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barry-j-blupjeans · 2 years ago

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11/14 with the twins?

11. Do I actually have to swear a blood pact for this?

There were many conversations one could have in the kitchen at half past two AM. Lots of heartful moments, a ton of weird, goofy, and maybe like, a smidge sexy times. Mostly, it's quiet words exchanged between the noise of a boiling teapot and the kitchen tap running as someone washed dishes. Mostly, there are no words, just company.

A few nights ago had not been that. A few nights ago, Taako tried to sleep for a total of five minutes before deciding that, actually, fuck this, and went to make himself some eggs. Lup didn't even move in her sleep as he hopped off the upper bunk and left the room. The kitchen light had already been turned on and Taako walked in on Magnus attempting to fix their microwave (it hadn't been broken).

Lots of conversations can happen at two AM. Taako was expecting a "hey" or a "what the fuck" or a momentary reenactment of that spiderman meme where two identical spiderman's pointed at each other. Instead, he cracked an egg open into a pan and was met with,

"Is it just me or has Lup been acting... strange?"

"Just you, homie," Taako had said.

"Ah," Magnus had said. That would have been a neat place to end the conversation, but instead, he continued with, "because like, we were hanging out and having fun and stuff, and then Barry came back from- from wherever the fuck he went with Lucretia-"

"Library."

"Right, the library. And then Lup was like. Not... Lup-like. Y'know?"

"I do not, in fact, know," Taako said.

And then he spent the next thirty minutes, diving a little too deep into what Magnus had noticed about Lup's body language (Taako never wanted to hear an analysis of how he and his sister interacted with people again. But he supposed being stuck on a spaceship with six other people tends to put you through the mortifying act of being known much more than you would like.) and her word choice and all of that and all Taako really got from it was "Magnus is a fucking creep who likes to watch us like a fucked up science experiment".

But now that it had been pointed out? Yeah. Yeah. Lup was acting weird. She would stop halfway through a conversation if Barry came into the room. And she seemed to go out of her way to avoid interacting with him directly. One day, they had been making dinner, and Lup straight up left the kitchen when Barry came in for something. Either they had somehow had a fight without anyone noticing or Lup had caught a bad case of Feelings. And Taako was pretty sure he'd know if Lup had gotten Feelings for Barry, so it had to have been a fight.

So, like any good brother, that also meant Taako was now Against Barry. Did he know what the fight was about? No. Did he care? Maybe a little bit. Barry had seemed chill but now Taako wasn't sure. Like, they were nineteen years into this and that might seem like a lot for some people (cough cough, Magnus), but that wasn't even a tenth of Taako and Lup's lifespan before the mission. Yeah, sure, he liked them well enough, but he was ride or die with Lup. But hopefully the dying wouldn't happen too much.

It was two weeks after his conversation with Magnus in the kitchen when Lup approached him. Or rather, Taako walked into their room and Lup immediately said,

"What the hell has your problem been with Barry lately?"

Taako paused. He shut the door. And then he turned back to Lup, squinting at her.

"What's been your problem with Barry lately?" Taako asked, because he wasn't going to rise to whatever bait this was.

"What's my prob- I'm not the one avoiding him!" Lup said. "You're making him feel weird!"

"I'm avoiding him because you're avoiding him, doofus," Taako said, calmly, like an adult. He sat on his bunk (the bottom one this week, as scheduled) and crossed his legs. Lup was sitting on top of the desk that was shoved into the corner, holding a notepad in her hands.

"I- what?" Lup said. "Since when was I avoiding Barry?"

"Since like, two weeks ago," Taako said. "Three weeks?" How long has Magnus said again? "Three weeks now."

"I have not-"

"You leave the room whenever he's there," Taako said, holding up a finger to start counting. "You talk weirdly to him. You've stopped looking at him-"

"'Cause he's weird," Lup said.

"Yeah, but he's been weird for the last twenty years, bud!" Taako said. "He's not gotten any weirder this cycle! The only thing I've seen him do is fuck with the robot parts and we're all doing that. I don't know what kind of fight you had but obviously, if you don't wanna be around Barry anymore, then we're not gonna hang around Barry anymore. The world can end as many times as it wants but we're still gotta be a team about things, dumbass. It's bond science, or whatever the fuck."

"What fight have I had with Barry?" Lup asked, looking genuinely confused now. "Did he- did he say I had a fight with him?"

"He-" Taako paused. Closed his mouth. "...No. But your avoiding him, so like, cha'boy assumed-"

"Babe, I didn't have a fight with Barry," Lup said with a little nervous laugh. "I just- y'know. He's weird."

"Again, Barold has been weird for much longer than we've known him," Taako said. "So if you're not avoiding him for it, then there's really no other- oh, shit."

"Taako," Lup said warningly.

"Oh, shit," Taako said. He slammed his hands down on the bed. "You caught Feeling for Barry!"

"Shh!!" Lup said, gesturing for him to be quieter.

"You've got romantic feelings towards Barold J. Bluejeans," Taako said. "D'you hear those words I just said? Do you know how fucking ridiculous that sounds? Like, what the fuck would that couple name even be-"

"Taako," Lup groaned, sinking into a heap on the desk.

"Barup," Taako said. "Larry."

"Taako."

"Blupjeans."

"Taako!" Lup was now sliding off the desk, her head in her hands. "Shut the fuck up!"

"I think this is the best day of my life," Taako said. "You've got feelings for the guy who keeps getting his fingers burned by the toaster."

"It's a hard toaster to navigate-" Lup started.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Taako said, absolutely delighted. "Lup, be honest, are you avoiding him because you've forgotten how to talk to him like a normal person? Does talking to the guy who dresses in the same stupid outfit every day make you embarrassed?"

"I hate your fucking guts," Lup said. "You can't tell anyone- I'm gonna make you take a blood pact-"

"Lup, I rolled a nineteen, you gotta tell me," Taako said, climbing off the bed to sit next to her on the floor. "It's important. What the hell about that man is attractive to you? I mean, the ass, obviously-"

"Gods, the ass," Lup sighed. "In those jeans."

"Lup," Taako begged, on the brink of laughter. "You gotta be goofing me. You gotta be."

"But you've seen the ass," Lup said, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did. "Like, you've seen the ass-"

"Too many times," Taako said. "I want my eyes removed from my skull."

"Yeah," Lup said dreamily. Taako was going to lord this over her for years. A crush on Barry Bluejeans, good gods. She's had space madness. Taako was going to ride this serotonin into cycle twenty.

"...Do I actually have to take a blood pact for this, though?" Taako asked. "Like, I'm not gonna tell everyone-" Just Magnus, to prove him wrong that they hadn't been fighting, thank you very much. And Davenport, for like, mission safety. And Lucretia, so she could accurately write their interaction down. And maybe Merle, too, actually-

Maybe Magnus had been right about this body language stuff. Taako had got to get more dets from him later.

#taako #lup #magnus burnsides #blupjeans #somewhere in there #taz #taz balance #mine #asks #anon #ise cube writing #:D

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mini-kairyu · 1 year ago

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WHOA LOOK IT'S

My ocs! I finally got around to compiling general info about the main ones I have (there are a LOT of others but they're more like named side character/NPCs that get introduced as the story I have for these guys goes on)

Lemme list off the five I have most developed rn, which form the team .wav(E) (pronounced "dot wave"):

Cora

Bold, brash, but quite cute (her words)

A bit of a firecracker

Her curiosity is as vast as her energy and wit

Has the cutest smile

Left the underground since the Inkantation and had spent a significant time adjusting to the surface culture (long before meeting her buddy Luke)

Has a secret passion for dancing, especially pop and hip-hop (very sharp sense of rhythm)

Lives and dies by Slosher. Until she has to pick up a secondary main in Squeezer too. And Tri-slosher. And Wiper.

Does gardening on the side. There are little succulents dotted around her apartment, about 8 in total

Cooks the most often out of the team, specializes in pan-fried dishes and stews

Likes hot tea (prefers herbal over fruit teas tho)

Had a fruit tea drink one time (it was a peach tea) and didn't like it at all. Had a sourness that detracted from the warmth that she normally likes from drinking hot tea, so she avoids them now

Cass

Captain of the team

Full name 'Cassidy', people usually alternate calling her between the two

Most connections to everything

Level-headed, abundant charisma (puts the rizz in charisma haHA), rarely phased by anything

A big sister of sorts to Cora. Cora took to Cass really well when she recruited her and her friend Luke after random queuing in Salmon Run and the like

Flexes anything, but will mostly stick to Blasters. Has been interested in both Tri-Stringer and Reef-lux as of late tho

Works part time at a boba store (the one where the team gathers together fully for the first time)

The boba shop's name is called Roomba Boba, which has little Squee-G bots that roam around and sometimes deliver drinks or carry napkin holders. Naturally, they're also really good at mopping up spills

Has also had many odd jobs in the past, including being a camp counselor at Camp Triggerfish and [CLASSIFIED]

She's really good with kids, always gave me those peppy young adult/senior-in-high-school vibes that always know how to hype up a crowd

Cooks just as well as Cora, but feels more in tune with baking than cooking. She comes over to her apartment to help make meals sometimes.

Tobias

Neighbor and teammate of Cora, whom he develops a firm kinship with since their first encounter at the first team meetup

Also goes by 'Tobes' or 'Tobo'

Looks reserved, but is very easy and sociable to talk with

Did stakeout in the military, and thus has the worst sleep schedule of the team out of habit

Loves tea as well, especially herbal tea. Has a dislike for coffee though.

Favors backliners as per his role on the team, but is also killer with Octobrush and Stamper

Works part-time at Ammo Knights (weapons maintenance)

Gives the best hugs

Enjoys meticulous work such as mechanical tinkering and Gundam building

Likes to take off his glasses when he's eating or needs to decompress

Luke

Cora's Turf and Salmon Run buddy prior to forming .wav(E) with Cass

Favors Brellas

The least composed of the team, screams a lot when jumped in battle

Overall, is one the that gets meme'd on the most lmao

Favorite candy is pop rocks. This information revolts Cora and Tobes.

Likes learning and making mixed drinks in his free time

Incidentally, is the heaviest drinker of the bunch

Microwave dinner degenerate lol

Loves Clam Blitz so much, he'll even play it on his own (pain and misery)

Rooms with a bunch of other rando inklings who aren't home often

Wears nail polish the most often out of all the members (the others like to as well, but not always since they get lazy sometimes)

Hira

Joins very late to the group (about halfway through the gang's Splatoon 3 arc), but signifies a meaningful development for most of the peeps

A reflection of "sweaty try-hards" who complain and tilt over their teammates (Me that was me, for a while....a dark time....)

Sweaty dualies main, is proficient with most dualies

Has a swear and an insult for every time something goes wrong in a match, especially when random queuing

Incidentally, has the biggest potty mouth out of everyone

Has a soft spot for strawberry milk (it calms her down)

Will sit down with a book or even a manga from time to time

Is actually very down to earth outside of league battling and has an overall calm and kind personality, albeit a bit cynical at times

About her encounter with .wav(E): Cass finds her at Roomba Boba one day (the boba shop she works at) and notices her being super down

So she sits with her and listens to her problem. It was a rather personal rmoment for her.

Hira's time in .wav(E) will be crucial to her improvement as a player mentally, not just mechanically, especially considering what happened with her last team

Much of her personal growth is inspired by the time she spends bonding with Cora, who also ends up being positively influenced in various ways

Rumors among the Octarians tell of a battalion that had fallen tragically in a battle with outside factions prior to the Inkantation Inkcident; nearly all members wiped out due to poor negligence and ill preparation. The few that were skilled enough to survive the ordeal moved on to serve and be decorated with honors among their newer ilk. Their festering resentment towards incompetence and inefficiency remained even after liberation, however.

#splatoon ocs #.wav(E)#splatoon #one day I'll have good art of them #until then it's nothin but picrew frames lol #i have so many facts and lore about them by this point #they've been cookin for 5 years now wow #i have more development lore for all these characters that i can share later once I have more time showcasing these characters in my fanfic #yes i have one #not i haven't finished the next chapter #i had to revamp a lot of things now so I jave to pivot from where I left off

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champagnebutch · 2 years ago

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It’s early March in the late 2010s, and I am in the back half of my freshman year of high school. I’m chatting with a friend on discord, a real life friend, I know them from school, but we’re chatting online cos he’s two years older than me and, as a junior, is currently visiting colleges in and around NYC.

We’re chatting. It’s banal shit, really. He asks if I’m watching the Oscars, I say no but I might later, he says I should watch cos they started at 5pm and it’s already 5:30.

A little later they ask me a question

“does [mutual friend] ever tell you what’s going on with them? like mentally and stuff? (its a yes or no question im not asking about [them])”

I say no, not especially. Why?

Instead of responding directly, he asks another question.

“you ever get the urge to tell someone a secret of yours? but you dont know how they’ll react or if they’ll even wanna know your name after you tell them?”

I ask if they want to share something with me. And they do.

They share a lot.

They share their childhood trauma. How poor their mental health has been since elementary school. The lows that it hit in middle school. They share the mental disorder they’ve told maybe a handful of people about. Their whole life story, really. I’m the second person who’s heard everything start to finish.

I say “i swear to fuck, were money not an issue, id be packing my bags and hopping on a flight right now, you need a hug”

They concur, but say they feel the love through the screen.

I ask if they want to share more.

They do. He asks how it makes me feel.

“really, really fuckin worried for you.

im not leaving you,

not for long time”

They are reassured, at least somewhat.

He asks if I’ll be there for support when he goes in for top surgery after the end of the school year.

I say yes, honored.

A week passes. He’s been back several days now, but we haven’t seen each other at school as much as we’d like. We agree to hang out at mine on Saturday, and he’ll probably stay for dinner. I imagine we’ll play some games, show each other some funny videos, which we do.

We insist on a closed door for privacy. We share some shitposts on my computer. He sits in my lap while we watch. I don’t object. Occasionally I push him off and halfway jump out of my seat when a family member asks me for something.

He asks me why.

I ask myself why.

That night I don’t really come to terms with my sexuality, but I do realize my sexuality has terms with which I must come to.

However, despite not really knowing how I’d describe my orientation, I know I’m into them, and they’re into me. That night, after having crawled under the kitchen table after dinner with them and discussing my sexuality crisis, we get together. That day will be our anniversary date.

Not long later, we are publicly a couple. I find it important to mention that we are fucking adorable. Basically the entire student body at school thinks we’re cute. The teachers think we’re cute. The school director thinks we’re cute.

We go to a very weird private high school, in an idiosyncratic part of the country, and the place was tiny. Such an environment means we can do shit like have an all-school camping trip at the beginning and end of every year. On the bus ride back from that end of year camping trip, my history teacher makes sure that the two of us can sit together for the otherwise boring hours-long trip.

After that end of year trip, I make good on my promise and am there for my boyfriend when he gets top surgery.

I come out to him as transfem around then. He's the first person I tell.

That summer I spend a lot of time at their house, a place in the hills that’s way too big and that they move out of later. They're happy with this decision because of the memories that lived there with them, in those high ceilings and tall stairs.

We watch something on Netflix. It is, I assume, not especially gripping, seeing as I no longer remember what it was. He acts somewhat odd and slightly frustrating, and I don't really know what to do. But I figure it’s nothing and he'll be fine soon.

He has a breakdown not much later. He’s sorry for being mean. He’s worried I’ll leave him, that he’s fucked everything up. He doesn’t want me to go.

“Babe, I’m here.

I’m not going anywhere,

not for a long time”

I make good on that promise, too. Maybe I make too good on it.

We're together for a while. But he eventually goes up to Canada for university, and I'm still a high school junior, stuck down here in the states. He tries to break up with me, but neither of us really have any other better form of connection; his new friends are still new, and I am still generally bad at making friends at all.

We're on and off for a while. Eventually we're off for the last time.

New feelings came up. He wanted space. They set a boundary. I failed to abide it.

I was there when I wasn't wanted.

He breaks up with me for the last time.

Eventually we get the chance to talk about what happened. He forgives me, somehow. They offer me a smoke, and I take the only drag off the only cigarette I’ve had in my life.

I’m single for several months. Retail work is soul-draining, but it’s an income, and it helps distract when the self-loathing kicks in.

Eventually someone new starts working at the store. She’s really pretty, and sweet, and lovely, and best of all she makes my feelings of worthlessness dissolve. It takes a while before I really understand how I feel about her.

We spend our lunches together whenever we can. We add each other on Discord. We chat. Fairly banal stuff. I talk about my brother and I loving languages, and him being in Taiwan for work. They talk about being polyamorous, and how they and their nesting partner recently hosted one of their metamours.

Eventually they leave the store job, it was just too much for them on top of their other, more important work. Once they cease being my co-worker, they ask to hang out.

We do.

We go on a walk by the lake. I discover later that I walk altogether too fast for them, but they don’t mind that much.

We agree to spend more time together, but it takes two weeks for our schedules to work out again. It’s during that time I realize how I feel about her. It’s a long two weeks.

That hang-out turns into our first date, a picnic. That day, the exact same date as my prior relationship, will be our anniversary date.

I visit her place. I meet her nesting partner, my metamour, who lends me a bass guitar after hearing that I’d been interested in learning.

I show my girlfriend Critical Role, she gets me back into Magic: the Gathering.

We go to Trans March that June.

We support each other through the little hiccups that life throws at you.

I cry in their arms as I recount to them what happened with my ex. They share that they made a similar mistake once, and I feel so much less alone.

I console them as they deal with medical issues the following winter.

We celebrate our one year anniversary by being bourgeoise for a day, getting afternoon tea in the city.

We talk about the political climate, how it feels less and less safe for us every day. I offer, without claiming them monogamously, that if they wanted, I would be happy to marry them, if they thought marrying a Canadian/French citizen and fleeing was a worthwhile plan.

They are deeply appreciative, comforted by the thought of getting to run away with me “Of course babes

I’m not going anywhere,

not for a long time”

Then, the unexpected occurs. Her nesting partner breaks up with her. It happens right after I leave her place one week, and I only hear about it two days later.

Two nights later, we talk. I hope to reassure her as she tries to process, as she recovers from having everything fall down around her.

I tell her how much I want to hug her, to hold her close, to do what I can to make everything feel better.

“Babe, I’m here

I’m not going anywhere

Not for a long time

I promise”

“But she said exactly the same thing”

My heart slowly sinks into the ocean in my chest, as my mouth tries desperately to find the right words, bring it back to the surface.

But there is nothing to say. The words mean nothing. I hopelessly search for better ones, but it’s no use.

Thankfully, things do get better.

I’m able to visit within the week, and my presence seems stronger than just my voice over the phone. My actions get to speak louder than my words.

I’m able to hold her.

I can bring some food while she tries to cut back on expenses, as she looks for more work and new housing.

I get to bring her out of the survival mindset she slips into so easily, and help her remember that creature comforts are necessary for optimal functioning.

While I’m not there, it’s hard for them. But when I’m with them, they get to be their old self again.

They get offers for support from a friend, and from another partner.

I feel so sure that we will work everything out.

It’s all difficult still, the future is still uncertain.

But I know one thing.

I’m not leaving her

I’m not going anywhere

Not for a long, long time.

#i love you #personal #my writing #lgbtqplus #lgbtq #lgbt #nonfiction #sapphic #trans #transmasc #transfem #t4t #queer

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politicsusa · 5 days ago

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Fearful of LGBTQ Backlash? Let CenterLink Help You Find Your People!

LGBTQ community centers can help you find and create support even in the worst of times. I should know.

LGBTQ community centers collectively serve over 58,700 people each week, or over 3 million people per year. Further, they refer nearly 14,800 individuals per week, or about 770,000 people per year, to other agencies or providers, such as LGBTQ-friendly medical providers, lawyers, or businesses.

Are you scared today? Lots of queer people are, especially transgender people. As an older cisgender gay man, I'm scared. I live in a very rural, very conservative part of the United States, just a quick hop from a town where taxpayers voted to eliminate their public library rather than let it shelve queer-positive books like Heartstopper. You should have seen the newspaper editorials! Since the election, anti-queer sentiment has become louder, and I feel even more like a stranger in a strange land.

But after a phone call the other day with CenterLink, I reached out to a local group, and I might already have found community I didn't know existed. I bet you can too.

At 62 years old, I've been here before, so let me tell you a story about how wonderful queer community centers can be!

I'll never forget the day in 1990 when the LGBT Community Center in New York City radically improved my life. Imagine a painfully shy young man in his late twenties, disoriented and scared after being forced out of a career in the U.S. Air Force. I'd failed a routine security-clearance polygraph. Told the FBI examiners I wasn't gay. Their machine called me a liar. So did they. To my face.

I had money saved, and I decided I could no longer tolerate feeling ashamed just to be me. So, one day in West Berlin, eyes squeezed shut in fear, I flipped a coin to decide between moving to San Francisco or Manhattan.

Months later, my savings were evaporating even though I was staying at NYC's inexpensive McBurney YMCA, the one that inspired the Village People.

Bars and clubs intimidated me. Young, hip queer people did too. What to do? How to make friends? How to become part of the dream I'd come chasing from halfway around the world?

By some fluke of fate, I took to bringing lunch every day to the outdoor garden at the LGBT Community Center on 13th Street in Greenwich Village. I'd sit on a bench, scouring help-wanted ads, peeking over the New York Times at people I didn't dare reach out to.

One day, one of them walked up, pretended to knock on my newspaper, pulled it down, and said, "I knew you'd be much cuter if you smiled!"

He told me his name was Lenny, and he introduced me to most of the garden crew. That night, he took me to see experimental performance art at La MaMa ETC. We fell in love! Soon, we started celebrating that day as our official anniversary.

When Lenny passed ten years later, our friends packed a big room near the garden where some of them had witnessed our newspaper moment. I cried and laughed my way through a eulogy, comforted by the support and love of the tightest community I've ever known.

Our friends were gay men and lesbians, some of them my colleagues from Queer Nation and Act Up — some of them youthful social workers from the HIV/AIDS service agency where I worked.

#lgbtq #equality #politics #mental-health #community #news

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bloggerspam · 14 days ago

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"Sam's going to kill us."

Val mutters, dragging Danny with a firm grip to his arm. He's not eating nearly enough if his arm is this skinny. Val's going to have to call Jazz about it.

"Sam won't kill us,." Danny soothes, letting her plop him into the seat of his own damn motorcycle. Hers is still 'out of commission' so she hops on behind him.

"I'm sorry, are we talking about the same Sam Manson?" Val snarks, putting on her helmet and feeling jittery as Danny slowly puts on his.

The microphones flicker to life, just as Danny revs up the bike. "We're on vacation, it's not like we're on a schedule and it's not our fault your college administration is literally the pits."

They have 15 minutes to get to the Thai place to grab dinner, and 10 minutes to get back to the hotel before they're irrevocably late. The talk with her professor, and subsequently the talk with the woman at the Bursar's office, ran longer than either of them expected it to. But it's all sorted now, her scholarship is in tact, and apparently she even has a monthly stipend, which will make things much easier on her and her dad.

"Just floor it Fenton!" Val growls, and she can feel his eyes rolling as he digs in.

"You asked for it!" Danny cackles, and does as he's bid.

They make good time on the Thai food, but of course (as all things go with Danny) Fenton Luck strikes again.

They're about halfway back to the hotel, when they get, of all things, pulled over for speeding.

"How did you not see the police car?" Val grouses, texting Sam and Tucker and trying to make sure her hands are visible. You never know.

When Danny doesn't answer her, she leans a little to see what's going on. He's looking through what looks like a small compartment on the side of the bike near the handlebars, frozen like he's just discovered something devastating.

"What's going on?" Val hisses, jabbing Danny in the side and jolting him to look at her. It's hard to tell through the dark visor, but she recognizes the way his body scrunches up. Something's wrong.

"So. Uh." Danny starts, curling his shoulders in and of all things, touching his index fingers together delicately like some kind of sheepish cartoon character, "Remember how I only just finished this bike last month?"

Val freezes. "Danny. Danny don't tell me you didn't—"

A cough to their left has both of them whipping their heads around. The officer who pulled them over, presumably, waits bemusedly with his arms crossed and hip popped like he thinks they're funny. He's tall, lithe but definitely packin' some muscle with dark blue eyes and black hair that reminds her of Danny. Gotham sure has a lot of people of the same coloring—even her boss shares it, though his eyes are more teal-in shade.

"License and registration, please." The officer chirps, looking both apologetic and stern at the same time. She's only ever seen Jazz pull that look off, and honestly she'd be more relaxed at the sight if Danny hadn't forgotten to register his god damn motorcycle. Considering the bike is tricked out to all hell, runs on ghost tech and thoroughly looks as illegal as it apparently is, she'd be surprised if they weren't arrested.

"Uh. So. Here's the thing Officer…" Val face palms as Danny fumbles his way through a shoddy explanation of his own incompetence. Dumbest smart guy she'll ever know, she fuckin' swears—him and Tucker!

She sighs. Sam's definitely going to kill them. At least the bloodshed will have to wait until after she bails them out.

Small mercies.

===

"Tucker, hurry up." Sam hisses, which, easy for her to say. She's not the one with asthma and a propensity to sit at home and do nothing but play games for weekend long marathons.

"I'm trying Sam, I don't even know what you even need me for, you know how to hot wire a motorcycle!" Tucker grunts as he crawls painfully over the crest of the fence. The points of it jab into his kidney, maybe even his gall bladder. Does he even need those things? Is he gonna die? He'll have to ask Danny.

"I haven't read Danny's manual on the new bike yet, dingus." Sam growls, but thankfully catches him when he successfully rolls over to the other side. His hero, really. Danny can take a back seat.

Tucker had hacked the impound's records earlier that day, so they head immediately towards the correct lot.

Except when they get there, they're not the only ones.

If Tucker isn't mistaken—and he rarely ever is—that is Jason Todd and Stephanie Brown, the current crushes Danny and Val are harboring, and they are just as if not more surprised to see Sam and Tucker.

Jason is currently crouched beside the bike, examining the side console meant for diagnosis and looking utterly lost. Stephanie—Steph, he recalls Val saying she introduced herself as—looks like she's breaking into the wheel lock.

Well shit. Can you do the Spiderman meme if none of you look alike?

The four of them stand there frozen, staring at each other and gaping stupidly and each no doubt wondering what the fuck is happening right now.

Sam, of course, is the first to recover. "Jason Todd. Stephanie Brown." She crosses her arms, pops her hip and raises an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?"

Steph recovers second. "What are you, a cop?"

The sheer offense that Sam adopts over her face would make Tucker laugh, if they weren't standing in the middle of an impound lot trying to steal an illegal ecto-bike at close to 10pm.

"What she means," Tucker opens his arms wide, holding Sam back with one and gesturing towards the bike with the other, "Is if you're not careful, that thing could blow up—literally—in your faces."

Sam huffs, making a sort of well? gesture.

"Oh." Jason carefully stands up from his crouch, snagging Steph by the back of her shirt and pulling them away just slightly, "We just—ahem, wanted to help."

"Help your employee?" Sam challenges, before smirking, "Or trying to impress the boy you like?"

Steph coughs, covering a laugh, freezing when Sam turns her wicked eyes on her, "Or perhaps you were cajoled into it," Sam squints, "Stephanie Brown, right? You seem quite fond of Val, what with all the invitations to spar."

"Not that Val ever realizes," Tucker laughs, "Ignore Sam over here—Tucker, by the way, nice to meetcha, heard a lot about ya'll—She just likes giving her friends' love interests a good once over, y'know?""

Steph and Jason share a look, before looking away with decidedly redder faces. Jason splotchy on the bridge of his nose, Steph burning her neck. Even in the dark, Tucker can see it, hard not to when you're the only one with melanin in the group.

"Listen," Tucker decides to be merciful, "We—I love whatever is goin' on here, big fan of when people love on my friends, real refreshing actually—"

Sam huffs, elbowing him, so he coughs and tries again. "The point is, whilst the thought is nice, I wasn't joking when i said it would literally blow up in your faces."

Sam rolls her eyes as his dramatics, but doesn't disagree. "It runs off highly sensitive and reactive fluids, kept securely in a blast proof container. But if you happened to open it, accidentally or otherwise fiddling with the controls…"

Tuck mimes a little kabloom!

"What?" Steph stumbles back, though all Jason does is eye the bike in a new light. Hm. Interesting. That's certainly a Red Hood expression if Tucker ever did see one. Judging by the way Sam squints at the other man, she thinks so too.

"How did you even know Danny's bike was taken to the impound anyway?" Sam is really doing this whole shovel talk thing at 110% huh. Not that Tuck blames her, with Danny's history of people fucking him over. "Are you tracking him?"

That gets Tucker's hackles up immediately. He knew that Oracle was snooping around Amity Park files, but as far as he knew, she hadn't gotten far. The Fentons are a fairly visible family, what with their patents and unhinged nature of advertising their inventions, but Danny and Jazz are actually pretty invisible on the internet.

They, unlike their parents, took internet safety very seriously.

To be more precise, Jazz did, and Danny learned from her, so.

Plus, Tucker's no slouch at protecting his friends from the perils of the interweb. Especially since he and Technus like to futz around with firewalls every second Saturday of the month.

You don't take down an entire Government Organization's network together and just stop hanging out. It's just not done.

"No!" Jason and Steph yell in sync, whipping their heads towards each other after a moment, "At least, I'm not—"

Before it can devolve into what looks like a sibling fight, Sam stomps her foot down. Childishly, Tucker might add, if he didn't value his life. (Which he does, so he keeps his mouth shut.)

"How." Sam growls. They shut up immediately, going shifty.

Jason, brave man that he is, mumbles something under his breath. Steph, a much more braver woman, shuts her eyes and throws Jason under the proverbial bus in a rush of panicked words.

"His brother is the cop that arrested them!" Her voice echoes in the darkness of the impound lot. Jason slaps his hands against his face, groaning and quietly hissing at Steph about inside voices, dumbass.

Tucker can't help it. Once the words register, all he can do is laugh and laugh and laugh.

Sam sighs, pushing Jason out of the way and shoving Tucker, who is struggling to breathe, towards the bike to unlock it. "I need a drink."

"Y-you," Tucker's hands are steady and quick, even through his laughter, "doN't ev-e-n drink!"

"Ice cream then." Sam grumbles. "Why are Danny's love interests always so troublesome?"

"You tell m-me," There's a click, Tucker's laughter just barely dying down as he stands up and allows Jason to start rolling the bike off the lot, "You were one of-of them!"

Jason stiffens, but Sam pats him on the shoulder, hard. "When we were 14 and our only other choice was you, Tuck."

"Hey! That's hurtful, first of all," Tucker feels indignant, "And second of all, you could have been an A-lister from the start if you wanted to. Third of all, Danny had choices! Dash and Wes were right there."

They manage to get out of the impound lot easily enough, and with Steph and Jason's lead they start heading towards the city proper.

"You mean his bully and stalker?" Sam challenges, crossing her arms as they stop by what Tucker assumes to be either Jason or Steph's car.

Jason stiffens up again, grip going white on Danny's handlebars, though he relaxes at Tucker's next statement.

"You and I both know Danny would have brought them to heel." Tucker counters, "Besides, the point was that Danny had options. He just never noticed."

Sam thinks on that, before nodding. "True."

Jason huffs a small laugh, looking charmed beyond belief. "He that oblivious?"

"Sam had to sit him down and tell him she wanted to be boyfriend and girlfriend before he even realized Sam liked him." Tucker shakes his head, grinning, "Still didn't believe her until she planted one on him."

"Better than Val," Sam chuckles, facing Steph, "She's a bad bitch when it comes to men but suddenly a pretty lady talks to her and she's all that's just how girls are, Sam! How am I supposed to tell when they're flirting, Sam! Girls are smarter and if they liked me like that it would be OBVIOUS Sam!"

Steph giggles, hand coming up to stifle it, and her eyes gain a new gleam to her eye. Oh good, so Steph does like Val back. Nice.

"So how was this gonna go?" Tucker says after a moment of silence. "You get the bike, then what?"

Jason and Steph share a look, before Jason's nose gets all red again. "I was gonna wait outside for him, have Dick pull some strings to bail them out and uh, surprise Danny with the bike."

Sam and Tucker look at Steph, who shrugs. "He and Val got locked up together so…I thought Val would appreciate not having to third wheel." She pats the hood of the car, "Was gonna offer her a ride home, after Jason did his thing."

Sam and Tucker perk up then, turning back to Jason. "You gonna ask him on a date??"

"I mean, he's not here for long, right? Just for Christmas?" Jason twitches, like he wants to shove his hands in his pockets, but can't because he's holding up Danny's bike. His shoulders hike up and he pops the bike stand. "I wanted to at least get his number. Get to know him better."

There's a moment of silence, before Tucker and Sam place a hand on each of Jason's shoulders, excitement palpable. "GODS, are we glad you're a bad bitch who gets what he wants. Val was right about you!"

"Uh," Jason's eyes are wide, surprised as if he wasn't expecting that, "Thanks?" He coughs, the red of his nose traveling to his cheeks and staining his ears.

Sam and Tuck let go, though Sam gives him a hearty pat on the back to go with the motion.

"I was gonna bail them out in the morning, let 'em sit in their shame for a bit." Sam turns towards Steph, "You guys know any good ice cream shops open this late in the mean time?"

Steph grins, "Information like that's gonna cost ya." She's clearly joking though, considering she immediately pulls out her phone to bring up some ice cream shops on GPS.

"Will embarrassing stories about Danny and Val cover it?" Tucker cheekily asks.

"Sold, to the man in the beret." Jason deadpans, smirking as he points at Tucker.

It's the start of a beautiful friendship.

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes.

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself.

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly?

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition.

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy.

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies.

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance.

All in All? It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all.

It's the little things.

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snapscube · 2 years ago

Note

is it too late to get into FFXIV and join the community? I see all the other pro gamers play it (such as yourself), and I kinda feel left out.

I mean, all I know about final fantasy is VII and V, and I’ve played neither of em. like I feel if I rocked up now a la “eeey ain’t that sephiroth guy funny?” and the lvl 800s or whatever would be like “begone mongrel”

what do you reckon?

Not too late in the slightest. The entire game is structured to support the new player experience. Even endgame players spend a large amount of time doing content from earlier expansions, even (especially, actually) the base game, so there's always someone to play with. They're also updating the game over time with features to support playing through the main storyline, the biggest draw of the game, completely single player, and at the moment they are well over halfway done with those updates I believe and should have completed the restructure before the release of the next expansion. So if you literally just wanna hop in and do the story, you have your pick whether to do it with people or by yourself. Optional content is gonna be group based, though. But even then, new players generally get a lot of consideration and if people can see you are new, they will understand and be patient in helping you through the content. Just gotta be open to that help, and be open to being social. That's it. Just log in and have fun, don't worry about status or history.

Also, the story is completely self contained btw, just in case that's a concern and you're not familiar with how Final Fantasy works. It's "Final Fantasy 14" but it's not the 14th chapter in a long story, it's just its own thing. So once you start the game, you're on the exact same contextual playing field as every other newcomer, you don't need to prepare at all beforehand. Just go for it!

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igotanidea · 2 years ago

Text

The Raven's daughter: Morpheusx Matthew's daughter pt 2

prevously: part 1

Part 2

Since The Dream Lord never explicitly forbid Matthew from visiting his daughter, the Raven was using every opportunity to do so. This time he surprised the girl on Friday morning taping on her window on the early morning.

-Hey dad, perfect timing, you know. If you keep doing this I might throw my alarm clock away – Kay opens the window, not quite awake yet with her hair being a mess and her eyes not accustomed to the light.

-Don’t fool me. You don’t have an alarm clock. You use your phone for that. I just really hope you changed the sound, it was always annoying me – the Raven hops inside referring to his daughter’s high school time when she was listening to some electronic music

-It was a brief phase! – she protest emphasizing the word “brief”, even now, being almost 30 still a bit embarrassed about that – And yes, I did change it. But you would not like my alternative rock either.

-You know, this is one of the very rare moments where I’m glad to be a bird. I can always fly away from the music I don’t like – Matthew spats jokingly.

-Just wait here for a minute, ok? I need to remind my eyes their purpose is to actually helps me see. I don’t think they’re awoken just yet – she lets her father into tiny kitchen and leaves him crouching (?) on the counter.

A couple minutes later, she prepares breakfast. Unbothered by Matthew’s disapproval she just pour some cold milk into the bowl and fill it with cereals.

-Kay! – the raven caws – how many times do I have to tell you? The cereals goes first, then you add milk.

-Oh, yeah, I forgot – she grins – guess it’s too late now.

If anyone from the outside ever watched this two, one would think father and daughter to be childlike individuals fighting over every simple thing. The truth however, was that they had a lot of inside jokes and deeply cared about each other. Matthew, as the father was somewhat better at showing that explicitly. Kay was more prone to use sarcasm and irony to cover her sensitive part and avoid being hurt. There were only a couple of people who saw through that. The rest? Simply wasn’t worth it. Knowing his daughter well enough, Matthew decided it would be best to entertain Kay with the continuation of the story he started last time when he visited.

- …. and then, after we received boss’ pouch of sand we went to Hell…

- Hell? Like literal Hell or are you being metaphorical right now?

Mere mention of the Dream Lord and her father going to Hell made Kayleen stop her spoon halfway between the bowl and her open with astonishment mouth. Neither the girl nor the bird notices her hand shaking slightly causing some of the cereal to drop down and splashing the milk all over Matthew and Kay’s pajama.

-Hey, watch it, Kayleen – Matthew ruffles his feathers a bit annoyed

-Sorry, dad - she reaches for the towel trying to dry her father which is funny enough if you have a specific sense of humor.

-Never mind. I meant literal Hell. You know, souls of the damned, demons and Lucifer. By the way did you know that the ruler of underground is actually a woman? Pretty intimidating one, may I add.

-Obviously. That’s a common knowledge. I am basically on a first- name basis with Lucifer – she shrugs casually – But sarcasm aside, I’m not a bit surprised it takes a woman to keep a bunch of demons in check. The person who said we are the weak sex must have definitely been a man – she grins and Matthew can’t help being proud of how powerful and resilient his daughter grew up to be. Considering the fact she was raised without a mother who left the family when Kay was little – I can’t believe I’m really asking this, but how was it? In Hell? Do they really make the damned wash in the ladle of tar?

-What? No. Quite the opposite actually.

-Meaning?

-They make you bring your own fire to hell.

-What? Really? So the costs of maintenance is high there too, I suppose? I mean, my rent has been killing me lately. And speaking of rent, I would love to continue this conversation later but for the time being I got to get to work. You know, I’m still a human and I have to earn to pay the bills. Otherwise I might be forced to go to Hell as well. Hmm – she mutters – that even rhymes.

-Sorry, Kay, I guess I forgot about that. I just missed you and can’t get enough of you.

-I know. It’s ok. I missed you too – the girl gently taps the bird’s head – can you visit me later? In the evening? I finish my classes at 4 p.m. That is – if you have some kind of time tracking in the …. – she hesitates trying to remember the name of Morpheus’ realm … - Dreaming – she snaps her finger in sudden realization.

-We don’t and I’m not entirely sure if boss wouldn’t need me later on. He relies on me heavily, you know.

-I bet. You must be very important to him. The only one loyal enough to follow him through the gates of damnation – she laughs lightly and it’s contagious making Matthew “laugh” too.

-Well, he’s not exactly the first one to admit it.

-Yeah, from what I saw when he appeared here he can be quite moody and distant. Drama queen much?

-He is. And you don’t even know one percent of it. Anyway, I will do my best to meet you after work. I know you like a good story.

-Being an English and writing lecturer requires a little bit of imagination and creativity so any prompt can be useful.

-And I’ll be glad to provide you with that. So, we see each other later. – the Raven states, gently tapping Kayleen’s hand with his wing and fly out the open window.

-This is crazy – Kayleen says to herself – this is batshit crazy – shaking her head but still with a smile on her face she quickly dresses up, picks up her bag and leave the flat. Thankfully, she lives close to the University so there is no risk of being late.

***

As she crosses the street she spots one of the new teacher. The historian. She didn’t really have the opportunity of meeting and greeting him properly but she met an ear that his name was quite unusual. Hob? Maybe that was some sort of abbreviation? From Robert perhaps? Anyway, rumor has it, that this new guy was a walking encyclopedia of fun facts so she already had an idea of how to get him involved in her classes covering some literature classics. Like Shakespeare for example. But that was an idea for the future since the topic for today was frankly the ancient roots of modern arts. How the current writers and artist derive from what was created from the past.

The girl quickly enters the auditorium humming with content. Once again all of her students showed up. Not that she wanted to brag, but her classes was always the most-attended one and that made her proud. The possibility to help shaping and inspiring young minds was always appealing to her so she was practically leaving her own Dream.

-Good morning everyone - she greets the student getting some in return – I’m so happy to see you all. Today’s topic might be particularly interesting to you since we are going to be mixing a little bit of past with a little bit of present.

-So you’re not going to bore us with the history of some old classic dudes who died a hundred years ago, professor? – one of the boys in the front row ask.

-Oh, I was actually planning on making you learn the whole history of Plato by heart – she jokes and the atmosphere loosen up – But seriously, did I ever? - Kay smiles at him as the boy shakes his head grinning. That was another specifics of her classes. She never stopped students from freely expressing their minds. This was a free-hate, open – minded space where she allowed even the sacrum to be torn apart and build up again. Most often with the surprising and exciting results. – Ok, I know you come from different schools and therefore your experience with teachers may vary, but once again I got to remind you of the first rule here. Do you remember it? – the students nod their heads – Amber? Would you like to say it out loud? – Kay point to the redhead girl .

-Don’t be afraid to use constructive criticism.

-Precisely. So… - Kay launches the presentation she prepared for today – ancient Greece and Rome. The cradle of humanity. The basis of culture, art and stories. Do you agree? Or do you think something else?

-In my opinion Greece and Rome are overrated.

-Ok. Care to elaborate, Dylan?

-I mean, in all of the history books there are so many pages about the Greek philosophy, the Roman law, their mythology and inventions. I do not question the fact that there were great accomplishments like aqueducts, but at the same time I feel like other cultures are not being given enough credit.

-Any particular in your mind?

-Yes. Egyptians. And maybe Scandinavian. I mean, Zeus is the same as Ra or Odin, right?

-I can’t really agree with that – another student chimes in.

-Speak your mind then, Abby. What’s your opinion?

-Dylan still keeps on naming the big cultures. But what about the ones that really are forgotten in history books? Personally I’m quite interested in Andean cultures but there are no information of them anywhere.

-I think both of you have some right. The point is that the cultures inspired one another. None of them actually functioned in isolation. And what Dylan said about Zeus, Ra and Odin being the same is true. As well as the fact that they may have derived from the civilizations we don’t even know existed. It all transpires. So tell me, does any of you believe we can use some of ancient in today’s work? Give some modern vibe to stories from the past and give them new meaning? Yes, Skye?

-I… I actually started a story based on one of the myths.

-Great. Would you like to share it with the class? – Kay encourages her, aware that Skye is one of the shy students –come on, safe space, remember?

-Well…. It’s modern approach on the story of the god of Dreams? – Sky has this manner of speaking when she’s using the questing intonation. – Morpheus

Are you kidding me? – Kayleen thinks to herself. Why does my world start revolving around the Dream Lord all of a sudden. First, my dad being his Raven, then he himself showing up and now this.

-Really? – she asks not showing any sign of her real train of thought.

-Yes. I was thinking of starting the story from the sleeplessness disease that we had to deal with some time ago. I was like five when it ended but the newspapers were writing a lot about it so there’s a lot of material to go through. And the opposite of insomnia – the story of the sleeping beauty, you know professor. Unity Kinkaid.

-Yes, yes, I know what you mean. I was actually born during this time so I had the opportunity to briefly experience that. If you like I could give you a hand with writing – Kay smiles .

-That would be amazing, professor. Thank you.

-Don’t mention it. So – would anyone else like to share an idea of their own? Or maybe add something to Skye’s?

When the class ends Kayleen’s thoughts go back to the time of the dreamer’s disease. She clearly remember one particular person, Roderick Burgess and his son Alex, who claimed they had a Devil locked up the basement of their manor. Only that it was not the devil. Her father already told her some part of the story, mentioning that it was in fact the Dream who they held in captivity. For a century. No wonder he was acting the way he was. A hundred years completely alone would drive anyone insane. And when he broke free the whole craziness of retreating his tools and talking birds started. Matthew was only halfway through the story but Kay was smart enough to connect the dots given.

Getting lost in her own thoughts of Morpheus’ locked-up time and having her half-an-hour lunch break she didn’t notice her eyelids growing heavy, slowly drifting off to a nap on her own desk. What she also didn’t know is that she was on a way to a very different domain. The one she only ever heard off. The one ruled by some particularly broody dark-haired man. When she opens her eyes the girl is dumbfounded as her surroundings doesn’t even remotely resemble her home city, London. She’s standing in the middle of meadow, so peaceful and quiet that it actually seems a bit eerie to her. The colors, the scents and the sounds seem twice as vibrant as anywhere else she has ever been. There’s also not a single soul anywhere. As she turns around she spots a path leading to an enormous lake with water so clear that you can see right through it and a suspension bridge above it. Kayeen is amused by the fact that it’s shaped in the form of giant hands holding the arch and leading the way straight to the gates of the palace made from white and gold marble with stained glass windows, and sculptures. Despite the fact that there are quite a lot of ornaments everything seems classy and thoughtful.

-Amazing – she whispers to herself looking away only when she hears the sound of flapping wings. – Wait, is that a Gargoyle?! - Once again, the girls gasps in admiration. For a moment all of her thoughts but the delight gone. Just for a moment though, as she quickly regain herself.

-Where the heck am I? – she wonders frowning.

Part 3 coming soon :)

Edit: part 3 is up here

taglist (is open) @marvelsmylife @wickedly-grim @thereeallink

@lisacarolined @boofy1998 @endlessdreamqueen @mikariell95

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years ago

Text

Smoke & Whiskey

Character/Fandom: Elvis + B.B. King - Elvis (2022)

Requested: yes - multiple nonnies

Prompt: You just came to get away from it all and do some dancing with your best friends, Elvis and B.B. You figure you're safe with them and are looking forward to relaxing. Little do you know what the boys have planned for you. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: this is a threesome and PWP so...beware there's a lot going on lmfao

Rating: M || Word Count: 6514

A/N: HAPPY THIRSTY THURSDAY BABES!!! it's finally HERE! this was a joy to write 🥴 the alternative title was "Let It All Hang Out" but i just couldn't bring myself to seriously name it that jsfksjsj

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You just came to get away from it all. You wanted to dance, to relax, let loose, and not think about everything going on at home or at work. You had no interest in doing anything other than that. You thought you’d be safe when you called up your best friends, Elvis and B.B. Yeah, Elvis Presley and B.B. King. You thought they’d be chill, cool with just hanging out at Club Handy on Beale Street. Little did you know the night you were in for when you ran out of the house and hopped into the back of Elvis’ shiny purple Cadillac.

By the time you’ve arrived at the Club, it’s late, so late that almost no one is left wandering the dark streets. You jumped out of the car and are halfway toward the door to the Club before Elvis even turns the car off. He and B.B. follow at your heels, far enough behind you that you can’t hear what they're saying. You swing open the door and bound up the stairs, knowing that bliss and relaxation are only moments and steps away.

As soon as you burst into the bar, your nostrils are filled with familiar scents and you smile. Woody cigarette smoke mixes with the fruity, acidic notes from the Club’s famous whiskey. The room is warm, the soft orange lights turned down low so that they cast a muted glow over the space. There are only a few people wandering about the room or sitting at the tables. It’s fairly quiet, aside from a young woman who plays a slow, sad tune on the piano.

Everything about the setting is comfortable, familiar, homey.

You walk straight up to the bar and order a whiskey. When it’s slid across the mahogany table toward you, you take only a couple of swigs before placing it back down still half-full. You aren’t really interested in drinking. You want to be drunk, yes, but not on alcohol. You want to be drunk on music, on song. You crave freedom, the kind only music could bring you.

And that craving drives your body straight onto the small wooden dance floor next to the piano. Once the woman playing notices your intrusion, she smiles and changes the tune to a more upbeat one. You flash a grin back at her before closing your eyes and heaving a deep breath as you listen to the beat of the song, pacing out a rhythm. Within a matter of seconds, you feel your body moving against your will.

All of your senses tune into your surroundings. You taste the stinging hint of alcohol on your tongue and lips. You smell the smoke as it swirls into the air from the embers of the cigarettes. You feel the cold wind as it floats through the open window to ghost and tickle past your skin. You hear the mellow tinkling of the piano as it weaves a wordless story. And that story plays in your mind, in front of the silver screen of your closed eyes, as your body acts out the parts.

You lift your arms up toward the sky, flexing and curling your fingers to feel how they cut through the air with ease, and then bring your fingertips down against your skin and onto the soft cotton fabric of your dress. Your body jumps with a start, your eyelashes fluttering and threatening to open when you feel a pair of hands gripping around your waist. But the voice which accompanies the sensation soothes your startled body and your eyes remain closed.

“Hi gorgeous,” is all he has to say for you to recognize B.B. standing behind you.

Truth be told, he probably didn’t have to say anything at all. You know the touch of those hands. Intimately. And your body fills with a selfish warmth at the feeling of their return.

“Hi,” you respond in a hushed tone, just loud enough for him to hear you over the sound of the music.

You feel B.B.’s fingers tighten around your hip bones as he pulls you closer to his body. Your arms, still up in the air, drop back onto his shoulders, resting gently on his strong figure. He gently uses his jaw and chin to push your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. You allow him to move you, caught up in the sensations of the moment. You feel his calloused fingers as they gently glide against your skin to slide the strap of your dress down over your shoulder. Your hips move against him to the beat of the song. The whiskers on his chin and upper lip lightly scratch at your skin as he rests his hot lips on your shoulder. He doesn’t press them, just lets them hover above you. The hairs on your arms raise and you shudder, though you aren’t sure if it’s because of his touch or the cold breeze blowing through the window.

You instinctually press your body further back into him, arching your back ever so slightly. You feel the vibrations of his content hum on your shoulder and find yourself smiling with your tongue between your teeth. His hand travels around your waist to press into the sensitive skin on your stomach. You suck in a breath as he applies pressure. His movements force your bum even further back into him, and your breath hitches at the feeling of his hard dick on your skin.

Just as you move to pull away, your eyes fly open to see that Elvis has joined you. His hands take the place of B.B.’s on your waist as he steps closer to you. Before you can even react, he’s leaning down toward you. You can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, the sweet smell of Pepsi-Cola on his lips.

"I missed you," Elvis whispers onto your skin and you sigh in response.

You gaze up into his beautiful sea blue eyes and reach one of your hands out to cup his cheek. Just as your fingers ghost over his skin, he turns his head and takes your finger into his mouth.

Your own lips pop open in surprise. Your heart beats quicker as you feel his tongue swirling around your fingertip and you watch as his lips curl back in a smirk. He squeezes his teeth gently on your skin at the exact moment B.B. pulls your body harshly against his. Without meaning to, you yelp and tilt your head back. You've danced with both B.B. and Elvis at the same time before. But never like this, never so...physical.

Heat immediately floods throughout your body with embarrassment. Despite the throbbing deep in your stomach and the excited pulse of your heart pounding in your chest, you feel an intense urge to pull away. You want to wiggle out from under their grasp. Everything is getting too real, much too real.

But just as you’re about to attempt an escape, Elvis’ fingers hook onto your jawline. He pulls your face around to look at him and grips onto the bones. Your breath stops and you stare up at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to do something but he just smirks down at you with eyes clouded by lust. You're already starting to leak onto your panties, your entire pussy swollen and tense.

Elvis gently maneuvers your head to the side, bringing his lips to your neck. B.B. removes his head and places his cheek next to your ear, his hot breath drifting over the skin. You can feel his hips gently moving against you and your body intuitively matches the expert movement of his hips. It feels wrong and strange but your body reacts quicker than your mind, encouraging their behavior. You feel your eyes involuntarily fluttering closed when Elvis nips at the skin of your neck.

Suddenly, the air is cold around you and all the sensations you’d been drinking in are gone. Your eyes flash back open in shock and you glance around, oddly panicked, to see B.B. and Elvis standing side-by-side facing you. They glance at each other for a quick moment as your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Before you have a chance to ask them what’s going on, they each grab one of your hands and begin to pull you away. You follow blindly, desperate to see where they’re taking you.

They drag you down the stairs and into a small room on the ground floor. Elvis holds the door while B.B. leads you inside. Once you step in, you observe the room. It’s empty aside from a random desk with a few chairs gathered around it and a cabinet in the back stuffed too full with what looks like janitorial supplies. B.B. releases your hand to allow you to get your bearings in the room. Once you’ve understood where you are, you turn and cross your arms against your chest.

“Alright, what gives fellas? Why are we all in the janitor’s closet?” you ask with a quirked eyebrow.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what we’re doin,” Elvis replies.

You shrug and shake your head, throwing your arms up.

“You. We’re doin you, babe,” B.B. explains.

You just stare at them for a moment, too surprised to do anything else. But after your brain is finally able to wrap itself around the concept, you can’t help but burst out laughing. You assume it's a joke, at first. They can't seriously be suggesting it. The sounds that escape you aren’t just giggles or chuckles. They’re full-on cackles, wracking your entire body and making your shoulders shake until your stomach aches. You place a hand on the corner of the table to stabilize yourself as you slowly stop laughing.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you finally ask, wiping a tear from your eye.

Neither of them answers but since you’ve been talking, they’ve started to walk toward you. And, now, they’re flanking you, B.B. to your right and Elvis to your left. Your smile suddenly falls from your face as you glance up at one and then at the other. They can’t be serious…right? Sex between three people is nothing but a myth to you, something you'd heard passed around during high school gossip. But no one respectable actually partakes in that...do they?

“How bout a lil less conversation,” Elvis whispers against your skin, sending shivers down your body. “And a lil more action.”

"Ooh, I like the sound of that, EP," B.B. responds, running his finger up your arm. You shudder again, goosebumps raising on your bare arms. "You should use that for a song."

You have a history with them both, B.B. and Elvis. You’d lived in Memphis for your entire life and grew up around Beale Street. You met Elvis way before he was famous when he was just a truck driver for an electric company. You had some kind of problem with your refrigerator and the company sent him. You were more than shocked when you opened the door to see such a handsome young man standing on the other side of it. He'd charmed his way into your life extremely quickly, cracking jokes and being a true southern gentleman the entire time he was at your house. He'd absentmindedly started singing and you were enchanted by Elvis' voice. Apparently, he’d noticed and he continued to visit you, whether you were having electrical problems or not. You were together for two years before you decided to break up. Part of you still loved him very much, but there was a distance that had grown between you.

B.B. was a different story. You’d met him randomly on the street one day. Neither of you was paying attention or looking where you were going and you’d rammed right into each other. He was a very charming gentleman, helping you pick up all the things you’d dropped and offering you a cold drink inside Club Handy. You were hooked on the place from the day he'd shown it to you. You spent all day there together, listening to music and swapping stories. By the time you left, it’d been late at night and he didn’t feel comfortable letting you walk home alone, so he’d walked with you. And, suffice it to say, he didn’t just kiss you at the door. There was a lot more than kissing that happened that night.

In summary...you’ve had sex with both of them, but never at the same time. You’ve never had sex with any two people at the same time. How does that even work? It sounds like a sin. But you don’t have much time to think about it, because they start in on you. Like predators to prey.

B.B.’s fingers trail up your arm, tracing the skin so lightly that yet another shiver ricochets through your body. On the other side, Elvis brushes your hair out of the way so he can access your neck. He grabs onto your jaw again, pushing your face to the side. You allow them both to maneuver you, your body reacting in approval of their actions although your mind isn't totally sure. Elvis’ lips slowly move to your neck and he presses a soft, hot kiss to the skin. You resist the urge to close your eyes or sigh contentedly. Besides you’re much too distracted by B.B. as he takes your face from Elvis’ grasp. His soft hand slides onto your cheek, holding your gaze on his own. His deep brown eyes are glinting in the low lighting of the room as he smirks down at you. He sneaks a quick look at your lips before moving his face down toward you.

You prepare for a kiss, but he plants his lips ever so slightly to the side of your mouth, catching only the corner. You gasp in surprise, releasing the breath you’d been holding. He smirks at you again as you huff in frustration.

"That's not very gentlemanly of you," you whisper against his lips and he chuckles.

But your interaction is cut short when Elvis drags his hot tongue up the side of your neck. You feel your amused expression fall from your face, replaced with raised eyebrows and widened eyes. B.B. pulls your face up to his, finally pressing his lips on yours. Without a choice, your eyes flutter closed and you sigh into the kiss, loving the feeling of his plump lips on yours and the familiar way his thumb brushes soothingly against your cheekbone.

Your hands reach up to slide around his neck, gripping onto him and attempting to pull yourself closer. But B.B. pulls away, your lips separating with a satisfying pop before he reangles his face to kiss you again, harder this time. Both of his hands grip your cheeks, holding you hostage in his grasp. He kisses you passionately, desperately, sloppily. You feel your body being pulled toward him until Elvis’ teeth tug at your neck. You move away from B.B., gasping at the sensation. Elvis begins to suck and bite at the skin, moving to hit the most sensitive parts under your ear and by the corner of your jaw. You gasp, throwing your head back with closed eyes and holding white-knuckled onto the table behind you.

B.B. takes the opportunity to attack the front of your neck. You can feel yourself fall back onto the table, your knees buckling with shock. You rest your bum on the corner of the table as both men suck and bite mercilessly on your skin. Elvis gently moves the other strap of your dress out of the way and bites down hard on the sensitive skin between your shoulder and neck. You can’t help yourself, you let out a moan as one of your hands flies to latch onto his greasy black locks. You tug hard on the hair and Elvis moans into your skin. Your other hand slides onto B.B.’s back, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt. B.B. suddenly pulls back and your eyes flash open in momentary anger at the movement.

You watch hungrily, biting your lip as he yanks his top off, revealing his gorgeously toned chest and stomach. You don’t even try to stop your eyes as they search down his figure. Elvis bites hard onto your skin again and you moan, keeping your eye contact with B.B.

“Fuck,” B.B. mutters before taking a step back to you and grabbing harshly onto your face.

He kisses you again, his lips pressed hard down onto yours. You let your fingers trail down his chest, gliding over all the flexed muscles and hot skin. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you hook a finger under them and pull him closer to you. His lips slip off yours and he grunts before smirking down at you.

Finally, Elvis releases your neck and you automatically turn to look at him. His blue eyes are black, his lips wet with saliva, and his hair is mussed from your fingers disturbing it. You can practically feel the desire in your chest and let your eyes travel down his figure with an open mouth. You turn toward him, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him to you. Your bodies slam together and his hands automatically move to slide around your waist. You smash your lips onto his, adding his taste to B.B.’s on your lips.

Elvis’ hand slides over your ass and he squeezes his fingers into the skin. You moan into his mouth as he slips his tongue over your bottom lip. You smile into the kiss and open your mouth, feeling his tongue with your own. He presses you back against the table and your hands wind around his neck to keep you from falling. But it only lasts for a moment before he swings you around and begins to walk you backward. You stumble along, tugging at his hair again. You accidentally pull so hard that your lips separate and he releases a noise halfway between a growl and a grunt.

“Lord almighty,” he chuckles and you giggle breathlessly.

He leans down to kiss you again, wasting no time inserting his tongue between your lips. You quietly moan into the kiss again as his fingers curl into your ass, pushing your chest into his. You’re jerked to a stop when you hit B.B.’s body with your back. You feel his fingers deftly unzipping the back of your dress. When the cold air hits your back, you shiver. B.B. runs his warm palms down your back, tracing your spine, and you arch your back, pressing your chest further into Elvis and your ass further into B.B.

You pull your mouth away from Elvis, desperately in need of air. You hold your shoulders back so Elvis can slide the dress off your arms, leaving just the skirt portion covering your body. B.B. quickly and smoothly slides that skirt down your hips and it falls to the ground below you.

Elvis’ hands immediately land on your thighs, hoisting you up onto his hips. You wrap your legs around him momentarily while he lays you on the table in the middle of the room. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch greedily as Elvis removes his shirt. You bite your lip through a smirk as your eyes flick back and forth between the two handsome half-naked men in front of you. Your chest fills with panic as you realize, for the first time, that you want them both. You need them both. It feels so wrong but that only makes you want it more.

It only takes one look between them before they take their positions. You momentarily wonder if they’ve done this before by how wordless their agreements seem to be. B.B. grabs onto your ankles, pulling you so that your legs are dangling off the edge of the table. Then, he crouches, holding your foot and stretching out your leg so that he can unlatch your heels and remove your socks. He does the same with the other foot, this time gently pressing kisses to your ankle and up your shin, onto your knee, and then the skin of your thigh.

While B.B. works his warm hands and mouth around your leg, Elvis circles so that he’s standing behind you. He sits next to you on the side of the table, slightly behind you. He moves your hair out of the way and begins to kiss up your neck. His fingers start on your lower back, the calloused skin scratching you delightfully. He slides his fingers up your back slowly, his palms warming your cold skin. His mouth trails up your skin as he presses hot, wet kisses to your neck and jaw and ear.

B.B.’s kisses turn into little nips and sucks as he moves closer to where you need him most. You arch your back as he tugs on the skin inside your thigh. He glances up at you, smirks, and pulls on the skin again. You bite your lip, feeling Elvis hovering by your jawline.

"Have you two done this before or something?" you ask breathlessly, glancing between them.

Neither answers with words, but B.B. smirks up at you and Elvis nips at your ear. You take that as a yes.

B.B. hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties and you lift your hips so that he can slide them off. He drops them on the ground, curling his hands around your inner thighs to gently spread your legs.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” B.B. says, glancing up at you before he runs a finger up your folds.

You suck in a breath and close your eyes in pleasure.

“Ah, you like that, don’t you, love? I remember you liked it when I teased you,” B.B. continues and you hiss out a chuckle as he runs his fingers down the slick skin again.

"Yeah, she's a bad girl who likes to be punished, dontcha little one?"

As B.B. wastes a few more minutes, teasingly running his middle finger up and down your clit to spread your wetness around, Elvis gets busy removing your last remaining piece of clothing. Between kisses, Elvis' teeth sink into your shoulder, a little hard but the pain is pleasurable. His fingers tickle your upper back as he unlatches your bra and runs his hands over the free, naked skin. You hum in pleasure as B.B. finally inserts his finger into your folds. Elvis slides the straps of your bra off your shoulders, opening you up completely to them both.

You probably would have been extremely embarrassed had you not already fucked both of them at one time or another. Conveniently, that experience gives all three of you the upper hand. You know what everyone likes and what they’re good at. And you know their dirty little secrets. For example, B.B. is a tease who knows how to use his fingers and tongue in ways that make you see stars. Elvis, on the other hand, fucks you like you’re the only person in the world who matters, the only one he sees.

Elvis gently leans you back onto the table as B.B. begins to pump his finger in and out of your wet pussy. You rest your feet on his shoulders, curling your toes into the warm skin as he inserts another finger and then another. While B.B. fingerfucks you, Elvis leans over you, pressing his soft lips to yours. You reach up to cup his face, although since he’s upside down, you wind up grasping onto his jawline and neck. B.B. curls his fingers inside you and you moan into Elvis’ mouth, bucking your hips up. Elvis’ lips slip off yours and he trails his flaming tongue down your chin and neck and onto your chest. He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging the sensitive skin. The cold temperature of the room has already prepped your nipples for him.

Elvis’ fingers dig into your skin, his hand large enough to grasp your entire breast. As he leans over you, your hands slide down his torso feeling all of the muscles on his stomach and the hair on his chest. Meanwhile, B.B.’s fingers, coated with your juices, push in and out of you and build on the pressure in your stomach. He slides his fingers out and drops to his knees, leaning forward to nip at the inside of your thigh. You gasp as he releases the skin and kisses dangerously close to your pussy. Elvis moves his mouth to take your nipple between his teeth, tugging on it. You wriggle underneath them both, needing more. You glance down at B.B. through Elvis’ arm to see him gazing up at you as he swipes his tongue up your slit.

You shudder under the sensation, moaning through a lip bite and curling your nails into Elvis’ sides. B.B. does it again in sync with Elvis who wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking it and releasing it with a loud pop. You moan in response, your eyes fluttering closed again. Finally, B.B. gives in, clutching hard onto your thighs as his tongue swirls around your clit and darts into your folds. You buck your hips toward him and he sucks on your clit, moving to reinsert his fingers into you. You moan in pleasure at the sensations building on each other. Elvis is busy at work, massaging your breast and licking, biting, and sucking your nipple. You can feel it growing sore but you don’t want him to stop as the pressure builds throughout your entire body.

“Fuck you have nice tits, mama,” Elvis breathes, licking another stripe up your breast.

You giggle and gasp, a drunk smile plastered on your face. B.B.’s fingers pump in and out of you faster and faster and your moans respond to his actions. One of your hands flies down and tangles into his hair, yanking on it as his head bobs up and down on your slit. He intertwines his fingers in yours and squeezes hard for a moment before releasing you. Your hands immediately travel back up to Elvis' pants and you toy with the waistband, unbuttoning his pants and undoing the zipper to slide your fingers across his hard member inside his underwear. You drag a finger up his length and hear Elvis hum on your nipple. You groan in disappointment as B.B. pulls away and Elvis releases your nipple.

Elvis smirks down at you, and you watch him above you as he drops his pants to the ground. You feel B.B. grab ahold of your wrists and look down at him. He pulls you to standing and you whimper at the feeling of your incredibly sensitive pussy lips touching, B.B.’s penetration leaving its mark. B.B. pulls you toward him, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to kiss you harshly. You grasp onto his biceps, moaning at the way they flex under your fingers. You yelp and your eyes fly open when you feel Elvis behind you, running his hands down the front of your thighs. You can feel his dick pressing into your back, the warm skin telling you that he's gotten undressed already.

You pull back from B.B. with a smirk and glare up into his eyes mischievously. You turn him and push gently so that he’s backing up into the table. The backs of his thighs hit the corner and you roughly push him down onto it. He gets comfortable on top, his legs hanging off the side of the table. You lean over the table to allow Elvis access to your swollen pussy. Bent at the waist, you glance back at Elvis over your shoulder to see his eyes trained on your ass. His head is tilted and his eyes are clouded with lust. You bite your lip and arch your back to accentuate the shape of your ass for him. His hand ghosts over the skin and squeezes it hard as you hook your fingers into B.B.’s boxers and slide them down his legs.

"Damn girl, you're doin so good tonight," B.B. says, brushing some hair from your shoulder.

You glance up at him and you can only imagine how lust-filled you look. You can practically feel the desire dripping from your expression as you drag a finger up his hard length. He twitches and breathes deeply, his eyes caught in yours. You run a tongue over your teeth and gently lick the tip of his dick, the salty precum sticking to your tongue. B.B.'s stomach contracts and you smirk. He liked that, you remember.

Elvis’ hands are on your hips, massaging the skin as he gives himself a few pumps before thrusting into you. You take B.B.’s tip in your mouth and hum into it as Elvis slides his dick into your tight pussy.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” B.B. whispers, throwing his head back in pleasure.

Elvis pauses, giving you a minute to adjust but wastes no time when you buck your hips back into him. He places a hand on your back to keep you both stable as he begins to thrust in and out of your folds.

You take the tip of B.B.’s dick into your mouth again, glancing up at him as you moan through Elvis’ thrusts. B.B.'s head is leaned back as he groans with an open mouth. You start to bob your head up and down, falling into rhythm with Elvis' thrusts. You don’t have to do much work. With the force of Elvis’ body slamming against yours, he pushes B.B.’s dick further and further down your throat. Your cheeks hollow as you suck on B.B., curling your fingers around his length and pumping him with your hand as well. As Elvis moves in and out of you, your eyes shut tightly and your moans grow higher and higher, louder and louder.

“Goddamn, baby girl, look at you takin me so good,” Elvis mutters from behind you and you whimper. “Oh, shit, baby…fuck.”

Elvis rams hard into you and you release B.B.'s dick, a string of spit stretching out as you grip onto the table to keep yourself steady enough for Elvis to continue. Your fingers stay wrapped around B.B., pumping him the best you can as your legs start to shake.

You release a high-pitched moan and glance back at Elvis, whose face is red and screwed up in a mixture of pleasure and pain as he fucks you hard from behind. Your fingers slip from B.B.'s dick and he intertwines his fingers into yours instead, the wet precum and spit mixing on your palms. As Elvis slams mercilessly into you again, you bite onto the skin of your shoulder.

Elvis slides out of you, leaving you sore and needing more. As he steps away, you can feel your legs threatening to give out. B.B. frantically takes hold of your arm, gently helping you up to a standing position.

“I gotcha, love, I gotcha," he says.

You smile at him, thankful for his help.

“My turn,” B.B. says with a smirk and a wink.

He pinches your chin between his fingers as you heave breaths, your chin pointed outward towards him and your eyes glazed over with pleasure. B.B. glances down at your lips and then releases your face.

Elvis climbs onto the table and you stumble over toward him. He helps lift you onto the table and you straddle him, lowering yourself down onto your elbows beside his head. He reaches up to brush some matted hair from your cheeks and forehead.

“You good baby?” he asks as he tucks some hair behind your ear.

You nod, breathless, and he cups your cheek offering a handsome smile. You gently touch his cheek and then run a hand through his hair, the sweat on his forehead making your fingers sticker than they already are.

“How you feeling, sugar?” B.B. asks from behind and you laugh at the fact that Elvis just asked you the same question.

“Great, baby. Go when you’re ready,” you respond, taking a deep breath.

Elvis nods encouragingly at you and winks. You giggle and bite your lip before leaning down to press your lips to his. You kiss him sweetly.

You feel B.B.’s hands as they gloss over the skin of your ass, and you lean down to kiss Elvis again. Elvis’ hands rest near your ribcage, his thumbs gently stroking your skin. He runs his tongue over your bottom lip and you open your mouth for him, welcoming his tongue with pleasure. B.B. inserts what feels like two fingers into you, curling them inside your body. Apparently, he remembers you really like that.

"You're so fucking loose sugar," B.B. says. "That pretty pussy is begging for us both, isn't it?"

You moan against Elvis’ lips, thankful for more contact on your aching core. You can feel your body react immediately, your back arching and ass sticking higher into the air as it pleads with B.B. to continue. He removes his fingers and chuckles before you feel a painful slap on your ass. Your eyes flash wide and your body jerks forward against Elvis.

"Hey!" you joke, glancing over your shoulder at B.B. You bite your lip in pleasure and return to Elvis as B.B. smacks your ass again.

This time, you stay connected to Elvis' lips but giggle onto them with pleasure. B.B.’s long fingers grip the skin of your ass once more before he begins to push himself into you. You whimper, your lips slipping from Elvis’. He takes the opportunity to angle his head so that he can suck on your nipple above him. You gasp as his teeth tug on the sensitive nerves. To return the favor, you reach down with one of your hands, dragging a finger along his length. Elvis sighs in contentment, smirking up at you. You return the expression and bring your fingers up to your tongue, spitting on the fingertips before returning to curl them around his dick.

He runs his palms through his hair, his biceps flexing as he heaves out a deep breath. He returns to your nipple, wrapping his fingers around the skin to massage it while he licks and sucks on it. You continue to pump him as B.B. slides in and out of you, slowly but deeply. You're almost sure that you’re taking all of his length with every thrust.

You can feel the sticky sweat of your body clinging to Elvis, the cold air freezing the wet skin in the pits of your elbows and knees. You rock your body back into B.B.. The air is filled with sounds of slapping skin, heavy breathing, pleasure-filled moaning, and the faint sound of music from upstairs. You glance over your shoulder at B.B. to see his eyebrows furrowed and lips hanging deliciously open in pleasure. He gazes across your back at you with dark eyes and smirks, leaning the top half of his body down to kiss you. You sloppily press your lips to his, just once, before he returns to drill into you again.

B.B. angles his dick a slightly different way to hit your g-spot and you yelp, your elbows starting to shake with your weight. He rams into you again and you can feel your body beginning to fail. You release Elvis' dick because you physically can't keep going anymore. His hands help to lower you all the way down onto him, your fingers digging into his chest as you rest your forehead between his pecks. He reaches one of his arms down to pump himself and his other hand curls around your shoulder, securing your body tightly against his. Your eyes squeeze closed and your forehead creases with the mixture of pain and pleasure. Your moans sound more like whines now as the pressure continues to build. You can feel the wave starting to crash. The sound of you, B.B. and Elvis all moaning in sync only contributes to the sensation.

You bite down hard onto Elvis’ skin as your back arches with pleasure. You release a long, loud moan as your hips buck up and down while you ride B.B. through your orgasm. Your teeth release Elvis’ skin and he grunts and strains. You can feel warm liquid on your stomach and realize that Elvis has finished himself off. The waves of pleasure overlap one another, shuddering through your body before slowing down and coming to a stop. B.B. pulls out of you with a groan and a release of breath.

You rest, motionless, on Elvis’ stomach with your eyes closed. You heave breaths, a goofy smile spreading across your face as you drink in the pleasure you just experienced. B.B. pulls up a chair near the table and falls into it, running a hand over his sweaty face. You open your eyes to glance over at him and he smiles. You return it, lifting your head to check on Elvis. He’s staring straight up at the ceiling, breathing heavily but looking fulfilled.

You break the silence by giggling, softly at first and then louder and louder until your shoulders are shaking with laughter. Elvis and B.B. join in with a few chuckles before you all grow silent to catch your breaths again. Gathering as much energy as you can, you gently lower yourself off of Elvis and onto the ground, your legs vibrating with the pressure.

“Ooh…” you say, wincing. "My legs feel like noodles."

“You alright doll?” B.B. asks, flying to his feet to help you. You laugh and nod.

“Never been better, although I could use a shower," you wave B.B. off but he remains standing near you. "And hey! How long have you two been planning this?"

The two men exchange a look before breaking out into breathless chuckles. You glance from Elvis to B.B., taking in how beautifully handsome they both are. You quirk an eyebrow, awaiting your deserved answer.

"Oh from the moment we realized you was the same girl," Elvis responds with a smirk. "Me and B.B. got to talkin and it didn't take long for us to realize we'd both slept with ya before."

"You talked about me behind my back?"

"All good things, love," B.B. replies, throwing his hands up defensively. "With the way you move, there ain't nothin bad to say about you. Besides, I think this worked out pretty well.

“Oh hell yeah. You a natural at this, baby girl,” Elvis adds with a smirk.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. Silence settles again as you glance at each other. You wonder what happens now. When neither of them says anything, you sigh and shrug.

“Well, come here and help me clean up, handsome. Then you can take me home,” you say, gesturing to yourself with your fingers. They glance at each other and back to you.

"Uh...which one of us?” Elvis asks.

You smirk.

“Both.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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bastillewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

#corpse husband #Corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #youtube #youtube fanfiction #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

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skinnyducky · 3 years ago

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good in bed // v.h.

Hey...how y’all doing? I have halfway recovered from my wisdom teeth surgery and I definitely was feeling a bit sad not posting and whatnot. But, here I am now, so I hope you enjoy this one. Pt. 3 to Party at Y/n’s is most likely coming Monday. And, Pt. 2 to Maneater is coming Wednesday (hopefully). Any who, hope you enjoy! Also, this is very much inspired by Dula Peep’s “Good in Bed.”

Word Count: 1336, edited

WARNING: mentions of sex, arguing, angst, language, and i think that’s it.

---------

The start of yours and Vinnie’s relationship was like ice cream on hot summer day. It was sweet, it was refreshing, and it was much needed. After being cheated on by your ex, you needed to find something to bring the love back…and that’s exactly what Vinnie did. The two of you had met after accidentally buying the same car. You bickered and fought over the vintage vehicle before he ultimately decided to let you keep it…but only if you gave him your number. You happily did so and long story short, that led to a beautiful relationship…or at least what was a beautiful relationship.

As the relationship went on, you found that the so-called “honeymoon phase” was really just a phase. For you and Vinnie, it lasted for a least a good two weeks. What started as late night conversations before bed shifted into heated debates and hate-filled goodnights. The butterflies that fluttered around had died, and now your stomach was overflowed with enraged hornets. You didn’t know what was the cause of your downfall, and you weren’t even sure that there was anything that could fix it.

Well…you knew one thing that definitely fixed it: sex. The term “angry sex” seemed like a myth. You thought people were just overhyping it…until you were actually living it. You remember the first time it happened; you were pissed that he didn’t show up to dinner with your parents, while he was pissed because you hadn’t stopped yelling at him for a good hour. The two of you argued for hours, and as an attempt to get you to stop, Vinnie grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto his bed. It was silent, the only sound being the heavy breathing from both of you. Next thing you know, the two of you are going at it.

Ever since then, that’s all you two did: fight and screw, then pretend like nothing ever happened. As nice as the sex was, it just was too toxic for you. You didn’t want to be stuck in an endless cycle and having to resort to sex to solve your problems. And also, you wanted Vinnie to know you for more than just your body. With that being said, you figured the solution to that was to communicate. Something you two did none of.

So, here you were in Vinnie’s room, sitting on his bed and waiting for him to finish streaming. While scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to say. You didn’t know how to talk about your feelings, it was completely foreign to you. Ugh, this was going to be difficult.

“…I love you guys, bye chat.”

Vinnie stopped streaming and turned around in his seat to face you. You pursed his lips and started fiddling with his thumbs. “So, what did you wanna talk about?”

“I think you know.” You said, not meeting his eyes.

“Is this the talk? You’re breaking up with me aren’t you?”

You shook your head, laughing to yourself at the boy’s stupidity. “No, Vinnie…I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Then why does it feel like you are?”

“I promise, I’m not. I just wanna try to communicate, y’know. Like other couples do.”

He shrugged. “Don’t we already do that?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call our exploration of each other’s bodies ‘communicating.’ Besides, you and I both know that our relationship isn’t the same as before. It’s like we’ve grown cold towards each other or something.”

“Is this because I forgot our anniversary?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

You gave him a puzzled look for a minute, trying to figure out when your anniversary actually was. Had you forgot too? Damn, this relationship really was trash.

“Uhm, no…this isn’t about that. Although, we really need to mark our anniversary on our calendars.”

“Then what’s this about, Y/n?”

You sighed and stood up from your spot on his bed. You paced in front of him, trying to figure out the right words to say. “Vinnie…I’m tired. I’m tired of always arguing and then having angry sex…which is amazing, by the way.”

He squinted his eyes at you as he thought about what you said. “So…are you mad about the arguing or the sex?”

“Oh my god, why is this so hard?” you groaned. “I’m mad about all of it, Vin. I’m mad that we just can’t talk to each other. I’m mad that when we do have time together, we spend it arguing. I’m mad that the only way for us to enjoy each other’s company is to have sex. I’m just tired of it all.”

“Then, let’s just end the relationship.”

You stopped your pacing and stared at him with wide eyes. “I just told you I didn’t wanna break up.”

Vinnie chuckled, “I know that Y/n, but if you’re really feeling that way…then just leave.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now. You actually want to just break up? Aren’t you going to at least talk to me about what you’re feeling? Aren’t you gonna fight for us?”

“You wanna know what I’m feeling, Y/n?” Vinnie asked. You nodded, egging him to continue. “I’m feeling…very hungry right now. I want a fat burger and a fat fry with a fat shake to go along with it. That’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. And if the relationship is already going to hell…why fight for it? I say let it die.”

He then proceeded to hop out of his seat and dance around his room, chanting “let it die, let it die…let it shrivel up and die” while clapping.

You just stood there with nothing to say. You couldn’t believe that he was taking this all as a joke. You just poured your entire heart to him, trying to fix your relationship, and he’s sitting here quoting The Lorax and acting like a child. At this point, you were sure that there was no hope for the two of you and you were fine with that. You weren’t going to be driven mad by this anymore.

“You’re a fucking joke.” You growled, picking up your keys off his bed. “Y’know, I wish we hadn’t met each other because I’d be way better off if I didn’t even know you.”

“That’s not saying a lot, babe. You’d probably still be with the same dickhead who cheated on you.”

You scoffed, feeling the hornets in your stomach get their stingers ready. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m saying I made your life better. You wouldn’t be who you are today if it wasn’t for me.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d be stuck in here, playing video games and withering away if I hadn’t come along.”

Vinnie huffed, holding back a laugh. “At least I don’t have to deal with video games nagging at me all the time.”

“Jerk!” you yelled, rushing to his door. You stood in the doorway, turning around to look back at him. “I never want to see you again, you hear me? NEVER again, Vincent. You’re dead to me.”

Slamming the door behind you, you made your way down the hallway of the Hype House. But before you could go any further, something stopped you. A feeling of sadness washed over you and your anger subsided. The hornets that once threatened to pour out of you had now calmed down. At that moment, you felt your body tremble as sin known as lust flowed through your veins. You swallowed hard, trying to keep yourself from rushing back into Vinnie’s room and pouncing on him…but there was nothing you could do to stop yourself.

“Screw it,” you whispered.

You turned around and darted towards Vinnie’s room. Bursting through the door, you tackled him onto the bed and well…you know the rest. You knew going through this all over again was bad, that it was causing more damage to your relationship. It was definitely sad…but that’s what made you good in bed.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Perspective

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse recounts the time he first met his now best friend who too has been gifted with a deep voice.

Requested by two Anons. This fic is a mash up of two very similar requests I got from an unnamed Anon and 🖤🥀 Anon, so a big thank you to the both of you for sending in your requests! I’m really sorry to be posting your requested fic so late but I hope the final product is gonna make the wait you had to endure worth it! If you come across it and read it, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“Yeah, yeah ok, I know.“ I can’t help but playfully roll my eyes at the comments that are flooding in, “Before any more people address it - even though it’s only been five minutes - I’m gonna address it myself: I apologize for the absence of the guest I promised would accompany me on this stream. She made the choice to party until late - or should I say early - and is currently probably asleep. And...I just don’t have the heart to wake her.“

In all honesty, all the blame should fall on Y/N’s lack of responsibility but I could never say such a thing - she rarely let’s herself loose and allows herself to have fun so there’s no way I’m gonna hold this one instance against her. Quite the contrary actually: I hope she starts going out and having fun more frequently cause really deserves it. She’s a super hardworking girl, studying college and working her ass off simultaneously.

“For those of you who don’t know who I’m referring to: the girl in question is Y/N, aka Jumpscaretastic, a horror games oriented streamer. She was supposed to join me for this freaky journey but...yeah I’ll have to endure it on my own because fuck me.“ I take a look at my chat again, deciding to keep this interaction with my viewers going for a bit longer before I start the game. I may be stalling but you sure as hell won’t hear me admit it. The game may be terrifying as hell - I have no doubt it is - but I doubt it would affect me so much if Y/N was here. My eyebrows furrow automatically at the sight of one specific question that I’ve been getting asked quite a lot recently and I’ve been doing my best to avoid it cause the idea - to me, at least - is so messed up. Why, we’ll get into that later. “No- ok, this is the first and last time I’ll be addressing this wild assumption, you guys, so listen carefully. Y/N and I are by no means related. I’m not related to every deep-voiced person on this planet, just FYI.“ Speaking of Y/N’s deep voice which I’ve gotten so accustomed to hearing, I can’t help but recall the first interaction the two of us had when she got invited by Toast for a game of Among Us with us when Felix canceled on us due to technical difficulties. “I may not be related to her but she really put into perspective how other people feel and react when they hear my voice. I, honestly speaking was astonished by hers.“

A few months ago

“Ok guys, since Felix texted me about an hour ago, saying he won’t be able to make it, I invited a friend of mine so I hope that’s ok with you.“ Toast announces when the majority of us have accumulated in the lobby.

“Yeah, all cool. An introduction to them would be nice though.“ Charlie says, tampering with his avatar’s appearance on the in-game laptop.

“Oh, I’m sure she can do that herself.” He says with a bit of a chuckle, “Y/N?“

“I’m here, I’m here.“

My gaze moves from my chat to the monitor displaying the game in an instant as though it would reveal to me who the owner of this unfamiliar voice that just travelled through my headphones is. You know how my voice is considerably deep, yeah well this girl’s voice is six feet below that. My eyes have widened without me even noticing as I hurry to unmute myself despite being a little late to the reaction party which already consists of a ton of ‘OMG’s and “WHOA”s from the rest of the people in the call. Not one of them, however, considers to question the authenticity of the voice.

“Was that a voice changer or something?“ I say, my eyebrows shooting up when I hear the laugh I receive in response to the question - a sound so deep but simultaneously sweet and girly it messes with my head.

“I wish I kept count so I could tell you which number on the list of people who’ve asked me that you fall under.“ The girl, Y/N replies, “But for the record no, it’s not a voice changer.“

Realizing how hypocritical this question probably seems coming from me, I decide to believe her - probably cause she gets nothing if she lies anyways. “Oh, so this is how it feels hearing my voice for the first time, huh?“ I say, slowly nodding my head, still in slight disbelief.

“Yeah, meeting her was quite rattling - in the best way possible though.“ I say, fixating myself back in reality following the little trip back in time to the day Y/N and I met. “She’s now one of my best friends so that should tell you enough.“

It goes without saying that, since she’s my best friend, I know her quite well. That being said, with the detailed knowledge I have on her, I can guess she’s gonna be in for a massive hangover when she wakes up. I just hope she texts me when she does so I can make sure she’s at least semi-functional. Just then, my phone buzzes with a message. Much to my shock, it’s a message from Y/N. Truth be told, I didn’t expect her to be up for another hour or two or three but here she is, sending a simple text that reads:

“My head’s pounding like a drum mid rock n’ roll concert“

There are no emojis accompanying the message, suggesting she’s deadly serious and in quite a bit of pain. Ok, I won’t sugarcoat it - she’s in a fuck-load of pain right now.

“The Sleeping Beauty has awaken and is complaining about a headache, just in case you were wondering.“ I chuckle seemingly nonchalantly as I silently contemplate whether to text her back or call her instead. Who’s gonna know better than my viewers, after all... “You guys think I should call her? Or would that annoy her?“ I ask, furrowing my brows at the chat as I see different responses coming in.

Meh, fuck it - I think to myself, already taking my phone to call Y/N when the support of my viewers floods in as well.

She picks up after two rings, letting out a sound that sets the tone for the discomfort she’s in.

“Hello to you too.“ I say, putting the call on speaker so my mic can pick up her responses. “Would you please rate the pain you’re in right now on a scale 1-10?“

“A hundred.“ Her strained, raspy and deeper than usual voice comes through, stealing a chuckle from me, “I’m hungover and still a bit drunk. Like, how does that even work?“

“The morning after is a straight-up bitch. Welcome to the world of bad decisions.“ I tell her compassionately, low-key wishing I could go over to her place and provide her with at least a tiny bit of comfort, as much as I can.

“Yeah...“ she sighs halfway dramatically, “Anyhow, we usually text around this time, what’s up with the call?“

“Just wanted to make sure my best-girl wasn’t really dying, you know. Who am I supposed to annoy in Among Us if you’re not there, after all?” I raise my brow and, although she can’t see me, I bet she can probably guess I’m doing that.

“Whatever...“ The same way I can imagine her rolling her eyes while smiling as she said that, “Tell me this, am I wrong or was I supposed to be on your stream today?“

I barely manage to hold in my laughter at the question, “Uh, yeah you were, but...” she doesn’t let me finish my sentence, instead cuts me of:

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Corpse! I totally forgot. Believe me, if I could roll my ass out of bed I’d hop in but I really can’t. Unless you want me to be a bore for an hour and a half, that is.“

“For starters, you could never be a bore to me.“ I say matter-of-factly, “And for seconds, you’re kinda on the stream anyway...“

“Come again?“ She cuts me off yet again, “You’re calling me mid-stream? If so, hey everyone! Sorry I couldn’t join, I promise to make it up to both you and Corpse soon.“ A yawn comes from her end before she continues, “As of now, I think I’ll go back to sleep.“

“Alright, alright. I’ll call you again later to make sure you’re still alive. Sleep tight.“ I tell her, already hovering my thumb over the ‘Hang up‘ button.

“Won’t let the hangover bite.“ She slurs/murmurs, stealing my opportunity to end the call cause she does it herself.

I stare at my phone for a second, finally becoming aware of the grin that has spread across my face. Eventually, I address my viewers once again, “There you have it, guys. Technically, you can give her a pass for answering the call, especially in her current state, so let’s all agree to not hold this against her, cool?“

A brief look at my chat shows me the ton of fluffy comments that are coming in as a reaction to the interaction Y/N and I just had. One, however, sticks out especially. It reads: ‘You like her or smt?’

“Do I like Y/N?“ I read the comment out loud, a smirk coming across my face, “Of course I do. She’s a darling.“ If I had a webcam on I’d look straight into the lens and wink. That’s probably spark more than enough rumors, but at the very least they wouldn’t be wrong. “I’ve stalled enough, Outlast is waiting.“ I announce, finally starting the game. After all, it cannot be scarier than the conspiracies my fans could come up with. I get it though - from their perspective, we’re already the perfect couple; from my perspective we’re impossible because from Y/N’s perspective we’re best friends.

Ain’t that how it always goes?

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo @beatrhizn @blueberrystigma @beatrhizn @chicken-taco-burrito @scorpios-echos

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ptergwen · 3 years ago

Note

I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker au #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

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s1ater · 4 years ago

Text

the older boy, part two. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which reader’s friends warn her about the older boy with the red mohawk but she doesn’t listen

warning/s 🚫: swearing

slater’s note 🗯: omg slater finally uploaded 😮

part one, part two

hawk: miss me princess?

you squinted your eyes from the bright glare surfacing from the screen of your phone. it had to be about close to midnight and it was almost something you expected, this text.

he always texted late, always catching you minutes before you decided to clock out for bed, and always drawing out your sleep schedule. so instead of going to bed at 11:30 like normal, you ended up wide awake well around two hours later.

y/n: you flatter yourself too much

hawk: is that so? thought you always looked forward to our nightly convos

y/n: other than them being nightly, sure

hawk: i’m a busy man

you rolled your eyes, “sure you are.”

y/n: that’s probably why i never see you outside of school then huh

you couldn’t careless on why you never saw hawk outside of school. it seemed to be rather a blessing from all the things you had been hearing about him lately. it was just fun to tease.

he liked being teased as weird as it sounded, it fired him up as he stared at the screen of his phone, smirking. hawk knew you knew why you never saw him and why he never saw you. you guys weren’t friends, barely acquaintances, only two oblivious lonely people who wanted someone to fill their hormonal needs.

hawk: you never see me sweetheart because you never want to

y/n: that’s a lie

hawk: is it?

y/n: i’d love to see you

hawk: i’m sure you would, but face it princess, you’d chicken out halfway through before you’d even see my face

y/n: lies, you sure you’re not talking about yourself?

but was it really a lie? you wondered, thinking whether or not your wits and nervousness would overcome you before you actually saw the face of eli if you were to ever hang out with him.

you bit your lip thinking about earlier today when moon said to stay away from eli for rather obvious reasons. one being he was violent and angry a lot of the time and two... he was a teenage asshole who’d fuck you over the minute you showed vulnerability.

hawk: let me come over if you’re not a pussy

you bit your tongue at the sight of the message. great, you thought. now you had to come up with some excuse only to prove hawk right; that you were a pussy. the thing was, you didn’t actually think he’d want to see you.

it was like a silent agreement that your relationship was flirting only, nothing else. he was like a side hustle along with all the other boys who hit you up through your snapchat.

y/n: sorry babe, i only let boys who actually talk to me in real life come over

hawk: alright, fuck you lmfao

eli mindlessly smiled at his phone screen while shaking his head. he knew you’d be a challenge, and he knew you’d turn him down any minute or mention of hanging out.

he found taunting and teasing you amusing and sometimes the highlights of his days but sometimes it also got boring with how you didn’t put out as easily as the other girls.

y/n: sorry bud

hawk: alright, goodnight princess ;)

°•

it was uneventfully windy as you stood outside waiting for moon’s red car to pull up and drop you home. you almost swore as you came into realization that she probably forgot about you, again.

you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as you checked your phone once again, absent of any notifications that would relate to moon.

you were beginning to feel sick, the kind of sick that resonated in your stomach from a sprout of loneliness. you shook your head, pushing yourself off the brick high school wall deciding you better start walking now if you wanted to get home before five.

your feet begun to burn five minutes into walking the shortest route you could think of as a way home, “fucking, moon.” you shook your head, taking out your phone again. she always had the strangest memory problems and seemed to always goes m.i.a. the moments you need her the most, such as.. when you were desperately in need a ride home.

“need a ride?”

you almost jumped in surprised, not realizing a car had pulled up next to you as you were focused on your phone. you dipped your head down to the low window of the old red cadillac pulled up next to you, their windows rolled down, old rap music turned down low in order to speak to you.

eli.

“nice car,” you quirked your brow with a slight impressed smile. he was one of the last people on earth you would expect to give you a ride despite your conversation the last night.

“you want a ride or not, princess?” “oh, i wouldn’t want to ruin your special me time, hawk.”

“get in the fucking car, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, quickly done with your bullshit as he put the car in drive. you reluctantly got in the nice car, swinging your bag to the floor as you couldn’t help smile to yourself.

“you know i’ve never been in a karate kid’s car before,” you mumbled lightly, examining the interior of the car better, your fingers running against the smooth dashboard, impressed by how well restored the old car was.

“is that so?” he glanced at you, a slight smirk on his face.

“who restored the car?” you mumbled, your eyes still looking around almost like a kid in a candy store, only more subtle, trying to hide the fact how impressed you were with the car.

he glanced at you again, almost taken back by the question. it was never a question he had heard before, especially by a girl. he smirked, trying to hide his own surprisal, “you know larusso? guy helped me out with it.”

“nice,” you mumbled, leaning back into the seat, done with your examination.

it was silent now, and you almost sat comfortably if it weren't for the voice in the back of your head yelling at you that the whole thing was a bad idea. you wanted to ignore it so badly, because you had never actually ever saw a red flag from eli other than the fact that it’s basic knowledge he’d a fuck boy.

he seemed like a generally good guy. no not a good guy, a guy that was your type. eli wasn’t at all the good guy type but more or so the douche that was only nice to certain group of people, you being on of them.

because he wanted to fuck you.

“got something on your mind?” he glanced at you, almost nervously like you'd hop out the window with any wrong move he made.

“no,” you said it fast making him smirk, almost as if he knew what you were thinking, almost as if he were familiar with the typical female anxiousness. familiar with the fast talking, redden cheeks, lip bites, fingers fiddling, all of it, it seemed as if he just knew.

and eli was, it hadn't taken him long when going through girls to pick up on the similar body language they all seemed to have. because really, down to the bottle, they all did the same thing; always rubbed their lips together prompting for kisses, using a different fragrance than usual when finally alone, fingers tapping, lessening the clothing on their body than the usual outfit. all similar, and he could almost see it in you despite this being an unintentional meet up... and you weren't trying to pounce on.

“actually.. yeah,” you lightly bit your bottom lip as you looked at your lap, trying to think of the best way to ask him the question that had been on your mind for awhile; “what do you expect from me, eli?” wow, what kind of question was that?

it was an honest and upfront one, something he wasn't used to, practically sending him into shock as he had to look at you fully to see if you were actually serious and not pulling his leg, seeming like something you'd do.

but you really wondered.

“uh- i, what?”

you awkwardly laughed, looking to him, “no, i mean i really don't give a shit, i’m just not about to lead you into something you think you’re going to get nudes in, because your really not.”

wow, really?

he almost swore aloud, biting his lip hard, now realizing you really weren't going to be easy, not as easy as the girls who put out the moment you called them pretty, or even the ones who you had to take on a date before they even sent.

fuck.

he laughed it off, shaking his head as if you were a fool for thinking that, “you really think that low of me?”

no worries, there’s always plan b; make you feel bad.

you laughed in return, “yeah, i really do.”

but he forgot you weren’t that stupid to fall for feeling bad just for something you weren’t about.

“wow.”

“you wouldn't be the first.”

“so, I've heard,” he gripped his neck, eyes now glued to the road before turning into a neighborhood off from the main road, his mind following the map basically glued in his mind from driving past your house to dmitri’s.

he parked, now seeming to ignore you as his whole plan begun to fall apart right before him.

“thanks, eli,” you nodded to him, jumping out of the car with your bookbag in hand before beginning to trek up your front yard.

“anytime, princess.”

masterlist

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join the taglist lil doggy

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