#and now the whole crop top and tank top situation

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Finding out that Matthew Mercer has body dysmorphia and reacts to it in the same way that I do (avoiding mirrors, not going shirtless, choosing a specific style of clothing that tricks you into being comfortable with your body) is absolutely mind blowing.

[willowsnook]

Right Place, Right Time (LN pt. 2)

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

@seasonswinter @drdbnkl2008

It'd been a couple of months since the Dutch Grand Prix and your life went back to normal. Work, hanging out with friends, watching sports, walking your dog, the usual. The weather was starting to get nicer in Austin so you were in a good mental spot.

You and Lily had checked in every couple of weeks to chat and you had grown to really like her. About a month ago you had gotten a text from an unknown number.

L: Hey, this is Lando. Lily gave me your number I hope that's okay

Y/N: Lando who?

L: 🙄 very funny

Y/n: How do I even know this isn't spam???

L: [video attachement]

"Hey y/n, it's Lando Norris. You know the driver for McLaren that you met in August. Just wanted to say hi, okay bye."

Since then you had been casually texting, nothing crazy just pretty much sending memes back and forth. The Austin GP was coming up and your whole team was going much to Lando's delight.

The Monday of race week, you were in your office working when you looked down to see Lando calling.

Y/n: What's up?

LN: Nothing much just packing. I'm flying in on Wednesday.

Y/n: Coolio, I hate to do this but I have a meeting in 5 minutes. Can I call you later?

LN: No no it's okay. I was calling to see if maybe you could give me a little tour of Austin when I get in?

Y/N: Hmmm I am pretty packed this week hanging with Lily.

LN: Yeah but you can hang out with her when Osc and I are doing stuff.

Y/n: Fine, text me when you land and i'll figure something out.

LN: Cool, I'll see you then.

You said goodbye and hung up, leaning back in your chair. This whole situation was very strange to you considering you and Lando had spoken one time in person. But maybe he just needed a friend.

You were at happy hour later than day with two of your friends when the subject came up.

"So yeah, I'm picking him up from his hotel and going sight seeing and eating I guess," you said nonchalantly as you finished the story to your two best friends, Maggie and Jaelen.

"Oh yeah so casual," Jaelen said. "Just hanging out with a famous F1 driver. Nothing odd about that." You rolled her eyes and Maggie snickered.

"Did you like put a spell on him when you were there and now he's in love with you?" She asked and you flipped her off.

"I literally didn't do anything!" You exclaimed. "We just talked for a bit and I was being nice."

"You're just not like other girls," Jaelen mocked and you groaned. This whole thing was getting out of hand.

"I am excited for you guys to meet Lily though," you said. "She's cool."

"Sounds like it," Maggie said. "Girls night on Thursday right?" You nodded. You had planned a little girls night slumber party with them and Lily to just hang and watch movies and gossip. The usual activities.

------wednesday---------

The day had flown by at work and before you knew it you were heading out the door to pick up Lando. Your hair sat in waves down your back and you decided on a casual cute vibe wearing a cropped knit brown tank top paired with light baggy jeans. It wasn't that far of a drive to his hotel and you texted him when you got there.

Glued to your phone, you didn't see him walk up and jumped a little when the passenger door opened. He gave you a big smile as your eyes raked over him in a big gray t-shirt and black jeans.

"You are totally checking me out," he said and you huffed.

"I am not," you replied and he laughed.

"It's good to see you," he said sweetly and you smiled.

"You too, are you hungry?"

"Starving."

You pulled out and headed towards the restaurant, the two of you casually chatting about his travel and your work day. You found parking at the place and you both jumped out and headed in.

"Tex mex," Lando said looking at the menu with his face scrunched. "Isn't it just like Mexican food?"

"Yes and no," you said. "It's like American Mexican food so it uses more beef and yellow cheese vs. what you would get in an authentic mexican restaurant."

"What do they mean by a bowl of queso?" He asked and your eyes snapped up to him.

"It's just like a bowl of cheese that you eat with chips," you said slowly.

"And that's good?" he asked innocently.

"You are going to make me cry in public right now," you warned. When your waiter came over it was the first thing you ordered for the two of you.

"How long have you lived here?" Lando asked after you put in your orders.

"A couple of years actually," you said. "I grew up a couple of states north of here, went to college up there, and then moved down when I got the job at Monster."

"Do you have family here?"

"A couple of second cousins but my parents still live where I grew up," you replied. "You live in Monaco now right?" He smirked.

"Looking me up online now are you?" He teased and you blushed.

"I had to make sure you weren't crazy if I was going to show you around my city," you defended and he laughed.

"Yeah I'm in Monaco, I grew up in Glastonbury though," he said and you nodded.

"Is it hard being away from your family?" You asked and he shrugged.

"Yes and no. I miss them a lot but a lot of people involved in F1 live in Monaco so I'm not totally alone. It can be lonely though." You smiled sympathetically.

When your food arrived you waited patiently for Lando to try the infamous queso.

"Well?" You asked nervously. This was very important to you.

"It's pretty good," he said taking another bite.

"Just pretty good?" You questioned.

"It's like exotic," he said and you choked on the sip of water you had just taken a drink of.

"Exotic?? It's melted cheese buddy." Lando blushed and you laughed.

"Are you like a picky eater?" You asked and he nodded.

"Yeah I get a lot of shit for it," he admitted.

"I can't imagine why."

Conversation flowed over the next half hour while you ate, trading childhood stories and hobbies. Lando picked up the bill much to your protest and you headed out to your next stop.

"Mini golf? You really did stalk me online," Lando said as you pulled up to your favorite mini golf course that was peter pan themed.

"Yeah yeah, I wanted to make sure you had fun," you said.

"I would have fun with you even if we did nothing but stare at each other for two hours," he said cheekily.

"Yeah because I'm hot," you replied with a wink and he laughed.

Lando quickly realized that you were a pretty competitive mini golfer so there wasn't much conversation even though he tried. You complained about him distracting you multiple times which made him giggle.

In the end it did not pay off as he beat you by 5 strokes causing you to pout in the car.

"You realize I play golf like all the time," he said looking at you with amusement.

"Yeah whatever," you muttered and he laughed. As you pulled up to his hotel he turned to you.

"Come have a drink to end the night," he said pleading.

"I don't want to pay for parking," you countered and he waved his hand.

"I'll pay for valet come on," he said and got out of the car. You waited while he talked to the valet guy and then followed him in and towards the bar. You got a vodka soda and you found some comfy chairs to sit in. Right when Lando started to say something, someone sunk into the third chair by you guys.

"Mind if I join you guys?" You looked to see Max Verstappen with a drink in his hand casually sitting back.

"Not at all," you said.

"Max, this is Y/n, y/n this is Max," Lando introduced and Max nodded.

"Ahh the mysterious y/n," he said smirking and you turned to Lando who was looking anywhere else but you. The three of you chatted as you got to know Max a little more and the conversation naturally turned to the upcoming race.

"Are you ready for the race this week?" You asked and Max nodded.

"Yeah, don't have really any expectations so we will just see what happens," he said nonchalantly.

"Why not?" You asked.

"The car sucks so who cares," he said and you snorted.

"What?" He asked with an eyebrow raise.

"You've won the championship how many times now? And you expect me to believe that you really just don't care?" You asked incredulously. Lando leaned up about to say something but Max beat him to it.

"Tell me what you really think then," he challenged.

"I think it's so easy for you to fall into this nonchalant attitude because you're Max Verstappen," you said and he raised his eyebrows. "You've painted yourself as this self-assured confident guy so of course you wouldn't be worked up. But how did you get to where you are? By not caring? By not having passion? I don't believe it for one second."

He sat thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again.

"You know my dad used to always tell me that if I'm not winning, then what's the point," he said.

"I think the point is that you are doing what you love and trying to get better everytime because you love the sport," you said sadly. "Winning is just a bonus. And it's you in the car not him."

Max looked at you for a second before turning his attention to Lando.

"I can see why you like her," he said before turning again to you. He reached out and grabbed your hand, caressing his thumb over the back. "It was nice meeting you and thank you."

You bid him farewell before turning back to Lando who was lost in thought.

"I think I'm going to head home," you told him and he nodded. His hand rested on the bottom of your back as you walked back towards the entrance. Lando paid the valet guy and the two of you waited for your car.

"When can I see you again?" He asked.

"I'll probably be there Saturday for qualifying," you said and he frowned.

"That's a long time from now," he said and you smirked looking away.

"I'm hanging out with Lily buddy, she's my main priority not you," you teased and he huffed.

"I want to see you sooner," he complained.

"We'll see," you replied. Your car came back into your vision and you wrapped your arms around Lando's neck pulling him in for a hug. HIs arms wrapped around your waist and he kissed your cheek before letting go.

"I had fun tonight," he said.

"Me too," you replied. "See you Saturday."

"See you Friday," he said waving and you rolled your eyes but smiled as you got in your car.

[stellasvault]

Hello!!!! Can I req hobie x innocent fem reader where hobie is spending the night at her place and and the reader randomly gets up in the middle of the night at like 3am and just literally leaves and goes to the store 😭 and hobie doesn't even know so he has a whole heart attack looking for her and when he eventually finds her he's like all mad and angry since she pulled a "stunt" and maybe he even makes her cry...but eventually makes her feel better....(sorry I just love torturing myself with sad things). Well if you do write this could it be like...hm i don't know how to explain this but things were "normal" then to angst and then to fluff or comfort idrk. I really look forward to reading stuff from you!! Very excited :) have a nice night.

stop this is actually so cute 😭 also i get the whole “torturing myself with sad things” so dw! hope u enjoy <3

❣️ don’t ever do that shit again!

parings: hobie brown x innocent!fem!reader

warnings: angst to comfort, sfw, hobie is a little mean in the middle lmao

—————————————————————————

you heard hobie hum in his sleep, a deep, soothing tone.

hobie couldn’t spend time without you. it was just as simple as that. so, what better way to keep you all to himself than stay the night at your place?

hobie was sprawled out on the queen-sized bed, his lips parted. his chest lifted with every relaxed breath, a steady rhythm.

you were simply observing him before you left to pick up some things from the 24/7 store. i mean, who doesn’t get midnight cravings? you were just going out for a few minutes, nothing to worry about.

you got out of your temporarily shared bed to put on a sweatshirt over your tank top, you knew to expect the rush of cold air when you went outside. leaving your bedroom, you reached for your apartment keys, knowing the store was just around the corner.

you laughed to yourself when you remembered what happened last time you went to the corner store. hobie had stole borrowed some blueberry jam, thinking it was your favorite spread, but returned it the second you found out your favorite spread was nutella. you bit your lip to keep from waking up your boyfriend, remembering the shock and regret on his face when you had said the news.

the door clicked as you locked it as down the stairs you went, on your way to the store to get some late-night snacks.

you had no idea the panic that would set in soon after.

—————————————————————————

hobie tossed and turned on his stomach in his half-awaken form, expecting a body to stop him from rolling off the bed.

his body instead fully rolled over, as he found himself now on his back, dumbfounded.

he immediately shot up, his ears ringing. what happened? did someone kidnap you and he was to busy sleeping to notice?

all the worst possibilities and situations ran through his head, each one getting even worse and more gruesome. he finally threw the bed covers of his body, only wearing a dark blue crop top and his boxers. he jumped off his side of the bed, frantic.

he briefly put on a random pair of sweatpants he found on the floor, not sure if it was yours or his. but at moment it didn’t matter, all that mattered in his mind was you.

“bloody fuckin’ hell..” he muttered to himself in fear, thinking about where on earth you could’ve disappeared to. he finally decided on running around town, every single corner of it. he didn’t even think of calling you on your cell. after all, you probably didn’t even have access to it since you randomly disappeared during the dead of night, right?

he was 100% false.

while hobie was running around the neighborhood looking like a lunatic, you were humming a tune to yourself as you browsed through different chips on the store shelf. so maybe you had spend a while looking at snacks, so what? there were a lot of options!

a sudden ding! sound rang in your ears, signaling another customer had entered the shop. this didn’t concern you in the slightest, as you resumed humming, oblivious to the fact that hobie was next to the snacks and chips aisle, making his way towards you.

“oh fuck, there you are!” his voice louder with each word, walking quickly towards you.

“hobie, what are you-“ you were cut off with an angry outburst.

“what were you even thinking? he whispered through his teeth, his hand gripping your forearm.

“oh, i was just hungry!” you explained happily, showing off your snacks.

he sighed as his grip on your forearm tightened, pulling you toward the front of the store to pay.

“go on.” hobie nodded almost silently. you paid for the food quietly, saying a ‘thank you’ to the employee before hobie pulled you away outside and letting you having.

“i can’t believe you?! are you fucking serious? do you know how dangerous it is at night? i was worried SICK.” he shouted angrily, moving his hands around frantically. “you really don’t realize how careless you can be, do you?”

you went silent, shocked at his sudden outburst. “i’m sorry..” was all you could let out. you could feel the tears stinging your eyes. a lump formed in your throat as you tried to hold back the sob that was beckoning forward. you knew if you didn’t walk away soon you would burst into tears, deciding to briskly walk past hobie in the direction towards your apartment.

hobie stiffened as you walked away. “hey! where d’ya think you’re going?” he shouted to you, but you stayed silent. if you even let one sound out, you were going to let all hell break loose.

hobie sighed before he swiftly walked back to you. “look, love. i was just upset, i swear i didn’t mean none of tha’” he explained with an almost silent voice.

you shook your head. “i get it. i shouldn’t have went out without telling you.” you looked over at him to see his face illuminated by the moonlight. you noticed you had arrived at the apartment.

“no.” hobie simply said, putting both hands on either one of your shoulders. you turned your head up to look at him, his expression filled with sincerity. “you know i didn’t mean a single word i said, right?” he asked, his voice in a higher pitch than usual. he couldn’t lose you. he wouldn’t lose you.

you stayed silent, unable to answer. you simply had nothing good to say. you had thought he meant every word, but his apology had made you doubt your thoughts.

“you’re amazing, love. don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise, yeah?” he tilted your chin up to look at him, his voice dripping with guilt. “load of shit, what i said. you’re perfect.” he smiled at the last word before planting a long kiss on your forehead, his lip ring cooling your skin.

you chuckled lightly before giving him a small smile, looking up at him.

“i think you’re pretty perfect too, hobie,” you giggled, “now let’s head to bed, i’m finished.”

—————————————————————————

this isn’t my best work i’m so sorry 😭 but i had a lot of fun writing the angst, i’ve never really wrote it at all :)

thanks for reading!! ⭐️

•🍡🍡🍡

[teyamsgrl]

made of glass ✧ lo'ak

being the chubby/curvy girl my whole life i have most definitely felt insecurity, so i wanted to incorporate this into a fic to bring comfort to all the others out there who know what this feels like. we all deserve to feel confident and beautiful! size never matters. on top of this, i think lo’ak would be an amazing partner in this situation and would know exactly what to do 🥹

°˖➴ warnings: fem human reader, chubby/plus size reader, insecure reader, l-bombs, lo'ak comforting and reassuring you 🥹 - muntxate: female spouse/mate, muntxatan: male spouse/mate, sevin: pretty

being a human around the omatikaya and being mated with the olo'eyktan's son was enough to warrant stares every time you walked past. the concept was odd to the omatikaya people, but luckily your mate's family understood your relationship and accepted you into their family with open arms. despite this, there was something that always threw you off when you sauntered into the village every morning. you took note of how the omatikaya analyzed your body, scanning over your curves and plump tummy, presumably judgmental looks plastered on their faces. the insecurity you already harbored due to your body became intensified and all you could really do was hold it in. you were envious of the na'vi, slender and tall bodies with the ability to move around nimbly. you would never be like them.

the insecurity slowly crept up, but when it hit it hit hard. you admired how your brother spider wore a loincloth just like the na'vi, body exposed as he freely moved around. you normally would wear a tank top or slightly cropped shirt along with shorts, but now you'd wake up every morning and dress yourself in jeans and a hoodie, desperate to hide your body. you would sweat to death as the weather on pandora was so warm, but you couldn't allow yourself to dress how you previously did. lo'ak intently observed the outfit changes, seeing how uncomfortably warm you got under your clothes and wondering why you chose such attire. he even secretly spoke to spider and asked if something was wrong, but all spider did was shrug and give a vague response. lo'ak would lie awake at night and wrack his brain for an answer, wondering what was up with his mate.

you entered the village early in the morning, spider far ahead of you as he ran to scare kiri. you giggled softly as you watched her jump, approaching lo'ak who was finishing up some fruit outside the sully hut. "muntxate, morning" lo'ak hums, bending to wrap an arm around you before pulling your mask off for a kiss. you smile and kiss back sweetly, cupping his cheeks as best you can in your tiny hands. "sleep okay?" you ask, looking up at him while you quickly put your mask back on, "mhmm not too bad, what about you?" he presses a kiss to your head before swallowing his last piece of fruit, "not too bad either, missed you" you lean into him, his touch being your favourite thing in the entire universe. "missed you more" he whispers and rests his chin atop your head, tuk approaching you both and grabbing your hands. "come on, we are gonna swim in the pond!" she giggles and starts to yank you both in the direction kiri and spider were already headed in. you smile at her and allow her to drag you there despite the pounding in your chest; there was no way you'd swim with them.

once you reach the pond tuk goes to drag you in but you stop her, "i don't know if i'm in the mood to swim, but you go ahead! i'll watch!" you squeeze her hand and watch as she frowns before leaping into the pond. lo'ak turns to you, his head bowing to look down at you, "you okay, sevin?" you nod in response, "mhmmm, just not in the mood, you go ahead if you want" you trail your hands down his long arms as he inspects your facial expression, deciding that something is wrong. "you're not though, tell me please..." he whispers, his massive hands swallowing yours. "lo'ak..." you breathe out, feeling as though you are curling in on yourself. he was too observant that he spotted your uneasiness from a mile away. "guys, y/n and i are gonna take a walk" he notifies everyone before starting to walk back towards the village, stopping at the tree of souls and sitting down underneath it. he gestures for you to join him, you settling beside him and fiddling with your hands out of nervousness. "sevin... what is wrong? you started to wear different clothes lately which maybe wouldn't seem off but i can tell there's something more, something bothering you. i'm your mate, let me help you through whatever is going on, please" he pleads, hand cupping your chin and making you face him.

you bite your lip as tears fill your eyes, gaining the courage to explain your insecurity to him, "it's my body, lo'ak... i hate it" you whimper, tears now rolling down your cheeks and pooling in your mask. his eyes soften as he watches you, pulling you into his lap. "why do you hate it? babygirl you're beautiful, beyond beautiful even" he runs his hands up and down your sides, wishing he could feel more of you. "i see the way the people look at me... i'm not like the na'vi. you are all slim, so thin and tall. i'm bigger, plush tummy and wide hips and thick thighs... i can't help but feel so out of place, i wish i didn't look this way" your tears are constant now, hands having a vice grip on lo'ak's shoulders.

"hey... i know it's hard, you don't look like everyone else here, but that is what makes you beautiful. you are different. who cares what the people think? all that matters is that you know how perfect you truly are. and i love your body personally, your tummy.." he runs his hands across your stomach, "wide hips..." his hands grip your hips, "your thighs..." he brings his hands down to squeeze them then finally rest on them. "your body is perfect, no matter what anyone else has to say..." you smile at him in appreciation, cheeks still wet from tears. "thank you, muntxatan.. thank you so much" you hug around his neck tightly, nuzzling into his warmth. "you don't have to thank me, it's true and i'll do anything to prove it to you" he whispers, lips pressing a gentle kiss on your head. "i love you" you murmur, twirling a braid around your finger, "i love you too" he whispers back before grabbing the bottom of your sweater, "can i put my hands under, please? haven't felt you in so long..." you nod and he slides his hands underneath the sweater, caressing your curves so gingerly as if you were a sculpture made of glass. "beautiful, so beautiful..." he croons softly, delicately feeling up your body which he admires so much. you were different, but you were his.

[part-time-zombie]

Too Hot To Handle

pairings: platonic DLAMPR

summary: Sometimes the warm weather can get to be too much for Thomas and the sides, but it seems that a certain snake couldn't be happier about the whole situation.

tags/warnings: some cursing but that's about it

word count: 1136

This wasn’t the first time a heatwave descended upon Thomas’ apartment, courtesy of the ever-so dreadful Floridian climate, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The heat and humidity were an unpleasant constant from which there seemed very little escape, but fortunately there was sanctuary to be found inside thanks to the modern miracle of air conditioning.

A miracle that was currently malfunctioning.

The call had already been made for repairs, but it would not be able to be fixed until the end of the week. On the one hand, it was at least a little reassuring to know that the high temperatures would be resolved in only a few days, but on the other hand���

“It’s as if the sun itself had conspired against me! I’m melting in this heat, I swear!”

Logan rolled his eyes at Roman’s repeated whining. “Firstly, the sun is not a malicious entity with the intention or ability to deliberately intervene with your wishes, secondly-“

“You don’t have to take everything I say literally, Logan!”

“And you don’t have to complain about the thermostat all day, either. We’re all inconvenienced, but you don’t hear anyone else ranting about it for hours on end, now do you?”

“That’s mostly because we’re too damn miserable to,” Virgil grumbled from his current position on the living room floor. He had abandoned his hoodie hours ago in a last-ditch effort to cool off as he sprawled out like a starfish on the floor, though it didn’t really do him any good.

The other sides had gone to similar extremes by now, with Patton and Roman switching out their usual outfits for shorts with a tank top and a crop top respectively, and Logan having unbuttoned his polo and removed his tie. The hot weather had even gotten to Remus, who refused to wear anything other than shorts to stave off the heat as he and the others lounged about in the living room.

It seemed that fewer layers wouldn’t be enough, though. Roman was currently using a comically large paper fan to cool himself on the couch while Patton sat next to him with an ice pack. Virgil laid in the direct airflow of a large electric fan placed in the middle of the room, taking up as much of the refreshing breeze as possible no matter how badly Roman complained. Remus had gone so far as to set up a small plastic kiddie pool next to Virgil and filled it with ice, occasionally munching on some as he smugly refused to share or leave it.

Logan seemed most unaffected by the heat, only occasionally drinking ice water to cool off when he felt the need to, but it was still clear that he was just as miserable as the others. He had been complaining about it to a degree, though it was about the lack of energy and motivation brought on by the heat more than anything. The sides were all too concerned with cooling off to get anything done, though they still found the time to argue. In truth, there was little else they felt like doing.

That is, except for one side in particular.

Janus came back inside with a flourish and a smile, having just sunbathed on the back porch for the last couple of hours while the others wasted away indoors.

“Isn’t it just the perfect weather outside,” he hummed, sounding far too cheerful for anyone else’s liking. “If only it could be like this all year round, don’t you all agree?”

“For once in my life, I sincerely hope you’re lying,” Roman groaned. “It’s so hot in here I’m half convinced I saw two hobbits throw a ring in the living room!”

Logan let himself smile a little at that. “A Lord of the Rings joke, well done.”

“How are you handling the heat so well, Janus? I thought you’d be just as upset about it as Roman,” Patton asked, offering him his ice pack only for Janus to wave it away.

“On the contrary I find this warm weather rather enjoyable, though it’s clearly not for everyone.”

“You can say that again,” Virgil muttered, not looking up at him. “It’s hot as hell in here and it sucks big time, and you’re crazy for saying otherwise.”

“And being crazy is my thing, not yours!” Remus added, shifting in his ice bath to better face Janus. “I know we’re worsties and all, but if anyone’s going to say bat-shit stuff like that, it’s gonna be me!”

“Oh come on, you know very well why I’m enjoying myself right now.”

“Getting a kick out of seeing us miserable?” Roman asked with a growl.

Janus shrugged before strolling to the kitchen, humming idly to himself as he quickly returned to the living room with a water bottle in hand.

“In part, yes, but that’s not the main reason.”

Logan perked up a bit from his spot next to Patton. “It’s because you’re coldblooded, right? The higher temperatures must help with thermoregulation and metabolism for you. It would certainly explain why you appear so active and energized compared to the rest of us.”

“Well done, Logan! You guessed the right answer, good for you,” Janus teased, his voice oozing in condescension as he patronizingly applauded him.

“Don’t start any of that shit right now,” Virgil muttered, sweeping a leg out in an attempt to kick at Janus only for him to swiftly sidestep out of the way. “Today is not the day for this.”

“You’re right, Virgil. If anything, it’s a day for indulging in this wondrous weather instead of lying around and whining. In fact, what do you say I go crack open a window or two and get some fresh air in here, hm?”

Janus slyly walked over to one of the larger windows and reached to open it only to be stopped by a chorus of irritated shouting from the others.

“No!”

“Fuck off!”

“Absolutely not!”

“Please don’t!”

“I swear I’ll kill you!”

Janus obediently stepped away from the window with a grin, chuckling to himself at the others extreme reactions.

“Alright, alright, if you all insist. You can’t blame me for having a little fun here, though.”

“Well, if you’re feeling so lively right now, perhaps you could be of some help and start working on some of the chores for us,” Logan said.

Janus tapped a finger to his mouth in a mocking display of faux consideration before replying.

“No, that sounds like too much work. I think I’ll just go back outside and soak up a little more sun, if it’s all the same to you.” Janus gave the others another smile and a lazy wave before heading back to his basking spot on the back porch, enjoying the warm weather for all its worth.

taglist:

@britt-ish123 @rougeside4 @oatmealdaydreams @holdnarrytight @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

@nico-the-overlord @can-i-take-a-stab @keitaisghost @new-zee-land @yuckypuppie

[jellybonesz]

Aurora Nocturne - Character Profile (W.I.P)

"There is more than what meets the eye, Miss Nocturne. But perhaps, it would be in your best interest to stay in your lane..."

Aurora Nocturne is the first and only child of Hizumi and the late Kage Nocturne and a direct descendant of Abraham Van Helsing. She is sent to the Sakamaki mansion under the impression that she is a sacrificial bridal, an event that would lead to her learning of the circumstances and secrets surrounding the death of her father. 

Also Known As: 

Shortcake (by Ayato)

Little Bitch/ Bitch-Chan (By Laito)

Doll (By Kanato)

Livestock/Lamb (by Ruki)

Maso-kitty/M Neko-Chan (by Kou)

Sow/Little Pig (by Yuma)

Rory (by Trâm) 

Personal Information

Birthday: October 5th

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Age: 17 

Status: Alive

Race: Human

Ethnicity: African American + Japanese

Gender: Demi-Girl

Height: 154 cm (5'1")

Weight: 52 kg (115 lbs)

Blood Type: B

Hair Color: Orange

Eye Color: Hazel Occupation: 

Second Year High School Student (Ryoutei Academy)

Novice Detective 

Affiliation: Nocturne Family

Relatives:

Hizumi Nocturne (Mother)

Kage Nocturne ✝ (Father)

Abraham Van Helsing ✝ (Distant Great Grandfather)

Hobbies: 

Self Defense

Writing

Studying

Appearance - Currently A W.I.P.

Aurora is a short, beautiful girl. She has curly, dark pinkish-orange hair that is usually in different hairstyles throughout the course of the games. She has light brown skin and deep dark hazel eyes. 

In HAUNTED DARK BRIDAL, her casual outfit consists of a light pink V-neck sweater over a buttoned up shirt. She wears this with a black tennis skirt and black thigh high boots. She completes the look with a black choker, a crucifix necklace around her neck, and pink heart earrings. In this game, she wears her hair in two pigtails tied with pink ribbons. 

In MORE BLOOD, her hair is now tied into a half-up and half-down ponytail tied with a pink ribbon. She wears a cropped jacket with light pink accents on the hood, zipper, and cuffs with a light pink bow on the right of the jacket. She wears the jacket over a black lace tank top. She wears this with a denim pleated skirt with pink hearts she sown in herself and black mary jane shoes with white leg warmers over them.  Aurora's School Uniform:

Personality

Aurora is a very kind and thoughtful person. She always puts other people before herself, even if it’d get her into trouble. This compassion ultimately leads to unhealthy habits on her part, as she does very little to take care of herself mentally and emotionally as long as it means that she was able to brighten up someone’s day. Despite not taking kindly to the mistreatment she receives from the vampires, she does very little to defend herself from it during the start of HDB. Despite this kind demeanor, she is willing to tell the boys off if they push her off the edge too far.

She has a sweet disposition and is always passionate about the things that they love, always ready to ramble about it to somebody. She’s essentially a nerd, liking many anime and reading several books prior to her stay at the Sakamaki mansion, including mystery and detective novels. Because of this, she has a general knowledge of how an investigation is supposed to work, tipping the scales in her favor when it comes to solving mysteries. Aurora does tend to get overwhelmed easily from fear or stress, and thus, tends to act irrationally as a result which leads to her getting into dangerous situations. 

History

Very little is known about Aurora’s backstory as a whole, but with hints given throughout the games, it is implied that she had a melancholy childhood. It’s mentioned throughout the games that she was mostly ignored by her peers and even by her own mother growing up. Aurora was constantly placed on the sidelines and made to feel as if she wasn't as important as those around her. This leads to her adopting the mindset that she has to put others before herself with the hope that it would make people like her. The main exception to this was Yui, her childhood best friend who never made Aurora feel like she was a nuisance to be around, leading to Aurora becoming very protective of her at times. 

Because of the fact that Aurora never had any attention on her when she was growing up, she finds it jarring when she enters the Sakamaki mansion, where it seems like all of the attention is on her. Aurora notes that the reason that her mother seemed to not care for her was simply because she grieved the loss of her father. It becomes abundantly clear from this point that, even when Hizumi was emotionally neglecting and abusing her daughter, Aurora still found it in her to forgive her. 

Prior to Aurora arriving at the Sakamaki, Yui was originally meant to go there as a sacrifice. But before that could happen, Hizumi stepped in and offered Aurora to go in her place. That way, Yui would be spared and Hizumi could kickstart her plan of getting revenge on the Sakamaki’s for the death of her husband. 

Relationships

Coming Soon…

Trivia

Her favorite food is apple pie

Despite generally being able to defend herself, she still tends to get scared very easily.

Aurora is a direct descendant of Abraham Van Helsing

Aurora stocks up on cranberry juice to help restore her iron levels

This eventually leads to her despising the taste of cranberry juice

In the first draft of Aurora’s story, she was simply meant to be a replacement for Yui. This eventually changed to the two of them being childhood friends before Aurora was sent to the Sakamaki mansion in her place.

Aurora is autistic and has ADHD

Aurora is pansexual

This is hinted at in Haunted Dark Bridal and More Blood before officially being confirmed in Dark Fate with the introduction of Trâm. 

It is also revealed throughout the first two games that Aurora used to have a crush on Yui. Whether or not Yui reciprocated these feelings is up to interpretation. 

At the moment, Aurora has no definite love interest. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Special thanks to @fangsforiris for giving me the template I used to make this character profile!! You're the best :]!! This page is still currently a W.I.P. so many details are subject to change as time goes on <3.

[ashwhowrites]

Can i request a fic based on the song treat you better by shawn mendes. Maybe reader is with steve and they invite eddie to a music festival like a coachella type thing. But at the festival steve keeps checking out other girls and just gawking at them right in front of reader. Obviously reader gets upset and just insecure and she notices that the whole time eddie only has eyes for the reader. Maybe they end up ditching steve or losing him in the crowd and they go off on their own. You can end it how ever you like.

I love Shawn Mendes :)

Here you go baby! Thank you for your patience as I worked to get this out

Steve is an asshole. Not proofread

Eddie used to be a fan of Steve. He grew a lot of respect for him after the whole upside. That's when he met his girlfriend, Y/N.

At first Eddie didn't even think they were together. Steve always talked about girls like he was a single bachelor and searching for the one.

Eddie has known the girl for a year now. Watching as she was pushed aside by her own boyfriend. Eddie knew he didn't have a right to say anything. He was Steve's friend but he started liking the girl. He found himself asking if she was going to be around. Smiling whenever she was near. Blushing when she would turn her whole body to talk to him. It was wrong to like her but Steve was so wrong for her.

I won't lie to you

I know he's just not right for you

And you can tell me if I'm off

But I see it on your face

When you say that he's the one that you want

Eddie and Y/N grew very close. A tight bounded friendship blossomed between the two. He could tell her anything and she could tell him anything. No topic was off the table.

Which is why Eddie knew he needed to say something about her relationship with Steve. She didn't look happy, just drained. Eddie knew he could treat her so much better. Steve just didn't care but Eddie did. He cared too much.

"I really don't think he's right for you anymore" Eddie said gently. Y/N once again sat on his bed crying her eyes out. Steve missed another date because of "work". But Eddie knew Steve didn't even work Tuesday nights.

She refused to accept that her and Steve were dying. Steve was her safety net. Someone she's been with since she was seventeen. She couldn't just lose that. She couldn't start over with someone new. Steve was comfortable.

Eddie knew she was lying when she'd say Steve was all she wanted so she'll stay. Easily telling her she was making that up to make herself feel better. She would deny and deny. Screaming at Eddie for saying such lies about how she felt. Slamming the door once again as she went home.

And you're spending all your time

In this wrong situation

And anytime you want it to stop

I know I can treat you better than he can

And any girl like you deserves a gentleman

Tell me, why are we wasting time

On all your wasted crying

When you should be with me instead?

I know I can treat you better

Better than he can

She invited Eddie to a music festival, she planned for it to be just them since music was their thing. But Steve thought it would be inappropriate for them to go alone, so he joined.

Eddie faked a smile when she excitedly said Steve wanted to come too. If she wanted him there, then that's fine.

But now as she sang along to the song, dancing with Eddie. Eddie couldn't help but see Steve's eyes constantly moving to look at all the girls walking by.

What was there to look at?

Steve had easily the most gorgeous girl in the world as a girlfriend. Eddie didn't understand how Steve's eyes left her. Eddie knows his eyes never do.

He felt her body stop moving, shoulders deflating as she looked to see Steve winking at another girl that waved. The girl giggled. She had a small cropped shirt, her stomach fully on display. Eddie watched as Y/N tugged down her tank top, arms covering her body.

Eddie scoffed at Steve and grabbed her hand, dragging her through the crowd. Not bothering to see if Steve noticed.

"EDDIE WHERE ARE WE GOING?" she screamed over the crowd.

Eddie just kept pulling her. A lie on his tongue

"I NEED AIR"

She quickly went into action, walking faster as she found a spot in the shade.

"wait here! I'm going to get water" she quickly ran to the water stands.

~~

"yo what the fuck?" Steve snapped. Finally finding Eddie.

"what Harrington?"

"YOU GUYS JUST LEFT!" Steve yelled. Throwing his hands up in the air

"HEY DO NOT YELL AT HIM. HES SICK!" Y/N screamed as she handed Eddie the water. Quickly using her spare scrunchie to pull his hair back.

"I'm going to see if they have any gum. Okay?" She kissed his sweaty head.

Eddie smiled and thanked her. Smiling after her as she walked to the emergency care booth

"you like her don't you?" Steve growled. His eyes watching as Eddie's didn't leave her once.

Eddie shook his head, ignoring him. Sipping on his water. Knowing she'd yell at him if the water wasn't half gone by the time she got back.

Steve slapped the water out of his hands.

"fuck you man" Steve snapped.

Eddie was slowly losing his cool

"fuck me? No fuck you! You treat her like ass man" Eddie snapped. Standing up, chest to chest

"oh what you can do better?" Steve snarled

"I know for a fact I can do better. I can treat her better than you any fucking day. Try me" Eddie growled. Shoving Steve away from him.

"oh really? Think she even noticed you? Your pathetic little crush. I see you watching her all the time. Giving her hugs, pecks on the cheek, little gifts. She doesn't care about you Eddie. She's MY girlfriend, not yours! So back off"

"your girlfriend? Why don't you start treating her like it. I think I've seen you eye fuck three different girls so far. RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER! Do you even see what you do to her? You make her doubt herself. You make her think she isn't worthy of anything. You have the perfect girl and you are too blind to see it. She's going to wake up one day and see you are wasting her time. And I'll be ready for her. So fuck you Steve and fuck you for breaking her apart." He shoved Steve one last time as he stomped off.

Give me a sign

Take my hand, we'll be fine

Promise I won't let you down

Just know that you don't

Have to do this alone

Promise I'll never let you down

It's been two days since the music festival. Eddie hasn't seen her since. Or Steve. He didn't care about the Steve part.

Eddie was sketching a portrait of hellfire when there was a knock on his door.

"OPEN" he screamed. Figuring it was Wayne he didn't bother to turn around

"Dustin's dimple is on the other cheek"

Eddie snapped his head to see Y/N standing with a teasing smile on her face.

Her body covered in a hoodie of Eddie's that she stole months ago. A pair of jeans shorts and fuzzy socks.

"what are you doing here?" He smiled. Turning in his chair to give her his full attention

"Steve and I broke up" she said, a tight smile on her lips as she hugged herself. Shrugging as she delivered the news

"shit babe. I'm so sorry" he sighed. Standing up and walking over to her

"no you're not Eddie"

He froze as he reached her

"what?"

"you're not sorry Eddie. He told me everything" she looked up at him. Her eyes were wet as she stared into his brown eyes

"he's lying. Whatever he said he was full of shit" Eddie defended. He couldn't imagine what awful things Steve said to her. Anything to protect himself, that's what Steve does.

"so you don't like me? You don't have a crush on me? And want to treat me better than Steve ever did?" She moved closer to him. So close she could smell his cigarette breath. And she hated that she craved it.

Eddie was shocked. He didn't expect Steve to actually tell her the truth

"he said all of that?" He choked out

"no he didn't....he tried to say you thought he could do better than me. But I heard you guys fighting before you left the festival. I wanted to see if for once he'd tell me the truth. And he didn't" she laughed, both knowing the situation she was in wasn't funny

"god he's such a dick" Eddie snapped

Easily calming down when she held his cheek softly

"are you sure you want this with me?" She asked quietly.

Eddie hated how badly she doubted herself. He placed his hand over hers, using his free arm to wrap around her waist.

"I've never been so sure about anything" he leaned in, closing his eyes as he smelled her peppermint chapstick, pecking her lips softly. Allowing her to take the kiss anyway she wanted. She pushed herself against him harder. Deepening the kiss as much as she could. Licking his bottom lip in seconds, humming as he opened his mouth and let her slip her tongue inside. Loving the taste of his cigarette breath and the hint of beer he snuck from Wayne.

He moaned as he pulled away

His eyes opening slowly as he looked over her soft face

"you won't ever deal with anything alone again. It's you and me now. I'll never let you down"

And she believed him

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek

[lightning-writes]

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - 19/30

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy

chapter summary: rue calls bucky (alt: nothing platonic happens after 12 am)

word count: 2150

tags: post endgame, pre tfatws, slow burn, canon divergent, canon compliant, au

warnings: none

a/n: we love a flirty bucky x rue moment! also some ruby lore!

AO3 MASTERLIST X

The clatter of his phone vibrating on the wooden floor makes him groan. Who the hell is calling him after midnight? He rolls over and sees the bleary image of Rue’s face.

Panic rises in his chest as he stands. He answers the phone with an alarmed, “Hello?”

“It’s a video call, friend, get me away from your ear.”

Bucky holds the phone out to see Rue in a bathroom. She has the phone propped behind the sink, rubbing something onto her face, and she looks down at the phone.

(He first notices her exposed stomach from the cropped tank top, then her pierced nipples again. He can’t presume her intention, but he doesn’t know which Rue’s getting tonight. And it makes his ears hot.)

“Jesus Christ, James,” she startles him out of his thoughts. The phone is in her hands now, her face close to the screen. “Look at those pectorals.”

Bucky looks down at his shirtlessness. Automatically, his hand flies up to cover himself.

In a muffle tone that he can only believe is to herself, she mutters, “I mean, I knew you were jacked, but goddamn.”

(Bucky has no idea how he should feel about this statement, but it certainly does make him feel something.)

She sets the phone back down and begins to braid her hair. To him, she says, “Vick has Frank over, so I thought I’d call you. I’m just getting ready for bed.” She peeks down at the phone. “Were you sleeping?”

“Kinda.” He wasn’t, but his answer is more acceptable than saying he was trying to find a comfortable spot on the floor of his nearly empty living room. “But, it’s fine.”

“Great.” She applies something else to her face, taking her time rubbing it into the skin. “I just had half a bottle of wine, so be prepared for that.”

(He makes a non-committal noise, wondering what drove her to drink.)

“Anyway, what’s up, how was your day?”

“Uh, fine?” He walks into his dark bedroom and finds a shirt. He doesn’t even have a lamp; he has to turn on the bright overhead light and frowns. He sits on his bed with only one pillow left. “How was yours?” he asks, unsure.

He watches her walk from the bathroom to her bedroom. She sits on the bed with a huff, and he notices the shelves above her headboard. Dried orange slices and small twinkling light hang from the bottom shelf, and he sees a plant vine that nearly brushes her head. Under the shelves, there are photographs taped to her wall, some people, some landscapes. He sees the shine of a still wrapped condom when he averts his eyes.

 “Glad you asked.” She calls attention back down to her. “So, you know how I work at Waterway? Well, so did Maeve, until we broke up, so everyone working there knows our story and mostly everyone knows about the whole Dean situation. So, apparently, Maeve just posted her engagement to Instagram, and literally, Bucky, I kid you not, everyone on staff asked me about it. If I was sad about it, if I’d seen it. As if I didn’t block her on all my socials already! You’d think they’d have more decorum, but obviously not!”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky offers. He got lost in the rant for a moment, but he finds his way out by the end.

She plows through his sympathy. “So, I went– wait, are you… against hooking up or anything?”

“What?” He’s confused by the sharp turn of conversation.

“I mean, being from the 1940’s and all that,” she says impatiently, “I don’t want to offend you with my sexcapades.” 

“You won’t,” he nearly laughs. “Trust me.”

(She pauses for too long a moment, and he wishes he knew what she was thinking.) 

“Okay, so I went to this lesbian bar I’d gone to with Maeve once, and tried to hook up with someone, but I had no luck - I bet the loser vibes were just emanating off me - so I asked Vick if we could have a girls’ night. And she’d said yes, but then canceled at the last minute!” She brings the phone close to her face again, to whisper, “Frank asked her to dinner, and she thinks he’s going to propose soon, so I guess she’s jumping at every opportunity? I don’t know, I don’t believe in marriage.”

“Didn’t you prop–”

“Anyway,” she says dramatically, giving him a hard look through the screen. He suppresses a grin. “So, while they were out - which I’d like to point out, it was ten o’clock when this happened - Dean came over, like he fucking knew I was alone and rejected, and he dropped off my stuff I’d left at his apartment. And I told him I’m not returning shit because it’s not like I’m keeping fucking tabs on all the belongings in my house!”

Bucky notes how much she swears but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he asks, “Is that a normal thing to do?”

“Have you ever watched a ‘90’s sitcom?” Rue scoffs. She’s now laying in her bed. She brushes the end of her braid over her face idly.

“Actually–”

She doesn’t let him finish. “So, after he left, I had my wine, I did my skincare, and I called you – lucky you!”

“Lucky me.” He tucks his arm behind his head. She watches him with another expression he can’t place. “Aren’t you tired, after all that?”

She sighs, her mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “Honestly, my brain won’t shut up.”

“I can’t sleep, either,” he confesses after a beat.

(He’s tempted to tell her he can come over or they could go somewhere, but he doesn’t want to fluster her, like she’s been.)

“Give me a house tour,” she declares unprompted. She’s laying on her side, giving him a playfully stern face. “You’ve been to my place, but I’ve never seen yours.”

“You didn’t give me a tour.”

“You didn’t ask for one.”

He rolls his eyes, schooling his amused look. “There isn’t much to see,” he admits.

“I demand entertainment, Barnes,” she pounds a fist into her bed.

(His brain stalls when she calls him by his last name.)

Bucky gets up and turns the front facing camera to his bedroom. He has a dresser, a laundry hamper, and a nightstand. He doesn’t give commentary as he enters the living room, showing his TV, still on, his record player, its speakers, and his small couch. He discreetly kicks away his sleeping setup on the floor as he moves to the kitchen. Rue watches, quietly, drinking from a cup with a familiar bird logo.

“That’s it,” he suppresses a yawn as he sits on the couch. “I told you, not much to see.”

“Oh, but it definitely entertained me,” she says. She looks sleepy, too; her blinks are slower. “Were you watching something?”

“Whatever’s on at,” he checks the time, “at two in the morning.”

“Hmmm,” she hums. He passes a hand through his still shower-damp hair. She then sits up. “Wait, did you get a haircut?”

He’s startled, fingers still combing through his hair. “...uh, yes?”

“You know, if I knew calling you was just going to be a thirst trap, I would have prepared better.” She pauses. “A thirst trap is–”

“Yeah, I actually know what that one means,” he interrupts.

(He briefly wonders what she meant by prepared. He also wonders how long they’ll continue this dance. WIll it end in a grand finale or will the song scratch to a stop?)

She gives him a curious look. “So, you know what you’re doing.”

He shrugs, “I’m just existing.”

“Well, exist less hot when I’m too drunk.” She flops back, dramatically throwing a hand over her forehead. “You know, this is what got us into the Thanksgiving mess in the first place.”

“Is that right?”

“It looks nice, your hair,” she ignores his comment, “I mean, it looked nice before, but…”

She yawns. He yawns.

There’s a long stretch of silence between them, and Bucky wonders if he should be the responsible one to call it a night.

“Can I tell you a secret, Buck?”

“Are you sure you want to do that? In light of the Thanksgiving incident?” She gives him a flat look, and he gives her a soft smile. “Yeah, Rue, I want to hear your secret.”

“I’m… miserable.”

(Her whisper breaks him.)

“I’m miserable, and I deserve it.” She wipes a tear curling down her cheek with the end of her braid. “I’m miserable, and I deserve it, and there’s nothing you can say to make me think otherwise.”

“Okay,” he responds too casually. She gives him a sharp look. “You know, if you were calling to have a pity party, I would have prepared better.” She tries to mask her amusement blooming behind her mad features. “I would have put up a banner… or maybe, some balloons–”

She huffs. “Okay, I get it.”

“I think…” Bucky pauses, eyes avoiding the screen to fully form his thoughts. “You don’t deserve to feel miserable.” He looks at her then, and shrugs a shoulder. “If you did, you wouldn’t.”

“Go on.”

He chuckles. “If you did deserve it, if you really were a bad person, I don’t think you would feel so miserable. Your misery is… it’s your guilt. I mean… you know what you did wasn’t great, and you actually feel bad about it.”

“All right, big boy, we get it. You go to therapy.”

“You studied therapy,” he counters.

(He pointedly ignores her ‘big boy’ comment.)

“Yeah, okay, but it wasn’t like it was my first choice,” she retorts. “Listen, I didn’t want to tell you this before because I know you have paranoid tendencies, but it seems like I’m a sinking ship and, apparently, a glutton for punishment, so I’m gonna tell you–”

“That’s a big preamble for you telling me you almost worked for Shield.”

Rue props herself up with her elbow, again, staring at him so intensely, it almost looks like the video is frozen.

“How could you have possibly known that? That’s super confidential.”

(Bucky had left the gym immediately after receiving the call from The Toad. He met with him at Red Hook Pier, in the rainy night, because better safe than sorry.

“Soldier,” the Toad greeted him in Russian. 

Bucky hands him the envelope thick with cash. “That’s not me anymore.”

He hands Bucky the envelope of information with a knowing look. “You will always be a soldier, even if you aren’t the Winter Soldier.”

“Anything I need to know?”

“How do the Americans say it,” he says in English, accent thick and stumbling, “‘The call is coming from inside the house’?”)

He just says, “I’m a former spy.” 

“You don’t even know my last name,” she protests.

“Is that right, Ruby David?” he challenges.

He watches realization spread across her features. “Okay, fine, I should have guessed you’d do this. Re: paranoid.”

“Prepared.”

“Distrusting.”

“Vigilant.”

“So, what else did you find?” she asks abruptly.

He’s quick to answer, “What are you worried I’d find?”

“Not worried.” She fiddles with her braid. “Just… curious. I’ve been pretty much an open book, other than the Shield stuff.”

To be fair, she’s telling the truth there. Aside from standard information about her and her family, Bucky mostly found information about her rebellion throughout high school, skipping class, failing class, getting caught smoking all over campus. He saw she’d been arrested at the age of twenty for protesting and a string of bar fights. She also had a long list of lovers, ranging from her age to much older, in quick succession. She’d been paid for her relationships, something the Toad called a “sugar baby”.

Her history with Shield had been brief and mostly one-sided. She’d done a lot of research into finding out whether they actually existed and how she could join them. When she’d been accepted, she had started training… and had backed out a week before initiation. It aligns with what she’d said about taking in her brother.

By the time Mikey had moved out, Hydra would have been outed, and Shield had dissolved.

(Bucky had been there for that one.)

“Yeah, you’ve been pretty honest,” he finally says.

She hums, eyes blinking slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Bucky is picking up the bedding from the ground and transferring it to his bed as her eyes are downcast. He settles into bed and sighs. “I get why you didn’t. I wouldn’t have told me either.”

Her lips quirk a soft smile. And she yawns again. And he follows. A hush falls between them, just the sound of them breathing. Bucky feels his eyelids grow heavier. The glow of the TV outside casts a dim glow into the bedroom,

“I should get going,” she finally sighs. “I have work at seven tomorrow morning.”

“In three hours,” he corrects.

“Fuck.” She turns on her side. She repeats, “I should sleep.”

Bucky mirrors her. “So, go to sleep.”

“You first.”

Bucky closes his eyes and pretends to snore. He hears her surprised giggle, and he catches her biting her lip as she gazes at him.

“Stay on the line.”

“Okay.” He switches his phone to his other hand. “Good night, Ruby.”

“Sweet dreams, James.”

[celestial119]

The Bet (DBZ Yamcha x Tien smut)

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

Warnings! Smut, heavy non-con, bondage, gags, sex toy use, harem boy, humiliation, dom/sub!

Summary: Tien and Yamcha train together and occasionally make harmless bets to compete for, until they aren’t so harmless.

Author note: Hello again tumblr this piece was a request by @princeasimdiya12, I hope you enjoy!

It all started with some light hearted training between the two. Yamcha and Tien wanted to get stronger and agreed to be training buddies together, so together they frequented capsule corp to use the training rooms. They had the place to themselves more often than not especially now that Vegeta was halfway across the universe training with Whis, it meant they could concentrate on improving.

Some friendly competition was usually involved with the pairs training, often used to decide who bought dinner afterwards but that was getting a little boring to Yamcha he wanted to make the stakes higher for them both.

“Alright Tien I have an idea!”

The taller man turned showing he was listening.

“So for today’s bet how about we do pull ups until one of us gives in and can’t anymore. Last man standing gets whatever he wants.”

Tien nods a glint of confidence in his eyes. Both men start their respective warm ups then get ready to start their bet.

Around half an hour later it was starting to get intense. Every muscle from fingers to mid torso was straining in agony, but neither gave up so easily. Shaking and dripping to try and lift themselves up over and over was really starting to affect them both. Keeping a steady rhythm Yamcha pulled himself up once again grunting when he let himself down but Tien found he could no longer lift himself. Arms straining and muscles contracted until he fell to the floor below swearing lowly.

“Hah! I knew I’d win!” Yamcha exclaimed proudly setting himself on his feet again. Both panting for breathe as their arms spasmed. Tien groaned in defeat laying backwards against the cool floor. Yamcha grinned smugly as he bounced towards his gym bag across the room. Rummaging around he pulled out a small rolled up plastic bag and turned to Tien still on the floor.

“Since I won you gotta do whatever I say.”

Yamcha threw the small bag into Tiens face.

“You have to go the rest of today wearing the contents of the bag.

Tien grimaced knowing this was gonna be embarrassing. He unraveled the bag reaching in to feel a cool smooth fabric, upon pulling it out of the bag he realised it was sheer and in the most beautiful shade of dark green. Sitting up he unraveled the garment to reveal a low cut sheer cropped style shirt and a pair of matching baggy trousers. Tien scowled up at Yamcha, giving him the are you serious look.

“Sorry bud but a bets a bet.”

Tien sighed slipping his training tank off and easily slipping into the sheer silky shirt. Tien flushed out of pure embarrassment, he was gonna get Yamcha back good. Standing Tien took a breathe and pulled his sweatpants down leaving him bare in a green sheer top and his fitted black boxers. Yamcha whistled at the latter, Tien just shook with embarrassment at the whole situation. Finally slipping into the very loose silk of the bottoms Tien stood as straight as he could with his hands on his hips blushing wildly.

“Tch you forgot the best part.”

Yamaha stepped forward picked up the bag and pulled out a shimmery mess of gold chains. Stepping forward towards the other male he unraveled the dainty chains between his fingers Yamcha then set them over the other’s head and fixed them over Tiens shoulders.

Tien glanced at himself in one of the gyms full length mirrors and flushed again. The gold chains adorning his shoulders cascaded down in layers down his arms and sides also having a single chain hanging straight down with a shining green gem adorning the bottom of the chain, the occasional hit against his bare abdomen making him shiver at the contact of the cold jewel. Tien was beyond embarrassed and overwhelmed at his predicament, he was usually so well kept and never often showed off so much skin to other people.

“Yamcha isn’t this too much? What if someone sees me like this?”

Yamcha laughs.

“Come on man lighten up! It’s just a little fun don’t worry so much.”

Tien sighs excusing himself to the bathroom across the hall, regaining his composure a little more he sighs going back to continue his work out day.

Yamcha is already setting up some weights when the other walks back in. They both just stare at each other for a moment before awkwardly getting back to their solo workouts.

A little while later Tien glanced over to realise Yamcha was struggling with some weights, Tien rushed over and grabbed the bar that Yamcha was struggling against. Together they lifted the bar and dropped it onto the floor with a resounding clatter.

“Man I think I’m done with weights, you can know I yourself out and I’ll give you a hand.”

Tien nodded prepping the bar with weights and lying back on the bench. Yamcha smirked above the other, reaching into his pocket, a low beep sounded before yellow light flashed through the room blinding the both. When Tien opened his eyes again he found he couldn’t move. Looking between his limbs and seeing yellow crackling beams holding him down, panic stricken he looked to Yamcha who was staring back down at him with a smirk.

“Yamcha, dude? Please tell me this wasn’t done on purpose?”

Yamcha only continued his smirk wandering around the restrained man below him and occasionally running his hand over the chains adorning Tiens chest. Tiens blood rang cold.

“Yamcha! Whatever you think you’re doing, stop!”

Yamcha just gently shushed him, grabbing one of the restrained man’s hands bringing it to his lips kissing gently. Tien pleaded on, thrashing in his restraints.

“You can’t get out of those that easily. They’re ki disabling binds courtesy of capsule corporation. Now be pretty for me and just take it.”

Tien flushed at the comment. The man above him began gently caressing from his chest heading southwards. The heat began to seep into Tiens gut even as he kept thrashing and begging for Yamcha to stop.

“It’s alright pretty boy I’ll make you feel good I promise you just gotta be good.”

“Yamcha please! Don’t do this! Please I don’t want this.”

Yamcha scoffed at that pressing his palm into Tiens cock. He whimpered at the contact.

“I thought so.”

Tien keened into the others hand as he pulled it away. Yamcha slipped the waistband of the sheer trousers down Tiens toned legs just leaving the fitted black boxers leaving nothing to the others imagination. Yamcha flipped a switch on his small remote, the low beeping noise sounded again releasing Tiens legs letting him pull the trousers fully off. Tossing them aside Yamcha grabs a hold of the others thighs sliding him down to the edge of the bench. Tiens arms now forced above his head the gold chains straining against his muscles now.

“Yamcha, please it’s not too late to stop.”

“Again with this? You need to be good for me, pretty.”

Yamcha pulled the others boxers off in one swoop. Tien gasped in surprise at the cool air against his now hard cock. What he wasn’t expecting was the black fabric now being balled into his mouth.

“Mphh! Mnm mnm!”

“Shhhh it’s alright baby I’ve got you.”

Tien shivered as the other wrapped his hand around his cock and began lazily stroking. Now gently moaning into the makeshift gag in his mouth he pleadingly looked to Yamcha, at that he stops stroking and takes out his cock starting to lazily stroke himself. Tien whines, bucking his hips for more contact.

“I’ve not forgotten about you baby don’t worry.”

Yamcha pulls a small clear ring out of his pocket. He begins stretching it out over his fingers and the realisation hits Tien when the other inches it closer to his cock.

“Mfffh! Mfffh!”

Tien frantically shakes his head as he defensively brings his knees up to his chest. Yamcha just laughs darkly lifting the remote out his pocket as the binds spark back to life and drags Tiens legs back down towards the floor. Now having free access Yamcha slips the silicone ring all the way to the base of the others cock. Tien groans his cock now hardening painfully.

“Such a good boy.”

Tien whines into the gag, hips thrusting up begging for contact. Yamcha just keeps stroking himself, taking in the sight below him.

“Shit baby, you’re so beautiful like this. It’s making me get so close.”

Tien keeps thrashing and whining needing contact. Yamcha was leaning over him now, resting against Tiens thighs and one hand on the bench beside his head. Yamcha groaned almost at his peak but stopped himself with a firm squeeze. Tien whined again because even when Yamcha was so close to him he still couldn’t get any friction.

“Mffff, ymffa!”

“I hear you baby.”

Yamcha finally gave in and started grinding both of their cocks together. Both men moaning out in bliss.

“Shit! Tien, baby I’m close.”

“Mfff tmm.”

Yamcha stopped grinding and grabbed both cocks and began stroking again. With a few more pumps Yamcha was groaning and emptying himself over the others stomach, some reaching up to Tiens chest too. This spurred Tien too, he felt searing white as he came hard. Both moaning and panting. Tien grew alarmed as he realised the cock ring was still on him, he just had a dry orgasm.

“Such a good boy for me. So pretty and you didn’t even make a mess.”

Tien tried to thrust up again begging against the gag. His cock pulsing in hot need at his painfully dry orgasm. Yamcha licked his lips slowly getting to his knees, he began kissing up the others thighs. Tien shivered in anticipation as the other slips the ring off.

“You got this baby, I’ll make it all better.”

Tien moaned as Yamcha took the tip into his mouth. He was beyond sensitive and was moaning and writhing beneath Yamcha touch. Tears began to spill from Tiens eyes from pure ecstasy. Yamcha slipped off and switched to stroking Tien.

“Look how desperate you are baby, so pretty.”

Yamcha pulled the fabric of the others boxers out of his mouth.

“Tell me what you want baby.”

Yamcha swallows the others cock down to the base. Tien is practically screaming.

“Please, please just wanna cum! All for you! I’m yours please please just let me cum!”

Yamcha hummed on the others cock, speading up. Tien continued to moan and gasp for air as his hips uncontrollably spasmed into Yamcha hot mouth.

“Yam- gonna- ah!”

With a final bob of his head Tien was shaking as his body exploded into Yamcha mouth. Both catching their breathes for a few moments, they just looked at each other both in a euphoric haze. Yamcha moved first releasing Tien from his binds, rubbing the others ankles and wrists Yamcha helps the other sit up. Tien couldn’t meet the others eyes.

“You alright there buddy?” Yamcha prompted.

“I just uh- never been better buddy.” Tien flushed, reality setting in.

“So…”

“Yeah… so…”

“Some bet that was, huh.”

“Yeah uh sorry. Come here Tien I’ll help you get cleaned up. Then uh dinner? My treat.”

[savedgraciously]

Day 27 - about me

Hi, it's me! I'm the problem, it's me!

I'm Joann. 2022 Joann was a whole ass mess. I'm pretty sure if you read my blog you're very well aware of what I've been through. However, 2022/2023 Joann has been doing the work. I've sat in my loneliness and I actually enjoy the solitude now. Before, I used to hate it. I didn't know how to enjoy my own company. When I moved out in the beginning of the year, that's when I fully understood how nice it is to be alone.

I feel like I've done all I needed to do to heal. I still have my moments for sure and I still need to work on how to detach myself from certain people and situation but aside from that, I'm doing pretty good. My self-awareness is so good. So good that I know when a decision is bad I can admit it and when it doesn't work out in my favour, I can hold myself accountable and not blame other people and that's on healing and growth!

As for my health, I've lost 40 lbs since I was broken up with and I'm so happy about it. I never thought I would lose this much and I love myself for it. I've been very disciplined and consistent with my routine. I've been able to wear more clothes that show off my body. 2022 Joann would have never considered wearing cropped tank tops but now, that's mostly all I wear outside. I also enjoy showing off the tatties so why not?

Let's Get Back Into Journaling

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

I saw your recent ask about describing character design and I was wondering how you would do that for clothes, especially high detail garments and accessories.

Tips on How To Describe Clothing

1.  Don’t Go Overboard

Over-describing clothing can get in the way of the flow of your scenes, so keep it short and sweet.

Do your readers really need to know what each of the five rings your character is wearing looks like? 

Do they really need to know that your character’s jeans have exactly five rips in them or that they’re wearing this very one specific Gucci shirt that you saw online and are now describing in depth for no reason?

You don’t have to info-dump everything about a character’s outfit the moment they walk in, because being completely honest, your narrator probably won’t notice all that stuff right off the bat. Stick to the basics and defining features for the first look, and you can always sprinkle in descriptions during the dialogue.  

2. Clothing can help the readers get to know your character: Make It Count!

Saying that a character walks in wearing jeans and a T-shirt doesn’t say all that much about them. I mean, you can infer some things, but it’s pretty basic and could be worn by anyone. Clothing is an excellent way to show and not tell your audience about your character, and you should utilize it to the fullest!

Take this example:

A character walks in. She has eight studs in each ear, holographic Doc Martens, ripped jeans, and a T-shirt with some obscure band logo on it. The shirt is discolored in places from when she’d spilled bleach and tried to use her black hair dye to re-stain it.

Before she’s even opened her mouth, you already have a good idea of what this character is going to be like in a matter of two sentences. Readers can piece together assumptions about a character just by their outfit alone, and it can save you a whole lot of time later.

Things you can describe about an outfit that can help give it personality:

Certain logos or patterns

The color

The condition (stains, rips, frays, etc.)

The style (Doc Martens and leather jackets to go for a more grunge/goth/punk aesthetic, loose-fitting sweaters and glasses for academia, sweatpants and sweatshirts for people who don’t care much for the status quo, etc.)

The fit (loose, tight, etc.)

Self-alterations (ie T-shirt cut sloppily into crop top, jeans rolled up, addition of pins/patches/paintings, etc.)

3. Setting Counts!

A character that lives in Minnesota isn’t going to go strutting around in booty shorts and a tank top in the dead of winter. 

Someone from a different country may not wear the same things as people in America. 

People from cities may be more fashion-forward, while people from the country choose their fashion more based on usefulness. 

People from different time periods will wear different clothes depending on gender presentation, social class, and country of origin—so research accordingly!

Scene-by-scene setting also counts! 

If a character walks into an important meeting in pajamas, it’ll tell the readers a lot about who they are as a person, so dress your character accordingly for every situation. Do they not care about how they look, or are they very dress to impress for every possible occasion?

4. Stick to What Your Narrator Knows

You might’ve researched all different kinds of fabric and styles from around the world, but unless your character is a cultural anthropologist or a fashion major, they probably won’t know what you know!

Will your character who lives off the land, has no internet, and hasn’t gone to school since the 60s really know what chiffon is, or will they just say “translucent mesh fabric”? 

Will your character who doesn’t normally don feminine clothing know what an A-line drop hem fit and flare dress is? Will your character know the minute technical details of clothing from different countries or cultures?

The chance is that they won’t, so don’t try to dump all your research onto your readers: some of them might not know these things, either!

I hoped this helped, and happy writing!

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (4/5)

Still working on this for @peachworthy. Should wrap up sometime this week or next and then the full thing'll get posted to AO3. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here for now!

They decide to do it on a Saturday night.

Link has the weekend off from work and no classes. Rhett’s schedule is also free. They discuss the matter in terse terms, both seeming nervous about the idea, but neither backing down.

As such, Saturday rolls around with little fanfare until late into the evening. An evening that finds Link sitting on the couch, one of his legs jiggling and bouncing about as he waits for Rhett.

Rhett comes out to the living room holding a pillow and he offers it to Link. Link looks at it with some confusion and his friend clears his throat, eyes darting away, “For your lap.”

“My-?” Link looks down and then to Rhett and then…oh. Link colors, realizing that the pillow is to be used in order to cover any potentially ‘arising’ situation on his part. Feel exposed yet stubborn, he remarks dryly, “Don’t think I’ll need that.”

Rhett lets out a loud laugh and pats him in the chest with it, “Trust me. If I’ve done my job right? You will.”

“…point taken,” Link says softly and he takes the pillow, settling it over his crotch. To be fair, he probably will pop wood. After all, he sometimes pops it when Rhett’s full clothed.

Nude?

Yeah.

Link presses down on the pillow harder, even the errant thought of a nude Rhett causing a stirring. Rhett walks to the television and fiddles with the remote.

An app that Link’s noticed before, but never bothered with, is clicked on. Erotes Plus. The screenshots for the videos that come up are…certainly something. Link looks away, almost overwhelmed by all the bare flesh before him. The titles of the videos are also a bit much. Rhett notices and Link can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “Prude.”

Link scowls and glares back at him and the screen. He is nota prude. However, titles such as ‘Lonely Housewife Squirts for The First Time’ and ‘He Rides His Daddy Dry’ would take anybody aback. At least Link would like to think so – he supposes some people are more immune than others. After all, his own history with porn is on the small side.

During puberty he’d taken his healthy peeks at nude magazines and a few of his friends had snuck out adult VHS tapes to check out, but for the most part it hadn’t interested him. Granted, this was probably due to his eventual discovery that – while he appreciated the female form – it didn’t draw his interest quite like the male one did.

And finding gay porn? Where he grew up? Yeah, pretty much a completely impossibility. And then – when he’d finally managed to snag some – it had, once more, disappointed. It all just seemed so cold and callous. Like a business transaction with a boatload of grunting. Not at all to his tastes.

Rhett, scrolling through the videos, finally finds one titled simply ‘Movement’ and turns to Link with an apprehensive glance, “Still plenty of time to say ‘no’.”

Link’s throat is dry. Unlike some of the other screenshots, this one is vaguer. It’s two forms silhouetted in shadow. One of those forms is Rhett. Link feels numb as he speaks, “I’m good.”

Rhett clicks the video and it begins.

He moves over and sits near Link, lounging against the other side of the couch in an oh-so-casual way. As if an adult video starring him hasn’t just begun to play.

The film opens with a lithe redhead in a yoga outfit doing various poses. While this is being shown the title card appears followed by the starring and since Link highly doubts Rhett goes by ‘Jenessa Star’, he can’t help but chuckle at, “‘Donatello Velvet’?”

“What?” Rhett asks simply and Link gestures to the television, “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That’s the screen name you chose?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just don’t see you as a ‘Donatello’,” Link grins at him and Rhett laughs, rubbing one finger along his top lip thoughtfully, “What would you’d’ve gone with then?”

“If I was doing adult film?” Link asks and at Rhett’s nod, he crosses his arms and thinks, “I don’t know…Bevin, maybe?”

Rhett tosses his head back and laughs and Link feels a fissure of delight at that sound, just as he always does. He turns back and the redhead’s poses have become…much more complex. Almost painful looking as she contorts herself to degrees Link wouldn’t think possible and then she rises, stretching out and that’s when Rhett enters.

Or maybe it would be better to think of it as Donatello enters. Yes, it’s a little easier that way and Link does his best to cling to that, to try and stay nonchalant as he offers dryly, “Well, well – there’s a familiar lookin’ fella.”

Rhett just hums and they both watch as he walks up to the woman. He runs his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, whispering into her neck huskily, “Good form.”

Link can’t help but let out a snort. Rhett rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay – I know, I know. Dialogue’s a bit-?”

“Bad?”

“…it could use some improvement.”

“Uh huh,” Link just beams and hey, this isn’t so bad. Cheesy and kind of silly and maybe it will just stay like this. Light and fun. For all Link knows, they won’t even watch the whole thing. Maybe just some of it and then they can turn on something els-!

Rhett begins kissing Jenessa’s neck, white teeth visibly dragging along her skin and Link’s whole body tightens. A phantom sting starts along the same side of his neck that Rhett’s touching on Jenessa. Jenessa’s whole throat arches back, a pleasured moan leaving her and Rhett’s tongue is…very pink.

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he says (much huskier than he’d like) “N-Nice camera work…”

Rhett just hums, “Mac’s always had a good eye.”

“Mac?”

“Mackenzie, the director of this one.”

Link just lets out a sound of acknowledgement as he watches Rhett reach around Jenessa and tug at her tank top. Tug until her small, pointed breasts pop free. He cups them in his hands and he has…great hands.

They looks so tan against her skin, palms rough and big, and Jenessa lets out a full throttle moan. Rhett teases the pink tips, fingertips agile as they play along the sensitive flesh, as they circle around her areolas.

She whimpers and turns, kisses him fully, passionately, and it’s…messy. Wet. Link can feel his whole heart thump hard at the sight. Janessa’s hair is shorter than Rhett’s – cropped close to her scalp and Rhett’s hands have abandoned her chest to run through the short strands.

Link barely stops himself from reaching up and touching his own hair, instinctively wanting to mimic how that might feel. To imagine Rhett doing it to him.

He tries not to fidget and talking, talking will help, “Surprised this isn’t more, ah, instant.”

Rhett shrugs, “Foreplay’s a thing, man.”

“No, I know,” Link knows his voice pitches a little high at this, defensive, “Just…figured, mean...’s porn…”

“Some of the earlier videos on here are like that, but when EP got bought out, the new owners took the company in a different direction.”

“EP?”

“Erotes Plus. The platform these films are on,” Rhett explains and then he starts mentioning a few things about different production companies and distributors and the like, but Link is too distracted because Jenessa is now fully naked and Rhett is on his knees between her legs, feasting on her moist lower lips.

The silken tip of his tongue is parting her, dancing along the bundle of nerves that is her clit and her head is tossed back on a loud, wild whine.

Her pale body undulates and she’s gripping his long hair so hard. Link feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. This is his roommate. His friend. The man he’s secretly in love with.

And he’s pleasuring this woman with such…focus. With intensity and finesse and when he rises, his erection is clear, straining at the linen pants that are containing it. Link points to the screen weakly, “Hippie clothes.”

The comment is stupid and unhelpful, but Rhett just laughs, “Yeah – kinda the theme of this series. I’m like, a Yoga Instructor or something? Least that's the way it was explained to me, so – linen pants, cotton top – I mean, we’ve had better costumes, but for this shoot-!”

Rhett is talking some more but, again, Link is barely listening. His eyes are transfixed by what’s taking place on the screen. Janessa easily strips off Rhett’s shirt and then his pants and – No. Underwear.

Link is seeing Rhett’s dick. It’s there…thick, but not as big as his own, a visible vein running along one side. Dusky dark and with a blushing pink tip and gently curling hair hiding his full, taunt sack…

“Link? Buddy? You doin’ alright?”

“Fine.”

“Lookin’ like you seen a ghost," Rhett teases, but there’s a breathless quality to his words, “My body all that bad?”

Link just shakes his head and watches as Jenessa strokes Rhett, as his head falls back and he lets out a shuddering gasp that Link feels in his very bones.

Link is suddenly very, very thankful for the pillow that bobs some as it reacts to the situation taking place beneath it. That situation being Link’s own dick perking upwards, making his jeans tight and constrictive.

“You…?” Something Rhett said finally seems to click in Link’s head, “You said this is a series?”

“Yup,” Rhett murmurs and now the film shows him pressing Jenessa against one of the studio walls and she raises one leg high. Insanely high. It’s a very gymnastic level move and Rhett slots his cock up with her opening, sliding hard and deep into her body.

Jenessa lets out a wail of pleasure as he presses in and she holds that leg up – all strength and grace as he begins to move within her at a steady rhythm.

Her hips answer some, but it’s more about how…open she is. And how deep he’s getting. They’re eyes are locked as he picks up his pace, rocketing in and out of her, shaking her whole form with his thrusts, her tiny breasts jiggling with each movement and movement, they call this…

“Got an award for this one.”

Thank God. That one comment draws Link back to some semblance of sanity even as his body quickens with an unspeakable longing, a carnal hunger that aches, “Really?”

“Uh huh,” Rhett says with no small amount of pride, “Best Sex Scene.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I owe it to her to be honest,” he waves to the screen, “She’s the one turning herself into a pretzel throughout this thing. Same for the rest of ‘em. They kept finding co-stars for me to work with who had had extensive training in this sort of body contortion. It was just my job to, uh, well…”

Rhett waves again and the answer is obvious: to fuck them through it. Link is not at all limber. In fact, he’s kind of a klutz. Nothing to match up with someone like this.

For some reason, this realization leaves him hollow. Cold. His arousal dims some, “Where’d you get the award from?”

“XRCO.”

Link makes some sound that would imply he understands, but he doesn’t. Rhett sighs, “Got nominated for Most Popular Male Performer on Pornhub but lost to Johnny Rockwell. Guy deserved it though. Performance he did that year was nuts.”

Link’s lost in the vocal cacophony that is erupting from the television speakers. Moans, gasps, grunts, cries of sheer ecstasy as Rhett and Janessa really ramp it up.

They’re in a different position now, Jenessa’s body once more arched at a crazy angle and Rhett's just...really getting in there. His hips are pumping double time, like a jackhammer, and she is loving it.

Her blue eyes are flashing with adoration, her lips curled in that moue that speaks to an almost pleasurable pain and Link can’t help but ask, “Are the others with her?”

Rhett takes a moment to process the question and when he realizes Link is asking about the other films in the series, he shakes his head, “Nah, man. You don’t usually have repeating partners. Like I said, they found other people who could bend in weird ways. The sequel to this sees me with Julian St. Croix. Great guy. Really smart. He’s actually working on another doctorate. Plans on working in the tech field when he retires, which – money he’s making, should be pretty damned soon. You want me to dial that up?”

Link just shakes his head. The idea of watching Rhett doing something like this with yet another person and with a man no less…

He feels crappy for, well, feeling crappy. This is Rhett’s job. He shouldn’t take this personally.

Besides, it’s not like Rhett knows how Link feels about him. To him, they’re just friends and he should play the part of friend – be a friend, a good friend, “I can see why you won the award, Rhett. You’re doing a…a great job. Real good acting.”

The sound of the shocked (yet oddly sharp) laughter that leaves Rhett at that actually causes Link to finally look at him.

Rhett’s face is a ruddy red, like he’s embarrassed or something, and he’s looking at Link with a bit of a wildfire in his eyes, “‘Good acting? Are you serious?”

Link finally shifts about on the couch (which feels fantastic considering his body has been fighting off a plethora of sensations for a while now) as he fully turns to him, pillow still firmly in place, “Of course! I mean, it-it seems like you’re really into this girl,” he gestures to the screen, “when you’re doing this and I imagine that’d take some acting chops.”

He chews on his bottom lip and lowers his gaze, hands ghosting over the pillow as he talks to it more than Rhett, “Un-unless you really are into her.”

“Into her?” Rhett pokes one finger over to the television, “Into Janessa?”

“Yeah, I mean…if-if you two are a couple or-or were one or-?”

“Me and Janessa?” Rhett asks incredulously and some of the heat seems to leave him. Link gets the impression that Rhett had, for a moment, been mad or affronted by Link’s well intentioned compliment, but now is completely changing track. Now Rhett seems charmingly baffled, “You think I’m into Janessa?”

“I-I was just saying if you’re not into her in this,” Link waves to the screen where (seeing as the volume is dying down) it would seem the film is reaching its conclusion, “Then the acting is good and if you are-!”

“I’m not,” Rhett confirms firmly, “I am very much not, nor was I ever, into Janessa. We’re friendly, but we’d never work as a couple, man. She likes cats.”

Rhett says the last as if it’s a blasphemy and Link can’t help but giggle, suddenly feeling bright and light even though he knows better than to do so, “Problem?”

“Not a big fan of lil demons…”

“Noted, “Link sighs and he feels much, much better. The film is finally over, he’s seen some of Rhett’s work, and he can now say the following with sheer confidence, “I’m proud of you.”

And with that, Rhett freezes. He freezes solid, back going ram rod straight, and his eyes – they’re as round as dinner plates.

Big and green and looking at Link like’s a wild anomaly and Link worries that maybe he, somehow, inadvertently offended him with the remark so he’s quick to explain, “I-I mean it, bo. I’m proud of you. Going out there and-and doing something like this. Being so…so exposed and vulnerable and for anyone to see and yeah, sure, I mean, I guess it’s just for people to-to beat off to or whatever, but when you think about it, it’s something that brings people pleasure, which is a lot better than bringing something bad into people's lives and I know some would argue that porn is like, some gateway into violent dark tendencies or whatever, but for the average person it’s a good thing to explore and the fact you can so freely provide that to them and not be ashamed-!”

Link is blathering.

He’s a blathering idiot.

But he feels like if he stops talking, Rhett might snap at him. Or be mad. Or-!

But instead Rhett just shakes his head and whispers, “You’re unbelievable.”

Link’s diatribe cuts off. His blood stops in his veins. He feels completely seized.

“I’ve been trying so hard…fighting with everything in me,” Rhett breathes and he just…eases forward, eases closer. He’s in Link’s personal space and Link wonders if he should back up or something.

He can feel the heat coming off Rhett’s skin. His breath is bathing Link’s face as he rasps, “But I can’t anymore. You’ll have to forgive me, but…”

Rhett kisses him.

Rhett. Kisses. Him.

Rhett kisses Link.

Their lips meet in the smallest, quickest, sweetest little peck. The sound of it, the quick wet click of their lips…it’s earth shattering, sound-barrier breaking.

And Link feels his whole nervous system lurch at it. And Rhett is still looking at him, searching his eyes wildly. Link blinks and licks his lips and tries to speak, but there’s nothing to say.

Rhett just grins softly, “Bad for business…that’s what you are…”

Link’s gaze dips to Rhett’s mouth. To his lips. Lips that were on his seconds ago. His eyes feel heavy lidded as he gulps and Rhett just huffs as he kisses him again. Again.

Another kiss and this one is more than just a peck. This one? This one is the one Link’s been dreaming of, the one he’s been wishing for.

This kiss is perfect.

[shininglynxie]

On a not so positive note, I have to talk about the Design your Horas contest and D.U.A.R.D.S. With the full episode now out, it has become pretty clear to me that that contest was basically used as a glorified teaser for the episode, and I don't like that. Let me explain why I think that.

The top winner of the contest was very clearly designed by The Ink Tank. The original submission was quite clearly drawn by Kuro. They didn't even try to hide it that well, and no one even batted an eye. Literally no one in the comments of the winners video noticed it.

The artist they credited - Toon-drawing - does seem to be a real person, and not some fake persona of one of The Tank members. Their channel has existed for years and they've made plenty of videos, too. They just seem to be either someone a member of the Ink Tank knows, or a Patreon/YouTube member, or evecn a random fan, perhaps even one that submitted something to the contest.

The alleged creator of D.U.A.R.D.S isn't credited in the episode's description. The only character design credit is attributed to O.R.Ash, which just further proves to me that this character wasn't made by a fan.

The "cameo" that the character ended up receiving was a lot more fleshed out to actually be one, too. D.U.A.R.D.S is fully animated and has several stills with different angles. A fan-made character would not receive such a treatment. This was a pre-planned character appearance, not a cameo. A cameo is what we got in the X'Nelli And Beyond wit all the fan-made aliens.

With all that said I just have to ask: Why lie to your fans like that? Why did you have to lie about the amount of real winners? Why did you have to give the fans the false hope of their Horas making into And Beyond? All that for a measly teaser? You could've fulfilled your promises and still had the teaser in that video at the very end! You literally said yourself in that same video that D.U.A.R.D.S absorbs other Horas units! He could've just made a surprise appearance in the end and absorbed all the winning Horases! You did not have to lie like that at all!

All in all, this isn't as big of a deal as I may have made out to be in this post. I'm pretty certain that not everyone was lied to. Judging by this memebers-only video thumbnail, at leat the members knew about the true nature of D.U.A.R.D.S. Plus, art contests are meant as a fun drawing challenge. The fact that people had fun making their own Horases is what should matter in the first place! But, this contest in the way that ended up being was just a bad idea and should have been done more honestly.

I'm a big fan of The Ink Tank's works, and I love basically everything they make! I usually tend to look past the issues that crop up, surrounding them, because they're usually very minor. But this whole situation felt significant enough for me to bring it up, as it genuinely made me quite upset.

New And Beyond episode was released! You know how I'll be about The Ink Tank's projects, I will overanalyze them to hell and share all my thoughts on it!

Spoilers for the episode ahead!(obviously) Watch it here first, if you have not already. Though I wouldn't recommend watching this episode if you haven't watched the series before.

So, the Fulmini are 5yl canon now, kinda. Not quite, though, as Horas says that there was no physical evidence left of them, meaning that they could be very different from the Fulmini we know. I guess Kuro truly did open his mind about including Reboot content within the 5yl canon in a tangible way, huh?

This episode has a lot of messed up stuff in it, and the first bit of it is the fact that Cerebrocrustaceans die due to their brain growing too large. Yeah, that's pretty grotesque, but like in a cool way. It's sort of similar to how rats' teeth can grow too long and kill them if they don't file them often.

I like the way that these brain crabs reproduce, too! I think that combining two brains together is a pretty unique and fitting way for them to make babies! This also sort of implies that Cerebrocrustacean children could have more than two parents, which I think is neat!

The juxtaposition of Kusen Encephalonus being this beloved crab man, who just loved science and technology, as well as sharing that love of his to also being someone, who decided to sacrifice his life to create these very unnatural hybrid offspring with the species of other planets of the system, is kinda crazy.

A small detail I wanted to point out is the fact that one of Kusen's descendants became a massive brain tree, which is pretty crazy!

I was hoping that Vicetopus would get a proper scientific name, and I'm happy to see that it did!

We get a proper look at Khyber in his full mutated glory! Like we could infer from the Appoplexia episode, he is indeed mutated with all of the Nemetrix predator DNA. And we'll never find out how he ended up this way.

Everything about Psybot is so fucked up, and I absolutely love it! That metamorphosis animation was incredible! The fact that it is an upside down Horas droid with Ectonurite features is so Zs'Skayr to the core, and I love that about it!

Man, Psychobos, what happened to you? It looks like he might be dying, but the technological augments are keeping him together. It looks like his brain might have started outgrowing his body, which is probably why he's taller now. It is so in character for him to embrace that, though. He would want to prove his superior intelligence by any means possible, even if he's literally dying because of how big his brain is. I also like that his larger robotic claw almost seems to act as a cane, as he rests his smaller organic claw on it from time to time.

D.U.A.R.D.S is an incredibly cool design! It chasing 4oras down was quite freaky, not gonna lie. I did like their exchange with 4oras, too. It was genuinely quite heartfelt for an exchange between two robots. D.U.A.R.D.S almost seemed to show some emotion when it mentioned the plumbers abandoning the Horas units it's made out of on Appoplexia. I also liked the snap back it had to 4oras' comment about it. It was pretty funny! I also absolutely love the reference to O.R.Ash's catchphrase for its final line! That was brilliant!

I'm a little disappointed that we didn't get to know more about the other species and planets of the Encephalonus system. The subversion of the And Beyond format was a fun twist, but it still would have been nice to have that information. Here's hoping that the Drawing Matrix Minis would shed more light on these species. For now, though, I'm going to list everything I could notice about these species so far.

The one we found out about the most - the Paraklept. They're a sea anemone-like species with an extremely paralytic touch. They are based on and directly expand upon the background Undertown citizen known as Sponge Gorb. Their home planet is Encephalonus III, which seems to be a lush forested planet. Horas describes it as colorful and scenic.

The Vailretrac - the sand- based species live on a sandy planet full of beaches. They're probably the species we know about the least. Considering that their bodies are at least partially covered in sand and may be able to control it, I speculate that they might be the species of the 5yl version of Sandbox.

The Limulequus are a seahorse-like species. There's no natural abilities that I could infer from this episode, but they do seem to often use these electrically charged spear-like weapons. They're also notable three-legged.

The story of And Beyond's Zs'Skayr arc has moved on quite quickly! With the whole announcement at the end, it kinda makes me feel like And Beyond is coming to an end, which I hope isn't true. I sincerely hope that the next episode isn't the final one and that there will be more after. I do think that the finale of the current plot will happen on Prypiatos, ending where it all started and everything. It seems like 2025 is gonna be the year of finales for The Ink Tank.

I'm very excited for what's to come as it seems like it's all going to be quite grand!

[novelconcepts]

Modern AU where Jamie gets a tongue piercing and Dani has, uh, feelings about that

It is rare, Dani Clayton believes, that a single action can define a life. Rare, unlikely, prone only to situations where the action is life-or-death in and of itself, she believes. Most others are a matter of small steps leading down a long road. 

Most.

In the event of dumping Edmund O’Mara not three months before their wedding was meant to take place, those steps start to look a whole lot less small.

In the event of dumping Eddie, informing him--and his mother, and her mother shortly thereafter--that she’d done so because she didn’t love him that way, that she wasn’t sure she could love any man that way, and wasn’t entirely certain she was willing to try any longer to convince herself otherwise, those steps start to look much more like a leap.

Off a cliff.

Into thin air.

If you’re going to do it, she tells herself grimly, might as well do it the right way. Which, in some cases, might mean a fresh dye job, a flight to a distant country, the making of a wild and unreasonable purchase. In this particular case, it means looking what it means to be Danielle Clayton in the eye, turning on her heel, and doing absolutely anything else. 

The club? Packed. The music? Aggressive. Dani?

Several shots in, not nearly as drunk as she’d like, and completely out of her depth. 

Even so, there’s a lot about this experience she actually finds herself enjoying. The music, though slamming into the side of her head like a vaguely-melodic sledgehammer, is easy to dance to. The dark atmosphere of the place means she doesn’t feel as though anyone is getting a chance to really stare--or, if they are, they’re staring for good reasons. Reasons she’s never allowed herself to entertain before now.

It is, after all, the right kind of club.

If she thinks about that fact, she’s going to turn and head right back out the door, and the line had been way too long for such a casual surrender. The only choice, Dani understands, is simply not to think--not to let her nerves get the better of her, not to allow adrenaline to push her into flight mode. Not this time. 

Adrenaline, instead, becomes the thing she closes her fists around and twists to suit her needs. The thing to act as lightning in her bones, charging every inch of a woman who spent nearly thirty years play-acting in someone else’s show. The drinks help, wearing away the part of her that says she doesn’t fit here, doesn’t belong here, might have been wrong all along in telling Eddie she couldn’t do it anymore. The dancing, too, makes her feel better--makes her feel like someone new, someone with all the shine of her mother’s expectation scrubbed away. Someone who can throw her arms in the air, swivel her hips, laugh with delirious joy. 

Flirt, even. 

She can’t remember the last time she flirted with someone on purpose, but she’s certainly doing it now--with one young woman in particular. She wasn’t the first to dance with Dani--there have been a truly stunning number of women dancing with Dani, in fact, making her feel at once special and like running straight out of this club--but she is the one who has taken to it most naturally, somehow. Her eyes are bright, her curls tied back from her face, her smile the kind of charming Dani has never allowed herself to look at too closely before tonight. 

They haven’t exchanged a single word, and there’s something remarkable about that--about how easily the woman seems to read her body language, tailoring her distance according to Dani’s comfort. Unlike several of the others, this woman did not immediately push against Dani’s body, too warm, arms slinking around her waist. She did not attempt to pull Dani into herself, her hips setting a theme for the evening against Dani’s better judgement. This woman, instead, had only reached out a single hand, eyebrow arched--a silver bar punched through had caught the light and Dani’s attention at the same time--and had waited. 

Dani hadn’t quite been able to resist. Something about the woman’s grin, just this side of roguish, just this side of dangerous, had held too great an appeal. She had moved with a confidence Dani couldn’t imagine possessing, a swagger in her walk Dani hadn’t been able to look away from, and Dani thought, They’re pretty, but she is unreal. 

She looks at the woman now, at her green-gray eyes and the shade of abs beneath a cropped tank top. There are tattoos, she notes--a vine of some kind rising from the low ride of her jeans, a pattern of tiny flowers traced around her left wrist. Dani trails her fingers along those flowers now, letting her hand slide recklessly up the woman’s arm in time to the twisting beat, and wonders what else she’s hiding beneath her jacket, her jeans, her boots.

She’s never in her life allowed herself to wonder what might lurk beneath a woman’s clothes. Never in her life let herself look at the sweat skidding down a woman’s neck and wondered what it might taste like, were she to bury her face against soft skin. 

The woman is smiling, she notices with a thread of embarrassment--but it’s a good smile, as Dani wraps loose fingers around her upper arm and urges her closer. A good smile, one which teases, but doesn’t mock. This woman, with four piercings in one ear, with hands that smooth around Dani’s hips only when Dani edges in close, with eyes that watch Dani like she’s the only person in the room, is a marvel. 

Who are you, Dani asks herself, almost trembling with the simple delight of this woman’s hand twirling her around, this woman laughing when Dani slips an arm around her neck and twists brave fingers into her hair. Who are you, doing this with a stranger, with a woman, in a place like this?

Happy. A single word, enormous and bright. She’s happy, with the song under her skin, with this woman moving against her like they were cut of a single cloth. Like she understands, more than anything, Dani’s need to jam a lifetime of feeling electric into a single night. 

She kisses the woman first. It feels almost like a game of chicken, gazing into her eyes, letting her hand settle between jacket and tank top. Almost like a dare, letting her fingers dig into the woman’s shirt, pushing her nearer. Almost like a wish, her eyes skimming from the heat of the stranger’s gaze to her lips and back again. 

She kisses her, and wonders if it was always supposed to feel like this. The woman’s arm around her waist soft and strong, the woman’s lips parting for her like the next beat of a conversation--and there is something hard and warm to the kiss, a gentle curve of metal beneath her tongue. I am, she thinks dizzily, kissing a strange woman in a gay club, a woman with a tongue piercing, a woman who is kissing me like she’s never wanted to do anything else. 

She kisses this stranger, eyes closed, breath quickening as the woman’s hips push against her own, and she thinks, It wasn’t like this with him. Not once. 

Happy, as the woman leans back just enough to breathe, her forehead slick against Dani’s. Happy, as the woman’s hand trails up her neck gently enough to leave shivers in the wake of her fingertips. Happy, as the woman cups her jaw, thumb pressing just hard enough to make Dani sigh, kissing her with slow, hot wonder. 

She wonders what they look like to the others, to the women who had twisted and twirled away from her winces, her apologetic smiles, her tiny shakes of the head. How must she look now, in the arms of a woman she suddenly can’t get close enough to, her kiss hungry and hopeful, her hands digging into reckless curls.  

She hears herself panting against the woman’s ear as her head bows, as her lips trace the edge of Dani’s jaw, her kiss smooth on Dani’s neck. She’s gripping the woman’s hair, pushing her face into Dani’s throat with shameless excitement, and she hears herself say, “I’m--”

The woman raises her head, meets her eyes, shakes her head once. Dani’s heart sinks--but the woman is taking her by the hand, pulling her off the dance floor, away from the rapid-fire pulse of music. 

This isn’t me, Dani thinks, her heart in her throat. This isn’t me, as the woman guides her past the bar, past piles of writhing, necking strangers, past the line to the bathroom. This isn’t me, as the woman guides her through the back exit, out into a brick alley and the warmth of a June night. 

“Easier,” the woman says, “to hear out here. Hope that's all right.”

Dani sways, the thunder of the music and the cacophony of other people replaced by a muted ringing in her ears. The woman’s voice is soft, accented, skipping a little with breathless energy.

Dani opens her mouth, uncertain of what to say--her name, maybe, or this isn’t me, or I’ve never-- “You pierced your tongue.”

The woman’s eyes widen, a laugh rolling out of her like summer rain, and Dani feels herself go hot with embarrassment. “I did, yeah. Years back. You, ah. You like it?”

Not trusting herself, Dani only nods once, too fast to look natural. The woman takes her hands, which Dani realizes she has been wringing against the front of her skirt in nervous anticipation, and sidles closer. 

“Would it be easier,” the woman says, close enough to kiss, close enough for Dani to count the colors in her dancing eyes, “if I didn’t ask your name?”

Dani bites her lip. No, she thinks, and yes, and-- “I don’t know.”

“S’all right.” She believes her, this woman who speaks like she’s already got all the answers to a test Dani’s only just signed up to take. “We don’t have to. Can just be a pleasant memory, if you prefer.”

Dani shakes her head sharply, already leaning in again, and the woman tastes different out here. Better, somehow, without the fuzz of other people pressing close, without the tang of a sweaty crowd on the air. The woman tastes of new, of excitement, of metal and menthol, and she’s kissing Dani like she doesn’t need a name to cherish her. 

If you’re doing the thing, might as well do it right. Her back is against a brick wall, her hands pushing under the woman’s shirt, her head tossed back with the rapture of soft lips at her throat. She hears herself making a low sound through clenched teeth as the woman pulls at her hips, slides a thigh between her legs, pushes up. 

“Is there,” she gasps, one hand gripping the woman’s belt loop, one shoved into the woman’s messy hair, “is there somewhere we can--” Because this is new, this is all new and fresh and beautiful, but the idea of letting this woman fuck her against a brick wall is simply too much for a single stab into the dark. 

Those eyes look into hers, the woman’s breath hot across her lips, and she almost changes her mind. Almost yanks her back in, almost says it would be enough to ride her thigh in full view of anyone who steps out for a smoke, enough to give her anything she asks for beneath the sparse suburban stars. 

“My place isn’t far,” the woman says, her voice husky, and Dani nods, presses her forehead to the stranger’s, exhales shakily. 

The walk is quiet, her hand looped into the woman’s, and Dani feels--impossibly--free. Free to hold tighter or let her hand slip away. Free to knock into the woman’s shoulder with her own or balance along the curb as she walks. Free to look at the stars, to look at her feet, to look at the woman’s profile in the glow of the streetlights. 

“Dani,” she says. “My name is Dani.”

The woman smiles. “First night out, Dani?”

“That obvious?” She ought to be embarrassed, but the woman’s smile is still a good one. A teasing, gentle, comfortable one. 

“No,” the woman says after a moment of what is evidently legitimate consideration. “No, not obvious. Just a feeling.”

The apartment is small, clean, full of potted plants and well-loved blankets. The woman, pushing the door open, ushers Dani inside and stands back as if to say, Go on. Take it in. As if to say, I know what we came here for, but you can still back out. Her hands are in the pockets of her jacket, her posture loose, as though she isn’t thrumming with the impulse to get Dani pinned against another wall. 

Dani can’t quite relate. 

“Do you do this often?” she asks, as she moves into the woman’s arms again, as she slides her hands into the woman’s hair, liking the weight of her head cupped in Dani’s palms. The woman smiles almost sheepishly.

“Sometimes.”

“Do you know their names?” She’s kissing the edge of soft lips, feeling the woman sigh, feeling her head turn in search of Dani. There is power here, she thinks, unlike anything she’s ever felt. Power, and assertion, and desire. 

And laughter, when the woman says, “Not usually. No.”

“Honest,” Dani says approvingly, aware she’s still flirting, aware of the caress of the other woman’s hands around the back of her skirt. Her hips press forward once, and the woman grins. 

“Never tell ‘em mine, either.”

“Because you don’t want them to come calling in the morning,” Dani guesses. The woman shakes her head.

“The kind of woman I bring home rarely wants that. Easier on everyone, to keep it to skin.”

Her fingertips are tracing beneath Dani’s shirt, a light pattern up her back. Dani feels her brush the clasp of her bra almost carelessly, not even trying to unhook and remove it, and shivers. There is a warmth to the idea that this woman, for all her brazen want, is just as interested in this conversation as in getting Dani naked. 

“What if I wanted to know?” she breathes, her lips barely brushing the woman’s, watching her eyes flutter in response. “Your name. What you do when you’re not bringing strange women to bed.”

“Do you?” An honest question, she thinks, not a challenge. Strong fingers stroke down her back, tucking beneath the waistband of her skirt, resting without further pressure. Dani isn’t sure anyone has ever held her like this, standing in the living room of an apartment, waiting for her to take the lead. 

Strike that: she’s very certain no one has done this. Very certain she’d remember the intimacy of it, of hanging suspended between a kiss taken and a yes given.

“Please,” she says, leaning back just enough to look at the woman with clear eyes. That smile again, tilting crooked on pink lips. 

“Jamie. It’s Jamie.”

It’s enough, Dani decides, just to know that much. Just to know this woman, who is letting Dani kiss her, letting Dani push the jacket off her shoulders, letting Dani repeat the name against her lips, is willing to give Dani this small gift. She doesn’t have to. There’s nothing saying a one-night-stand requires names exchanged, a look beyond the curtain. Dani’s never done this before, but she’s certain of that much. 

A gift, it certainly is, and she gives herself over to it gladly. Likes the way Jamie’s kisses increase in intensity, her hands roaming under Dani’s shirt, her voice coiling into a groan when Dani experimentally rolls her tongue past Jamie’s teeth. The brush of metal elicits an unexpected heat in her, matched only by the way Jamie says her name in question as she guides the t-shirt up over her head. 

Just knowing her name has a place on this woman’s tongue is remarkable. Just tasting the woman’s name in her own mouth--two simple syllables extended in a surprised moan when Jamie presses her toward the bed, follows her down with seamless grace, her body soft and warm and willing--is remarkable. She hears herself repeat it for the simple joy of watching Jamie shiver, of feeling Jamie’s kiss grow hotter, her mouth sliding across Dani’s each time as though trying to swallow down the sound of her own name. 

The world has never been quite so vibrant as in this tiny apartment, under the warm glow of a single lamp with Jamie’s shirt pulling up her body, Jamie’s jeans unzipped under her shaking hand. The world has never offered quite so much sensation as with Jamie blanketing her, Jamie’s hands removing her bra, pushing up her skirt, mapping along the spread of her thighs. She presses up into Jamie’s kiss, hands restless on Jamie’s skin, and wonders why it took so long to open this door. 

There are more tattoos, she finds with delirious pleasure, and Jamie rolls over to allow her the freedom to inspect each. Jamie, breathing shallowly under her kiss as she traces the bracelet of flowers with the tip of her tongue. Jamie, arching into her hand as she explores the roses stamped across her ribs. Jamie, uttering a rough cry when she bites gently at the vine flourishing along her hipbone. 

More tattoos, and more soft skin, and more of Jamie’s easy, eager interest. Jamie, who rolls her over and slides the skirt off her hips, following it down with a path of long, slow kisses. Jamie, whose tongue works magic across her breasts, down her stomach, hesitating between her legs. 

Dani is nodding, and Jamie closes her eyes, presses down with a single sweet kiss that makes her feel as though she might collapse under the weight of its tenderness. It’s too much, she thinks, for this woman who has been pressing her into the mattress with firm, steady want, to be this gentle. For this woman who tells no one her name before taking them to bed, who has metal in her tongue and ink on her skin, to be this kind. 

She hears her breath sharpen, hears herself say Jamie’s name again in a voice so unlike her own, it takes her by surprise. She folds a hand across the back of Jamie’s head, pressing her in, urging her to kiss harder, to roll her tongue across the whole of Dani, and still, when Jamie complies, she jumps. Jamie raises her eyes, and Dani pushes her closer still, her heart hammering at the particular look on Jamie’s face. The particular need on Jamie’s face, as she watches, as she flicks her tongue. The metal bar brushes swollen nerves, and Dani makes an undignified noise in her throat that drags a grin across Jamie’s lips. 

Oh, Dani thinks distantly. That’s why. 

The muscles of her stomach are trembling, the muscles of her legs clutched tight, and still, she can’t tear her gaze from Jamie’s. Can’t stop watching the way Jamie’s lashes flicker against her cheeks, her head bobbing gently between spread legs, her tongue tracing and stroking, pressing and curling. There is something beyond intimacy to the way Jamie’s hands flex against her thighs, her fingers splayed, her thumb stroking up and down in time with her tongue. Something beyond seduction to the way Jamie groans against her, a simple gratification that makes her twitch under Jamie’s kiss. 

She winds her fingers tighter in Jamie’s hair, dimly aware she’s pulling, vibrantly aware of Jamie’s mouth wrapped around her. There is no speed, no dire rush, no pressure to come and be done with it. There is only Jamie taking her time, the flat of her tongue trading off with the brush of her lips, her eyes drinking in Dani’s expression all the while. 

She knows my name, she thinks with a rush of heat, and then: She told me hers. 

She’s using it almost without thinking, one hand across her own mouth, Jamie’s name staining her skin. She rocks harder, urging Jamie deeper, her voice rising as Jamie adds her fingers beneath the coaxing pressure of her tongue. 

She knows my name, she thinks again, as Jamie curls deep, as starbursts go off behind her eyes. She told me hers. 

Jamie hauls herself back up the mattress, drops down beside her with a contented sigh. Her lips glisten, her expression tinged with pride. “How was--”

Dani grasps her face in both hands, jerks her in for a kiss, their voices mingling in a muffled ring of pleasure. Dani, almost dizzy with the taste of herself in this woman’s mouth, presses a hand between them, pleased to find Jamie as eager for take as she’d been for give. 

“I want,” she says, kissing Jamie’s neck, stroking Jamie with nerveless, uncertain fingers, “to make you feel--like that. Like you--”

Jamie makes a sound of agreement, reaches down, covers her hand gently. “Try this,” she offers, and Dani’s eyes roll back at the pressure of fingers guiding her in, at Jamie showing her with a hand that shakes exactly how she likes to be touched. She gazes at Jamie’s face, at her parted lips and tight brow, watching the tension coil, watching her smile give way to soft, repeated sounds of urgency as they work in tandem. 

If you’re going to do it, do it the right way, she thinks as Jamie bucks into her hand, as Jamie’s fingers slide away, dragging up her own stomach, leaving Dani to keep up the rhythm. She presses her face onto Jamie’s pillow, lips close to Jamie’s ear, murmuring her name like a melody as Jamie’s breath catches--as Jamie’s hips jerk--as Jamie wraps a hand into her hair and pulls her close to kiss the gasp off her lips. 

“I’ve never,” she says, her hand still resting against wet skin, Jamie’s hips twitching every so often as she traces with the tips of her fingers. “Before. With a--”

“Couldn’t tell,” Jamie says. Dani raises an eyebrow in disbelief, and she grins. “Didn’t mind, then.”

“You, uh.” Distracted, she traces a light circle around Jamie, liking the heat of her. Jamie sighs. 

“Keep doing that, conversation’s gonna get tricky.”

“You sorry?” Dani asks, letting her fingers still. Jamie turns her head, eyes questioning.

“Sorry for...which part, exactly?”

“Taking me home,” Dani says. “Telling me who you are.”

“Didn’t tell you who I am,” Jamie says. Dani frowns, moves to take her hand back, wondering if she’s somehow read the woman completely wrong--and Jamie reaches down to gently grasp her by the wrist. “I told you my name,” she goes on mildly. “Who I am is a much longer story. One I...haven’t told in a while.”

Dani stretches out beside her, letting her fingers notch comfortably between Jamie’s, the join of their hands resting along Jamie’s stomach. “How long a story?”

“How much time d’you have?” Jamie asks, almost idly. Dani smiles. 

“Sort of trying something new, with all of this. I think...that means there are no rules, until I make them.”

“Well,” says Jamie, her voice thick with exhaustion. She’s curling toward Dani, bare skin and vibrant ink and muffled yawn. “Maybe if you’re still interested in the morning? Not much of a cook, but I make an impressive brew.”

She doesn’t say you don’t have to. She doesn’t say we can pretend it never happened. She only presses close into Dani, one hand curling to tuck the hair behind Dani’s ear, her fingers spreading around the back of Dani’s head in a gesture of soft support. 

She told me her name, Dani thinks, her heart in her throat as she watches sleep loosen Jamie’s features. I slept with a woman, and she told me her name, and she’s...she’s...

It is rare, she thinks as she lets her head bump Jamie’s, eyes drifting shut. Rare that a single action can define a life. It doesn’t happen often; consequences are small, tricky things. But a single action can certainly start a person walking. Off a cliff. Into thin air.

Or down a road. 

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Five: Work That Gameboy

By SisterSpooky1013 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Rated E / Read previous chapters here

Mulder arrives at work early, looking longingly at Scully’s car in the parking lot. Approaching it, he peers in the windows looking for…he isn’t sure what. Her car is, as usual, neat as a pin with no indication of where she went or why.

In his restlessness the night before, he’d thought a lot about why it bothers him so much not to know where she is or what she’s doing. If the roles were reversed, he would expect her to wait it out and trust him to take care of himself, but for some reason he’s struggling to do the same for her. He thought at first that it was her tendency to get hurt or need help, but by comparison he needs her help just as often as she needs his, so that doesn’t track. Then he thought maybe it’s that he doesn’t trust Skinner to do what’s in her best interest, but Skinner has shown a tendency to be protective of Scully on numerous occasions (and in fact Mulder strongly suspects his feelings for her go beyond the bounds of strict professionalism), so that isn’t entirely logical either. Skinner may have left him out to dry with the New Spartans, but he doesn’t believe the man would stoop low enough to treat Scully in the same manner.

In the end, he realized that it’s pretty simple; he’s just crazy about her. His protectiveness doesn’t have anything to do with how capable she is, or the situations other people might put her in, or even situations she might put herself in. He misses her, and cares so much about her that not even knowing where she is feels wrong. It feels like a piece of him is missing, and he’s not allowed to know where it is or when he’ll get it back.

After pretending to work for an hour, he sulks up to Skinner’s office and asks for a few minutes of his time. Skinner is immediately irritated, though Mulder doesn’t realize that it’s in response to him and not a preexisting condition. He stands in front of Skinner’s desk, looming over him.

“What do you want, Agent Mulder?” Skinner grumbles, not looking up from the document he’s reading.

“I’d like to know where Agent Scully is, sir.”

Skinner sighs heavily, dropping his head to his chest.

“Get out of my office, Agent Mulder,” he says in a low, menacing tone.

“Sir, I’m not asking to contact her, I would never compromise her case, I just need to at least know where she is. What if something happens and I need to find her?”

Skinner stands, looking Mulder in the eye with an intensity he’s seen on very few occasions, none of them fond memories. “Agent Mulder, Agent Scully explicitly asked me not to tell you where she is, or what she’s doing. Even if she hadn’t, I STILL would not tell you, however I hope that if you don't respect the direct orders of your superior, you might, at the very least, respect Agent Scully’s wishes. Now get the hell out of my office and do not bring this up again, understood?”

Mulder glances down and notices Scully’s keys on the desk near Skinner’s nameplate, her Apollo 11 keychain easily identifiable. He leans forward, putting his hands on the desktop, one covering the keys.

“Sir, if anything happens to her, I’ll-“

“You’ll what, Agent Mulder?” Skinner challenges him, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a show of bravado.

Mulder straightens, palming the keys as he stands, and leaves without another word.

Scully arrives at the club just before 2 pm, wearing shorts and a tank top as Angel had instructed. After stuffing her purse into a locker, she finds Angel and Tibet on the floor, which has returned to its daylight state of clean and quiet. Queenie restocks the bar while Ben fiddles with the sound system.

Tibet is up on the stage while Angel sits at the tip rail, offering pointers on a new dance Tibet is working out. Scully immediately notices that Tibet’s hair is cropped short and worn in its natural curls, and realizes she’d been wearing a wig the night before.

“So I was thinking that I could either take my top off just before or just after the first chorus, tell me which looks better, okay?” Tibet says to Angel as Scully enters and takes a seat beside her.

“Benny! Hit me with the music!” Tibet shouts, and then repeats her performance twice, revealing her breasts at a different point in the song each time. When she’s finished, she sits down on the edge of the stage in front of them and asks for their thoughts, her breasts still uncovered.

“I think the sooner the better,” Angel says. “They come here to see your body, so show it to em!”

Tibet nods. “What do you think, Desi?” She asks, stretching a smooth brown leg out to her side and leaning into it.

Scully suddenly feels entirely out of her league in terms of providing an opinion. “Uh, well, generally speaking I guess I’d say wait. You want to build some suspense, right? Make them work for it?”

Angel looks at her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t fuck on the first date, do you?” She asks with a haughty grin, and Scully’s eyes go big at the question. “I’m just messing with you, let’s get to your training!”

“Alright,” Tibet begins as though she’s done this dozens of times, tugging the straps of her shirt back over her shoulders. “So, have you ever given a lap dance before?” she asks plainly, and Scully’s cheeks flush.

“Well, kind of I guess. In college, though more as a joke than anything else. I would definitely consider myself a beginner.”

“Got it, got it,” Tibet responds. “Well, for the most part dancing is about creating a sense of intimacy. It’s fake, obviously, but the more your customer feels like you actually care about him, want him to look at you, like that he’s appreciating your body, the better you’ll do. Your stage set is just about showing yourself off and getting them curious about you. The real money comes from lap dances and VIP, and the more you can draw attention with a really great stage set, the more customers will want to spend time with you afterward. Angel is a beast on the pole and she can teach you all those tricks, but I consider myself the lap dance expert around here, so I’m gonna teach you that part.” She smiles and jumps down from the stage, pulling a chair away from one of the tables and gesturing for Scully to sit in it.

“Oh,” Scully says, and sits as instructed.

“Sometimes, when you’re on the floor, customers will flag you down or ask for you, and that’s great. But you also have to approach people, because they’ll be too shy to ask. So you might come up and do this.”

Tibet saunters towards Scully with a secretive smile on her lips, stepping so close that her thighs thread between Scully’s knees. Next she leans down, placing her hands on Scully’s shoulders and bringing her mouth to Scully’s ear.

“Would you like a dance, Baby?” she asks in a syrupy voice, and Scully feels a shiver run down her spine. Tibet backs up. “Okay, now you try.”

“You want ME to do that?” Scully clarifies, and while just asking someone if they want a lap dance should be the easiest hurdle to clear, she’s finding that it’s still an uncomfortably high one.

Angel turns her head toward the bar and calls out, “Queenie! We need some liquid courage over here!”

Queenie walks over with a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses, pouring them wordlessly before returning to her task.

Angel holds her glass up, Tibet and Scully following suit. “To new career paths,” Angel says, and Scully smiles thinly, clinking her glass with theirs and throwing back the shot with a grimace.

Three weeks. She’s been gone three weeks, and not a word from Skinner. No update, no information, though he’s stopped by a couple times and asked, drawing increasing amounts of rage from his boss. He’s finished all the paperwork, re-organized the files, cleaned and rearranged the office (only to immediately change it back) and spent hours upon hours imagining where Scully might be right now.

He kept her keys, just in case, but knows she’d be unhappy with him invading her privacy by snooping around her apartment. That’s why he waits three whole weeks before he finally does it. He has a key to her apartment and could have gone there at any point, but her personal keyring also holds the keys for her gun safe and her mailbox, which may prove helpful. After work on a Thursday, he drives by and lets himself in, the warm vanilla smell of her immediately invading his nostrils as he opens the door. He sighs deeply, pulling her into his lungs; it feels like coming home.

First he waters her plants, which are looking half dead, and makes a mental note to use watering them as the reason he came here if asked. Next he opens her gun safe, and is struck to find her service weapon holstered and tucked neatly inside with the safety on. She doesn’t have her gun? What the hell kind of assignment is this? He brings in her mail, which is no help at all, and leaves it stacked on the counter. Next he lays down on her bed, shoving his face into her pillow and breathing the smell of her shampoo for a few minutes before he has the thought to look for her overnight bag.

Scully has a go bag in the trunk of her car for emergencies, but given the opportunity she’ll use her overnight bag and pack for the weather, situation, etc. Opening her closet, he finds it on the floor near her laundry hamper, empty save for a travel size can of hairspray tucked into a side pocket. In her bathroom, he finds all her toiletries accounted for, including her toothbrush. The more he sees, the more confused he is. Even when he’d spent time undercover with dangerous individuals, he’d been allowed to bring his own toothbrush.

Moving to the hallway, he picks up her landline and dials.

“Dana?” Maggie Scully’s voice answers on the second ring.

“No, sorry, Mrs. Scully, it’s Fox Mulder.”

“I saw Dana’s name on the caller ID, is she with you?” Her voice carries worry.

“No, I’m just here at her apartment watering her plants, sorry to confuse you. Have you been in touch with Dana, Mrs. Scully?”

“No, Fox, I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She told me she had an assignment that would take her away for a while and that she’d be unreachable, but I’m a little concerned that she hasn’t contacted me yet.”

Mulder closes his eyes. “I wish I had anything to share, Mrs. Scully, but I’m in somewhat of the same boat. A.D. Skinner isn’t concerned and it does sound like he’s in touch with her, but I was hoping she might have called you.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maggie replies sadly.

“What did she tell you when she left? Did she share any information at all?” he asks hopefully.

“Um, let me think. She said she was going on an assignment and that she’d be out of touch for a few weeks. And she said she’d bring me some Tastykakes when she comes home,” she adds.

“Tastykakes, what are those?” Mulder asks, his investigative senses tingling.

“They’re a treat we always get when we go to Philadelphia; little packaged snack cakes. The kids always loved them.”

“Are they only available in Philadelphia?” he asks, heart pumping.

“I’m not sure, but that’s where we always get them,” Maggie says hopefully.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scully. That’s really helpful. I’ll let you know if I track her down, okay?”

“Thank you, Fox. Take care.”

Setting the phone back on its cradle, he does a little victory dance. It isn’t much, but it’s something. Scully is just a few hours away in the city of brotherly love.

Three weeks. It’s been three weeks of practicing stage sets and lap dances in the afternoon, serving drinks in the evening and well into the middle of the night, and then sleeping until noon. Her arms and legs bear fading bruises from her acclimation to Paul the Pole, the crooks of her elbows and knees sporting slight calluses that help her get a good grip (with an assist from the grip powder Angel has instructed her to use). She’s given Tibet and Angel dozens of lap dances each, the other standing by to coach her on making sure one foot stays on the floor. After three weeks, she found that her barriers were mostly in her head. Once she was able to let go and just move, she’s actually pretty good at it.

That day she arrives in pink cotton shorts and a white tank top, now so used to being scantily clad that it no longer makes her self-conscious, and prepares to do a full dress rehearsal of the routine she worked up with Angel’s help. Queenie and Ricky sit down to observe what is more or less a test of her readiness, and one she intends to pass. Where she would have expected to feel nervous, she’s excited, ever the eager student motivated to impress and exceed expectations. Ben kills the daytime lights to make it look and feel like it would if they were open, and her set begins.

Moving onto the stage, she can barely see her audience with the bright lights trained on her. She quickly gets lost in the movements she rehearsed, feeling graceful as she circles the pole and hitches an arm around it, spinning in a feathery arc. When the point in the dance comes to remove her shirt, she does so as a well practiced step in a strategy, without any feelings of exposure. Soon enough her bra follows suit and she is left with only her tiny pink shorts, nipples hardening as they graze the pole. The undulation of her hips, the pop of her booty out towards the audience, the slip of a hand down the inside of her thigh; they’re each a part of the method. Precisely planned and executed in much the same way as she might dismantle and clean her gun, or prepare a slide for the microscope. It isn’t much different than performing an autopsy, she had reasoned. Except instead of: Y incision, open rib cage, remove organs, examine stomach contents, collect specimens, examine brain, it’s: arch back, grasp breasts, spread legs, thrust pelvis, rub thighs, grind on the pole. She’s always found her strength in taking a clinical, detached approach to difficult tasks, and that turns out to be just as effective on the stage as it is in the lab.

As she finishes, her small audience erupts into applause, standing in ovation as Ben brings the house lights up halfway. Scully smiles shyly, stepping down to join them on the floor as Ricky approaches her and slings an arm around her bare shoulders.

“That was fucking fantastic, Desi. Sexy as fuck. Let me see you do a lap dance now.”

Continue Reading

[writingbakery]

“so hard to ignore ya’ [‘specially when im smoking, swim]”

title & slight inspiration from swim, by chase atlantic. a very nasty lil threeway i’ve reworked to fit new characters, enjoy ✨ taglist; @lady-bakuhoe @katsukisprincess @burnedbyshoto @redbeanteax @theleaningtowerofpizazz @mothwithteeth @bakugou-katsukisgf @lordexplosionsextra @deadassqueeraf 

[pairing; katsuki bakugou x fem!reader x eijiro kirishima]

[warnings; mentions of drugs & alcohol, rough sex, threesome, degrading language, shotgunning, semi-public sex, car sex, everyone is sober enough to consent]

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

you’ve always been a handful.

insatiable, unstoppable, over energetic with a refractory period so short it almost hurt & a smile that made everyone weak in the knees.

a handful.

you’re a shameless flirt, all sultry glances & hooded eyes to whoever managed to pique your interest. you’re a bar fairy to the tips of your toes, flitting from spot to spot with a mouthful of cheap liquor & a goal in mind; someone to take home.

most of your little conquests end up being one night stands, something you’re not ashamed of; you like sex, & sex likes you. you’re young, pretty, & having fun, nothing wrong with that. but most of your chosen partners don’t last more than a night, don’t have the drive nor the stamina to keep up with you, & it’s starting to wear a little on your resolve.

you’re not expecting to marry any of your little trysts, obviously not, but having them stick around for more than a great night & a sloppy morning handjob would be nice. still, you think, it could be worse.

you could be stuck in a dry spell.

you make your way over to one of your favorites, the infinity lounge & bar, to try your luck for the night; you know you’re gonna score, but you like to make a game of it.

tonight’s objective is clear, even with the two quick vodka shots & half drunk beer in your system - you’ve always been good about holding your liquor. you’re gonna find the hottest guy in here, & you’re gonna fuck his brains out.

simple.

there’s rules to the game, still. you can’t make it too easy, or too hard. the game’s no fun if you win too fast, & it’s no fun with blue balls.

you scan the surrounding crowd, eyes jumping from face to face. rule number one; not too much bigger than you. you prefer lean, corded strength, the hidden challenge of drawing that roughness out of them. it’s also just safer, makes it easier to escape an… unpleasant situation.

rule number two; not too shitfaced. you were a firm believer in consent, no matter what, & you definitely don’t want to clean puke out of your more tender areas - one awful night had confirmed that it wasn’t a good feeling.

rule number three; no experiments. stick to the comfort zone, the things you like. waking up regretful is never the goal.

your eyes rest on a tattooed, tanned shoulder; trailing up to a cut jaw, a sunshine smile, & a face that could melt stone, even with the piercings poking through his nose, lip & eyebrow. a perfect combination of sexy & sweetheart. you smirk.

objective spotted.

you slip through the crowd like water, fluidly weaving between sweaty, moving bodies until you’re right in front of mr. sunshine-and-tattoos, smile soft & demure.

“hi!” you call, stand on tiptoe to be heard over the music & bless him, sunshine just wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you in gently to be able to hear you. you bite your lip, eyes softened just so as you ask the taller man to dance, & you can see it in the appreciative look you get in kind, the simple, smiling nod.

you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger already, & you haven’t even started.

turning so that you’re flush against the other’s solid chest, you wiggle a little, half to adjust & half to tease, before letting the music overtake you. sunshine brings large, warm hands to rest on the bare skin at your waist, & he smirks at nothing in particular.

and then you start dancing.

you know these particular ripped jeans are serving you well, ass cupped tight & snug by the fabric & the fishnets underneath give you a little edge. the cropped shirt you’d tied just above your belly button exposes soft skin that sunshine seems to love having his hands on, & you thank whatever god might be listening for body shimmer lotion, the tops of your breasts glimmering in the low bar light.

you look delicious. sunshine definitely wants to eat you.

you start off slow, don’t wanna overdo it: grinding is an art form, & you are a master. you push back in time with the bass, hips swaying just so, & sunshine’s grip tightens.

perfect.

using that as a green light, you bend, ass up perfectly against the others crotch as you sway & grind to the music. sunshine is appreciative, keeps you close & tugs you up by the hips after a few heady minutes. he's got his lips just under your ear, pressing little hot, open mouthed kisses to the skin there & you simply lean back, expose more & more skin to be kissed.

it’s like the entirety of the dance floor has slimmed down to just the two of you, hot & heavy & just fucking right & all you can feel are hands on your waist & lips on your skin, the music pouring through every inch of you. it’s addictive, hooking.

perfect.

the song melts into another, then another, until your skin glistens with sweat & you can feel sunshine’s hardness pressed up against the curve of your ass. you take a breath, steady yourself before pulling away, lacing your fingers in the taller man’s & leading him away from the noisy crowd.

“i’m [[y/n],” you finally say, a satisfied little smirk on your lips. sunshine’s passed all the tests so far, & you’re eager to take him home.

“i’m kirishima, kirishima eijiro, & i really, really wanna smoke you out,” the other replies, a lazy smile mirroring yours & it makes you a little weak in the knees.

just a little. not that you’d tell him that.

instead, you cock his head, the portrait of innocence at eijiro’s remark. “oh really? you got a good dealer?” you ask coyly, & usually you don’t smoke with strangers, but you’re feeling a little adventurous tonight.

“the best,” eijiro promises, his smile growing ever wider. “he’s a friend of mine.”

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

eijiro’s dealer friend ends up being in the lot just behind the club, finishing up a quick exchange & you let the taller man lead the way. in the glint of the moonlight you admire him properly, eye the lean muscles of his arms through his sleeveless tank & the dark swirls of ink decorating them. you’re too busy watching the way his lip piercing reflects the sheen of the streetlights to realize you’ve stopped walking, picture it catching along your clit—

you pull yourself out of those thoughts. not yet.

the game’s still going.

you’ve got the upper hand right now, have the whole night & you trail a slim hand up eijiro’s spine, feel him shiver at the touch. you like winning.

and then eijiro’s dealer steps out of the car, & you stop breathing for a second.

if eijiro is sunshine & sex, this man is downright sin.

broody looking & angry, he’s dressed a little more polished than eijiro, a leather jacket accompanied by ripped black jeans & a matching t-shirt. even with all the clothes, you can see the beginnings of colorful tattoos at his neck, dipping past the collar of his shirt & sprawling over his large hands.

beside him, eijiro smirks. you pull yourself together.

“katsuki!” eijiro cheers, slinging an arm around the other’s neck. the slightly shorter, yet broader man just scowls playfully, shoving off his arm & rolling his eyes.

“you saw me this morning, eiji, fuck off,” he says good naturedly, before his eyes drift over to you. “new friend?”

“of sorts,” eijiro smirks, slips a hand in your back pocket & you’ve got the presence of mind to blush a little, play it coy. katsuki just smirks, expression mirroring eijiro’s before he opens the back door to his truck - nice & roomy, you think - & waves a hand.

“in that case, mind if i join? i’ve got the good shit, & it’s on me,” he offers, & the innuendo just brings more heat to your face. you’re a little out of your element, a little off-balance; you can handle two men just fine, but two men this ungodly handsome is a little overwhelming.

still, the thought of fucking the both of them high, in the back of a truck, is the culmination of several of your wet dreams, & you easily follow eijiro inside.

the seats are plush leather, wide & spacious & you find yourself right between them, eijiro’s hand on your thigh & katsuki’s leg against your own. you watch as katsuki deftly rolls two neat, fat blunts, the smell of the weed strong in the air.

eijiro gets the first hit, the easy flick of a lighter filling the backseat with hazy smoke & you’re in awe at the way his cheeks hollow out, accentuating his already sharp jawline. he slips it to you next, holds it to your mouth & finally, you think, a little smirk hovering at the corners of your mouth. you can get a leg up.

pouting your lips out just so, you take the blunt between them easily, hollow out your cheeks as you suck in the smoke & you know you look a sight, cheeks a little flushed, hair swept over your forehead & your mouth pouted over the blunt so pretty. you lean back when you exhale, send a few even smoke rings up & you’ve got their full attention now, katsuki’s hand slipping up your leg to rest on your other thigh.

katsuki takes the blunt next, eyes never leaving eijiro’s as he inhales & it’s like some silent sort of agreement, some unspoken deal. you repress the shiver you get when eijiro smiles down at you, a little predatory, a little hungry.

they finish the first blunt with nothing more than a few lingering stares, eijiro & katsuki never moving their hands from your thighs & you’re already feeling floaty, a little loose, but still coherent.

katsuki sparks up the second blunt but pauses before he passes it to you, cups your jaw in one hand gently to tilt your head up. “inhale & hold it, baby,” he murmurs, but his voice is firm & low; it isn’t a question.

you do as you’re told, suck in the smoke & keep your mouth closed as katsuki turns your head towards eijiro with the same hand, gentle but firm. “hold it in baby, that’s right. give it to eijiro, like a good girl,” he says, right in your ear & you nearly whine at the proximity. you press your mouth to eiji’s without questioning, let the taller lick into your mouth easily & suck all the smoke from you with another small whine. your cheeks are flushed when eijiro pulls away to blow it out, lips pouted in the foggy interior.

katsuki smirks.

“what, baby? not enough for you? come here,” & he’s taking a slow drag off the blunt before tugging you closer, slotting your mouths together & breathing in the smoke. you can barely focus on exhaling, mouth turning up into another pout as katsuki pulls away & you whine again, high & needy in the back of your throat. eijiro slips his arms around your waist then, pulls you back into his lap & leans against the door of the truck to mouth at your neck softly.

“tell us what you want, baby,” he mumbles into your heated skin, katsuki watching you both. he’s got his hands on your thighs while eijiro slips cool fingers under your shirt, flicking over your nipples through your mesh bra to make you whine again.

“want you, both of you,” you whine out, back arching at eijiro teasing touch, & katsuki snaps.

pushing forward to crowd you against eijiro’s chest, katsuki kisses you hard, lips pressed together like he can’t get enough of you. one hand rests at the back of your neck, forcing your head up to lick into your mouth easily, eijiro nipping & sucking down the length of your throat to make you whine into katsuki’s mouth. you’re trapped between them, rutting your hips up against katsuki’s & back into eijiro’s lap as you kiss, sloppy & heady & wet.

eijiro lets you rut between them for a little, lets you work yourself up until you’re whining & whimpering against katsuki’s lips, silently asking for more. he presses down on your waist with one hand, the other deftly undoing the button of your jeans. katsuki pulls off of your mouth just long enough to help eijiro wiggle your jeans down, a low growl building in his throat at the sight of you on eijiro’s lap in just fishnets, no panties.

“naughty, aren’t we? someone wanted to get fucked tonight,” katsuki hums, pressing lightly against your already soaked cunt with the palm of his hand, chasing down your moans with his mouth once more. “prep her,” he tells eijiro over the top of your head, tossing him a little bottle of lube from the glove compartment before kissing him, a little wet & messy before kissing you again.

eijiro slicks his fingers up, traces around your swollen clit once, twice before pressing inside you with his middle finger, groaning low at the feeling of your tight heat around him. “next time i’m eating you out,” he swears under his breath, & katsuki mumbles his agreement as he swallows your moans & whimpers, tongue licking into your mouth relentlessly.

you like the sound of a “next time”, moan a little louder into katsuki’s mouth as you fumble with his jeans & he takes pity on you, helps you kick them down so you can palm at his cock, hard & heavy in his boxers. “i wanna fuck her first,” he tells eijiro, voice rough as you squeeze his cock in one hand & you whine at that, like that they're talking about you like you’re not there.

“gonna fuck her loose & sloppy for me?” eijiro teases, pressing in a second finger just to hear you moan, & katsuki grins.

“of course, eiji,” he smirks, leans over you to kiss him again, making you whine between them.

“what, baby? you not getting enough attention? you've got your hands on my cock & eijiro’s fingers inside you, don’t be greedy,” katsuki chastises & you just whine, hot & needy.

eijiro’s got three fingers pressed inside you by the time katsuki’s rolled on a condom, kicking off his jeans & slicking himself up. he’s got the hem of his shirt caught between his teeth, eyes dark with want & you arch in pleasure, eijiro’s fingers just barely brushing against your sweet spot as he scissors you open. you’re so gone you can barely register yourself begging, a steady stream of “please please please” slipping past your lips as eijiro pulls out his fingers, shifting you lower on his lap to help katsuki line up with your slick hole.

katsuki’s big, cock long & thick & wet with lube as he pushes in, slowly sinking into you with a low groan. eijiro kisses him over your shoulder, rubs gentle circles into your hips to ease you both into it, little whines filling the smoky air.

katsuki’s patient though, alternates between kissing eijiro & whispering praises into your ear - “doing so well for me, sweetheart, taking me so well, such a good girl” - until you’re ready for katsuki to move, pushing back against his cock with another needy whimper. katsuki’s hips don’t slow after that, slamming into you so forcefully the car shakes, windows fogged & steamy.

he’s cursing & moaning under his breath, hips slapping against the fat of your ass with every thrust & eijiro’s got his hands all over your body, caressing your nipples, toying with your clit, pinching your hips. he’s muttering a steady stream of praise in your ear, mouthing kisses along your flushed skin - “you’re taking katsuki’s cock so well, princess, gonna come? come on katsuki’s cock, sweetheart, so i can fuck you” - & you’re barely holding on, nails digging into katsuki’s clothed back & messy whimpers escaping you with every thrust.

katsuki stops, pushes your legs up close to your chest & thrusts hard, cock hitting your sweet spot head on & you keen, eyes rolling back in your head as you come all over his cock, legs twitching as katsuki fucks into you harder. your walls clench up as you cum & you milks katsuki’s cock, whine into his mouth as he kisses you & his hips still, stuttering into you as he comes in the condom. eijiro kisses katsuki through it, peppers little bites onto your shoulder until katsuki’s pulling out, tying off the condom & pulling you against his chest to let eijiro sit up.

they switch positions easily, you on katsuki’s chest as he leans against the door & eijiro kneeling between your spread legs, hands massaging your ass cheeks gently. “think you can take me, baby? not too sore?” eijiro checks, & it makes something inside you go warm, a little soft. you nod quickly, turning so that you can kiss eijiro over your shoulder. “want you too,” you whine, wiggling your ass for extra emphasis, & eijiro just laughs as he tugs open his jeans.

katsuki kisses you softly when eijiro pushes in, keeps your legs spread for him to make the press in easier. it stings a little, your body over-sensitive but you like it, kissing katsuki until eijiro’s fully inside. you push back against him almost immediately, whimpering a little against katsuki’s lips until eijiro starts fucking you in earnest, hands tight on your hips.

if katsuki was quiet when you fucked, low moans & growls, then eijiro is mouthy. he doesn’t stop praising you, keeps pressing kisses to your sweaty skin & whispering “good girl, such a good girl, so pretty like this baby, fucked open on my cock” & it only makes your orgasm build faster. the familiar tightness pools in your stomach, makes your whines even more desperate & katsuki’s pressing kisses wherever he can reach, eyes stuck on where eijiro’s cock keeps disappearing inside you.

it’s all too much & not enough at once, & you’re whimpering once, twice, three times before you come all over eijiro’s cock & katsuki, slumped over the other man’s body as eijiro keeps fucking you. it doesn’t take the taller much longer to come, the tight heat of your walls & the breathy, whiny little moans sending him right over the edge as he spills into the condom.

you’re boneless, fucked into a soft sort of haziness & there’s tears in your eyes - good ones, definitely good ones - as the pair of them sit you up, wiping you down & cooing in your ear about how good you were, how pretty & perfect. they pull your jeans back on, tuck your shirt down before pulling their own pants back on. katsuki is the first to speak, voice low & soft.

“you guys wanna get milkshakes? there’s a 24 hour diner around the block,” he asks, & you can see the hint of a blush on his cheeks, a little shyness to his smile like he wasn’t fucking you senseless twenty minutes prior.

eijiro stretches behind you, the bright smile back full force on his face. “i’m down, i’ll pay. since you so generously smoked us out for free,” he smirks, & you can’t help your giggle.

“let’s do it,” you find himself agreeing, a smile of your own creeping onto your lips, & they both smile back at you, a mess of limbs & sweaty bodies on cool leather.

this definitely wasn’t how you saw your night going, you think as you all squeeze into a booth at the diner ten minutes later, katsuki by the window with an arm around your waist, eijiro at the end doing the same. they squish you in between them, kiss at your flushed cheeks & coo over you as they flick through a menu & yeah, you really didn’t see this coming.

i definitely won, you think smugly when eijiro feeds you the cherry off his shake, katsuki darting forward to lick the whipped cream off your lips.

definitely.