happy Sokka and Katara must be at having a familiar face in a place made familiar, who probably has news of their dad? There's no indication that any of the water tribe men have been home on leave since they all (apparently literally ALL) left home years ago. This is like Christmas for them.

Quick lesson to all you youngins out there: one day you may have children. And if you do, unless your children have the upmost loving respect for you, you will lose all ability to make them follow the rules as soon as they learn about the kind of stuff you got up to when you were their age. So don't post it online. Don't brag about it. Don't document it. They will find out. Children have noses like a bloodhound's for yesteryear's parental shenanigans. Also don't stick an octopus on your head under any circumstances.

Seriously though, I'm loving the insight into normal (ie not avatar or war related) water tribe life. Adds depth to the characters and the culture.

At the end of the episode with the Blue spirit, Aang talked about how he had friends all over the world before the war. During all this global visiting, was he never taught the laws of hospitality? Or basic politeness? Don't touch people's stuff. Learn to sit still for five minutes. It's not always about you.

I had completely forgotten about Katara's necklace. I didn't enjoy Imrpisoned much, so I guess I blanked that plot point.

"You can come with me, and see your father again" once again Bato's voice actor hitting it out of the park. I felt for a moment like it was two years since I'd seen my father and I was so excited for the chance to see him again.

A surprisingly mature stance from both Sokka and Katara here. Actually, despite Sokka's hinted-at father worship I'm not surprised that he made the mature choice. He's the one who's been keeping them on track the whole time. But I am a bit surprised that Katara was ok with missing out on a chance to see her father. She's been the one chasing after butterflies and that's one heck of a butterfly.

Aang DONT

Goddamn he did. Aang has no manners and no brain this episode. Come on.

Zuko and company taking us on a world tour. Popping into previous episodes is a cool idea.

Haybending. Another entry on the list of vaguely defined avatar powers.

Is this ice dodging thing going where I think it's going? Because if so, I am completely on board.

I finished the fortuneteller episode pretty peeved at the plot in general, but I gotta say I admire the balls on this lady. Only person in the village with a spine (and a brain). Followed up with a pretty banger line from Iroh. If Iroh is looking for some action he should check out this lady rather than the bounty hunter. They could make increasingly cryptic comments over a shared pot of tea and annoy Zuko so much he turns colours.

The most intense Bar Mitzvah I've ever seen. As a general rule, Bar Mitzvahs don't (usually) involve the possibility of a body count.

What's on Sokka's face?

Just going to slip in some sneaky meditation. Seems like a quiet enough spot.

You know, I think Katara's actually in the correct pose for holding the mainsail. Obviously Sokka has nautical knowledge, but I guess Katara sails too.

Can we talk for a moment about how sweet it is that Sokka finds a way to turn his test of manhood into a group project? To be clear, I think his greater motivation was the glory of greater achievement, but it's so very Sokka to find a way to include his sister.

That's pretty funny.

Wisdom is appropriate for Sokka. Bravery is appropriate for Katara, mostly because wisdom certainly isn't (*cough* Jet *cough*).

Interesting that it's Sokka who has a Katara-style blow up over the missing map. I definitely buy this. So soon after a very personal and important ritual that both connects them to their people and - by necessity - reminds them of who isn't there at the moment (dad), Sokka and Katara would both be sensitive to anything dad-related. Normally Katara is 100% ride or die for Aang, but pre-existing family is about the only exception I can think of that she would make for that policy.

"I'm an idiot Momo." YEP.

So the mole dog thing bashed the gate in, to turn in a circle and leave after ten seconds? Was that worth the headache caused by using your head as a battering ram? Especially when the very leapable wall was right there?

Side note, I would pay good money to be able to keep my hair as perfect and my makeup as unsmudged as this bounty hunter lady can, especially while doing extreme sports.

Lo and behold, he gets it. His dad told him he would get it someday. Kudos to Bato for the stealth teenage wrangling that prompted Sokka's epiphany. Bato didn't have to phrase his explanation of the wolf in a way that so paralleled the situation with Aang, but he chose to for a reason. I think Bato and Iroh should sit down for a drink and exchange stealth teenager wrangling tactics.

This is so perfect. Bato's not even their dad but he's Dadding so well! Letting them come to their own conclusions (with only a gentle nudge), respecting that decision and affirming that it's the right one by stating that their dad is 100% for sure super proud of what they're doing, then - the cherry on top - giving them a way to BOTH go with Aang AND see their dad if the opportunity presents. And then leaving a message at the rendezvous point as a last bit of long distance dadding.

Side note: I'm hoping Bato's bandages are cosmetic only, otherwise that backpack strap is going to be murder after half an hour.

Side side note: if Bato is walking to the rendezvous point, what happened to his ship?

How does the nun know about the necklace?

That poor gate gets no respect.

This mole dog thing sure is getting whipped a lot. I don't like that.

Pro tip: if your opponent has horns the size of a grown man and is looking for a headbutting contest, just walk away. Poor mole dog thing has no eyes, so he tragically can't see the horns and gets thoroughly curb stomped.

Would Aang really look this worried about fighting Zuko? He's come out on top one way or another in every fight they've had so far.

Some elements don't mix. Good to know.

Iroh. Forget about it. Bounty Hunter lady has extreme non-straight energy. Go for the fortuneteller instead.

Appa showing that he does not subscribe to Aang's pacifist philosophy. If the bounty hunter hadn't dodged she would have been a thin paste on Appa's paw.

I'm seeing lots of parallels in this fight. At one point Aang recycles Zuko's move, after they've switched so that Zuko is in Aang's original place. Neat.

I really know nothing about fight choreography, but this action is followable and entertaining, so I'm calling these fights good.

This episode's Beat Up Sokka quota is now fulfilled.

This well set piece is making me giggle.

You tell him Appa!

I get that they're the bad guys, but that poor mole dog thing can't catch a break. The trick with the perfume must have been distressing, if not also painful.

Skeezy. Knock it off.

I hope Zuko got a new clasp for that necklace while he had it.

Final Thoughts

Well, I finally got my long-desired Sokka episode. It contained less Sokka than I thought a Sokka episode would have. But I do feel like I have better insight into his character. The somewhat exaggerated attempts at manliness (followed up by a genuinely terrifying need to be the man of the tribe) of the first two episodes now have context. (I could include the Kyoshi Warriors episode in that statement too, but I felt Sokka wasn't in character that episode so I won't)

Sokka was told that he was too young (true) to join the men at war. Sokka being Sokka, what he heard was that he wasn't manly enough rather than wasn't old enough, hence the compensatory manliness at the start of the show. But, and this bit is probably more important now that Sokka is a certified man, Sokka also seems to define himself through serving others, particularly his sister. His dad tells him to protect his sister in the flashback; I think his grandmother said something similar to him when they left the south pole. Having your life's purpose 100% rooted outside of yourself is generally not a great idea. I pointed out a few episodes ago that Sokka has that classic teenage boy combination of soaring ego/crashing self-esteem; I now see why. Whatever his dad's and grandma's intentions in telling Sokka to look after his sister, Sokka has interpreted that request as becoming his sister's human shield, provider, brain/planner, and - if needed - sacrifice. Pretty hard to think too much of yourself when your life's work is to serve and die for another. This also explains why I keep seeing Katara outsourcing her thinking - she's basically been told to, and Sokka believes it's his duty.

I love Bato. I love his design, his voice, his purpose in the narrative. Excellent combination of worldbuilding, character work, and a light-hearted reminder that fun can still be had, even by grown ups who are actively fighting a war. My heart did a funny flip when I realised that I was being introduced to a responsible adult. That's how I know that I'm a proper grown-up: swooning at the notion of our main characters finally getting some caring adult supervision.

I love the family tidbits that Bato gives us. One throwaway line and we know that Sokka and his dad have the same sense of humour. Another half-referenced anecdote and we learn that Sokka's so-genius-it's-stupid manic tendencies, which are excellent at getting them all out of tight spots, are inherited or learned from a father who has similarly outlandish adventures pretty regularly. And it's such an effective story hook! Dangling small tidbits and noodle incidents leaves me wanting more.

Aang. Oh Aang. His problems this episode were self-inflicted, my least favourite type of narrative. I've gone hard in the past on Katara for her self-inflicted problems, so it's only fair I go hard on Aang too. If he had just behaved properly and not gone off in a sulk over being less than the centre of all attention for five whole minutes, he would have heard Sokka and Katara turn down the offer to see their father. But he just had to be an asshole for the first few minutes of the episode, and things snowballed from there.

That being said, all his actions from that point on do make perfect sense. 12 year old whose entire civilisation has been wiped out and who actually discovered his father figure's remains is NOT going to be ok with the idea of his remaining support system deserting him. Especially since the actions he took the last time his support system was threatened (running away) kind of inadvertently caused his support's system's extermination. Of course he's going to be irrational, to cling twice as hard to what he has left, by fair means or foul.

One thing I do like about Aang's otherwise dumbass behaviour is that he knows 100% that's it wrong to hide the map from the moment he does it. No initial self-justifications and gradual creeping doubts. He's doing wrong and he knows it. Shows he has a moral compass.

Zuko's plan of tracking the Avatar by Katara's necklace was solid, and he only lost because he's the villain in a kid's cartoon and is thus contractually obligated to lose. Iroh was not so great this episode.

I adored the Water tribe stuff. The intersecting fights at the end were very good. The Aang stuff was annoying, if understandable. And we'd already learned in previous episodes that Sokka and Katara were ride or die for Aang, which is the ultimate lesson here. It was interesting to learn that the breaking point for that statement is family, but other than that, no new info. I love this episode, but I would have loved it even more if it had more Sokka and Bato and less Aang.

I hope they went back and collected the map.

[youtubeyouniversitytherapy]

Therapy Exercise 1: Check In! || Ethan & Dean Tat

Ethan sat in the chair across from Dean Tat, very much used to the routine they went through by now.

He was used to this spot, used to this setting, used to this therapist.

Regardless, he still always felt on edge when having an appointment with any of the Deans. Truly he felt like he had nothing to hide with them, yet still they would pry. It was their job after all to do that.

So there he sat, listening to her type rapidly away on her computer. He wondered what she was writing on there, she hadn’t even started asking him anything yet! What was so important for her to be typing on there that came before the session first? Honestly, that was what had him mostly on edge above everything.

“… Sorry about that, we can get started on our session now.” The Dean smiled over her computer monitor at him. “How are you doing this week?”

He breathed out a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Glad to finally get this ball rolling.

“Good actually! I think I’ve been adjusting well with all the new students that have come in lately. Lot of new personalities.” he smiled, thinking of all of them now.

“That’s good to hear, I was about to ask how you feel about the new students..”

He was a little unsettled about how she knew what he wanted to talk about, but again, she was a professional. And they were both very well acquainted with each other by now.

“They all have a lot of… energy. And honestly, it’s refreshing to see so many new faces here. Keeps this place alive. Tara seems really fun, and me and Zach’s fur babies seem to get along so I think that’s telling of his personality. Oh and Jaiden is really cool! …But uh, I kind of fumbled an interaction so hard with her…”

“What happened?” Dean Tat pressed, already beginning to type away at her computer again.

“Well… she showed me these frozen eggs she was keeping that came from her birds. Pretty sure they were long past being able to hatch anymore but.. She trusted me to hold one of them and it slipped right out of my buttery fingers..” Even now he was still embarrassed about what happened, cringing visibly through his body language. He knew he majorly fucked up doing that, and wouldn’t blame her for never trusting him with anything ever again. With some as delicate as an egg, what else could his being destroy?

He could hear her typing fast even as he spoke, trailing off in his words just listening to her go at the keyboard again. Oh my god, she was definitely analyzing the hell out of him now. Probably writing something like “Baby Bird Killer” in his file, he’ll never recover from this.

“…I’m sorry the egg cracking stressed you out.. How did she react when you did this?” she asked after finishing up a sentence on her computer probably.

“….. Well, funny enough. She seemed…. Neutral… unbothered by the whole thing.”

“… And did this stress you out?”

“… Well kinda? I don’t know, I wanted to be relieved that she wasn’t mad. But… I really expected more out of her, I guess. Her not reacting kind of has me in tangles more over it… like what if she secretly is more mad than she’s fronting?”

“I think it’s important to take this situation at face value then, it’s not your responsibility to manage other’s emotions in these scenarios, especially if you’ve already apologized. It sounds like you’re remorseful over it and have made it clear, so it’s best if you take a step back and let her feel how she does about it. Whether apathetic or upset.” When Dean Tat spoke this time, her full attention was on him, eyes on his with sincerity.

That was one thing Ethan appreciated with the Dean. When she was making an important point, she would make sure her focus was solely on you. Whether that meant to make you feel comfortable or under pressure.

“You’re probably right…”

‘Let’s move on to old faces now, how have things been with your peers?”

“Oh, well… Mark and Rosanna seem to be doing good! They’ve been more busy lately, but who isn’t? Especially while running a house, even me and Arin have been struggling trying to play catch up with the Gammas… and me and Rose have gotten.. Closer..” oh goodness, he was talking about Rose now. Instant blush rose over his cheeks just at the thought of her. 

Dean Tat resisted smiling.

Ethan looked away from her desk, down at his hands now that he was holding together. “And I’m thankful that we have but.. It has me worried. Like.. something awful is about to happen.

There it was, something he’d never be able to admit to anyone else. Really, no one else would really understand why either. Except… well, Rose maybe.

“Something awful?” she asked.

“Yeah… it feels like whenever I start to really hit it off with someone, or get really close to them, they just…. Leave me.”

It stung to say, his skin prickling up but the words sprawled across his mind for awhile now. 

“Is the problem just… me?”

Dean Tat deeply frowned now, scooting closer into her desk to look at him.

“No.. no you are not.”

It was concerning to hear from a medical standpoint, and Ethan realized that now, eyes widening a little bit and starting to chuckle rather nervously.

“No yeah, I mean, just… I mean it just feels related somehow and I know that’s crazy but… I’m scared that it’s going to happen again… and I don’t know if I’m prepared for the fallout this time..”

Dean Tat stared at him empathetically, but it almost felt like pity on his end. Regardless, he gave her the benefit of the doubt. “Relationships… your relationships are important to you, that’s abundantly clear to me and to even yourself. You shouldn’t close yourself off just because of the possibilities. No one can live without love in their life, platonic or romantic.”

Ethan slowly nodded, taking her words in and letting them soak in his mind. 

“I won’t… close myself off, I mean.”

Dean Tat gave a nod starting to scoot back over to her computer and typing away again. Of course she would jot that down in her notes. It was such a vulnerable thing to share and he outright said it to her!

“Alright, that ends our session for the day I think… I hope that the program has been helping you feel better about being here..” she offered a smile over to him.

Ethan nodded, a smile rising to his lips as well. 

“It has… thank you..”

Dean Tat nodded, looking at her computer and beginning to work on it once again. 

As he left, he couldn’t help but watch her type what he assumed were more notes on himself, getting more anxious by the minute.

“..Make sure you close the door on your way out.”

[sigmabateman]

thank you so much @velvetcrowbar444 for tagging me to talk about 5 things im obsessed with at the moment!!

this got longer than i anticipated so im putting it under the cut, but for simplicity's sake i'll tag people up here: @nights-decay, @boycentriccplot, @flaming-tsunami, @sourgelatin no pressure though of course!

persona 5... ok i have to be honest ive been really reluctant to talk about this on here and its why ive been quiet the past at least week or so. no idea why. i guess cause its so different from the stuff i usually post about that i feel like, embarrassed? but i started playing persona 5 royal around may and really liked it but i didnt have the time to properly get into it until now and it has completely taken over my life entirely without me even realising. to be honest i could obsess over like a rock on the ground if i saw it at the right time in my life but hands down persona 5 is one the best if not the best game ive ever played in my life. the story is engaging, the characters are distinctive and realistic and i really really care about all of them, the gameplay is so much fun and combat is buttery fucking smooth like nothing ive ever played before, the music is top tier and what got me interested in the game in the first place, and the ART DIRECTION. it speaks for itself to be honest ESPECIALLY compared to the older games. i was shocked starting persona 4 because of how different it is to persona 5 like, persona 5 has SUCH a distinct visual identity as well as tone, themes, imagery etc it is all just so stunning and perfect and i want to live in it. but i think about it so often like literally 24/7 that i may as well be. i <3 persona 5 and i <3 YUSUKE KITAGAWA. he's definitely my favourite character and he came out of NOWHERE but hes actually everything in the world to me. one of the characters ever.

persona 4 is it a copout to say that? i did try and condense both games into one bullet point but 1. they're such a mainstay in my life right now i was struggling to think of more points and 2. it kind of lost its precision and didn't effectively convey just how personapilled i am right now. i originally wasn't gonna play 4, all i knew is that it was more difficult and less good so i thought i should stay away. but if you go anywhere persona-related on the internet (which i would warn against, the fandom is a fucking cesspit the likes of which i havent seen in a long time as an obscure-shit-enjoyer) you'll quickly run into adachi. and as a lover of men with high-pitched voices and sexypedia entries... i couldn't stay away. before even starting the game i had made a d6 and d20 with different adachis on each face so really it was just a matter of time. and you know what... it's not that bad. the graphics were a SHOCKING step down but i find the low(er) poly style really charming. the adachi model is too cute T_T whenever i see it in the game world i just wanna sit with it for ages. i wonder if i could get it like 3d printed so i could keep him on my desk with me at all times... its bad for me ! the combat is fucking clunky espeically compared to 5 and i kind of hate it but that just makes it more rewarding when i can finally stop LOL. some of the characters (especially the main few (yosuke, chie, yukiko)) took a bit to grow on me but its kind of sweet.. its like authentic.. our relationship is growing as i get to know them better... but dojima and nanako ive loved since i first set eyes on them. too cute. it makes me feel so fatherless. its like.. a lot more magnetic than i expected it to be. i love it even with all its flaws. i saw a meme about it being like twin peaks and thats kind of so real. and you know i love a murder mystery... so yeah tldr i like persona now. but its hard to talk about it on here because it is such a big fandom but not like an active one like spiderman or like good omens or whatever slightly more normal people are watching so its kind of intimidating. maybe ill get over myself, maybe ill go silent for 3 months until i get into something new. we'll see i guess LOL

my gender identity TUMBLR MOMENT I KNOW but i dont know.. ive had a lot of time to myself recently and its kind of brought things to the surface that i just didnt have time or space to think about before. turns out there was a LOT OF STUFF i was repressing without even knowing. like that tweet 'im probably nonbinary but i have a job so idrc about that rn'. i posted on instagram "gender around cis people: boy, gender around trans people: girlboy, gender by myself: computer program" and that kind of sums it up i think. can i coin like.. complicatedgender. where your answer to the question "whats your gender?" is "it's complicated..." cause thats me. its just COMPLICATED okay!!!! but my pronouns havent changed or anything so its chilllllll

going to bed at a reasonable time. i phrased that like a joke answer but its true. i downloaded pokemon sleep and now i go to bed at 11:30pm cause at 11 i get a notification saying my pokemon are sleepy and shit i gotta take care of my pokemon!! i dont even know if its doing me any good to be honest like i dont feel much better when i wake up but making myself get into bed and shut my eyes means more thinking time and to be honest my favourite activity is thinking. even if as silly as it sounds i never give myself time to do it. its playing a weirdly big role in my life rn so yeah id say im obsessed with it!!!

this asmr video. im secretly always posting about asmr so really i could just say that, but like, ASMR | The Mortician (No Talking – You're Dead) specifically is such a mainstay i can feel its influence seeping into my life like an infection. this video would actually show up in my recommended for YEARS but i never watched it. gave me a major ick for some reason. but then i got into this guys stuff and saw it again and thought id give it a go and now its like an extra limb. fuck my 3rd bullet point, this is my gender identity. i could not articulate in words what it is about the mortician that i love so much, but i really really do. i am certifiably obsessed. cant believe i made it through this whole thing without mentioning alex. but there you are. yay this was fun :D

[cedarxwing]

okok i’m so sorry for bothering you through here but like first of all YAY so happy to see someone also obsessed with hannigram in brazil lmao just love it so much and am glad other people like it too

when answering you i thought about feijoada too but was like nah it’s not Meaty enough but like i bet he would find some way to make feijoada way meatier jsjsksjskskksjsksk

but anyway i’m so sorry for asking but i kind of have to ask about you writing hannibal in brazil 👀 if it’s smth you don’t feel like showing or never posted i’m very sorry for asking and feel free to not answer this!!! but if you would like to share know i’d love it so so so much

anyway you got me too excited about this topic skjsksksks thank you thank you thank you !!!!!!!!

It's not a bother at all, are you kidding, I could chat about novel references forever! I see you're Thomas Harris's arch nemesis and I'm Thomas Harris's #1 simp, so I guess that makes us mortal enemies, but I'm glad hannigram in Brazil can unite us. ^^

This might be wrong, but I read that feijoada was made with pig feet, snout, ears, etc (I think to make the broth?) back in the 16th century, and I got obsessed with the idea of Hannibal using the human analogs for those.

I never posted what I wrote anywhere bc it's kinda cringe and unedited lol. The premise was post-fall, Will needs facial reconstructive surgery for his stab wound, like how Hannibal got his sixth finger removed in Rio de Janeiro after he escaped prison. Here are some Brazil-related snippets!

A rewrite of the Marcus Hotel scene from Silence of the Lambs (except Will is actually getting plastic surgery haha):

The doors of the elegant Hotel Marco in Rio de Janeiro slid open and hit Hannibal with a gust of air conditioning. He wore comfortable white linen and a Panama hat. His hair was an ungodly shade of bottle blond. A neat surgical bandage covered his nose and cheeks. Soft piano music drifted from the lounge. At the bar, Hannibal could see two people with bandages across their noses. A middle-aged couple crossed to the elevator, humming a Jobim tune. The woman wore a gauze patch over one eye. “Boa tarde, Sr. Wyman,” the concierge greeted him as he passed the reception desk. Hannibal nodded to him before joining the couple in the elevator. He set his bag of groceries down in the kitchen of the penthouse suite. The suite seemed luxurious to him after his long confinement. He enjoyed running his hands over the cotton bed comforter and the stainless steel fridge. After sorting the groceries, he indulged in a long shower. From the window, he could see across the street the premier clinic for craniofacial surgery in Brazil, where Will had recently undergone maxillary reconstruction and received a four molar dental bridge.  This was the one place in the world where Hannibal could walk around with a bandage on his face without exciting interest, and he’d taken advantage of that to make his first foray into the public since their flight to Rio. A short walk to the convenience store less than one block away. Voices laughing in Portuguese, and the buttery scent of street wagon empadas and brigadieros. Life pressing sweetly on him from all sides.

And later:

Will looked at the bacon fat heating on the stove. He spoke in hesitant Spanish, knowing Hannibal wouldn’t respond to anything else. “What do we have here?” After weeks of communicating using pen and paper, Will had made a reluctant return to speech, unfamiliar now to his damaged hard palate. Add to this the strain of learning a new language—rolled Rs were particularly painful for his stitched tongue—and he was perfectly happy to stare at Hannibal in silence for days on end. Each word Will spoke aloud, Hannibal knew, was a gift. “Farofa for feijoada, a hearty black bean stew of regional significance. I’ve made it before, but this will be my first time using authentic Brazilian sausage.” He’d been looking forward to it but was in danger of losing concentration with Will this close. He smelled of blood—from the butcher most likely—and forest underneath it. “You’ve been to Tijuca National Park again.” “Lots of tourists there,” Will said, as if in explanation.

(They're not staying in Brazil--that's why Will's learning Spanish instead of Portuguese)

Anyway, feel free to correct anything I got wrong! I've never been to Rio so I have literally no idea what I'm doing.

[umichenginabroad]

Madrid Week 5: I been in the kitchen, whippin, whippin (cheffin?)

Holaaaa a todxs otra vez! Niko back here with week 5 of the Madrid blog, sorry that I’m a day late :). This week’s blog will have less to do with Madrid/Spain/Europe/culture, and more to do with a little personal project of mine while abroad: learning how to cook (well).

I’ve always had cooking as a part of my life, and that’s thanks to my Mom, who always made the most delicious meals growing up from all sorts of cuisines. On a typical Sunday evening, my Mom would pick a recipe — either something new, or a family classic — and enlist me and my sister’s help in preparing it for the whole family. I learned a good amount this way: how to dice an onion, how to chop an onion into slivers, how to caramelize an onion… along with various other skills that don’t have anything to do with onions.

In high school, right before COVID hit, I decided to teach myself how to bake bread. It seemed like a kind of impossible task, of sorts — something that only professional bakers who woke up at 5am knew how do to, or grandmas who somehow always had the skill. I don’t remember how my first loaf turned out, but I’m guessing it was just good enough, because I found a new passion in baking from that point onward. I kept challenging myself to go for more complicated pastries, culminating in my proudest buttery achievement: a 3 day baking marathon that yielded some perfectly flaky homemade croissants.

In baking, I found joy in the precise imprecision of it all. 

Many people I know have told me that they see baking is a science; All of the ratios have to be perfect; There’s no room for error. While it’s true that if you add too much flour you’ll dry out your dough, or if you overload on the butter you’ll end up with a crispy puddle instead of a cookie (that also destroys your baking sheet) (speaking from firsthand experience), the more I practiced, the more I was able to bake using feeling and intuition instead of trusting a recipe. I could tell what dough felt like when it needed a little more kneading, or what it looked like when it had risen just enough. Through baking traditional Greek breads and desserts, I also found a new avenue for connection to my heritage. The gratification I received when I got a delicious final product — and one that I could share with family and friends — was all that I needed to continue having fun with the hobby.

Now, flash forward a few years, I’m a freshman in college. I’m in a dorm (Bursley T_T ), no kitchen access in sight, and eating exclusively in dining halls. Baking fell to the wayside, aside from the casual holiday cookie produced during breaks. Flash forward another year, I’ve got an apartment with a very functional kitchen — but now I’ve overloaded myself with classes and other extracurriculars, bought a dining plan, and treated mealtimes as activities to be completed as efficiently as possible so that they wouldn’t interfere with everything else I had to do in a day.

Needless to say, I wasn’t doing much baking, and the same was true with cooking — once a week I’d maybe make some dry chicken breast in a pan with some crudely chopped red bell peppers and call it a night. Last semester, fall of Junior year, at the peak of my business with school and extracurricular responsibility, I found myself in the kitchen even less.

I was satisfied with this rhythm. I enjoyed dining hall food for the most part (much to the surprise of most friends), and I really was saving time that I spent on other things. However, part of me looked at friends that were regularly home-cooking delicious, healthy meals for themselves (or for their entire co-op) and felt a pang of jealousy. Mealtime can be a sacred ritual for connection — both with yourself and with others — if you want it to be, and that was something I wanted to be able to foster.

The turning point in this cooking journey revolved around Monday night game night, the CFB championships, Michigan vs Washington. My cousin had invited me and my sister over to watch the game, with the promise that he would chef us some of his world famous confit chicken wings. My cousin is probably one of the best freehand chefs that I personally know. If you give this man some simple ingredients and a couple of spices, he’ll pull out some random cooking technique I thought only existed in high end French bistros and make some truly creative — and delicious — food, based solely on his experience and earned intuition. I think of him and flavors kind of like Remy from Ratatouille with the cheese and the strawberry, y’all know what I’m talking about.

This was the type of cooking that I had always sought after but never figured I was capable of without going to culinary school. Impressive, but something that only professional chefs who woke up at 5am knew how to do, or grandmas who just always had the skill…

Before leaving my cousin’s house (and after Michigan had won the natty 😎), I asked him how he learned to cook freehand so well. He told me that, although he had always been around cooking in his family, his skills truly blossomed when he was abroad in London for a year — when he was forced to cook for himself. He mastered simple dishes, without using recipes — pan seared chicken breast, roasted vegetables — which served as a launching pad to trying more and more complicated dishes, each time committing the cooking experience (and result) to memory and drawing upon it for the next plate.

So, flash forward to present day. Essentially, I said “Bet.”

I’ve got a bunch more time now that I’m abroad, and groceries here are significantly cheaper — meaning I can get more ingredients at a higher quality and set aside a few hours to truly explore. The first week or two, I was pretty much just doing chicken and red bell peppers, and maybe some rice. But since then, I’ve started exploring a little more — risotto, Bolognese, spatchcock chicken, basted steak — and the process has been incredibly enjoyable. I can feel some sense of intuition forming, and I find myself relying on recipes less and less with each meal cooked — having my baking experience as a backdrop gives me confidence that I'm on the right path.

dishes from my first week or two cooking freehand

Those that know me well know that I find a lot of pleasure in learning a new skill. To be honest, I do a lot of random stuff that doesn't really have much of a common thread, which is why I’m somewhat of a “Jack of All Trades, Master of None”. Cooking freehand is the newest addition to that list of random skills, but I think it’s one that’s here to stay. Not only is it fun and delicious, but incredibly utilitarian. 

In the words of my cousin: “It means you’ll never have to eat bad food... Not everyone wants your homemade candles or scarves, but everyone can f*ck up a home cooked meal.” 

Facts.

The biggest item on my food to-cook list is to make Avgolemono soup with homemade chicken broth, which is a Greek soup dish that holds a special place in my heart — one that my grandma made all the time. Stay tuned for the results in a future blog. Per usual, check out the image descriptions for a little inside scoop on the meals I've cooked so far.

In other news this week, I saw one of my favorite DJs Interplanetary Criminal, continued on with classes, and some friends from Arlington VA, my hometown, visited for the weekend from their other study-abroad-cities in Europe (including Emma, who's house I stayed at in Granada!).

See you all again next week!

Hasta ahora,

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

[davidmariottecomics]

Butter Sales

Hello! 

Today's update is kind of a journey, but it's all leading to a super important update, so just stick with me. No real better way to get into it than to get into it, so... let's! 

Butter Base

Okay, so you know my friend, Ricky, right? Ricky? He's like... yay tall? Face like a meerkat? Yeah, him. Rrrrricky. Rickeeee. That's my boy. 

If you somehow don't know my friend Ricky, here's what you need to know. He's always coming up with these crazy schemes. Like, one time, Ricky... put flowers in a pot. Not like he y'know, planted a plant and flowers grew out of some beautifully sculpted terracotta. Nah, my boy Ricky, he bought some flowers for his mom but forgot to give them to her, so they were just like wilting in his house, so he put them in his big pasta pot. It was wild, but maybe you had to be there. 

Oh, that's the other thing you need to know. He has this big pasta pot because his mom, the one he bought flowers for, she's really good at making pasta. So she bought him a big pot so he could be good at making pasta, but I've tasted both of their pastas and Ricky's mom's pasta is where it's at and Ricky's pasta isn't very good at all. I guess there's more to pasta than a big pot. 

Ricky's New Gig

Alright, so one time, Ricky went to the store and they had a lot of butter. Like, how he first told it, it sounded like the store only had butter. But I asked and he said they had other stuff too, so, don't imagine quite as much butter as I did. Anyway, so he's at the store and they've just got all this butter. Ricky said it was like 50 times as much butter as a store should have. Just shelves of the stuff. And Ricky, you know him, he sees something like that and he starts cooking up these wacky ideas. So Ricky bought some butter. 

Now my boy is a butter salesman. He just goes around selling butter. And it seems like he's making bank. I know because he showed me this fat wad of cash he was carrying. He said he had to carry it around because his bank's really lame and wouldn't trade him non-buttery bills for buttery ones. 

He told me a trade secret, that I'm going to pass on to you. The sweet spot is the third house. The first two, the butter's like nice and cool and firm in your pocket, but it means you gotta find a knife to cut a pat off so people can taste test. But some people treat you really weird when you come up to their door and say that you need to borrow their knife so that you can sell them butter. The third house though, the butter's started to soften up, so you can just sort of scoop some out and let them lick it off your finger. People really like that. But for houses four and more, that gets a little tricky because the butter starts picking up like lint or money or whatever else you have in your pocket. 

My New Gig 

Ricky offered to get me a job working as a butter salesman, like him, and I took it. That's my big announcement. I'm leaving comics to go sell butter. Sorry! 

Don't tell Ricky this, but I also think I figured out a way to make even more in butter sales. I'm going to keep my butter pocket, my lint pocket, and my cash pocket separate. Like, duh. 

So next time you see me, tell me where your house is so I can come sell you some butter. 

Much love, David Butter Salesman 

P.S. DON'T READ THIS UNTIL APRIL 2ND April Fool's!

What I enjoyed this week: Blank Check (Podcast), Honkai Impact (Video game), Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo (Anime), The Circle (Trash TV), When Harry Met Sally (Movie), Logan Lucky (Movie), my friend Chloe Brailsford gave me a sneak peek of something they've been working on and it's very good. Keep an eye out for more from her! I haven't played it yet, but I'm very excited for The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog. You may've seen that Min Ho Kim, one of our artists over at IDW, worked on the character art! It's clearly a labor of love by everyone involved and that's really cool. WonderCon was nice. Glad I got to see some folks I haven't seen in a while. I did catch con crud (and tested and came back negative for Covid, it's just a head cold), so if I missed you or we only had a pretty quick, limited interaction, maybe it's for the best! Speaking of both friends giving me comics and WonderCon, Matthew Palacios gave me an ashcan of his book Metal Skin and it was a lot of fun! I've also been playing a bunch of pranks over on my Twitter (2 whole pranks)! So, no, I still haven't seen ALF and I did not expect other people to send me pictures of my cat. Those were goofs. Lastly, yesterday was Transgender Day of Visibility. I posted a couple times about a fundraising effort that was going for Point of Pride and saw they ultimately ended up making twice their initial goal, $2 Million, to help out thousands of trans folks with gender-affirming care. There are also a ton of cool people who were sharing themselves yesterday in a time when that's a very scary thing to do. 

New Releases this week (3/29/2023): Nothing from me, sorry! 

New Releases next week (4/5/2023):  Sonic the Hedgehog #1 5th Anniversary Edition (Editor--A new version of the first IDW Sonic comic, with a bunch of bonus content including a new comic short!)

Final Order Cutoff - Let your shops know to order these books by Monday (4/3/2023):  Sonic the Hedgehog #60 (Editor) Godzilla Rivals: Biollante vs. Destoroyah (Editor)

Announcements:

At the moment, I don't have any new appearances until San Diego Comic-Con! But, that's subject to change! And I may have other announcements coming to this space soon, so keep an eye out! 

Oh, just because, uhh... I know we're all convinced Twitter's just going to collapse any day now. I've tried various other social medias and a lot of them don't really work for me. The best ways to keep up are obviously my website, my Tumblr, my newsletter, or my Instagram. I am still on a few other things, but don't really use them. If you're on Tumblr or Insta, please do follow me there so I can follow you back and make sure we're staying in touch! 

I will plug in my usual Becca corner, their website's up and should all be working. There was a bug with shipping, but that should be fixed! Maybe buy yourself or someone in your life something nice! And I believe they're still on for streaming tonight at 7 PST on Twitch, assuming voices are still holding up as we get over the last of this con crud! 

Pic of the Week: Major shoutout to KEM Cosplay! We met at WaifuExpo at the beginning of last month (you can see a picture of her in a previous blog as Dr. Eggman) and ran into each other again at WonderCon over the weekend where she was wearing her BIG THE CAT COSPLAY! 

[mood2you]

Books I guess

A pretty quiet week since the weekend was restful. Not that I will always be regaling you with personal stories.

I read a lot this week, finishing Bamboo Kingdom 3, Up The Organization, and Edge of Evil. I think the political intrege of the Erin Hunter books is pretty good, I wouldn't have started one of the non-cat stories if Bamboo Kingdom hadn't been new at the time. Edge of Evil got a little write up which it shared with Conversations With People Who Hate Me, for my challenge of reading a nonfiction for every fiction, which is going to end fast unless I get creative. The library only has 1 Australia book for The Rosie Effect, and it's in the travel section, not the history or politics or somesuch section. That's just an example, I guess I could look for books about beer next time. Don't ask me what I'm reading after Bamboo Kingdom, one of those Chinese politics books where if it happened here to us we'd say, yeah that happens everyday, but if it's China it's uniquely horrible. Wealth inequality and economic stress, book bannings, corrupt justice system? At least America does have different libel laws than China and the U.K. It's worse because (well, it's worse because I always have the armslength translation) it's a book from 2004, when I was 7, so I keep on comparing 2004 China to, like, 2010 America because that's all I got, that's as far back as I can muster any adult self-awareness. I guess next time I could look for, like, family based books, like, transracial or orphans or brothers. Up The Organization was probably stupid, it's definately sexist for example, but it's from the 1970's so give it some slack. I also started a difficult audiobook of Interview With The Vampire, and to help me focus I'm playing Pokemon Emerald. Well it's not difficult, in fact I love the rhythm of the cadence when you speed it up, but it's unlistenable at normal speed. Interview with the Vampire is really good, funny and addicting. And to think I unhauled my Fin De Ciele book, aw nuts.

I did draw a little, for ArtFight, and I haven't picked up crochet since last week because I'm disappoined I forgot my lesson about the magic circle. I've been thinking and doing a little writing!

I've been following the ArtFight meltdown closely without spending too much time on the Discord because sometimes it's really annoying in there, but of course there's lots of people who are so nice and friendly in DMs. Meanwhile the mods have such a reputation of never answering DMs! I hope ArtFight pulls through??

Been sleeping alright, in fact I went to bed at 11:30 and woke up at 7:30 yesterday, eating okay but not great (not enough veggies, etc.) If you've already seen this, then you have an idea of what I've been eating! I'm already running out of time this week to make persiki cookies and I think my cousin is tired of getting them when he visits.

That wine is good, but I don't remember what it is. It's sweet at room temp, and buttery out of the fridge. People ask me what wine I like but I have no clue, if it's not gonna be sweet it better be buttery, I guess, and it better not taste like champagne.

Oh, also, I finally watched Venom and I thought it was funny. It has the time blue-light that Twilight does and they climb a tree. Did anyone else think of this?

I'm kind of sad not to have Netflicks anymore because my cousin would like watching The Witcher with me. Is Cavil in that one? Sheesh!

[uncouth-the-fifth]

omg congrats on 100 followers! i love your writing. can i request #209 for damian wayne? thanks <3

209. "Come sit on my face, let me show you how much I missed you," with Damian Wayne.

A week ago, you were feeling a bit stressed and spent most of the day in bed, searching for the will to complete your work. One backrub led to another and soon you were naked underneath Damian, depleted of all anxiety and fucked brainless. Your faces were so close that you could feel his jaw clench going into each thrust. He’d hit you with a series of fluid, brutal ones, then rasped against your collarbone, “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

You’d came. Instantly. Embarrassed and impressed by him, you’d try to play off just how sexy it was. Damian usually kept his thoughts to himself during sex, and if he didn’t, they were clear-cut questions without any sense of dirtiness. Even a little filthy talking was new. Not that you minded - at all. Damian had just smirked at you as you got dressed, leaving the topic in his eyes and only there.

At least, that’s what you’d thought.

The next time Damian brought you to bed, it was evening and you were getting home from work. You didn’t see him until after a much needed shower. He was in his armchair in your room, half-reading and half playing chess with himself on the coffee table. This was the most serene part of your routine. You’d take a shower after work and change, while Damian enjoyed your presence and read as he waited for you. Few words needed to be said, but apparently Damian wasn’t as distracted by his tasks as he let on.

“Long day?” He asked, innocently.

You pulled open the top drawer of your shared dresser, and as soon as you stole a pair of his boxers and a shirt, you dropped your towel around your ankles to dress. “Ugh!” You scoffed. “Don’t even get me started. I swear, I’m our only employee who has any idea what I’m doing.”

When you had your pilfered clothes on, broad hands settled on your hips and brought you into his delicious bubble of body heat. Damian’s voice had an interesting lilt to it, like he’d uncovered something and was bursting at the seams to test it on you. His fingers teased up the edge of your shirt and licked at your exposed skin.

You expected him to say something mundane. Instead, Damian purred against the shell of your ear, “Come sit on my face. Allow me to show you how much I missed you, beloved. Would that improve your mood?”

Your gut exploded into flames, a rocket reentering orbit. The floor and the ceiling switched places. Both hands on your waist drew out, cupping your middle and squeezing you against Damian’s firm chest. You felt your mouth open, felt yourself stutter to reply, while Damian’s grin broadened over your shoulder. Hypothesis confirmed.

“Um,” you swallowed, and turned around to meet his eyes, “yes, please...?”

Damian chuckled, and you were brought in for a buttery kiss. Rubbing your hips, he drew you to the bed, cursing between deep lip-locks. “I’ve thought of nothing else all day,” he promised, “making you scream my name, fucking you with my tongue...”

Too warm-faced to speak, you just moaned into his kiss, shattered by the thought. Damian’s lips seared to yours in a brutal, possessive kiss that left all sense of balance in your body clinging to your feet. His words already had your cunt throbbing, but it was his hands cupping your breasts through your shirt that earned him his first mewl. With nothing but the t-shirt between you and his hands, Damian could surely feel your nipples budding at his touch, and pebbling more when he pressed your chest together and pinched them. Your lips met again and again, insistent, wanting.

“...Feeling these pretty tits in my hands,” he drawled, breathless.

A bone-deep shiver rattled from his hands to your spine, filling your body with hot, tingling sensations of all kinds. You’d never heard him say that word before, but the grit of it tasted delicious when you kissed him.

You were nothing but willing when Damian beckoned you on top of him. Changing had turned out to be a useless effort, since Damian immediately ripped off your bottoms, kissing eagerly at your belly as you met him in the middle. He didn’t bother to undress himself; this was about you. Your thighs were scooped up and pulled snug around Damian’s face. The nervous giggles pouring from your mouth were traded for a sharp gasp - Damian spread your folds and filled them with his warm, wet tongue without hesitation.

He drew just enough to breathe, letting out a pleased rumble at your taste. “All for me,” Damian lazily grinned.

You tried to answer him, but all that came out was a drunken, “...Nnmmyeah.”

Right away, he is everything. His smooth fingers at your entrance, his tongue, his lips - all quickly blur together, making you squirm and moan above him. Even if you’re physically on top, Damian’s sharp eyes flick up to remind you who’s really in charge. His green, lidded gaze glittered with amusement and lust, pinning you where you sat. The look is so fierce that you clench around his fingers, and Damian smirks against your sex. Just hanging there above him isn’t enough. You tip forward to fist both hands in the comforter, rocking against his face and wailing.

Damian gives your clit a deep, drugging kiss, hums a throaty chuckle, then redoubles his efforts.

When it came to the other people you’d been with, going down on you had been nothing but a precursor to the main event. Even for you it’d been boring, and consisted of more awkward waiting than pleasure. But the ferocious thing in the center of Damian’s being operated on improving, on excelling, and between your legs that thing thrives. This is in no means a chore for him. He was the best at what he did, and what he did was eat you out like an animal.

His lips sucked deeply on your swollen clit, and you felt the fingers inside of you curl, curl - and your orgasm was suddenly on top of you, pounding through every nerve in your body.

Your trembling arms gave out one after the other, and with them you collapsed sideways against the bed. As soon as Damian was out from under you, you snapped your thighs together, chasing the lingering ghost of his tongue and gasping for breath. Damian waited for your last fortifying sigh to wuff out of you to start kissing you again. His lips dragged up your legs, then your belly, then your breasts, and finally captured yours when you twisted flat on your back.

You pressed a nail to Damian’s plump bottom lip, spent and satisfied. “I guess you really did miss me...”

[griots-tales]

Princess! (Shuri fluff)

Hey guys! so this is my first ever fic on here, and it's up on Wattpad too, if you wanna read it there! Please do reblog/ comment and gimme feedback :D I'd love to hear it!

Word count: 1100 Warning: Menstruation, some sexual stuff referenced (about T'Challa), puking Characters: Shuri, T'Challa, Ramonda, T'Chaka

~

"Get off my bed, bighead!"

T'Challa playfully tackled his sister as her dirt-clad self rolled around in his once-well-made bed, refusing to go. Pillows lay randomly on the floor where they had landed after either missing or hitting either sibling. The mud stains, which particularly annoyed the older brother, stood out sorely against the white sheets.

The Prince might have been too old for pillow fights (over 31 in fact,) but he couldn't help but return the twelve-year-old's taunts.

He had finally got hold of another pillow that was soft enough to safely attack his sister with: THUMP! it flopped on her head, flattening her already out-of-shape afro. She shrieked, curling into a ball against the onslaught of the pillow. Giggling endlessly, she suffered only a few more hits until... they stopped. A moment passed before she finally had to curiously peek from under her head to see if it was a trap.

T'Challa had lowered the weapon and was scratching his beard with a faint smile on his face. Shuri was puzzled to her core.

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you if you don't get too cocky about it." T'Challa rolled his neck.

"I'll make sure to be cocky. Go on,"

Her brother sighed. "You got your first period."

~

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEah!"

"Shuri, slow down..." "Yes, take some rest,"

The child's parents tried to calm her down from her two-hour-long euphoric episode. T'Challa sat at the table too, chuckling as he watched his baby sister have the zoomies around the dining room.

"Rest is for peasants. I'm a Princess now." She paused only for a second before leaping onto a nearby chair and somersaulting down (like her Mama had taught her).

"SHURI-" Ramonda's eyes widened. "I've told you not to do that indoors!"

"Sorry mama..." the girl exited, now jumping onto furniture that lay out of their sight.

T'Challa sighed for the third time that day. "Baba, would you consider upping the age for Royal titles?"

T'Chaka smiled weakly. "It's tradition, my son... it's not of much use, but it has never done any harm, has it?"

"But maybe the belief about puberty making Royal children more mature about their titles isn't necessarily true?" Ramonda chipped in, ladling some steaming stew into her bowl. "Children don't really change that quickly..." She gazed through the intricate wooden screen at her daughter happily frolicking, albeit a little slower now.

"Maybe. They are more likely to... take it to the head." The King murmured, eyeing his son.

The Prince exaggerated an expression of betrayal. "Baba I was the nicest child ever! Not like her..."

"I HEARD THAT!" Shuri called from outside.

T'Chaka chuckled. "Nicest child, huh? Is that why you got a boyfriend the week after you became a Prince?"

"He's still bitter about that..." Ramonda whispered mischievously, passing her son the soup.

"I'm not bitter: It's just that this good boy just disregarded my advice the moment he hit puberty... I was scared that you would become rebellious!"

T'Challa rolled his eyes ever so slightly. "Baba which other father in Wakanda tells his son that boyfriends are only for after sixteen?"

"The kind of father who knows that every part of his son's public life matters when he upholds his reputation as a King."

"It wasn't public..."

"- It will be once you drift apart, T'Challa..." his mother pointed out. "You can't expect that one person you dated in eighth grade to keep everything he knew about you, private.... especially not when you're the regular talk of the town."

The Prince shrugged, biting into a piece of buttery flatbread. "I guess... except for the fact that we hooked up again a few weeks ago."

His parents exhaled in unison, their greying eyebrows rising as their eyes rolled. The Prince giggled into his mouthful of food.

"Really? While we're eating?"

"What-? What do you think we did?"

"You just said 'hook up', what else does it mean?"

"I'm more concerned about the 'again'... you two were just thirteen when you dated," T'Chaka half-whispered, with his face lined with concern.

"Baba..." T'Challa groaned " 'again' means that I had done it a month ago too!"

"Done what?" Shuri beamed, trotting in.

"Done his dinner, unlike you," Ramonda answered, gesturing at the seat beside T'Challa's.

"It's definitely not that," Shuri sassed, but obeyed her mother for once, "why are you keeping secrets from me?"

"It's no secret..." her brother nonchalantly waved the second piece of flatbread.

"This is why I sometimes get concerned, T'Challa..." T'Chaka sighed.

"That he eats dinner?" Shuri injected.

"No, sister, Baba thinks that I have too many boyfriends."

The girl shrugged. "I mean, you do... this is the third time I said hello to a new, muscular guy this week."

Ramonda stuffed her face with some curry to not laugh.

"Be quiet, it's only three." T'Challa defended, trying not to laugh as well.

"Only three- you know what? Let us stop talking about your boyfriends and eat in peace."

The family complied, quieting down and switching to a less controversial subject.

"Remember our visit to the University?"

"Oh yes, and the b- oh no..."

Ramonda rose from her seat as Shuri began gagging all of a sudden-

"I- can't eat!" the poor girl teared up from the reflex and stumbled out of her seat.

T'Chaka and his son stopped eating, cringing sympathetically as the Princess retched into the sink outside. Her mother rubbed her back and called for some lemon and medicine to be brought to soothe the nausea.

"It's okay, it's okay... it's normal." They could hear her say.

"Ughh...." Shuri croaked as she returned after a while to the dining room. "I'm not looking forward to being a princess,"

"There are so many things that will help you feel better, umtwana..." her father reassured her, "You'll be able to get into a routine as you get older."

"Yes, and you'll know what to keep ready, so that the effects won't be as bad."

"And you'll have people to do it for you if you're busy," T'Challa added, warmly hugging her with his free arm.

Shuri sighed. "Okay... but I still can't eat."

"A soup is being made for you right now, and it isn't too strongly flavored. You'll be fine." Her Mama smiled, patting her head.

The Princess returned it faintly before climbing onto her brother's seat and curling up next to him.

"Are you going to sleep here?" The Prince continued his loud munching, resuming his duty to annoy his sister.

"Mm." came a reply that he had no choice but to accept. The Black Panther he may be, but he never dared to disturb his sister once she fell asleep.

The crickets chirped as the night settled again. It was only at the end of the meal that T'Challa woke Shuri up so that she could check out  Wakanda's best night pads of all time.

~

[ateezfanficthingies]

In Too Deep - Jung Wooyoung (Vampire AU)

Word count: ????

Genre: I don't fucking know genres but I think angst??

Warning: Blood, swearing, poor writing.

Y/N is gender-neutral in this story. (The nickname princess is used once but isn't specifically because of gender.)

Y/N is a journalist and amateur detective who's been following this suspicious guy but ends up going down far more dangerous path than imagined.

This has not been proofread and I'm tired.

I DON'T OWN THIS IMAGE/THESE IMAGES. I EITHER GOT THEM FROM TUMBLR OR GOOGLE.

THIS IS MEANT PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES AND IS NOT MEANT TO REPRESENT NOR SLANDER ATEEZ NOR IT'S MEMBERS IN ANY WAY.

I knew that this would get dangerous but I didn't expect any of this.

I've been following this guy for a few weeks now. Never got any info on his workplace, friends, family, connections- heck! I never even got his name!

I would always see him slinking around this bar and so I came here often and observed how he interacted with people. He usually only stepped in to talk to one person and after that, he'd leave. After seeing this kind of interaction for the fourth time I tried following him outside, but he had completely vanished. And this was the case every single time. He just seemingly vanished even when it seemed impossible.

But I finally got him this time. This time he didn't just disappear. I managed to follow him. Out the bar to the alley on the right, down the stairs to the underground train station and through a back entrance I guess he had the keys to. I managed to slip in before the gate closed again locking automatically.

I kept following him, but had absolutely no idea where he was going. I just followed him through an endless maze. Passages of nothingness. The walls were carelessly placed not ever making a room, just a strange section of this underground area. The lights were barely doing their jobs. They were spaced so far apart and a deep red glow eminated from them, bathing the whole area in a dark crimson. It didn't take me very long to realise I was horrendously lost.

And I think that's exactly what he wanted.

I turned the exact same corner he did but he pulled that exact same vanish act. I looked frantically around the room, frozen in place, but he wasn't in this section.

"Why did you follow me down here, young one..?" his buttery voice echoed through the room and sank into my bones. I looked around even more frantically but my attention was very quickly drawn back to the centre of the room where he should have been. Gusts of wind and smoke spun around the appearing figure of the man I had been chasing.

"Run."

My body reacted before my mind could catch up and immediately I was sprinting in the opposite direction. I couldn't retrace my steps if I tried so I just focused on creating distance and prayed that the exit would reveal itself eventually.

"Y/N did you really think I didn't see you very obviously following me?"

How the fuck does he know my name?!

"W-WHO ARE YOU!?" I yelled out.

"Well maybe it was just obvious for me. Humans are pathetic when it comes to observing their surroundings." he lamented to himself.

Why is he referring to "humans" as if he is not one? I ducked into another section and had to catch my breath. Y/N you fucking dumbass! I realised something. What human materializes out of thin fucking air!? Of course he's not human!

"Why were you chasing after me, young one?" his voiced sounded as if it was right behind me even though I had my back against the wall. Regardless, I immediately began running again.

I refused to speak anymore, my only goals being creating distance between us and finding the/an exit.

"Answer my question..."

His voice was deep and gravelly yet smooth when he spoke. It was bone chilling and whenever he spoke it bounced off of the dark red walls, somehow making it sound like he was everywhere.

"My patience is running low. Don't make me just kill you..."

As I ran I managed to see a wall in front of me that led to what seemed like the opening to a room without a door. Without a second thought I ran into it. Although my legs were killing me so I had to pause again. The air was cold in my throat and lungs and I unfortunately couldn't breath quietly at all.

I received the biggest fucking fright of my entire life when a bat sped past my face. I magically didn't scream, I just watched this thing bounce around the room.

Well... I thought I recieved the biggest fucking fright of my entire life until a man dropped in from the ceiling and caught the bat in his mouth with a solid crunch as he landed. This time I did scream though.

He spat out the bat, stumbled back a bit and wiped off a bit of the blood on his mouth.

"Are you fucking nuts!?" he spat at me. When he looked back at the dead bat on the ground his face contorted into a mixture of disgust and disappointment. Like he was hoping it was something else.

His head shot up. "He's close. Come on princess!" he grabbed my wrist and we ran. His grip was (incredibly) strong and his speed was inhumanely fast, I struggled to keep up.

"What the fuck are you doing here!?" he sounded more so concerned than angry.

"I-I... I was investigating." my voice was quiet and shaky. It was also just really hard to talk when I was out of breath and trying to keep up with this speed demon.

He had managed to lead us to the entrance. He knew where the entrance was! We were okay!

"Investigating what!?" he almost yelled as we came to a screeching halt at the gate. The locked gate... He rattled the bars a little.

"Fuck..." he mumbled under his breathe before stepping back a tad to obliterate the lock with a single kick. Parts of the gate went flying and what stayed behind was bent, molded to the power of his kick.

He turned around and looked behind us to try and see something. Anything. He looked me dead in the eyes, towering over me, and giving me an opportunity to admire his... handsome face. "What were you investigating?" his tone was quieter and less aggressive and attacking.

"I-I was trying to investigate the recent mafia incident... I-I'm a journalist so I was looking for anyone suspicious who may be the leader and he was beyond suspicious and so I just... followed him." I tried to avoid eye contact, but he kept his eyes on me and huffed.

"Look, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into, ...?" he paused.

"Y-Y/N.".

"Wooyoung." I smiled at the name.

"You don't understand. I mean yeah; well done! You found the mafia leader, but you don't understand what this town's mafia is!" he softly took hold of my wrist again and led me away from the gate as he continued to keep a watchful eye on the darkness behind it.

"The mafia here is not just filled with any old criminals." He warned.

"What is it filled with then?"

"It's filled with-." something suddenly sent Wooyoung flying into the wall. As his back hit the wall the wall fractured into a nice marvel-movie worthy crater and he slid down covered in dust and into the pile of rocks that had fallen down along with him. I immediately stepped back almost falling as the mafia leader was now right in front of me, breathing heavily.

I frantically looked at him and then at Wooyoung, who was now climbing out of the rubble. He grabbed hold of the cement at his sides to pull himself up to a squat. He hissed at the man near me. I saw his eyes burn red and saw his extremely white teeth with some rather exceptional canines.

In response the leader simply growled lowly as his eyes also changed a bright red and his fangs were now visible as he grinned.

"...vampires." I finished Wooyoung's sentence.

The leader's eyes alone snapped to look at me and instantaneously Wooyoung flew from where was and tackled the man to the ground.

It was like watching two cats fight but on a much bigger scale. Wooyoung threw him into a vending machine, Wooyoung got thrown into a railing, they both threw themselves onto the train tracks. While Wooyoung was actually punching, the leader kept clawing at him.

When the leader had spun it around so Wooyoung was beneath him, Wooyoung managed to somehow kick him back into the floor next to the tracks, his spine undoubtedly smacking into the edge of the tiled floor. He was about to move but Wooyoung immediately flung himself forward and sank his teeth into his shoulder. As the leader hissed and screamed in response, Wooyoung kept sucking his blood, draining his energy. He pulled out a stake from fucking somewhere and drove it into the drained vampire that faught against him, pulling back to watch the last bit of life leave his eyes. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief.

He hopped up and sped towards me looking worried.

"Are you okay?" he had a lot of energy.

"Y-yeah I'm f-fine... Just rattled." I chuckled nervously and he laughed lightly at my reaction. His expression darkened once more though.

"Look... You really shouldn't have gotten involved in this. Just following him alone, has probably put you on their watchlist or something."

"They?"

"The mafia."

He looked me dead in the eyes.

"You're probably in a fuck load of danger, Y/N..." his words were slowly setting in but neither my mind nor my body knew how to respond.

"...But I'll protect you." my eyes widened and I only realised I had been avoiding eye contact when I looked up into his eyes and found he was smiling warmly at me.

"I mean you're in too deep now... Most likely- anyways... It's not safe for you, but I doubt you know any other vampires who can help you." I shook my head and he smiled once more.

"Well then you, got me!" he bounced lightly.

"I mean, how else are you gonna write that story without someone keeping you safe enough to write it?" he joked and I chuckled, letting out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. Our little chuckle-fest quickly died down and he looked at me with a reassuring smile.

"You're gonna be okay..."