#and his funky sleeves were fun to do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littledraga · 1 year ago

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Becile Birthday!

It’s @ask-the-becile-boys 11th birthday for the AU! Had to do something special for it! Not sure if this is it, but it’s what I did! It’s late, it’s only half edited, have fun with that. :p Thanks for keeping these funky dudes alive!

Maybe it was a little weird for Scratch to give Tatters a little scratch post a month after Christmas. It wasn't like her claws needed it, but no one said anything. And Tatters did like beating it up and napping on top of it.

When he got Locksmith mustache wax at the end of March everyone was confused. No one more than Locksmith himself. It was left with a card with a cake covered in candles. Odd? But who was he to turn down such a thoughtful gift?

Dee screamed when someone other than Hare knocked on her door. She threw open the door, intent on clawing at whoever was there. Instead of a person, there was a box with a bright bow. Inside were old records and a little bear with a loud sweater. Holding the teddy close, she looked around before slamming the door hard enough that some walls shook. Jazz filled the halls while she slowly danced around with her new little friend. It made the stifling heat as summer crept closer a little more pleasant.

Later, when summer was fully on them, Hare caught Scratch wrapping something in the lounge, struggling with tape that had gotten stuck on his shirt. Turning around this way and that, more and more tape unrolled and he huffed behind the respirator.

Hare huffed a small laugh as he walked over to take the tape before Scratch became a mummy.

"Whatcha got there?" He asked, trying to look over Scratch over his shoulder.

At first, Scratch tried to cover it with his body before his shoulders slumped. Sitting up, he offered a small wrapped box to Hare.

"I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I guess a day early won't hurt," he signed.

Taking the box, Hare tilted his head, looking at it carefully. "What is it?"

Scratch laughed enough his shoulders shook.

"It's a present. For your birthday." He paused and tilted his head a little.

"Power day? Turn on day?" He signed, not really sure what to call it.

Smoke billowed out of his cheeks.

"Wha? You remember sometin' like dat?" Looking at the wrapping paper, he scrunched his good eye.

"Uh, thanks?" He said before tentatively opening the small box. Inside were three small locks. More confused, he looked at Scratch.

He looked confused and tugged at his sleeves a moment before he explained.

'It's a lock picking kit. I know you've been practicing. So I thought you'd like some new locks." It may have made him a little uncomfortable, but he didn't think of Hare as a bad person. And he did seem to actually enjoy picking locks, just because.

Hare grinned, at least as much as his faceplate would allow.

"Thanks! 'Priciated." Hare shuffled a little from foot to foot, not sure what to do. Another quick thanks and he hurried off to put his new locks in his room.

It wasn't long after that that Scratch came up to Jack, looking nervous and holding a bag behind his back.

Jack was in the garden, watching the birds and twirling a blade of grass between his fingers, enjoying the freedom now that Riker had fixed his wires.

He noticed Scratch's shadow first. Turning around, he smiled warmly up at him and hopped to his feet.

"Good morning, Scratch! It's good to see you." He paused when he saw how nervous he was. "Are you alright?"

Scratch stalled a moment before quickly holding the bag out in front of him. Waiting for Jack to take it with a confused look, he finally explained.

"I wasn't sure what you would like. I hope it's okay?"

Blond curls bounced while Jack tilted his head.

"Oh? I'm sure whatever it is, it's lovely." Digging into the bag, Jack pulled out a short top hat and a new bow. They were older, and it showed, but still in good condition. His face split into a wide grin.

"Oh! These are lovely! Thank you, Scratch!" Holding them to his chest, he did look a bit confused.

"But I'm afraid I don't know the occasion? Surely it's not so late in the year it's Christmas again, is it? I haven't gotten you anything."

Scratch laughed, though mostly his shoulders just shook.

"It's to celebrate another year, Jack. From when you powered on first. A birthday," he signed, smiling as much as his limited face would allow.

"Oh my! I had completely forgotten about that! Thank you, Scratch! This is very sweet." Something for his first birthday since he was repaired.

"You're welcome! I need to wrap Skull's now. Take care!" Waving him off, Scratch hurried off back inside.

By now, the manor had caught on to what he was doing. So a few days later when Skull saw him from the corner of his eye while he was taking a rare moment to relax and knit, he put his needles down.

"Hey, Skull." Scratch lifted up another bag.

"Happy birthday. Or um wake up day? Or?" He still didn't know what to call it.

Skull watched him for a moment, pretending not to notice the bag in Scratch's hand.

"Birthday is fine." It was a human thing anyway.

"Thanks," he huffed. But before he could pick up the needles again, there was a bag in his lap. Looking up, he saw Scratch looking at him expectantly. Smoke curled from his neck as he sighed.

Looking inside the bag, he carefully pulled out skeins in various colours and a new set of needles.

"I know you have some yarn already, but I thought you might like having some new colours," he explained.

Skull's face softened. Or at least as much as his faceplate would allow.

"Thank you. They're good colours. And I did need some new knitting needles. I appreciate it." When Scratch beamed, he laughed. Just a single chuckle.

"You've been busy."

Which made the man beam more. Or as much as he could.

"Everyone deserves something good on their birthday. It's important!" He enthusiastically signed.

"We always had big parties when I was growing up."

Skull hummed at that. He wasn't sure he remembered any kind of birthday celebration. Even when Thaddeus was alive there were no celebrations at the manor. Frivolous things he would call them. But Thaddeus wasn't here anymore.

Things were quiet, for a little while. Then Scratch took to the kitchen at the end of July. He was cooking up a large batch of chicken and dumplings and sides. Something that had the robots peeking around the corner.

Hare spoke up first, walking over to look over Scratch’s shoulder as the man seasoned some chicken in a pan with what looked like dough in a bowl.

“This doesn’t look like a smoothie,” said Hare while he tried to figure out what was going on.

Scratch stopped long enough to quickly sign.

“Chicken and dumplings. It’s Riker’s birthday. So I thought I’d make him something while he was down in the workshop.”

Hare looked at Skull, who was still at the doorway. He just shrugged.

“Looks like a lot of work for someone that just eats ramen. When he eats,” huffed Hare, moving when Skull gave him a hard look. It wasn’t like it was his fault!

“It’s his birthday,” explained Scratch simply.

“Everyone needs to have something nice on their birthday.” And he was back to cooking away, leaving the two to look confused. It wasn’t like they had a lot of experience with birthdays.

After too long in the workshop, trying to keep the tools from getting too rusted to use, Riker nearly cried when he saw a banquet set out just for him. Scratch had to push him into a seat to get him to eat.

“Man, this is better than Ma's from when I was a kid.” Riker suddenly stopped, spoon halfway to his face to glance at Scratch who was looking rather proud of himself.

“Don’t ever tell her I said that.” As if anyone here would likely meet her, but a man couldn’t be too sure.

Scratched crossed his fingers over his chest before putting away the leftovers. At least Riker would be eating real food for a couple days.

A week later, Riker found himself cornered in the workshop by three robots. Even if they, probably, wouldn’t hurt him, it was still unnerving. Crossing his arms over his chest and a cigarette hanging off his lip, he watched them, waiting for some explanation as to why they were ganging up on him. Jack broke first.

“What do you do for birthdays?” He asked and stepped into the room, careful to give the workbench as wide a birth as he could.

He grinned a little, just a smidge. “It’s about Scratch’s turn, ain’t it?”

Hare huffed and followed Jack in.

“Yeah, and we wanna know what yer ‘sposed to do for a birthday.”

Riker just shrugged.

“Been a while. Mostly a lot of drinking, but I don’t think Scratch would be real interested in that,” he told them as he put out his cigarette.

“I’ve heard that people like surprise parties. Do you know about those?” inquired Jack innocently enough.

A brief memory and Riker shuddered. A surprise of people, never something he wanted. When the other three looked at him with concern, he quickly brushed them off.

“A surprise birthday party would mean keeping him out of the manor or at least part of it. Guess this place is plenty big enough. Normally they decorate the room, have cake and presents, and do stuff the birthday person likes,” he explained.

Tapping his chin, Skull thought that over for a moment. Smoke curled from his neck vents as he started to plan.

“Cake wouldn’t be a good idea. Scratch can’t eat it,” he reminded them.

When Hare shoved his hands into his pockets, pretending not to pout, Riker tried not to laugh.

“Probably a bad idea,” he agreed.

“But they have ice cream too. Could probably make him a shake?” he offered, leaning against one of the tables.

Skull looked up at that.

“There’s probably some kind of birthday milkshake. I’m sure I can find something.” With his mission decided, Skull made his way back upstairs.

“Well, that’s one thing settled,” huffed Hare, still looking sour.

“We could decorate the lounge?” offered Jack with a smile.

“We’ve seen movies. I bet we could do something spectacular!” When Hare perked up a little, Jack’s smile grew. Taking Hare’s arm, he gently tugged Hare away They had planning to do.

But at the door, Hare turned to look at Riker, pointing a gloved hand at him.

“We’ll get it planned, but you gotta keep him busy for a while, got it?”

Riker rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll tell him I need to check his leg or somethin’. Now get goin’. I need a drink.” he muttered as they all left. There was plenty to do.

It was hot when Scratch’s birthday came around, it was easy to get him down to the workshop for a look over. At least it was cooler in the basement levels.

“I haven’t been having any more trouble than normal,” he explained while Riker was looking the knee over. It may have been a cover, but it didn’t hurt to look while he had the chance.

“That’s good. Everythin’ looks fine. I just want to make sure I ain’t missin’ somethin’,” he explained. Eventually, Scratch got a clean bill of health. Or at least the machine part of him did. There was no way anything ‘living’ was going to be healthy here. But still, Riker kept looking. At least until he heard three bangs on the floor above him.

“Looks like you’re right as rain!” He sarcastically cheered as he backed up to let Scratch get to his feet as he put his tools away.

“Why don’t we head up and get something to drink? Should be something cold in the fridge.”

Scratch nodded and would wait for Riker.

“Wish I could eat popsicles,” he signed while they walked.

“Used to be the best part of summer.”

“Ya know, that does sound pretty good,” he agreed as they walked.

“But I can think of something better.” As Scratch looked to him for an answer, Riker stepped into the lounge and waited for him.

Inside was a messy banner that had ripped in three places when they tried to hang it up. A few messily wrapped boxes sat on the coffee table as well as two oversized shakes covered in tiny sprinkles.

Everyone, save Dee, who refused to come downstairs, was waiting for him. Jack was smiling brightly.

“Happy Birthday!” They all said at once, some with more enthusiasm than others.

Scratch stood still, looking at everything. His remaining eye teared up.

“Thank you,” he signed once, twice, and again, and again. There was static from the vent. It was hard to tell if it was laughter or a sob.

Skull stepped over with his gift, handing it to Scratch.

“You told us birthdays were important,” he reminded him as he pressed the wrapping paper into his hand. Inside was a box set to an anime Scratch had been talking about.

Scratch took his time with each gift, gushing with everyone. Even Locksmith was at least, mostly, agreeable for the party. He’d be up late with his new anime and shipping on yet another birthday cake shake. Best birthday.

#becile bots #spg #birthday

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aeivyen · 3 months ago

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Steph Made a Maze, chapter 1

A vampiric romance I've been writing for awhile, but haven't shared (on here). Content warnings on this chapter for sex. If you've been here awhile you might recognize the characters, but it's def not important if you do

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"Do you wanna go bowling with me?"

Steph wasn't entirely certain what she was anticipating when the guy walked up, long sleeved salmon-pink polo and khaki dress slacks not quite fitting the neon noise of the club, thick dark hair pulled back in a soft bun. It hadn't been that question. She stopped swirling the glass in her hand.

"I mean, sorry, you just don't look like you're having a good time? Every time I've glanced over this way you've been leaning against the bar and sipping at your drink, and you look bored; and I can't blame you, because I'm not having a good time either," he continued. Laughed a little, eyes crinkling. "My friends kinda dragged me here and then semi-ditched me. But I did some googling and there's a bar-and-bowling place just down the street from here, and you're cute, and I'd love to buy you some nachos or something and talk somewhere quieter."

He wasn't wrong, exactly. He talked fast, with a squeak in his voice like he wasn't used to talking over the crowd and the music. "Or I could leave you alone. I'm bothering you. I'll-"

"No, no," she shook her head, setting the drink back on the bar behind her. "You're not bothering me. I was just expecting some weird pickup line and you caught me off guard," she assured. This was the most interesting thing to happen in a while; damn, but she wanted to see where this went. "Bowling sounds fun."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He laughed, and there was that crinkle around his eyes again. Then a nod as he slowly came to the conclusion that she was being serious. "Alright. Cool. I'm Tom, by the way," he offered a hand, giving hers a slight squeeze when she shook it.

"Steph. Nice to meet you," she pulled back, flashing a smile. Careful about the teeth. "Show me to the bowling place?" The hunting hadn't been going well tonight, and it had been for herself anyway; she could wait another day to eat. She'd gone longer without feeding.

Tom grinned. They lingered in the bar long enough for her to pay off her tab and for him to text his friends about ditching them. Then he brought up the directions on his phone and they were out in the cool night, the bumping bass fading into the background of the city. Steph sighed; that was always a relief.

"Are your ears still ringing, or just mine?" He hummed, breaking the quiet as they walked side by side, rubbing one of his ears.

"They play the music so loud! It's almost painful," she lamented. It had been physically painful the first several times she'd gone hunting in places like that, and it still was sometimes, but she'd learned to deal. "I don't know how anyone stands it."

"Honestly," he laughed. "It's not for me. If it weren't for being dragged over," he shook his head. Fixed the couple ringlets that had come loose. "I mean it sounds fun on paper, but."

"No, I get it. If I knew what else to do with myself I probably wouldn't go either." She sighed. Every once in a while she'd go hunting in a quieter bar, but the buzzing crowds generally offered better odds. "But clubbing is the kinda thing you're just supposed to like, right?"

"I get that impression too." Tom hummed, nudging her arm. "Oh, I see it: Up My Alley. Right there."

Up My Alley bowling and bar was a far cry from any bowling alley she'd ever seen. The crack of ball against bowling pin contrasted with relaxed bassy strings, the bar tucked up front with the shoe locker and lanes hiding behind it. Red velvety carpet and the smell of cheap nacho cheese. "Weird~ where's the funky carpet and the blacklight?"

"There's a little bit of an identity crisis, I think." He giggled, pausing with her at the door to take it all in. "I like it."

"Definitely interesting."

"Like a jazz club and a bowling alley had a baby."

A snort of laughter, and Steph shook her head. "Okay, well, let's get our bowling shoes and rent a lane, hm?" She waved him further in, and he ducked ahead of her just as they were reaching the counter so he could pay.

"Want any drinks or snacks? Nachos are still on the table." He offered as they changed out of their shoes.

"I'm not hungry, but thanks." She hummed, adding, "could go for a water if you go to grab anything, though."

"Water it is~ I'm gonna see if they have any ciders on tap. Meet you at our lane?"

"Meet you there."

Steph wandered over to the lane, poking at the little interface, nose wrinkling: touch screen. She was getting better with them but they still felt weird; whatever happened to buttons? Maybe she'd leave that for Tom. Went to pick out a ball next, testing out one after the next and settling on the heaviest.

Tom wandered over with a cider and a bottle of water, offering a grin as he handed her drink over. "One water for the lady."

"Thank you," she smiled back, taking it gently. It was nice that it was a bottled water. "I'm no good with the touch screen things; would you mind doing that part?"

"Oh? Yeah, sure," he hummed, sipping at his drink and tapping at it. "Not great with technology?"

"Doesn't come naturally." She shook her head, cracking the seal and taking a drink. "I find a lot of the app stuff confusing. No one labels their buttons properly anymore, they just kinda expect you to know what they're supposed to do based on color or placement or whatever."

He hummed softly, typing something in. "Yeah, that's true isn't it? My younger cousin tried to show me how to snapchat and I swear, it's all just swipe this or that."

"Awful." She made a face, cracking into laughter when he glanced over.

With a couple more taps to the screen he hummed, nodded, then stepped back. "I think I got it. It's your turn first, so why don't you go and I'll pick out a ball?"

"Sounds like a plan~"

It took a few frames worth of gutterballs for Steph to find just the right amount of power to use; it was safer to start too weak than it would be to overshoot it. "Ah, yes! Spare~" she cheered, high fiving Tom on her way back to the seats.

"You're getting it now." He giggled, fussing with his bowling ball while they waited for the pins to set up again. "So, if you don't bowl much, and you don't really like the club, then how do you usually pass the time?"

"Oh," she blinked, "well, I guess I mostly work. I do hang out at the clubs pretty often," she admitted, offering a slight shrug. "I mean, how else do you meet people, right? But, yeah. Mostly work."

"I get that." A nod. "What do you do for work?"

"That's a good question," she laughed. "It's, well -- I do a lot of odd jobs, academia related. Remote stuff. I've got a history degree specializing in the oral traditions of Central America -- or, what's now considered 'Central America'," she griped, blushing a little when he leaned in to listen. "Um, anyway. Mostly not to do with that. I peer review articles sometimes, or help out in the Writers Workshop at the local community college when they have their night classes."

"That's so cool~ I never managed to finish school, but it was a good time." Grabbing his ball, he waggled his eyebrows, knocking over all but two of the pins and cheering.

"Nice one~" Steph cheered with him as he walked back to reclaim his ball. "What do you do for a living?"

"I, ah," his cheeks colored in pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nothing special. I'm an assistant manager at a little mom-and-pop grocer. Puts food on the table." He shrugged, fussing with his near empty glass before taking another sip.

Steph pat his arm. "Yeah? I bet that's a hard job, working with people all the time."

"It can be. Some people are nice, you know," he shrugged. His ball clattered back up into the return, and he picked it up. "Others not so much. I'm sure you know how it is: I get through."

"I get that," she hummed, sipping at her water. "Oh, you got this~ get that spare."

"I'll get it." He grinned, heading back out. He carefully considered his place, and his angle, and practiced his throw a couple times before actually making it. Held his breath during the follow-through. Steph caught her eyes trailing down his back and quickly refocused on the ball rolling down the lane. It hit just the edge of the pins, only toppling one. "Damn."

"So close! You'll get it next time." She assured when he came back, shaking out her curls and taking a sip of water. This was just bowling.

A chagrined smile. "Giving you a chance to catch up."

"It's so appreciated, I need it." Steph laughed. Watched the machine set the pins back down. "So, what kind of stuff do you do? In your off time, I mean."

"I watch a lot of movies," he offered, "does that count?"

"Yeah, that counts," she giggled. Sighed, "I need to watch more movies." Picked up her ball. "I see the trailers sometimes, mostly when my roommates are using the tv, and I always mean to watch the movie when it comes out but I never do."

"No?"

A shrug. "I guess I never get around to it. Feels like I'm always running around," she shook her head. "I read more than I watch things, but that's mostly because I keep a book next to my bed."

"I guess that's fair. I have a subscription to a couple of those indie movie websites, if that tells you anything about how much I like and watch them," he flushed. "Not in a pretentious way, though. Promise."

She snickered. Teased, "Oh, promise? Your taste hasn't evolved too far past the average moviegoer?"

"Nope," he popped the word, not quite holding a straight face. "I still watch all of the blockbusters, and they're mostly fine. They can be a good time."

Steph held the ball close, nearly doubling over when the humor caught up to them. "Then you'll have to give me some recommendations maybe. Can't promise I'll get to them, but," she shrugged, "always looking to add things to the list. Be right back; I feel like I'm ready for a strike."

"You got this!"

She did have it. Even got another and a spare before the end of the game, closing in on Tom's score even if she didn't win. "Aw man~ next time, next time I'll get 'ya," she promised, shaking a fist at his hammy little winner's dance. Then doubled over with laughter.

"Next time?" His heart picked up slightly. She bit her lip. "Wanna go another round then?"

"Night's still young," she agreed, checking her watch. Six hours until dawn. "I think they're going to be shutting down here soon, though. Maybe something else?"

His brows went straight up, and he swallowed hard. "Um, my place is only about fifteen minutes from here; we can watch a movie maybe?" His pulse was racing now. She didn't want to put a name to that; there was a pounding in her chest, too.

The night was still young. "Do you have anything weird but approachable?"

"I think I have just the thing," he nodded after a moment. "Do you need to get your car?"

Steph shook her head. "I took the bus. Your car?"

"In a lot down the street."

They turned in their shoes. Tom offered his arm as they left the building, and she cozied next to him. The night had gone from cool to cold, and he felt even warmer in comparison. Held her close, but not firm; the kind of light touch that drew back the moment she shifted even an inch away.

"Blue honda, right here," he pointed out, drawing away to unlock the car and throw open the passenger's side door for her. Went around the other side as she was climbing in. "Door's a little fussy, but it'll close so long as you're a little firm with it."

She was firm, and it closed easily. The radio popped to life as soon as he turned the key, a half-second of loud caterwauling music before he turned it back off. "Don't like that song?"

"Not really fitting for the mood." He breathed a laugh, shaking his head. Pulled the band out of his hair as he settled into the driver's seat, curls spilling over his shoulders. Fussed with the console and turned the music back up on something with breathy vocals and a jazzy rhythm. Reversed, pulled out into traffic.

Steph tapped her knees to the syncopated beat. "Catchy."

"If you like my taste in music then that bodes well for my taste in movies, I think." He scratched at the steering wheel. His complexion was soft and golden whenever the glow of the streetlights hit him through the window.

"I like this kind of vocal, where it's not like," she clicked her tongue, "smooth? There's a raw edge to it that feels real."

A lingering glance over. A lick of his lips, then he shook his head and refocused on the road. "Yeah, heh. I think I know just the right movie."

He parked at a quiet apartment block, not too dissimilar to the place she was living: all flat off-white paint, lights flickering, not quite in disrepair but past its better days. The broken elevator left them to walk up three flights of stairs to his apartment proper: not too cramped, furnished with worn-in browns and greens. The smell of incense and candle smoke and pungent cooking spices lingering in the air. Tom flicked on a lamp, warming up a corner of the room.

"Make yourself comfortable, please don't mind the mess too much. I wasn't really expecting company."

"You have a nice place." Steph hummed, taking in the pile of dishes and the scattered belongings on the coffee table he was hastily straightening; not much of a mess. Toed off her shoes, tucking them neatly by the door. "I like the posters."

He followed her eyes to the collection. Even in the dim light she could see the color in his cheeks deepen. "Oh, heh, yeah? The theater down the way sometimes lets me have those once they're done with them."

"Fits you, Mr. Cinephile."

A snort of laughter, and he covered his face. "Okay for the record those are your words, I never called myself that. You don't even," he caught his breath, biting back the protests. Shook his head. "Um, bathroom is the door on the right, down that way. Do you mind if I-?"

"You do what you need to," she laughed. "I'm good for now."

"Alright. Cool. Um, I'll be right back."

He disappeared into the bathroom, and she came around to take a seat on the little couch, sinking in on the plush cushions. Rubbed her palm against the soft corduroy texture. The small windows on the wall opposite overlooked the street, letting in light on either side of the television.

"So, um," Tom cleared his throat as he came out. "Do you need anything? A drink? I've got water, some juice," his hair was fluffed. Sleeves rolled up carefully. His belt was gone.

Steph bit her lip. "I'm alright, thank you. Is it just you here?"

"Yeah," he nodded, closing the distance and turning on the television; he smelled like cinnamon mouthwash and almond perfume now. "I'm pretty lucky I could afford a place just to myself. You said you had roommates, right?"

"Two. It's not so bad; we've pooled our money, so we all have our own bedrooms and we just share the bath and the main rooms," not that it was much of a problem. She shrugged. "It works for us. We're pretty close."

"That's good." He drew the curtains in. Hummed, "it can be really nice to live with friends." Sat next to her, started fussing with the remote, clicking through his movie apps to find what he was looking for.

She nodded agreement. "It's good for me. I lived alone for a bit; the company is nice."

"Yeah?" He glanced over. "How old are you?"

Her lips pursed; it wasn't the first time she'd gotten this question. How to play it this time? "How old do you think I am?" He made a face, and she laughed. Bit her lip. "You can guess, I won't be offended. Hint: I'm older than I look."

He took a breath, almost answered, then frowned and looked her over again. "28 or 29?"

She nodded, sitting back further into the cushions. "Good guess."

"Am I right?" He asked carefully. Then, when she didn't answer, started laughing. "Wait, no, am I right or not? Are you not gonna tell me?"

Steph laughed with him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Come on," he pleaded, giving her a gentle shove. She doubled over, giggling into her knees. "What if I tell you my age? I'm 31."

She snorted. Sat up and fixed her hair. "That's a good age." Bit back her laughter into a tight lipped grin.

"Older? Are you older than me?"

She shrugged, then forced a nonchalant expression. "I told you, I'm older than I look." Glanced to the tv; silent trailer playing on half of the screen, rows and rows of movies listed underneath. "So what are we watching?"

He huffed. Shook himself out of it, fumbling with the remote in his off hand before managing to get back to what he was doing. "Let me pull it up; I think you'll like it. This guy builds a maze out of cardboard in his living room, then gets lost in it because it's bigger on the inside."

"Weird," she snickered. Pretended not to notice when an arm snaked around her waist, or how she leaned back into him. At least until the first scene inside the maze, when she gasped and leaned forwards. "Oh what? Oh that looks so cool."

Tom snickered. "Right?"

"How long do you think it took to make all that?"

"A few days?" He shrugged. "Probably depends on how many people were working on it."

With the quiet already broken Steph commented unrelentingly on the set designs, chimed in on the conversations happening on screen. Tom explained a couple of the visual effects he understood. Paused the movie when the question "what kind of maze would you make and get trapped in?" was floated. His, he insisted, would look just like an Ikea if it were only different set-dressed mud rooms. Steph thought hers would be a hallway where she could only walk forwards because everything behind her always disappeared; she didn't mention the smell of iron.

They eventually finished the movie. Put on another after because it was short and Tom thought she'd like the visuals, and there was plenty of time for her to still get home: three hours until dawn, and they were on the right side of town for the walk to maybe be half an hour if she hurried. Got caught up in a long conversation about the ethics of forcing ghosts to 'move on' if they were stuck in the living world.

This, obviously, had to be followed up by a mockumentary on the afterlife that was drier than either of them thought it would be. Tom made it halfway through before the yawns he'd been suppressing finally broke through his resolve, leaning on Steph's shoulder when he nodded off. She struggled to get to the end. Once it was finished she could see herself out, head home, get back to her normal life.

Tom was warm. His hair was soft where it brushed against her neck, a whisper of almond perfume radiating off it. Gentle rhythm of his heartbeat drumming, ever so slightly faster on each inhale, then settling again on the exhale. The movie was so dull, almost nothing was happening in the visuals. She could close her eyes and just listen to the rest, and she wouldn't be missing anything.

~~~

A far off sound. A bright light on her face. A gentle singe.

Steph winced. Cracked an eye open and saw sunlight. Hissed. "Fuck! Shit," threw something over her head. Tucked away under whatever cover she could. Squirmed underneath the couch cushions to get further away. "Close that! Close that!"

"Ah, um," Tom babbled. The sound of the curtains closing again. "Sorry! I didn't mean to wake you, I-"

"I, it's -- fuck," she muttered. "I'm, um, shit. I'm so -- the sun? I can't, I'm severely-" what the fuck was she supposed to say? "Allergic. To the sun. It's, um," she swallowed. There was a term for this. She learned it for just this occasion. "Solar urticaria? U-r-t-i-caria. Just like a minute of sunlight and I'll-" crumble into ash, "-get horrible blisters. It's bad. I basically have to be nocturnal. Oh fuck."

There was a long, keening, confused noise from somewhere across the room. Her heart was racing. Steph managed to poke the smallest of peepholes out from the cushions and blanket -- since when was there a blanket? -- to see the windows were safely covered. Sighed in relief.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that, um."

"You didn't know. It's fine. Just, um," fuck. She slowly unburied herself, cringing at the disarray she'd made of the couch. She didn't make it home. She fell asleep here and the sun was fully up; what time was it? Checked her watch and nearly choked: 11:50. B and Anthony were going to be so worried.

She pat her pockets; her wallet was in one, the other was empty. Where was her phone? Didn't she --

She groaned and buried her face into the arm of the couch. It was on the kitchen island. She set it there before she left to go hunting; it was still weird trying to bring her phone with her hunting.

"Are, um. Are you okay?" Tom winced from closer to the couch.

"I forgot my phone at home and my roommates are gonna freak out." Steph groaned.

"You could call them on my phone?" He offered.

"I don't know their numbers; I always just use the contact button," she muttered. Fixed her hair to look up at him. "Is it cool if I hang here until sunset?"

He took a breath. "Yeah, ah. Well luckily I don't have work today, so that's fine, so long as you're cool with me doing some chores? It's a chores day for me."

"Yeah, no, of course you can," she shook her head, "I can help with the chores maybe? I'm a wiz with a broom." She squeaked. Muttered, "did I really just say that?" Sighed and flopped her head back down.

An awkward laugh. "Oh, ah, I'm not gonna make you help me clean up. It's fine."

"No, I want to. Let me be helpful."

"Maybe let's focus on breakfast first?" He tentatively pat her back. "How do you feel about eggs?"

She cringed, and he pulled back. "Um, funny about that,"

"Oh, vegan?"

"No. Far from it. Just," she took a breath. Sat up properly. "I, um. I'm on this medical fast. I'm fasting. I won't be able to eat until tonight, which is fine because I'm on this weird diet for my health; I don't usually go into it with strangers."

He stared for a long moment. "Okay. Um, you don't mind if I-"

"Eat?" She finished. "Are you wondering if I care about you eating around me?"

A wince. "It just seems rude?"

"It's not. I'd be concerned if you didn't eat on my account. This is," she shook her head. Made a couple of vague gestures. "I'm used to this. This is just life for me." A short pause. He looked like a confused puppy, but one that was giving her the benefit of the doubt at least. "Does your bathroom have a window?"

"No. No windows in the bathroom, you're good there. Okay." He fixed his hair, the collar of his shirt; not the polo from last night, but an olive green satin that was almost a nightshirt. "I guess I'll just start breakfast for one, and we'll go from there?" He suggested, sighing heavily when she nodded.

"Perfect. I'm going to go freshen up."

Steph escaped into the bathroom. Rinsed her face with some cold water. Breathed through the buzzy anxiety starting to creep into her fingers: this was fine. Sure, she was stuck in some strange guy's apartment until nightfall. And the others didn't know where she was or what had happened, and she didn't have her phone to let them know.

Bright sides, bright sides: Tom seemed nice. Skeptical maybe, but hearing her out. She could do some chores with him and then maybe watch more movies? That had been nice. This was fine. It'd be fine.

She dried her face. Used the bathroom. Fixed her curls once her hands were clean and dry again. When she came back out the couch cushions were all back in their places. The smell of melting butter hit her first, then onions. Eggs. Paprika. Tom was humming softly over a sizzling fry pan. An apron tied around his waist emphasizing a curve she hastily looked away from.

"You have a nice voice."

He fumbled with the pepper grinder he'd been grabbing. His hair was pulled back again, exposing the hint of pink rising up his neck as his heartbeat stuttered.

She forced her eyes away and leaned against the far side of the counter. "Anything I can help out with?"

"You wa- heh, I," he shook his head, "You walk so quiet. Startled me."

"Sorry," she snickered, glancing around and settling on the sink. "I can start dishes while you're cooking, if you want?"

Tom gave her a withering look over his shoulder, stirring whatever he was working on. "You really don't have to."

"I'd like to. I'd feel weird just sitting around while you were doing chores, especially," she made a face. "You didn't exactly ask for all this. I mean neither of us did, but you're being a very good sport about it."

He took a deep breath. "It's thrown me for a little bit of a loop. When you came over I was kind of hoping you'd stay for breakfast," he admitted. The pounding in his chest was loud, she looked at anything else. "And it's not exactly what I was imagining, but I think we can still have a good time."

"I think we can, too," something fluttered in her stomach. She cleared her throat; no need to think about that. "I'm going to do the dishes unless you stop me."

A sputtered protest, "that's not-- my hands are full, that's not fair."

She stuck her tongue out at him, turning on the water to fill up the sink. "Don't burn your eggs please, it'll make the pan more difficult to clean," she teased. Rolled up her sleeves. The dish soap and sponge were conveniently next to the sink.

Tom muttered about her playing dirty, but dissolved into laughter before he could finish the thought. Steph giggled along as she got to work, listening as he finished cooking. Turned off the stove, scraped the eggs onto a plate. Tentatively set the warm pan off to the side with the rest of the dirty dishes. "Thanks."

"You should eat," she hummed, taking the pan to work on next. "And tell me what other chores we're gonna be working on today."

He sighed. "Dishes were the biggest one," he hummed. Took a bite. "I was thinking about doing the floors today. You know; sweep, vacuum, mop. Maybe dust. And I don't care how insistent you are, I'm not letting you clean my bathroom."

"Alright, alright," she snickered. "Have it your way."

He took a couple more bites, then winced slightly. "And, um. I was going to make bread today, but I don't-"

"Fresh bread's delicious; you should definitely do that."

"And I won't be able to share it with you! I'll feel bad."

"Come on," she teased, flicking a sudsy hand at him. "I'd love to help bake some, at least get to enjoy that process."

He pat at the soap bubble clinging to his apron. Opened his mouth like he was going to protest again, but shifted to let it go. Offered a soft smile. "Alright, alright," he relented. "Let me finish eating first."

By the time she finished up he'd brought the dough together. Turned to her as he rolled his sleeves up, "help me knead?"

"Of course~"

It was like riding a bike, sticky dough coming together as she found the rhythm again. Tried not to stare at his hands as they worked his portion into something supple and yielding. Bit her lip. "I missed this."

"You bake bread a lot?"

"I used to, ages ago," she shrugged. "Not allowed to eat it anymore so it's been awhile. Suppose I could make some to give away but," she shook her head. "You know."

"Yeah," he hummed softly. A long moment, just the sounds of kneading; the rhythm of breath and heartbeat in sync with hands against dough, dough against counter. "It sounds hard. All this medical stuff, I mean."

Steph took a deep breath. "That's life. Our bodies change, we change; sometimes there's a give and a take." She shrugged. Passed the dough from hand to hand to form a smooth ball. "I wouldn't be where I am without my limitations," she bumped his side, "and I kinda like where I am right now."

His heart stuttered, and she giggled with him. "I think mine is ready to rise; you have a bowl?"

"I- right. A bowl." He grinned, stepping away to grab one.

They left the bread to rise while sweeping the floors. Tom put on dance music just in time for the vacuum to come out; Steph took the opportunity to sing along while he couldn't quite hear her. Shaped the dough into loaves for the second rise. Danced and dusted. He ate a quick lunch, sharing a bottle of soda with her. Wiped down counters. By the time the oven was pre-heated and the bread ready to go in the apartment was as clean as Steph was allowed to help with.

Tom set the oven timer, untying his apron and taking the band out of his hair. "Okay, so, we have 40 minutes to kill before they'll be ready to take out. Should we watch a movie?"

"Sounds good to me," she grinned. Leaned back against the couch.

He fixed his hair as he came around. "Any requests? Something you're in the mood for."

"I'm not sure," she hummed, taking a seat next to him. His pulse sped up just slightly; fuck, it was thrilling every time. "I think I picked the last one, didn't I? Why don't you pick. I trust your taste."

"Okay," he nodded. Clicked through a couple of menus. Tentatively broached, "would it be weird, or too much, if I were to suggest a romance?"

Steph swallowed. "Is that something that's on your mind?"

"Maybe," he admitted. She could practically feel the heat radiating off him. "Is that okay?"

"It's," she sighed, feeling her own face warming. Fidgeted with the hems of her sleeves. Kept her eyes straight ahead on the television. "It's been awhile for me. I won't pretend it doesn't sound good."

A soft laugh, and he shifted closer. "We're not talking about movies anymore, are we?"

She dared a glance over. Bit her lip. "No," she sighed. Forced a laugh, held herself from shying away. "No, I'm not sure we are anymore."

"Okay," his head bobbed in a nod, eyes wandering over her face. Settled on lips. Flicked back up. "And if I told you I've been wondering about what it'd be like to kiss you?"

"I'd," something in her chest buzzed pleasantly. She couldn't help a glance down at his mouth. "I'd admit that it might've crossed my mind. Once or twice."

A nod. He shifted closer again, turned, his knee brushing over hers; her heart pounded in her chest. "We could satisfy that curiosity, if you wanted. I'd be more than okay with that."

She took his hands, squeezing softly. "It's been a long time. I mean, a very long time."

"Highschool?" He guessed, and she snickered.

"Something like that." She shook her head. "Go slow with me?"

"As slow as you want," he promised. Hands came up to cup her face; they were warm, soft. She licked dry lips, watched his eyes flick down again. He leaned in, looked back for permission; she gave a slight nod. A thumb ran across her bottom lip, and she pressed into the kiss that followed.

Soft lips. A slow, gentle kiss. She cupped his face, brushed against the slightest amount of stubble. Moved to soft hair. His hand moved down, then a grip at her waist pulled her closer. Heart beating hard in her chest. Loud in his. A moan.

When she pulled back to catch her breath he trailed kisses up her jaw, down her throat. She swallowed hard, lifting her chin to give him access. Moaned, twisted fingers in his hair. "Shit~ I-" Imagined teeth, broken skin, warm blood spilling. Pain and panic and bliss. Her breath caught in her throat. She flinched back, ducking her chin to hide her neck. "T-Tom, please,"

"Sorry," he moved away. Smoothed her hair back. "Is this too far?" Voice soft and gravely, dark eyes gentle and caring.

"No, just," she shook her head. Swallowed the memories, the want, back down. "It's okay. Just not my neck. Anywhere but," caught her breath, pressed their foreheads together. "It's more intense than I thought."

"We can stop." He assured, snickering when she peppered kisses over his cheeks. Hands tightened on her waist. "Or we can keep going?"

"I'd like to keep going."

Tom kissed her, long and sweet and yielding when she deepened it. She squeezed his shoulders, twisted fingers in his hair. His trailed up, brushed underneath the hem of her shirt. Pulled away enough to meet her eyes. "Is this okay? Can I take this off you?"

"If we take this off you," she fussed with the buttons on his shirt, biting her lip when undoing it exposed some hair on his chest. Felt the thrum of his heart through his ribs. He laughed, pulling her hands up and kissing her palms. "Fair is fair, right?"

"Fair is fair."

His shirt went first, then hers went over her head. Her fingertips ran though chest hair, traced a soft stomach. He ducked to pepper kisses down her chest, at the edges of a simple black bra. Straddled her waist. She groaned when he pressed her back, moving down her stomach. Buried her hands in his hair.

"Is this okay?" His breath on her waist, fingertips sinking beneath her waistband.

"Yes, yes, yes." Steph swallowed hard. Lifted her hips when he slipped the material down. "Fuck, Tom," she keened, turning to cover the blush creeping up her face. He moaned, sunk lower, settled on his knees beside the couch. Sucked at her hips. Gently parted thighs. "Tom,"

"You're beautiful~" He paused in his ministrations, looking up at her. "Is this alright? Not too much?" There were goosebumps where his thumbs rubbed over her leg, tracing light scars.

She forced a couple hard breaths. "It's good. It's alright. I- fuck," dissolved into a long sigh when mouth found skin again. A tongue traced her lower lips, around her clit. She balled her hands against the couch cushions. "Fuck."

Steph's head spun as he ate her slowly. She'd been savored before, but not like this. Her hearing caught on his soft groans, on the excited heaving of his chest. The far away sound when she whined his name, when he drew a moan or a pant out of her. On the oven timer beeping and the soft curse that followed.

He laughed lightly, "oh no~" Leaned his head against her thigh.

"Come on," she sighed, rubbing her face.

"I know, rude." Tom snickered. Got up, kissed her temple and touched their foreheads together for just a second. "I'll be right back, don't want it to burn. Don't move a muscle."

"I'm moving all my muscles." She huffed. Stretched. Sat up, grabbing the blanket to cover herself. Heard the sink come on and looked back to see him washing his hands. He flicked the water off them, hastily tossed his apron back on, used a tea towel to retrieve the loaf pans from the oven. "They smell good~"

"Look good, too. Just gotta," he turned one of them out, hissing at the heat. Tapped at the bottom, nodding at the hollow sound. "Yeah that's done." Dropped it onto a cooling rack. Then the other.

Steph watched him, leaning over the back of the couch. "Your bedroom have a window?"

He stopped with the apron halfway off again. "It has blackout curtains."

"That'll work." She hummed. "Should we move over there so you're not kneeling on the floor?"

"I'd kneel for you anytime~" He smirked, hanging the apron back up.

Snickering, she ducked to hide her face in the couch cushion. Shook her head. "That can't be good for your knees."

"Aw, you're worried about my knees?" He giggled. Washed his hands again. "Let me make sure the curtains are drawn, and we can move to the bed. How far are you okay with going? I do have condoms: latex, and non-latex. Though," he rubbed the back of his neck, "probably should check the expiration before we use them."

She hesitated. "I'm not opposed to that. It's just,"

"Been a long time." He nodded. Bit his lip. "Let's take it a moment at a time. I'll let you know when it's safe to come in." He hummed, slipping into the bedroom.

Steph sunk into the couch. It felt strange being half-naked, alone on the couch in his living room, listening to him shuffling things around in the bedroom. She checked the time; sun would be setting soon. She'd have to leave and go hunting, check in with B and Anthony.

"You're all good to come in now," he called.

A deep breath. Called back, "be right there." Slipped her bra off on the way over. Maybe it'd feel better if she owned her nudity.

He was seated on the bed when she got in, mouth falling open as she stepped through the door. There were candles lit on the dresser and the bedside table; already the room smelled like almonds and vanilla. "Wow~"

She laughed. Closed the door behind her, joining him on the bed. "It felt weird to be in just the bra. Do you think we could," she picked at his waistband.

A bark of a laugh, the bite of a lip. "Yeah. Fair is fair, I think." He nodded. Stood, stripped slowly for her. She followed the trail of hair on his stomach down; his heart stuttered at the scrutiny. Sat back next to her. "Maybe we start with kissing again?"

"I'd like that."

This time it was more heated, hungry. Steph traced hands over his chest, his waist. Heard his heart pounding, blood rushing, warmth just under the skin when she pulled away, traced lips over his jaw. He groaned, hand tightening on the back of her neck. She swallowed hard when he leaned his head back: an open invitation, a temptation he didn't understand.

Ducked to lavish his chest with attention instead. Fingertips traced down her spine; she shivered, moaning openly. Trailed a hand down his stomach, between his legs to be met with a gasp. "Fuck, Steph."

She stole another kiss. Guided a hand up to cup her breast as she stroked; felt him grow warmer, stiffer under the ministrations. His other hand found its way between her legs, thumb circling over her clit. Her knees went weak. "You," she panted, "said you had condoms?"

"Yeah," he swallowed. "You have a preference?"

"No preference." She kissed his cheek. "No allergies to that."

A nod. He moved her off his lap, grabbing one of the condoms he'd set out before. "Missionary?"

"Just come close to me." Steph beckoned, pulling them both to lie down. Helped to slip the condom on, kissing him hard again. He hooked one of her legs over his hip, and she groaned into his mouth when he pressed inside. Leaned her forehead into his, breathing deep as she settled into the feeling.

He kissed her cheek. "Let me know when you're ready."

"I'm ready," she promised, tucking a curl behind his ear. Moaned again when he started moving. Nestled close to him, one hand buried in his hair and the other feeling over his chest. His warm breath cascaded over her shoulder as he settled into a steady rhythm.

Before long the pleasure creeping in her chest made it hard to breathe. "Tom, I," she panted. Clutched him close, pressing him into her neck. Shook as everything spilled over into wave after wave of heat, of pulse, of tension and relaxation.

He groaned into her, rolled them over; thrust faster, deeper. Cried out when he came undone, trembling and nosing into her shoulder until she calmed enough to let him go. He laughed slightly. "Fuck, Steph." Pulled out. Discarded the condom.

She turned to tuck into his chest. His heartbeat reverberated in her head. Still moving hard, fast; always slightly faster whenever he inhaled, even as things slowly steadied. "That was so good."

"Yeah," he laughed. Kissed her cheek. Fixed her hair gently. "It was amazing." Another kiss, "you're amazing."

"You're amazing." She sighed. Closed her eyes to drink in this moment. Warm bodies, warm breath, soft skin; strong, steady heartbeat. A hand in her hair. A chin tucked against the top of her head.

Steph couldn't name the length of time that passed; maybe she'd been about to fall asleep again, but when he spoke it startled her. "You should probably go to the bathroom."

"Hm?" She blinked.

"You know," he cringed. Rubbed her back, "so you don't get a UTI?"

She laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Good call." Stretched away from him, shoulders popping. "And it's getting late, huh?" He glanced to the glowing face of an alarm clock, and she followed his eyes; yeah, the sun was definitely set now. "I should probably get home soon. Check in with my roommates, let them know I'm alive."

"Right, right." A slight frown, but a nod. "Probably a good idea. I'm sure they're freaking out."

Steph sat up. Hesitated at the edge of the bed. "I had a really nice time. This has all been," she shook her head. "The best. I haven't had a day like this-"

"In ages?"

She snickered. Grabbed one of the pillows and plopped it over his face. "In ages." He didn't even know. Couldn't even know. She shook her head. "I'm going to go clean up."

"I'll get your clothes together." He offered, pushing the pillow away as he sat up. Caught her hand before she stood, planting a soft kiss against her palm. "Do you think I could get your number?"

She should say no before anything got complicated. Be a one night stand, a passing hurt at worst, a wild story for him to tell the closest of his friends. Anything but a looming threat, a specter of the burden of knowing too much; what other end could this have? "Yeah. I'll find something to write it down on." She forced a smile, pulled her hand away. Left to the bathroom.

It was dark, but the heat from the day hadn't quite evaporated before she made her way home. "Steph!" Anthony called from her usual perch, clamoring down the fire escape to meet up with her at street level. "Hey! What-" she made a face, pulling back from the embrace she'd been going for. "Oh."

She cringed, certain of the lingering smell. "It's a long story."

"I'm sure it is." She shook herself out of it. "Let's get inside before B starts a manhunt."

B was pacing in the living room when they made it in, her cellphone clutched in both of their hands. "Steph! Oh my god!"

"Hey," she waved, shying back when they hurried over. "I hope you weren't too worried."

"You forgot your cellphone, and you didn't come back after hunting; of course we were worried, not that Anthony'll admit it," they made a face when they got close, stepping back. "You smell weird."

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Yeah, um. It's a long story, but I didn't get anything last night-"

"I'm pretty sure you got something," Anthony muttered behind her, barely containing a smirk.

"-so I'm actually gonna go shower, and then I have to go hunting again." She grinned placatingly, starting to step around towards the hall.

B scowled. Looked between her, and Anthony, and her cellphone. "Is that who the fuck Tom is?"

Steph nearly choked. "Have you been reading my texts?"

"You were missing!" They defended. "When your phone buzzed I thought maybe you were trying to get ahold of us! I know you don't know our numbers."

She shook her head. Stepped just close enough to snatch her phone out of their hands. "How did you even get into my phone?"

"Your pin is 1235! It's not as clever as you think."

Anthony snickered by the doorway. "Tom? Is that his name?"

"Oh, shut up," she frowned. Unlocked the phone to see it still open on the new text conversation.

<unknown number> Hey ;) <unknown number> It's Tom btw <unknown number> Text me when you get this, so I know you got back safe? <unknown number> *one photo attachment* (a selfie from his living room) <unknown number> In case you want a photo to use for me

"Alright, alright," Anthony relented. "You shower; I'll go hunting for you tonight, and when I get back we can talk about phone security and how we want to handle not having our cellphones on us going forwards, yeah? Sound good?"

Steph sighed. "Fine, alright." Glanced back at the phone as she made her way to her room to grab her towel. Paused inside, added him as a contact. Texted back.

<Steph> Hey, made it back alright.

Then, before she could turn back into the hall,

<Tom> Good! I'm glad <Tom> Think we can make plans to meet up again soon?

<Steph> I'll check my schedule

#story #the whole thing is so much longer if anyone sees this and is interested #I don't think I'll post all of it here but I can send the link to it privately #that said i think i'll probably post chapter 2 as well #nsft

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electromignion · 1 year ago

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Bridgewater fanart (again 🫶)

“I think I look like a pop star, Vipin. Or an odd bodyguard.”

“Nah! You look per-fect, Jeremy! Great summer look!”

It was supposed to be only a facial expression study as I was doing the face challenge (where people suggest you a character and an expression) so I could train myself but I got very much carried away as @stillwinchester prompted me “Vipin made him to take his glasses off, and try this one instead”

Jeremy being H5 and Vipin being G2!

When it comes to headcanon: to me they were just having some fun enjoying outdoors as besties, plus it’s Summer so weather is good and all to go out 🤌

I wanted to draw something “new” for Jeremy from his plain Oxford like light blue shirt and brown tweed jacket, so I wondered what he would have, and a short sleeved shirt with floral pattern seemed like a good idea, it’s very professor cliché-ish to me but I love it very much

I wanted to do funky sunglasses as it’s fun gotta admit, and as someone mentioned it to me on my latest fanart, the chromatic aberration made the aroace flag, so this time I wanted to incorporate it on purpose!

And to continue with the headcanons, Vipin has a pan bracelet!

+ I can totally imagine Jeremy being confused and Vipin being chaotic next to him trying to get Jeremy out of his comfort zone (gently of course because we love respectful besties who respect each other’s boundaries 👌)

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qprsmackdown · 1 year ago

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Etho and Skizz Propaganda

guy who never fully commits except as an almost half-joke but he'll stay by your side even when anyone else would've left by now, and a man who puts his entire no-sleeves skizzussy into everything he does. and they're gay

Listen if the fandom is allowed to say renchanting are in a qpr (a take I see a fair amount, still more comment for an actual romantic relationship), then these two more then count. They are fated to be friends. They have a fun dynamic. They've never not teamed up in the death games. They trust each other with their lives (and their deaths. Skizz asked Etho to execute him so Etho would be able to get closer to winning AND IT WORKED because Etho got 5th out of 14 players and on really low time!). I think they're cool. I am like one of 10ish people who aren't normal about them so I am putting this here. Also I think if Lizzie and Skizz took part in Double Life things would've switched and the parings would be Joel & Lizzie and Etho & Skizz And the AU I mentioned deserves it's own spot in the propaganda because I was allowed: In that au they they are canonically in a qpr. In that au (which is a httyd crossover because dragons) they are in a qpr and that's half the reason I want them in. Listen in the SoD AU they are in a funky little qpr because neither of them want the burden that calling it romantic would bring but it's more then friendship but because it's viking times they call each other their flock because the term qpr (or like. 99% of queer lables) weren't in existence at that point. They are dragon riders and they have cool dragons and they keep getting into dangerous situations and they literally parented a dragon for a bit. If anybody wants the fic I can link it because more people need to know of how powerful these two would be if they were allowed to call each other partners.

i used to ship them as romantic but actually they are SO qpr coded!!

this is for my friend indigo <3 (propaganda not mod cycad's thoughts, although i do share the sentiment)

#propaganda #etho and skizz propaganda #mod cycad

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jitters-art · 2 years ago

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Drop those team taka head cannons

omg i adore team taka altho i feel i don’t even have the most particularly interesting headcanons for them LOL a lot of them will be design headcanons bc thats what i normally think of as an artist hehee uhm.. i’ll start with suigetsu bc i love suigetsuuuuu

for suigetsu as shown in my drawing of him from today i like the thought of him dying the tips of his hair blue….. the way the anime shades his hair is far too cool to accept it’s shading and not act like those are dyed tips….

[ ID: two screenshots of suigetsu. END ID. ]

like cmonnnnn the blue tips are the coolest thing in the world. it is NOT shading TO ME ☝️☝️☝️☝️ also i didn’t draw this in my recent suigetsu bc i forgot when i was drawing it 😢😢 but i do imagine he has scabs on his lips and around his mouth often from accidentally biting his lip T.T sometimes i bite too hard and draw blood i can only imagine having sharp teeth and doing that T.T also he wears smudged eyeliner. uh this ones maybe kinda obvious but to me he doesn’t have much of a sense of boundaries and doesn’t have much shame in his body so T.T being his roommate would be a constant battle to make sure he walks around the apartment in *some* clothes. like by everything holy just *something*

this one is absolutely not based at all but it’s my brain and i can do to jūgo as i please with it ☝️☝️ and i like to imagine jūgo likes to wear accessories on his head a lot. like hair clips, hats, maybe he starts growing it out a bit more and ties parts of it up. it catches little birdies attentions more too which he enjoys and is a bonus other than it just being cute to me. to me he’s also the friend that carries around a big bag to hold everyones shit in when they get tired of carrying their own stuff. like yeah man just toss it in… it adds nothing i already have anything you could imagine in here anyways. y’know y’know. most of my jūgo headcanons are not based at all ajksjsjss i’m sorry but i also like to imagine he might pick up smth like woodworking/carving maybee knitting/crotchet (but i lean most towards wood carving) to keep himself distracted and occupied. less likely to have episodes and intrusive thoughts for him. obviously doesn’t stop everything but it helps the tiniest but plus it’s fun :) i think if he were to do carvings and stuff he’d give like a few to his friends if it was smth they specifically liked but i think he kinda likes and prefers to just leave them around, to either be lost to time or be found by someone else! i think he has lots of scars on his hands and knuckles— between the wood carving and his rampages i think his hands take quite the damage. and y’all know i like scars so i ignore any jutsu that may deter scar creation so to me he defo gets scars. except suigetsu’s jutsu actually.. i dont think suigetsu gets scars at all.

i like to imagine karin with a bunch of neat kind of earrings. anything fun/funky. also she has one industrial piercing too to me.. sasuke has two of them but karin had one before she knew sasuke did 😭😭 just a coincidence she swears she swearssss. this one would like.. technically be canon anyways in the first half but bc of all the bite marks she has n stuff her skin would be suuuper bumpy… i think she probably doesn’t like people touching her cause strangers/non team taka end up commenting on how gross it is T.T she prolly wears long sleeves as much as she can. which i rlly don’t know much about boruto but i think long sleeves in that one is canon too. i like to work with out of canon clothings so even then if i end up starting a karin fashion board it would have strictly long sleeve outfits in it. also i like to imagine her with some vocal tics. i dont imagine her with tourettes but just a small tic disorder. i think she mostly does like clicking sounds and hums… not any words or anything :) also i feel like her eyesight is just constantly getting worse and worse. i imagine she’s legally blind but still it gets worse. when she’s older like maybe her 50s or 60s she goes blind and just relies on only sensing ppls chakra to know who’s around w/o asking. i mean she heavily relies on that anyways even when she does have eyesight.. i like to just think she uses it a lot instead of straining her eyes when her prescription starts changing.

uhm and for sasuke some more team taka centred headcanons instead of just some hcs in general… i mean i’ll just state the obvious here because soooo many ppl tend to ignore this but. team taka are sasukes best friends…. not the rest of the konoha 12… so jot that one down. i feel like even when they branch off and do their own thing (again idk anything about boruto none of that is canon to me akshjshsjsjs so don’t be like “uhmm well actually 🤓🤓”) they like to keep in contact. even if not often they’ll send messages. i like to think if they’re aware they’re gonna end up being somewhere near-ish the others they’ll all go out of their way to pay a visit. uh also i DONT think this actually happened like it’s not a headcanon of mine but i do think the thought of suigetsu being sasukes first (very short term) bf is a funny thought…. it does not last tho cause anytime they’re tryna talk about sweet things and their thoughts sasuke just talks about naruto T.T again i dont actually headcanon that happening but it is a funny thought to me… uhm also i don’t particularly think there’s a moment in which this would end up happening but i do think that out of all of team taka sasuke trusts jūgo the most to just… have a personal conversation with. like he doesn’t go out of his way to ever talk about personal shit with him, but i think if a situation were to come up in which he had to/felt like he needed to i think jūgo would be the one he’d go to c:

most importantly no matter how much they do argue with each other team taka does all love eachother.. and they certainly stay friends for life. even if they don’t talk much i think they will all always consider them a group of friends that they can just send messages to without the thought of it being strange after it being so long. it doesn’t even have to be some kind of important message either. just a little random message whenever they think of it.

#hehehe thank you for asking c:#i’m not sure that me headcanons for them are particularly interesting but T.T #my*#i hope i didn’t disappoint hehe #ik a lot was design choice but its what i fantasized most about while watching so i could easily draw them how my brain imagines them #team taka #karin #hōzuki suigetsu #jūgo #uchiha sasuke #ask and i shall answer #anon asks

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licensedproldier · 3 months ago

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HI i was going to put this all in the tags bc i loved it so much but then tumblr stopped saving and i panicked because i wrote SO much and then started copying everything and then discovered tumblr logged me out??? so anyway i guess it's going on the post welcome to 1am sort-of art analysis i guess!

this is so cool. im not usually huge on class swaps but i AM huge on character design and holy shit op your body language is also TOP FUCKING TIER im eating this up. the colors only being on certain pieces of clothing says SO MUCH about how they progress.

obviously rogue fabian pulling his hood back and then a shorter cloak…..ough opening up. also him having his hand on his gun in freshman year but then the crossbow is visibly behind in in junior year....also his pants got baggier!! and he switched eyepatches oooooo. i also do love that he starts wearing the cloak looser around his shoulders and begins wearing other things under it! less regard for functionality more regard for comfort! same with growing his hair out <3

ALSO his junior year post mirroring his freshman year one!!!! each showing a different hand and a different side, meanwhile sy has both hands hidden maybe representing a lack of agency? assuming a similar arc of course. i also really enjoy the slight progression of his head tilt, from downwards to forwards to upwards. gaining some confidence. almost ends up with the fabian we know in fy by the time this one hits jy! also yellow is such a fun choice its such a cheerful color for a character that is not postured correspondingly at all in 2/3 of the illustrations.

PLUS THE CLOAK IS REAL BIG ON HIM SUDDENLY HAD THE THOUGHT THAT IT MIGHT BE HIS FATHERS. YOU SLY MF. OUGH. at first i was just going to point out the short sleeves change was fun but CMON. CMON. taking a part of your past that hurt you and making it your own....

adaine starting very simple and going from skirt to pants to what looks like ARMORED OR REINFORCED pants along with jacket. like gaining confidence in her abilities. also reinforced by fantastic expressions and poses. (fuck i lost my copy/paste here uhh) the slight upward angle insinuating that she always had what it takes and just had to discover it for herself.

ALSO the change from skirt to jacket moving the weight of her silhouette upwards resulting in a much bigger presence and more intimidating shape as she gains confidence and skills. the blue going through multiple different shades like she's trying to find herself. AND I BARELY NOTICED THE MASK but the disappearance of it by junior year.............ough. her hair gets messier and her clothing gets more intricate i love that she looks so much happier in her own thing. the transition from nervous and frantic to indifferent to slightly manic anticipation is truly so delightful.

OH plus the fact that her outfit doesnt actually change that much from sy to jy except for the addition of her own little things, its like finding a home and then finally making it yours, once you've found who you are. i like it a lot.

also a very subtle but fun change in belt buckle from rounded to uh. a funky slanted one. slay.

fig's transition through pink to red and also the CHANGE OF CAMERA ANGLE FROM DOWNWARDS TO UPWARDS OUGHHHHH. still that cute cheerleader girl in freshman year and going full punk by junior……. also guh. shes so pretty. if i was a little more allo id say hot but ohhhhh i love her

ALSO also bc i keep looking at it. sophomore year fig being the messiest one because of all the lines in her uh. shirt. fishnet shirt. idk im sorry man. and also the plaid(??? fuck me) skirt adding to the visual noise. the way it contrasts with the smoothness of her freshman year silhouette, arcs getting broken up by the fluff of the previously round pink apparel. symbolizing the period of her biggest and messiest transition. breaking down who you thought you were so you can become who you are now

and her silhouette gets smoother again in junior year with bold lines and solid colors!!!!!!! YEAH GIRL

also love the inverting of her knee brace (i think?) and her stockings going black to match her hair <3

kristen gives me such dorothy wizard of oz vibes here ngl, the shape of her shoelaces changing oooooooooooo... also always love it when someone gives kirsten the masc treatment it always feels like a very sweet instance of player bleed

but also sophomore year her with the ruffled edges on her clothing almost like literally peeling away?? POTENT imagery. AND the half-untucked dress/shirt revealing big shorts that were covered in freshman year….the ruffles and poof being very feminine contrasting to the way her hair is pulled back. she's in-between. i think best represented by how the dress is quite literally only half tucked. what a fun parallel to her doubt arc as a cleric.

also the purple first being out and obvious as her dress but pulled back and hidden as though in uncertainty during sophomore and THEN remanifested as a jacket in a form she seems most comfortable with. im sure there are no trans/gender discovery metaphors to be found in being a sorcerer no siree oh whats that its pete conlan with a s--

tiny detail of the little bows on her shorts in sophomore year that are i think loose and untied in junior year. i love that

ough…………..gorgug my boy hi………………..

op theres so much color things going on in here and i DO see your transfem headcanon which is based as hell. also the shape of his staff changing from what looks like an axe blade to…….maybe a person? but regardless to much rounder shapes

and HEY look at that another jacket off as revealing thy true self metaphor!!!! i like that….the shirt colors are a thread of consistency and at first its secondary to the jacket and then its primary but still existing in exception to the jacket and then it IS the jacket!!! not to mention the color expanding to her skirt!!!!

theres also something here about his collar getting wider and deeper. a splitting down the middle. idk op i think your metaphors rock even if theyre not intentional. something about the pensive feeling of the sophomore year design gets to me. the middle phase where it feels like something in you is demanding to be let out and might break you in the process.

secret: the thing is being trans and ALSO your crippling insecurity! yay

god riz looks so cute. he looks so cute. thats just a sweet little guy i would give him my lunch

im genuinely so curious what your riz bard thoughts are because you havent drawn him with an instrument which seems intentional!! and also because this cant be very different from our riz who has famously been a workaholic with problem solving as his primary expression of love. so its both very funny and fitting that the only tool i see him with is still the gun. bless.

but also his hair getting longer and more unkempt in sophomore year, his hand on the gun, everything screaming tension and also a bit of a mess. ALSO THAT JACKET IS SO SO BIG ON HIM WHOS IS IT. WHO. i love it so much.

also his ears are out in sy! which is a fun detail and i didnt actually realize they WERENT out in fy which now has me worried. OH THE OTHER JACKET IS ALSO BIG ON HIM. WHAT. op thats so mean. he keeps trying to be something and someone that doesn't fit him? the belief that he as just himself isn't enough and he has to be more like something or someone else? hurgh is that first jacket maybe also his dad's. ill lose it.

it makes his jy design very cathartic to see, honestly. you drew him with his shoulders up and hunted and so CLEARLY uncomfortable in both fy and sy that him simply with an ARM RAISED breaks the blob of a silhouette he's been in and gives him, like, freedom of movement again? plus his hairstyle being a mix of the first and second is very soft to me. not quite either and a something of both.

THERES PROBABLY MORE IF I LOOKED AT THEM FOR LONGER but its also getting late and ive written this out twice now so i will peace out!!!! love you op this is so cool i hope this brings you some joy in whatever time you see this <3

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

#fh #txt #fhjy #i dunno man. i went insane i love these designs so much.

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scattered-winter · 1 year ago

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YOUR OPINION ON. ahem. the following

why certain characters have powers and others specifically don’t in ur newsies superhero au of which i miss Dearly & Every Day

dresses yay or nay

comic con. what’s your go-to plan if u were to go to one

kyle rayner. and maaaybe explain him to me like i’ve only read two sentences of text from him previously

best musical/worst musical

comic icks asf

i would ask u a voltron question but man i rly… i actually know nothing besides red guy and blue guy and jeremy shada. anyway ily -@jack-kellys

OHOOO

uhh tbh for this one it was based purely on vibes. im sure there was a thought process there but that was the me from like a year ago and so i have no idea what that thought process was

HARD no unless i have somehow fucked with the dress to make it Wearable (To Me). i have a few that i've cut up a bit and i also wanna go thrifting to find some that i can play around with (dresses w combat boots + fishnet leggings ...... iconic look of all time)

i have never been to comic con BUT IF I DID. i would want to maybe diy a costume for a comic book character (idk WHO) or maybe do a funky au version of a character ?? like steampunk spiderman or something (i like mixing and matching and also messing around w outfits so it'd be a fun challenge methinks)

oh he's SO. he's a goofy goober he's become an all-powerful narrative-changing god twice he likes making constructs with big boobs because he's a nerd he's an artist he wears his heart on his sleeve he's theeeeeeeee guy ever

best musical is newsies (SHOCK AND AWE) and worst musical is probably hamilton. idk i like some of the songs (the chorus in wait for it............................oughhh) but personally getting through that musical the one time i watched it was like pulling teeth. 0/10 will never watch again

my biggest comic icks are when female characters are Romantic Accessories who get passed around their specific superhero group like a coin (which unfortunately happens so so so so so much i hate it here), and also when a specific pairing is written together so much that their personalities kinda get thrown out the window because theyre not individual characters anymore theyre A Couple, and also when writers very clearly obviously haven't even read the wiki page on the characters they're writing. and also when people who haven't even touched a single comic book in their entire lives write fanfic about the comics

ask me my opinion on random things!!

#RED AND BLUE AND JEREMY SHADA IM SCREAMINGGG #thats all u ever need to know about voltron actually. for ur own mental health <3 #anyway KISSA u <333333 #rizz #I DONT THINK I HAVE AN EMOJI FOR U ???? this is a crime what emoji do u want #also i want so so so badly to keep writing that superhero au but alas. i am but a slave to my hyperfixation brain </3

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quandaryqueen · 2 years ago

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Allrighty since u like them too, could we get some fluffy soulmate AUs for BTAS, YJ and Arkhamverse riddlers ?? 😌 (u can also add music meister to that bunch - idk anything abt him from the top of my head but seems like a funky lad)

If you could, maybe make the S/O a new and promising villain?? That's all. Do what u want! Have fun!

Chasing Romance

Edward Nygma X Villain Reader

More soulmate au's!

Music Meister's Soulmate au is written already, so I present you this fic of him.

💚 Young Justice

So in this realm, the first thing you say to your soulmate when you meet is tattooed on your body at your coming of age. Once you meet your soulmate, the tattoo fades and boom now you have your soulmate.

Silver thread I weave. Silver thread I tread. What am I? - is on your arm.

What's on Eddie's?

Fuck me!

Needless to say, Edward blushes at the prospect of his soulmate screaming that. He is a touch embarrassed and often hides his soulmate tattoo, though at least he knows he is fuckable for someone to scream that.

Though, he didn't expect it was this particular context wherein someone had finally exclaimed the phrase.

It was supposed to be your first heist, but some asshat decided to hijack your operation and opted to perform theatrics, effectively upstaging you. Cane twirling under the spotlight and all. Your eye was twitching whilst your hands shook beside you.

How dare this pompous asswipe topple over your months-worth of planning as if this were the only spot in Gotham?

"Silver thread I weave. Silver thread I tread. What am I?"

... It's your soulmate. Fucking hell this was your soulmate. And the answer was spider.

"OH FUCK ME!" You exclaimed after slamming your head against the bottom of your palm.

Edward was mutually distraught, dropping his cane in a panic as he frantically unbutton his cuff and roll his sleeves down. His arm was void of the phrase printed on it. In his shock, he doesn't hear you rant.

"I know I'm supposed to love you, that we're destined together or some shit, but what the hell man! I've been trying to cultivate my villain persona for months! Can't you just... Go to another bank? Jesus Christ."

💚 Batman the animated series

Switching bodies at a certain time and will only swap back once they meet each other.

Now imagine waking up with sore joints from sleeping on a desk, in the middle of the cold, stand to about 6 foot tall or so. On the aforementioned desk, where paper work is scattered about your soulmate's grand scheme...

Well what a coincidence, you also happen to be designing your plans for your upcoming debut as a rogue in Gotham! And Edward wakes up in your body. Oh he was absolutely curious about his soulmate and he took in all that he can see in your living space. There's your interests lying about, notes about them in your upcoming meeting. Oh he couldn't be more elated that you were planning to be a rogue! And he is more than willing to help you with your identity!

After curiously prodding with a new body, he sees your plans littered on your desk as well. In Edward 'The Riddler' Nygma fashion, finished those plans for you and decided to act upon it in chance of meeting you and getting his body back.

Why can't he just drive a car to his address? Well where's the fun in that?

So seeing your body act a different brand of uncharacteristical dramatics, you took to the scene of the crime in his body and it didn't take long for him to spot you in the crowd and finally meet you. With this, you return to your bodies and he helps you with your best first heists! Though it's borderline back seat driving, he was just excited to commit more crimes with you!

💚 Arkhamverse

A soulmate AU wherein you are marked and can feel your soulmate's injuries... It is not looking good for you.

Let's say you are mindful of your body, avoiding risks of injuring yourself to the point that stubbing your toe was a rare occurrence and you would take care of yourself for the sole purpose of making sure your soulmate doesn't feel a thing. Every accidents you have are immediately treated by you if it's minor enough, but you didn't want them to be inconvenienced with your doing.

Your soulmate, on the other hand...

Well let's see; He doesn't eat in time causing you to feel hunger, he barely sleeps and boy no amount of sleep can recover from the heavy bags under your eyes, small cuts and bruises would litter random locations on your body, mainly around the arms and legs... Then there were the worst ones like the feeling of being choked, punched/kicked in the face... Yeah.

As an upstart villain, you were getting into your very first meeting with other rogue's... And once you saw the Riddler up close with his habits and appearance, you knew.

The first thing you did was to pinch yourself on youe side, below your ribcage just to make sure it was him. It was him, he flinched and cursed his soulmate, oblivious that it was the rogue at his proximity giving him dagger eyes. Continuing to glare at him, you slam your knee on a table, catching others attention, including him where he finally puts two and two together.

"You...!" Oh he had to audacity to act as though you were majorly inconveniencing him with intentional injuries.

Not a good start for soulmates, but there were certainly changes that you were positive to reinforce. Eight hour sleep was one of them.

#edward nygma #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #edward nigma #request #young justice riddler #young justice riddler x reader #btas riddler #btas riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #bemymeal #soulmate

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sweet-dreams-internal-screams · 3 years ago

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Study Session HawkXFem!reader Part 5

Study buddies with benefits has never been more fun ;)

Warnings: swearing, oral(female receiving)oral (male receiving) weed (eventually anyways) and Violence (karate) P to V

NEVER doing a 5 part again istg for as long (or short tbh) I live

I also hate unrealistic smut will be cuz 5-7in is ENOUGH and Lube EXIST FOR A REASON GAH

Hawk took a shower when he got home. He was tired after his night at Y/N’s house. She wasn’t anything like he’d expected. He could still hear her moans in his head, they were intoxicating and he couldn’t help but crave her more.

After an hour or so he went into the garage and uncovered his bike which his mom decided she’d rather not see what she called his “terror on two wheels”. He started it up and opened the garage door and headed to Y/N’s house, trying not to speed. He knocked on her door and his eyes immediately started scanning her body, which caused Y/N to grin knowing that her plaid lounge shorts (which happened to show a bit more leg than her usual shorts). And tight black long sleeve shirt were doing the trick.

“Stare much?” She asked pretending like she couldn’t see the effect she was causing. “No idea what you’re talking about Y/N.” He said still eying her as he walked inside. “Positive? Cuz there’s a bit of drool right there.” She said wiping the corner of her mouth to show him.

Hawk whipped around and grabbed her waist looking down at her, causing Y/N to almost jump his bones. But she enjoyed the teasing. “Let’s finish your toga.” She said grabbing the sheet behind her on the couch Hawk groaned at her words. “Take off your clothes please.” She asked earning a scoff from Hawk who looked hurt. “I’ll have you know Y/N I’m much more than my body.” He stated pretending to wipe away a tear in pain. Y/N then scoffed telling Hawk to shut up. He shrugged off his sweatpants and sweatshirt, leaving him in his shorts and tank top he’d worn underneath.

Y/N took a few safety pins and pinned the fabric down. Occasionally looking at Hawk’s biceps which were very hard not to look at. Hawk caught her looking a few times and it fed his ego to know that she was checking him out. Y/N finished pinning and lifted the sheet over his head and tossed it into the project pile.

“Wanna go watch a movie?” Y/N asked, knowing that’s what she did not have in mind. Hawk nodded and followed her upstairs to her room.

After scrolling and arguing about what to turn on, they finally decided on a funky horror movie. As they both laid on Y/N’s bed. About eight minutes into the movie, Hawk looked over at Y/N who was pretending to watch the movie. He ran his hand gently against her thigh, making her lips curl up and causing her face to fluster.

“You’re so needy.” She giggled looking over at Hawk who was about to respond but was shut up by Y/N as she climbed onto his lap and planted a a kiss onto his lips making him grab her hips that were straddling him. Soft moans escaped his lips as Y/N roamed down to his neck, planting kisses on his neck, leaving a trail of love bites. He muttered some profanity as Y/N’s cold hands lifted his shirt over his head, reveling his chest. Hawk tilted his head back in bliss as she grazed his abs. He decided to level the playing field and lifted Y/N’s shirt over her head revealing her bra. He began to venture his hands up to her bra, after fumbling for a second he unhooked her bra and caressed her boobs i don’t like breast it’s so formal Y/N moaned softly and sank to her knees in front of him as he pulled his shorts and boxers down.

“Are y-you sure?” He asked, unsure if he was pressuring her in any way. Y/N nodded her head and pumped his dick I should say this now I will never use the word cock it’s too funny a few times. Hawk leaned back to give her more room as she took him in her mouth, his tip with her tongue, which was dripping with pre-cum. “Oh god Y/N.” He muttered looking down at her. It was intoxicating. Hawk could feel his release building up as he gripped her black bedsheets. Y/N swirled her tongue causing him to release. Y/N spit into a trash can near her and wiped the corners of her mouth.

“My turn.” Hawk said flipping her onto the bed and pulling down her shorts to reveal a wet spot forming. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he removed her under and grabbed ahold of her thighs, to keep her in place. He could hear her panting with need for him. He was on cloud nine as he grazed the marks he’d left the other night. He ventured up until he began licking gently before getting down into her completely. Y/N moaned in pleasure as Hawk continued, gripping his hair which he’d worn down for the “occasion” and this excited Y/N even more. As he hit her spot with his tongue. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and tears of enjoyment formed as she moaned loudly and muttering profanity. Hawk looked up and smiled hearing her pleasure just for him.

He rose up and kissed her again and momentarily stopping. “Do you have condoms?” He whispered knowing he’d brought his own, but he’d left in his shorts that were somewhere in the dark room. “Yeah one sec.” She whispered back fishing in her nightstand and grabbing them for Hawk, along with the lube and handing them to him. He thanked her and opened them up and positioned himself on top. “Whenever you’re ready darlin’.” He said in a country accent making Y/N laugh, relieving her nerves. She nodded and he gently sank into her, granted the lube helped as she gently winced feeling him inside her. When she relaxed a bit more it became more comfortable as he slowly started to thrust into her, letting out tiny grunts. Hawk began to pick up his pace slightly still not wanting to hurt Y/N. “You can go faster if you want.” She said in between panting, hawk nodded and sped up causing Y/N to let out a yelp.

Y/N held Hawks back tightly as she moaned in enchantment and Hawk bent down and kissed her neck. Hawk groaned feeling ecstatic. He bent down to rub Y/N’s clit making her scratch his back which he found so hot, but he wasn’t thinking about how to explain the scars to anyone who would ask, hoping his tattoo would hopefully cover them a bit.

Y/N let out a few loud moans, feeling closer to her climax “Oh Eli, oh fuck.” She groaned as it grew into a laugh. She’d felt so safe with him. This had done it for Hawk. Hearing his real name being moaned gave a him such a boost with a final thrust he released into the condom and rolled off Y/N. He ditched the used condom into the trash can. Still panting Y/N looked over. Sweat dripping from her forehead looking at Hawk who’s eyes were closed in deep thought. “I wanna have your babies.” Y/N said causing Eli’s eyes to pop open realizing he’d just had sex with a clingy nut. “W-w-hat?” He asked. Y/N let out a laugh “I’m just kidding oh you’re so easy.” She chortled. As Hawk let out a sigh of relief.

“Wanna go again?” She asked looking over at Hawk who smirked and nodded his head. Y/N handed him another condoms to wear and insisted on straddling the boy again and as she grabbed the lube bottle and squirted some out into her hand pumping him a few times before adjusting herself again to him. She began thrust upwards and Hawk grabbed a hold of her boobs, cradling them in his hands. “Fuck you’re so hot.” He praised her leading her to giggle at the praise. “Right back at you.” Y/N cooed in her most seductive voice. Y/N rode a few minutes longer causing Hawk to release again and tossing the condom. She collected herself off him and gently stumbled into her bathroom.

She peed remembering what her friends had told her about doing afterwards and grabbed a towel for Hawk and turned on the shower.

“Here’s a towel if you wanted a shower.” She said leaving it on her nightstand. He thanked her and waited for Y/N to finish and he made sure to check her out as she came back into her room and put a fresh pair of pajamas pants on.

Y/N walked downstairs to collect Hawk’s disregarded clothing and grabbing water and snacks to bring back upstairs settling back into her bed. Hawk walked back into her room with a towel around his waist V line poking out. He pulled on his clothes and hopped into the bed with Y/N unsure if cuddling was appropriate for fuck buddies. Y/N could sense this as she shifted so that he could put his arm around her. Y/N turned on her TV to a random show and opened up a bag of chips and offering them to Hawk.

“I think we’ll get a good grade on project.” Hawk said looking down at the girl

“What project?” She said looking back up.

A/N ooooooo never again guys this was a great experience but definitely not something I will be doing again but I hope you enjoyed!!!

#cobra kai imagine #cobra kai smut #eli hawk smut #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai #eli moskowitz #eli hawk moskowitz

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twstedstoryshop · 3 years ago

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Hello, congratulations for receiving 700+ followers! :D

I kind of wonder if that request is ok, since it isn't twst chara x reader whatsoever, but I'd like to ask for general headcanons(who they are and how they met each other) with Savanaclaw put into gaslamp fantasy AU(I imagine it as more of steampunk + high fantasy settings, because of my preference to Victorian aesthetic, but if you have more ideas with Edwardians, then go for it :) ).

This was a lot of fun to think about and imagine in my brain theater, hehe. -Shopkeep

Gaslamp Fantasy AU With The Savanaclaw Dorm

Of course still a prince in this universe, but continues down the path of a 2nd son that knows he won’t be in line for the throne anytime soon. But unlike our Leona who kind of just lazes about in NRC days, Leona in a gaslamp fantasy is busy scouring the skies in his airship.

While he may not be the next king, his family and brother expect him to still play a role in the royal family. While his brother takes care of official matters, Leona was given responsibilities as a protector of his kingdom’s people.

While Leona does indeed do his job, does he exactly do it right…? Not really. Think of it along the lines of, “Hey I’m a sky pirate to take down other sky pirates” “Leona, you can’t do that.” “Watch me.”

Also this just gives him an excuse to stay out of royal affairs and happily sail among the clouds. You can think of the Savanaclaw dorm being his rag-tag sky pirate crew.

I imagine unique magic is still a thing within this world. The properties of King’s Roar are still the same albeit rather than turning things into sand, he instantly causes his surroundings to turn to rust. This can be devastating especially within a world that relies heavily on metals for technology.

Though he puts up the front that he’s an uncaring, greedy pirate captain, we all know he cares. He could have easily gone down a path of abandoning his legacy and being a full fledged pirate but every treasure he eyed or adventure he craved, it always benefits his kingdom in some way. Whether people realize it or not.

Cheka is COMPLETELY enamored over the idea that his uncle is a cool sky pirate. He’s so intent on being a pirate too when he grows up and the family is trying desperately to not let him get too influenced by Leona.

Definitely has a get-up very similar to his Halloween outfit. Though he would have more of a ruffled shirt that’s still showing off a lot of his chest because… Yeah… Anyway, he may have to lose the eyepatch and nautical details, but I do like the hat. Just give him a bandana underneath it and bam, there’s our captain.

He may not be the proper definition of a king, but he’s a king among clouds and thieves and you know what? He likes that image a lot better than a prim and proper prince on a throne.

Oh you know Ruggie is gonna be our cute wise-cracking thief from the bustling city streets. He’s busy hustling through the crowds, pickpocketing snobby nobles and pulling fast ones on poor naive newcomers.

Knows a busy city like the back of his hand. Incredibly acrobatic and can shake any guard off his tail by doing some dynamic tricks. A slippery little guy!

I cannot get the image out of my head that his outfit would be so dang adorable. Like everything he wears looks too big for him. He wears overalls with so many patchwork pockets, chunky boots, his shirt has rolled up sleeves, fingerless gloves, and typical funky goggles around his neck. Also often dirtied with soot or oil.

I had this thought that besides finding coin or his next meal, Ruggie also often looked for scrap machinery and automatons that may have been thrown out. A part of Ruggie feels sympathy for the automatons that were thrown out entirely just because they happen to have one mistake in them or something.

He often fixes them up by himself and does some pretty amazing work, able to bring a machine back to full function. He often has these automatons work around in his makeshift workshop or he gifts them to any kids or families within the slums to make their lives easier.

Ruggie would never say this aloud but a part of him believes that the automatons he takes care of do indeed have consciousness and actually understand him. But he knows that’s a silly idea. What he doesn’t realize is that with this belief, he is tapping into his unique magic.

Laugh With Me manifests differently in that what should be an unfeeling and mundane automaton will listen to him and act on his command like a living being for a short amount of time before going back to their original state. He has yet to tap into this magic fully yet and will discover it over time.

Ruggie was picked up by Leona one day as Ruggie was bold enough to dare and pickpocket him. Though Leona was quicker, able to swiftly take back what was his. But he saw potential in Ruggie, seeing how quick witted he was and his talent in handling machinery. He always did need a shipwright…

With a promise for wealth and greatness, Leona offered an opportunity to Ruggie to come join him on his airship. It took a little convincing as Ruggie was reluctant to leave his family behind, but with enough convincing from his grandmother and the local kids, he boarded Leona’s ship and somehow naturally became the right-hand man of Leona.

The latest addition to Leona’s crew and a bit of an oddball compared to the grizzled and salty sky dogs. He definitely looks the part with his tall and strong stature, but his sense of duty and honor is quite a rarity among pirates of all people.

To some, this may be seen as a weakness, but to Leona, he values these kinds of qualities and why he wanted Jack on his crew.

Jack originally was a simple working man, hired as extra muscle for various heavy duty jobs like working around construction areas or factories. He worked these odd jobs to help bring food to the table for his family.

Sadly his family has fallen on some hard times as his parents are getting too old for work and his younger siblings are a bit too young to be working. Jack would rather see them get a proper education unlike him who got straight to work after basic schooling.

There was also… Another issue he was dealing with that made his life harder. A curse of lycanthropy, unfortunately given to him by a rogue werewolf that stumbled into the city and attacked him while he was making his way home from a late shift.

Jack hides this secret desperately and cages himself far away from his family every time the full moon rears its face.

It was during one of those nights that Leona and his crew found him. Leona had heard reports of some beast prowling in a city and a large reward was going to be given to anyone who could bring its head in to the city guards.

During that night, Leona witnessed that despite being such a feral beast that was half-man, half-wolf, Jack’s absolute instinct rather to protect than kill astounded the prince. He needed that kind of loyalty on his ship. The fact that he could turn into a powerful werewolf was a bonus.

At first Jack absolutely refused Leona, not wanting to take part in any piracy plus he had his ailment as a lycanthrope. However, Leona didn’t back down, showing that he didn’t care about Jack being a werewolf. He respected the man in the monster and promised that through their journeys, they may find a cure for him. Plus, sending his family money via the treasures didn’t sound like a bad offer either…

Jack gave in eventually, boarding the ship and making a place for himself as their newest member. He definitely has a lot of learning to do, but Jack would find in due time, he’ll fit right in.

Also, appearance wise, Jack would keep it rather simple but god, does he make it work. A loose shirt, tight fitting pants, a wrap and belts around his waist, and some solid boots. Please consider him also having facial and body hair…

#lovelygrimoire #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twst imagines #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl

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pagannightwitch · 3 years ago

Text

Sugarcoated

“Sugar, what in the devil are you doin’?” You and Whiskey get hurt on a mission. Maybe y'all can...kiss it all better. And like, fuck.

Okay so, had some Whiskey thots and have written and re-written this and I'm now tired of looking at it. No beta, so anything funky with this is all on me. Y'all let me know if there's anything glaring. Medical stuff is probably half-assed, it's all just a spark for the spunk, y'all. This is the first smut I've ever tried to properly write. If you like it, let me know about it!

Agent Jack "Whiskey" DanielsxF!reader

Rating: E. Hella E. That's E for explicit, y'all. Anyone under the age of 18 can skeedaddle, not just for my safety but for yours too.

✨✨Reader in this fic can visibly blush, and I was informed that not everyone can do that. I want everyone to feel welcome here! I just wanted my readers to be aware, and I want y'all to know I will be more mindful of this in the future.✨✨

If there's anything else I can improve on to make everyone comfortable, please feel free to send me a dm! 💗

Warnings: Mild injury, mild descriptions of medical stuff, a really hurty back, big man hands, vaginal fingering, oral: m and f receiving, squirting, penis in the vuhjeenus, creampie, (wrap it up irl y'all, for real) lil bit of overstimulation, reader has nipples pierced, fluff. Porn with porn. What the fuck is a plot? Lemme know if I've forgotten anything.

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You groaned as you rubbed your ribs and gingerly leaned into a stretch, yelping when your back made a disgustingly wet popping sound.

"Well, that could have gone better."

Whiskey rubbed his chin where a dark bruise was forming. The sleeve on his button up was mostly ripped off, and he had a big hole with a bloody spot in the leg of his jeans. Road rash, fairly mild considering.

"Well darlin', we made it out alive, mission accomplished. I say we did alright. No broken bones this time!"

You grumbled a stream of curses as you shuffled to the bathroom, gingerly stepping into a hot shower. You scrubbed yourself clean, wincing as you ran the loofa over your tender, achy bits, and let the hot water run over your stiff muscles. After drying off, you searched the usual place under the sink for the stashed away clothes. All generic stuff, sweatpants, statesman tee shirts, socks and underwear. All in varying sizes.

All clean and dressed, you stepped back out into the living area.

You smiled gently at the cowboy snoring in the big soft armchair of dubious age and origins. He’d laid his ridiculous hat over his face to block out what little light there was in the room. His belt was unbuckled and it lay open, you assumed so he could sit more comfortably.

Hating to wake him, but needing to help him clean out that nasty scrape down his leg, you sighed and knelt down to get a closer look, grunting as a pain split through your mid back. You breathe through the jolts skittering across your muscles while using your fingers to carefully move the torn denim to get a better assessment. You scrunched up your eyebrows in concentration, poked your tongue out a bit.

It helps to see better, you tell others when they tease you about it.

There were bits of glass and gravel in the wound, it’s not gonna be fun for either of you to clean out. Touching the bloody, swollen skin by accident, you froze and slammed your eyes shut when his leg jerked and he'd let out a startled yelp. There was silence for a few heartbeats, then you risked a peek at Jack with one eye. He’d tipped his hat back, and stared down groggily at the sight of you kneeling between his legs.

His mouth dropped open slightly, taking in your soft at-home appearance, your nipples outlined against the thin cotton of the tee shirt, feet bare and hair shower-damp. You regretted not just putting on your dirty bra for a half second, when you remembered it was covered in some poor sap’s blood. It was in the trash...you just weren't sure if you wanted Jack knowing your nipples were pierced.

You watched as his eyes drifted across your body, the air tense and thick.

“Sugar, what in the devil are you doin’?”

His voice was husky with sleep, making you feel some kinda way. Your heart fluttered as you tried to put on a neutral tone.

“I’m looking at your leg, dingbat. You decided to show off earlier, remember?”

He humphed, recalling the somewhat idiodic stunt.

“Yeah, I think I realized tonight that I ain’t twenty-two no more.”

You chuckled at him. You motioned at his leg in a silent, may I? He nodded. Reaching over to the nearest first aid box, you cracked it open to gather a few things. You rummaged around till you found the shears and some gloves. Pulling the sterile gloves over your fingers, wiggling them to situate the blue nitrile, and tearing the shears free from their plastic packaging, you turned back to Jack and started to carefully cut the leg of his pants in a long vertical line. As you made your way up his thigh, you stood and bent over him, your brows furrowed in concentration.

“Do you have to wear such tight pants, Whiskey? Jesus, I think I’ve clipped a bare patch of hair all the way up your leg, I’m so close to skin.”

You chanced a glance up and paused. Jack’s face was flushed, his pupils blown big, but with what you weren’t sure. He was just staring into middle space.

“Jack? You okay? Hey-”

You patted the inside of his thigh near where your hand was resting from cutting fabric. His eyes flitted up to yours, his pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He seemed to come back to reality, and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, yeah. I-I’m fine sugarbean. You do what you gotta, I’m a big boy.”

You huffed at his silly nickname, and continued to cut all the way up, pausing for a breath when you realized he wasn’t wearing underwear. Of course he wasn’t wearing underwear. Pants that tight? You should have known. You thought he may have mumbled a quiet sorry before you finished cutting the waistband, but it was almost whispered so as not to be able to tell if he'd spoken or just hissed in pain. You peeled the pant leg open, covering up his crotch with the long strip.

You tried to stifle the urge to touch the soft tummy you’d exposed. Taking in the light dusting of hair that trailed from his belly button down, down, down to the depths covered by his cut up jeans. His skin was beautifully tan all over. The implications of that made you blush. Not daring to look up at his face for fear he’d laugh, you continued your work without pause. You shouldn’t have been afraid at all, he was just watching with dark, curious eyes and a calm expression.

He could be crude, rude, and loud. He was the biggest yeehaw, flirt-with-everything-that-moved, overconfident man you’d ever met in your life. But most of it was for show. He really was just a quiet soul. His quiet soul saw yours, and his façade melted away in your presence.

The care you took in making sure you got every single bit of pebble and glass out of his leg, he couldn’t even feel the pain. He hadn’t noticed if you’d used numbing gel or not, he’d been too consumed by appreciating the skill you bore, how gently you were handling him. Your soft apologies, how you tenderly caressed his calf with your thumb when you’d pull out a particularly large piece.

About an hour into the whole thing, you’d wiped your brow and reached over for the cleaning solution and patches. You smeared the whole wound in the special gel they made in the lab at Statesman that sped healing time dramatically, and covered it all up with the waterproof patch.

Jack’s stomach did a flip when you looked up at him from between his knees, your eyes tired, shoulders slumped. He thought you were so damn gorgeous, even exhausted and bruised up, smears of his blood on your shirt. You’d have to change again, he thought idly.

“Jack, hey, you with me bud?”

He snapped back to reality, only to have your tits now at eye level. He shifted in his seat, praying his cock would behave.

It didn’t.

“Yeah, I am Darlin’. Look, I-”

You shot an arm out when he tried to stand up, shook your head and said,

“Whoa there cowboy, ease up. Let me help you, okay? I’m gonna brace my legs against the arms of the chair, hook my elbows under your armpits and help you lift. You need to stay off that leg for a couple of hours at least for the gel to do it's thing.”

Whiskey nodded, lifting his arms as you bent down. He got a split second eyeful of the swell of your tits hanging heavily in your shirt, and shook his head a little when he thought he caught a glimpse of something sparkly.

You leaned forward to rest your head on his shoulder, hooking your arms under him. He swallowed thickly and prayed his dick stayed put in the shredded blue jeans. You counted to three, and the both of you grunted on the upswing.

Pain shot through his bad leg and he swore loudly. Something in your back made that nasty popping again, and you cried out, crumpling in on yourself. Pain radiated hotly from your mid back. There was a bit of confusion and tripping on various limbs as the pain seemed to radiate up and down your back.

“Oh fuck, girl. Hey, hey, look at me. Can you sit up?”

You found yourself laying on the floor, curled up in a panting ball, sweat already beading on your forehead.

“Oh god, Whiskey. I don’t know what the fuck I did to my goddamn back, but it hurts so much.”

You were a tough bitch, but shit, this was agony. You could feel a muscle in your lower back rippling, and you groaned loudly. Your shirt was hiked up a bit from the fall and Jack could see the angry muscle in question.

He plopped down on his ass next to you and tried not to yelp as he did so. He murmured a quiet,

“Roll over sugarbear. Let ole Whiskey see.”

You cussed as you unfurled yourself, gingerly rolling over, whining during the entirely excruciating rotation. You felt the warmth of his big hands skating across your back, prodding here and there, gently pushing in a few places and asking if it hurt or what it felt like. He touched the spot, and you yelped again, tears burning in your eyes.

“Please, please, please…”

You were babbling in a hoarse whisper, not sure what you were begging for.

Jack shifted to be a little closer to your bottom. He reached over and just slowly, tenderly, began to run his thumb over the angry muscle in a rhythm, eventually building up to a hard kneading. You’d grabbed his good ankle to squeeze on, it was all you could do not to cry out, or slap him. He murmured something about your vertebra, instructed you to take a deep breath in, and a slow breath out. You did so, and he continued rubbing the sore place near your spine before moving his thumb over slightly, pushing on the bone hard.

Your back arched downward, running from the pressure. The sick, wet pop sound from earlier happened again, but so much louder this time. You felt like you couldn’t catch your breath for a moment, and when you did, a strangled sob found its way out. Jack’s big, warm paw slid up and down the planes of your back in a soothing motion. The heat felt nice, and your breathing eventually relaxed. The painful heat had subsided, and the twitching muscle was behaving again.

Jack looked down at you, admiring the view of your legs splayed out. Your pants had ridden up enough that he could see the outline of your underwear. Could swear he could see the shadow of your lips pressing against the seam of your joggers. You wiggled your hips experimentally to test your lower back. It was sore, but so much better than it had been. You sighed and let your face drop to the floor.

I guess I live here on the ground now, you mused to yourself. Jack’s mouth had gone dry. He could definitely see the outline of your pussy since you'd shifted. You arched and stretched like a cat before going limp again on the plush carpet.

“You…gonna sleep on the floor sugar? Mighty uncomfortable. Bad for your pissy back.”

You grinned, your cheek smooshed against the plush carpet.

“No, I’m just going to let my back settle a bit before I get up. Why? You enjoyin’ the view?”

The pain and exhaustion had made you a bit bold. You’d been dancing around each other for months, the sexual tension sky-fucking-high. From the sound of it, the granddaddy of all thunderstorms had finally blown in, as predicted. Y’all were stuck for the night.

It was quiet save for the rain for a heavily pregnant moment.

“Maybe," you could hear him scritching the light stubble on his chin, "Would it bother you if I was enjoyin’ the view, sugarpea?”

His voice was husky and low. You glanced back at him, your gaze meeting him as you slowly lifted your hips from the floor by a couple of inches, tilting your ass so he really could get a good look.

He reached over and petted your heat over your pants, gently pressing his big thumb into the dip. You heard it squelch a bit, having been wet since he’d woken up to you between his legs. At this point, you were pretty sure you’d had the same thought at that moment.

“Fuck, may I?”

“You certainly may.”

You felt cool air on your bottom as Jack slid your sweats down and off your legs. Your panties were white, almost sheer cotton. Underthings meant to be used a few times while on the run and tossed. You knew you’d soaked them, knew he could see your dripping mess through the now basically transparent fabric.

He hummed appreciatively while grasping and kneading your bottom, pressing your cheeks up and apart to watch the fabric bunch, then letting the thin cotton fall between your lips and the crease of your ass, cheeks now completely uncovered. You gasped when you felt the pressure on your clit, the strip of cotton and elastic a bit rough, but so good. The air was cold on your soaked lips, you felt Whiskey’s hand slowly drift down to where you’d wanted him the most.

He slipped a thick finger under the panties, and hummed in appreciation at how he glided over your warmth, dipping in just enough to be frustrating.

"Hmm. Baby, is all this for little ole me?”

You parted your legs further, till they were splayed out, letting out a quiet mhm. He hooked his finger under the damp fabric, and pulled it aside to get a good look at you. He groaned at how your sopping wet lips parted, strings of your slick bridging the short gap. You knew he could see you clenching around nothing. You hissed and dropped your head to your arm when he circled your clit with his thick, calloused thumb.

“C’mere beautiful. Is your back well enough off to let me partake?”

He slipped two thick fingers inside with no resistance, and achingly slowly he slid them back out. Trembling, you heard soft sucking sounds and the light smack of his lips. You muttered something incoherent and got on your hands and knees so fast you were pretty sure you’d burned your skin on the carpet.

When you’d sat up to move closer, you were shocked by how wrecked he already looked. Dark eyes completely black with lust, lips parted slightly in a wicked grin. He patted his lap, and beckoned you closer, then made a spinning motion with his forefinger. You crawled a little closer, faced away from him, and swung your leg over his lap. Lowering your head to rest on your forearm, you gave him a flirty little wiggle.

His big hands splayed over your ass, squeezing your hips, caressing the soft skin there. He shuffled down a little to lean against the armchair, head laying in the seat as he brought your pelvis down to his face. You gasped loudly when you felt his warm breath on you. Was he just staring? You shivered in anticipation, though not having to wait long for him to make a move.

He grasped your hips, tilting them slightly toward his face before licking a languid stripe from your clit, all the way up, up, up. His tongue darted into your depths, and you groaned his name. He made a choking sound in his throat as you flooded his tongue with more slick. He instinctively bucked his hips, brushing your cheek with his barely contained cock. Your head was practically in his lap already, his rock hard length threatening to jump out of his cut up jean leg.

You reached down, fumbling one handed on the scraps that used to be pants, baring his length. You let him rub himself between your clothed, dangling breasts. You let out a frustrated whine, it felt as if you were on fire, and there was too much fabric between you. You sat up, Whiskey growling at the momentary lost contact with your softness. Stripping the shirt off one arm at a time, you flung the offending garment, not caring where it landed. His lips met your plush, wet heat again and you both made noises of pleasure. He licked slow, deliberate stripes up, over and over again. You shuddered, you knew his whole face had to be wet, when did you ever get this wet?

“So good, so good little honeybee. Goddamn, you're so soaked.”

The sounds he was making back there were obscene, slurping, lapping, suckling, moaning, the noises helping to bring you closer and closer to the finish line. You thought about being embarrassed before realizing he was thoroughly enjoying himself with all the illicit sounds he was making. You felt his beautifully hooked nose drag through as he licked you, and had the sudden urge to just fucking grind. You had to stop yourself mid thrust so as not to suffocate the man. He must have realized what you were holding back from, surfacing for air he husked out,

“Use my face, let me drink you dry.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement. You let out a guttural moan as he hooked his arms around your thighs and pressed you down on his face, making you grind against his tongue, his nose, his chin. He caught your clit between his lips and suckled, not hard, but constant. Insistent. He let go of one of your thighs to reach under you, wrapping his cock in his hand. He pumped right up against your tits, and you batted his hand away.

"Hey, baby girl, let m-oh fucking christ, FUCK-"

He yelped when you hooked his knees with your arms and all but dragged him all the way to the floor before settling yourself over his face again.

He practically roared your actual name as you slid him all the way down your throat on the first go, making a little gurgling sound as he tapped the back. He roughly parted your pussy again, using two fingers to keep you open. He suckled on you frantically, dipping one finger, then two, then three into your gushing wet cunt.

“Fuck girl, so goddamn-so goddamn wet for me. Jesus chri-”

He was cut off by you humming around him, then dragging his length out till only the head was between your swollen lips. You swirled your tongue around his leaking tip, licking up any pre-cum that pearled out. He choked on whatever he was going to say. You moaned around him, trying to tell him you were close, trying to warn him. His fingers just continued pumping, brushing that delicious little spot-

But it was too late.

You shrieked, thighs shaking, back arching high, cock bobbing in your open mouth. You gasped and he grunted in surprise as you gushed. He didn’t stop thrusting his fingers in, though his pace stuttered, and you didn’t stop soaking him.

He caught you by surprise by growling into the slick heat of your pussy with his cock halfway down your throat, bucking twice more and spurting long, thick ropes. You swallowed as much as you could between gasps, and the frantic pump of his fingers continued.

You had the strange thought in the moment of your peak that maybe you'd end up drowning him. He may have thought the same thing, and he also may have thought he’d want that etched into his headstone. What a way to go.

He'd kept his fingers inside you through his own finish, just continuously pressing his fingers in and out, grazing against your spot at every dip in.

Your orgasm didn’t end. So long as he was fucking you with his fingers, the electricity continued bouncing around in your body. Did you scream? Were you crying? You weren’t sure anymore, but fucking god, whatever this is was utterly transcendent. His cock had slid from your throat, whatever cum and spit you hadn't been able to swallow was dribbling down your sweaty neck, painting you with him.

When had he rolled you on your back? You looked down to see his wet mop of hair peeking over the mound of your pussy. His slicked back style was utterly ruined, curls, actual curls peeking out above your hips. You shivered as they tickled your skin. He must have forgotten about his bum leg, he was eating you out now like you were his last supper.

The gushing wouldn’t fucking stop, and he didn’t want it to. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and used it to push him down harder on your cunt as you ground against him, babbling non-words and panting loudly. You were definitely getting into overstimulation territory, but by fuck, this was the craziest orgasm you'd ever had. His amber eyes glanced up at you, and you were utterly lost to everything.

Breasts glistening with his pre-cum, saliva, and sweat. Your nipples hard, your eyes screwed tightly shut and leaking tears. He’d love to just set up camp here to see how long he can make you cum for, how long it would take you to beg him to stop, to yank his head away from your glistening, puffy, wet pussy. He’d never, ever seen a woman have this long of a continuous orgasm, and he was damn proud of the fact that he’d made you fall apart so thoroughly. He idly noticed your nipple piercings, and hummed against your heat, rolling your clit around with his clever tongue.

“Please, please, pleasepleaseplease,” you babbled out loud. No idea to whom or for what though.

Whiskey stopped to breathe, slowly pumping four of his thick fingers in you. He was in absolute awe , you lay spread eagle before him, your lower half completely soaked with your own cum. He himself was wet up to both elbows, and from the crown of his head to his neck, and in patches down to his bellybutton in the front. He was not in any way upset about that fact. He'd like to see you squirt every goddamn day of his life if he could. It was a sight.

“Please what, sugarpie ?” He asked you very gently. You panted in reply, trying to string together a coherent thought.

“Fuck, pleeease.”

“Please what?” He gently repeated.

You scrunched up your brows, had you spoken? Couldn’t remember. Where were you?

“I don’t know.” You said simply. “That - hm - that still feels so good.”

Your eyes fell closed as the peak of your orgasm dropped dramatically from being a raging inferno in your bloodstream, to a quiet crackling flame. Comforting, gentle. Jack lay his head on your inner thigh, still slowly touching you, tracing his fingers through your slick, using it to trace patterns on your leg. Placing lazy kisses against your labia and thighs.

“Never seen a woman come like that before.” Jack whispered reverently.

You blushed hard. Not many men had made you squirt. You could make yourself do it if you were having alone time, but maybe one or two guys had ever gotten you there, and certainly not to that extent.

“I’m sorry.” You offered lamely.

The languid touching stopped. There was a long silence. Jack sat up and you saw the extent to how much you had actually wet him. You covered your face, and your knees slapped together. He tested his hurt leg, the gel had pretty much done its job. He was barely even sore anymore. He knelt over you, crawled up your body, leaving tickly kisses from your hip bone, up to each breast, up your neck, and finally to your lips.

His tongue slipped in your mouth, he tasted musky, salty, and a little like bourbon. Maybe a hint of cigarette too. Bucking your hips to press up against him, you could feel he was hard again already. He growled as he drug his length through your velvety softness.

“Will you let me fuck you? Please?”

You could not say no to those big puppy eyes. Instead of answering, your hand darted down to what was left of his jeans and yanked on a belt loop.

"Off."

"Yes ma'am."

Once he'd freed himself from what scraps he had left on, he reached between you and notched himself to your entrance. He slipped in so suddenly, that he gasped and swore loudly when you yelped.

“Jesus fucking christ, sorry baby girl. Didn't mean to just plough in there, you're just so goddamn wet."

He jerked his hips forward, snapping himself to the hilt. He grunted.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come again already if I'm not careful.”

You shuddered, the coil in your belly was still wound so tight. You were a multiple orgasm kind of gal, but were shocked you'd felt like another was rising after the earth shattering experience of the first one.

He took a deep, steadying breath, and began rocking in and out of you, the delicious drag of his heavy length was heaven. He shifted slightly to take weight off his bad leg, you broke your kiss to moan into the cup of his mouth, and he drank it up like it was the best wine.

He tilted again, and hit your spot at a languid pace. You’d begun to shake and curse, begging him please please again. He picked up his rhythm till your hips were slapping together, echoing through the little safe-house amidst your mingled moans and sighs.

“So polite, little bee. I still don’t know what you’re asking please fo-oh god-” He sucked in a breath, when you clenched around him. Reaching up, you tugged on the damp curls at the nape of his neck, and his pace stuttered.

“Where? You gotta tell me where, honey. I’m not gon-”

“Inside, inside goddamn it, don’t you fucking pull out. I wanna be leaking for days, cowboy. Pill. On - on pill -ohh shiiit-"

He grabbed your face a bit roughly, and growled into your mouth.

“You will be honeypie, I promise you that."

He punched his hips harder, spearing you over and over on his thick length. He lifted up to look down at you, caressing one of the tiny, sparkly ends poking out of your nipple. He pinched the tender bud very slightly, you shuddered and bucked, reaching up with both hands to grab fistfuls of his hair, sobbing his name.

"Shit, shit, shit-" he chanted. Every word punctuated by a hard slap of hips on ass.

"Woman, you'll be leaking my cum, mine-"

You squealed, your whole body feeling like a live wire, your breath hitching in your throat, back arching, your breasts pressing up against his chest. He could feel the scratch of your nipple bars against his skin, and reveled in it. He made a mental note to pay special attention to those later.

He clenched his teeth and began growling out his words, he could feel his balls clenching up, so close to his end.

"I-I want it dribbling down your thighs for a goddamn week. Oh shit, fuck, oh fuh-huuck-”

Your pussy slammed him into a vice grip, clenching so incredibly hard around him, sucking him in as he buried himself to the hilt. You distantly felt him pulsing, spurting his warmth deep, deep, deep, whispering your name like a prayer into your neck.

You rocked on him a little, riding out your high, feeling his warm cum leaking down your ass, getting the already soaked carpet even more soaked. You could care less about that.

You lay there just like that for a little while, Jack gingerly lowering himself down to kiss your lips in a light peck before nuzzling up in the crook of your neck, laying most of his weight on your body. Your fingers idly carded through his sweaty curls. His hair curled, curled. Could this man get any better looking? Goddamn.

“Well, so much for being professional, huh honeybun?”

You chuckled sleepily, eyes falling closed.

"Y'know, I learned something interesting from this experience."

He mumbled a tired mmm? From your neck.

“You have an awful lot of sugar nicknames up your sleeve.”

You could feel him grinning against you. “Can’t help it. You’ve always been so kind to me. Can’t help but call you something sweet, sugar.”

He licked your neck for emphasis.

“I knew you’d taste like dessert, I knew it," he mumbled against your sweat-damp skin.

You sighed against his shoulder as he began alternating between sucking a hickey on your throat and licking languid circles on the spot to soothe.

You were glad it was looking like the search committee wouldn't be there for a bit, the storm was utterly raging out.

You really didn't want to be rescued just yet.

#jack whiskey daniels #pedro pascal boys #whiskey fic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey #whiskey #kingsman the golden circle fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #my fic

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