#at least I haven't unraveled it yet

[seyaryminamoto]

From what I remember in your story, even taking Iroh's initial biases into account I thought part of his intense hostility leading up to his report to Ozai was that he was truly convinced that Azula's true nature was either no better or even significantly worse than Ozai's due to the Iroh's suspicions arc. Azula herself told Sokka she was worried that by throwing him of the trail of their relationship that she may have brought the worst out of him. Honestly this was probably my favorite exploration of their conflict, because if they were truly able to trust each other and talk they could have avoided so much pain and trouble, but both of them over the course of the story had developed genuine and/or biased reasons not to trust one another and viewed themselves as doing the right thing despite their actions ultimately resulting in the worst outcome. Azula was trying to prevent a known adversary from having ammunition to ruin their lives and future plans, and Iroh believed that he was essentially hindering the fire nation by turning what he thought were essentially two Evil Ozais with a good relationship with one another into enemies. I can't lie that I'm not slightly disappointed that in the latest chapter that this aspect of their conflict wasn't brought up more explicitly in the conversation with Zuko when Iroh was talking about his biases. Was I personally thinking that the dynamic was more significant than it actually was or is that dynamic being saved for a future conversation Iroh may have with Sokka and Azula?

Uuuuuh, as for the last question... I don't really know if I'll bring it up some more since I do think I've had Iroh acknowledge why and how he fucked up in that respect in the past + exteriorized that if Azula had acted differently he might just have done it too? Am I crazy for thinking so? Did I write that or didn't I? That's a complicated game to play when you're almost at 5 million words of a story... 🤣

Azula and Iroh miiiight have one more conversation in the future and maybe this will come up there, but I haven't written it yet so I won't make any promises on that front. Admittedly, I don't expect their future encounter to be particularly fruitful. Iroh is 100% genuine in what he has understood and learned, though, that can't be denied and I always have hoped to portray him not as a super wicked villain but as a character who thinks he understands far more than he actually does, with motivations that push him into making mistakes he very much comes to regret.

This being said, the Azula-Iroh and Zuko-Ozai parallels in this story are and always have been 100% intentional. Those two tugs-of-war have been going on forever, and the crux of them was very much the fact that Azula and Iroh distrusted and second-guessed and suspected each other soooo much... because they have similar natures, similar thought processes, and they're both intellectual, suspicious, hiding what's REALLY going on underneath the surface, and immediately wary when they recognize all those traits in each other too. Likewise, Zuko and Ozai have some REALLY ugly parallels and one of those parallels, already given away by the chapter you sent this ask over, is going to be the driving force of the conflict between those two, much as a similar thing was the driving force between Iroh and Azula, in its own way: the more they fight to push the other away, the harder they reject the other, the more they end up embodying the flaws they see in that other person, to an extent where they could do absolutely TERRIBLE things just out of wanting to push the other one as far away as possible.

So yeah, the point was never for Iroh to feel like some sadistic mustache-twirling villain who wanted Azula to suffer just for shits and giggles. He had his reasons to do what he did. Doesn't mean he was right. Doesn't mean he should've done it. What it means is it made sense in his head due to his biases, the information he had at hand at the moment, and the particularly awful relationship he had with Azula. Likewise, Azula's rejection of Iroh back in "Iroh's suspicions" caused her uncertainty and anguish because she KNEW she had taken it too far. She was afraid of the consequences. A part of her KNEW that if she acted differently, there was a chance, however slim, that Iroh might not have made the choice he did. And that's why this is such a messed up situation! :')

Ultimately, I want my characters to have motivations that just... add up. That can be traced. That, upon looking at their actions and choices, anyone can go "oh yeah, this is why they did whatever they did". This is good when it comes to establishing ultimate goals, and it's also good when you want to put characters to the test: how far are they willing to go, what are they ready to do to achieve whatever they're trying to achieve? How much are they willing to sacrifice for it? And the answers to those questions can be VERY extreme and painful. Just so, we can find characters who decide to back down and simply surrender over their goals when they realize that there are other things that matter more. But it's a manner of game a writer plays when it comes to gauging and figuring out what a character wants vs. needs, what a character will fight for and what it will take for them to surrender, and so on. Fundamentally, that's how I built up Iroh and Azula's chaotic dynamic. Whatever comes from that in the future, ultimately, their biggest problem may just be that they were just too smart for their own good, tried to outsmart each other a little too much, and never allowed themselves to just... accept each other properly. They came close to it once, yes! But... they failed. And it's depressing as hell, but complicated characters will always be challenging this way...

[velvetures]

Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.

So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.

So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!

Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))

I Knew, Sweetheart

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.

John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.

Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.

Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.

You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.

A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.

John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.

At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.

Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.

God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.

Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.

Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.

“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”

He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”

Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.

He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.

John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.

“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.

You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.

“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.

“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.

“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.

Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.

“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.

“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.

“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”

“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”

“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”

His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.

John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.

In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.

“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.

Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.

Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.

“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.

“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.

“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.

“Give me hand, Captain?”

He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.

The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.

“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.

“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.

His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.

John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable

With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.

Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.

“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”

His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.

John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.

Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.

Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.

“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.

“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.

Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.

God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.

Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.

“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”

Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.

“Please, I want this. I want you John.”

Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.

“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.

Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.

“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.

Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.

Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.

Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.

“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.

You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.

“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.

You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.

He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.

Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.

Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.

“I love you, John. More than anything.”

He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“You’re my best friend.”

He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.

“You’re mine too.”

yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.

[supercorpkid]

Would it really kill you if we kissed? Part 2

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Kara Danvers x B!D!Reader, Alex Danvers x B!D!Reader, Lena Luthor x Reader, Esmé Danvers

Word Count: 3010

Previously on part 1. Part 2 of 3.

You start spending more time with Esmé, filling your days with her endless energy and her excitement over everything new on this island. You’d planned on being here for the family time anyway, but lately, it’s become easier to dodge Kara’s concerned glances and Lena’s quiet observations. Esmé, at least, never asks questions you’re not ready to answer.

It doesn’t stop Kara from trying, though. You find yourself slipping out of family dinners early, ducking behind palm trees when you spot her coming your way, feigning sleep when she knocks on your door at night. You know it’s getting obvious—Kara’s face fell when you bailed on last night’s dinner, and Alex’s knowing sigh was almost loud enough to break through the silence you’ve wrapped around yourself. But would they even understand if you told them?

Esmé’s simpler. When you’re with her, it’s just fun, silly games and laughter that doesn’t get weighed down by questions. For now, you let yourself hide behind that. That is until Esmé notices, of course. Kids always do, with that unfiltered clarity adults forget to keep.

It catches you by surprise when the two of you are building sandcastles, the sun heavy and warm, and she says, “I miss hanging out with Aunt Kara and Aunt Lena together. You know, like… like we used to.”

You tense, your hands pausing mid-sculpt. “They’re busy with grown-up stuff. It happens.”

Esmé gives you a look, so knowing it’s almost painful. “You’re a bad liar.”

You sigh, brushing sand from your fingers. “I guess I am.”

“Is it because of that thing you can't tell Aunt Kara, but you can tell my mom?”

It takes you by surprise, the perceptiveness of it, the way she’s pinpointed exactly what’s unraveling between you and your sisters without even understanding why. You swallow, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Sort of.”

“I wish I had a sister. If I did, I'd tell her everything! And she would be my best friend!”

"Well, your mom is my best friend and she is my sister too."

She spares a look over her shoulder, to Kara on the other side of the beach swimming alone in the ocean. "I bet Aunt Kara feels lonely."

It’s… whoa. A lot more insightful than you'd expect from a six-year-old.

Kara’s attempts to reach you haven’t gone unnoticed. She’s patient, but only for so long, and it’s clear to everyone around you that you’re holding her at arm’s length.  But what's worse is that you avoid Alex too, because you don't wanna tell her what happened. She's gonna tell you that you missed your chance to come clean, which is obvious and yet extremely unhelpful. 

It’s so evident you're keeping your distance, that when Lena finds you sneaking behind a bush one evening, she doesn’t even act surprised.

"Hey!" Lena’s voice makes you jump, her warm presence somehow amplifying your guilt. "Why are you hiding behind a bush? And why does it feel like I haven't seen you in days?"

"What? It hasn't been days." It has. She raises her eyebrows, and you smooth your hands over your clothes. "I thought I saw a hedgehog," you lie, forcing a smile. She doesn’t look convinced. "What are you up to?"

"I thought you and I could go on a walk," she says, her smile soft, irresistible. You’re about to argue, but she throws a cheap shot. "You know, you did promise me some alone time."

"Did I?" You try a joke, but, as with the last few attempts, it doesn’t quite land with her.

"You don’t have to come if you're more interested in the hedgehog. I could probably hold my own against the wild animals in the forest."

"Yeah, I’m sure you can, but I’d hate to miss you fighting a snake, so I might as well tag along. Wouldn’t want to miss the show."

"Very kind of you, darling." Lena’s eyes light up with humor, and the two of you start toward the nearest forest trail. It’s close to the resort—too close for any real wildlife, which is probably the point.

The conversation is supposed to be casual, just friends catching up. She asks about your thesis, even a few things about your superhero life. But as relaxed as it should be, you can’t shake the tension simmering beneath the surface. Every laugh, every shared glance, every tiny silence, and you’re swallowing feelings, nearly choking on unsaid words. Your heartbeat drums in your ears, terrified that one slip-up could give everything away.

"Kara is so thrilled to have you to share these experiences with. I bet it’s lonely, having to figure out this superhero lifestyle on your own."

"I don’t think I’m helping that much, to be honest. I’m just… following her lead most of the time."

"I think you're more important than you give yourself credit for." Lena touches your arm, her eyes soft and unwavering, making it impossible to shrug it off. "For everyone, not just Kara."

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” You mutter the words with such disbelief that Lena almost flinches.

She doesn’t let it go, though. She stops, making you pause too, her expression puzzled but determined.

"Y/N, darling." Just one word—darling—and your heart is pounding, each beat a tiny betrayal. "You know I mean it, right? We wouldn’t miss hanging out with you so much if you weren’t—"

"So fun to have around!" you cut in, your voice unnaturally bright.

Lena reaches for your hand, her gaze softening in a way that makes it impossible to hide. "If you weren’t so incredibly special."

This is it—the moment you could be honest, vulnerable, bare open like she is. But Kara might be in love with her. And she’s probably in love with your sister too, because who would choose you over Kara? No one. Not even you.

So you bite your tongue, force a smile, and watch the moment slip past. “Yeah, I—I don’t know. Maybe the superhero life just isn’t for me.”

“Oh.” Lena blinks, visibly thrown, and when you realize what you’ve just said, it’s too late. Can’t take it back. You’ve tried so hard to hide how you feel about her, you didn’t even think about the other secrets you need to protect.

“Not that I’ll stop!” you rush to reassure her. “I’d never stop supering and leave Kara to it. I just… wonder, sometimes. But, um, everyone wonders about things they’ll never act on, right?”

You can feel Lena’s gaze linger on you as you stumble through your words. Her silence feels weighty, loaded with questions she doesn’t voice. Instead, she’s watching you with that careful, gentle look she has—the one that makes you feel like she can see straight through every defense you’re barely managing to hold up.

“Y/N,” Her voice is low, softer than usual, and you can tell she’s choosing her words carefully. “If you ever feel like talking… Really talking, I mean—I’ll listen, you know that, right?”

You breathe deep, trying to keep your expression neutral, but the way she’s looking is too much; she’s seeing right through you, and every instinct you have screams to deflect, to put distance between you and that sharp, all-seeing gaze.

“I know, Lena. I just—” You pause, forcing the words clawing up your throat back down, swallowing hard against the sting of tears that threaten to break free. “I don’t have much to say right now, but… thank you.”

Her fingers brush down your arm slowly, lingering for a split second before letting go. She doesn’t push, but there’s something in her eyes, something searching, that leaves you feeling bare. She’s not fooled, you know that. But she doesn’t press further, only offers a soft nod.

“I just want to make sure you know that you’re not alone.” Her voice is so gentle, it makes your throat tighten.

Her words land with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of exactly how not alone you actually are—and yet, how impossible it feels to share any of it. You swallow, nodding a little too quickly, desperate to end this before you give yourself away completely.

“I appreciate it,” you mumble, unable to meet her eyes. “Anyway, uh… we should head back before it gets dark.”

A tiny smile curves her lips, one filled with patience, and it only makes the weight in your chest feel heavier. She sees through you, sees the things you’re too afraid to say. And as you walk back, her presence beside you is both comforting and unbearable, the knowledge that she’d listen if you let her like a gentle but relentless pressure against the wall you’re so intent on keeping up.

When you finally reach the resort, you mumble something about needing to freshen up before dinner, ducking away before she can say anything else. But her words stay with you, lingering in the back of your mind: you’re not alone.

Even though you've never felt as lonely and isolated as you do now.

This trip, this whole thing, was a really bad idea.

You throw together your bag in a rush, moving faster than any human eye could see. This trip was supposed to be a break, a chance to breathe—but with each day, it feels like the land on this tiny island is getting even smaller. There’s nowhere left to hide, and the weight of your secrets presses harder, threatening to escape the moment you open your mouth. It almost did with Lena, so you desperately need to leave.

You knock lightly on Alex and Kelly’s door, hoping not to wake Esmé. It’s late, but Alex answers quickly, slipping out into the hall and shutting the door quietly behind her. She gives you a concerned once-over, her expression softening in that big-sister way.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers. “Lena said you two hung out before dinner, but then you didn’t show up—”

“I’m going back to National City.” You say it quickly, barely letting the words settle before you look away, as if that might make it easier. Alex’s eyes shift down to your bag, and she lets out a long, disappointed sigh.

“You can’t keep running forever, you know.”

“No, but I can tonight.” You set your jaw, bracing yourself. Alex is going to try to talk you out of this, and you can’t let her. “I’ll help keep watch over National City with J’onn and M’gann. Say goodbye to Esmé for me.”

“Absolutely not. You want to leave her, you tell her yourself.” She opens the door a fraction, enough for you to glimpse Esmé’s little sneakers by the bed, and you feel something twist painfully in your chest. She knows it’ll be harder for you to look Esmé in the eye, to break your promise of a trip full of fun with her favorite aunt. “Man up.”

“Sexist,” you mutter, half-heartedly, as you step inside. But before you can call for Esmé, you freeze. Kara is sitting on the floor, her gaze sharpening the moment she sees you.

“You’re leaving?” She stands up, arms crossed, and in that moment, she doesn’t look much like your sister—she looks every inch of Supergirl, unyielding. Kelly clears her throat, mumbling something about checking on Esmé before slipping out of the small living room.

“Yeah, I have this… thing.”

“Is this ‘thing’ called a massive crush on Lena that you’re too scared to deal with?” Kara’s voice is quiet but piercing, an eyebrow arching as she studies you, making you feel as transparent as glass. “Or is this ‘thing’ a problem you’ve got with me?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot everything has to be about you.”

Before you can get another word out, she’s right in front of you, moving faster than even you expected.

“It’s becoming about me because you keep dodging me and shutting everyone out,” she says firmly. “You have to stop running, Y/N. Why won't you deal with your problems like an adult?”

“Oh my God! Is there a version of this conversation where you don’t sound like my mother?”

“I don't know. Is there a version where you don’t sound like a moody teenager?” She fires back, voice sharp as a blade.

"Go to hell, Kara," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing full well she’ll catch every word. You try to push past her, but she steps in your way, resolute, daring you to challenge her. Fine. If she wants a fight, you’ll give her one.

“Stop acting so tough,” you say, each word sharp and unyielding. “You’re not Alura. You’re not Eliza. You’re not even my oldest sister.” You pause, just long enough to let it sink in, to make sure she feels the sting. "You don’t get to act like you’re in charge."

Kara flinches, just a fraction, but you catch it. And part of you hates that it hurts her—almost as much as the rest of you wants it to.

A hand catches your arm as you make to leave, and you know it’s Alex without even looking. Her grip isn’t harsh, but it’s inflexible, the quiet authority of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.

“This has gone too far.” she says, her voice low.

“Alex,” you say, a warning lacing your tone. But your sister doesn’t budge. She’s as immovable as Kara in her own way, and you can tell from her stance that she’s done letting this slide.

“No. You tell her now, or I will.” The seriousness in her voice roots you to the spot, and you stare at her in disbelief. “Don’t test me, Y/N. This has gone on too long.”

“Alex,” you plead, the warning fading, replaced by something that feels like betrayal. “I trusted you.”

But Alex’s stance only hardens. She glances at Kara, crossing her arms in front of her chest, each movement deliberate, telling you in no uncertain terms that this is the line she won’t let you cross.

“You want to know what’s going on?” your voice comes out loud, it's almost a yell in the quiet of the night, voice cracking as you throw the question back at them, your fists clenched so tight they’re shaking. “Fine. Let’s do this. You want honesty? Here it is.”

Kara and Alex fall silent, but they’re staring, eyes wide. You can’t tell if they're surprised or concerned, and for once, you don’t care.

“I’m in love with Lena,” you spit out, practically choking on the words. “There it is. Happy? But it doesn’t matter, because she’s yours, Kara. Everyone is. Everyone who matters, everyone I could ever care about, they’re all yours.”

“I don't—” Kara starts, but you’re not finished. Not even close.

“Don’t!” you snap, cutting her off. “You have no idea what it’s like to be around you, day after day, having to act like it doesn’t kill me. Watching you looking at her like… Like I do. And I just—” Your voice wobbles, a tremor of frustration bubbling up with the tears you’re fighting to keep down. “I just get to stand there and smile and play the part of your perfect little sister, like I should just be grateful to even be a part of your story.”

Alex takes a step toward you, hands up, but you move away, barely holding it together, so you don't hurt her. “Do you know how exhausting it is? How much do I dread putting on the suit, being the hero, pretending this is all I ever wanted? Because it’s not. It’s never been. I hate it," your voice comes out so raw, your throat hurts afterwards. "and I can’t even tell anyone that because you’d all look at me like I’d failed you. Both of you would.”

Alex steps back the slightest, her face twisted in a mix of surprise and sadness. Kara looks stricken, her mouth parting like she wants to say something, but you don’t give her the chance. You’re too far gone, the anger pushing past your better judgment.

“You get to be perfect, and I get to be… what? The second-rate version of you? The one who’s not quite as brave, not quite as good?” You only realize you're crying when you taste your own tears. “The one people don't even glance at because they are too busy looking at you — the super girl. And now you want me to watch you with the person I love too? You just get to take everything.”

"That's not true! None of it is—" Kara reaches out, but you take a step back, hands up like it’s a shield. 

“You don't get it! So don’t—just don't.”

Her expression crumples, and for the first time, you see the real hurt reflected back at you. But the ache inside you is too loud, too sharp to ignore. A small part of you feels vindicated, glad that she’s hurting too—at least now you’re not the only one carrying the weight of pain.

You turn away, ready to escape the suffocating atmosphere, but Alex’s voice cuts through the tension, pulling you back.

"Y/N, wait." Alex tries, voice sweet like you didn't even know she could master. "Let's all take a breath and just… talk about it."

"Oh no," You turn to her. "you don't get to do this. I trusted you with this, and you just—” You can’t find the words, the tears breaking free, your voice shaking. "You just chose Kara over me. Like everyone does. So you don't get to ask me for anything." The next words leave from the depths of your core, it shakes the entire room. "NONE OF YOU get to ask me for ANYTHING!" 

Sometimes hours can feel like minutes, and sometimes a single second can last a lifetime.  "I'm done pretending we're one big happy family." This is it. This is that second. The second you burned every bridge, every connection you've had and flew away from it.

[theogmiemiew]

<<Sick in the head>>

cw: bdsm, degrading, violence, mentions of death, rough sex, both oral and vaginal, reader is a female, humiliation, autassassinophilia, dacryphillia, sliiiightest praise kink.

You woke up in the middle of the night due to incoherent mumbling and chanting disturbing your sleep. Groaning, you rub your eyes and yawn before standing up and out of your bed, it was only your second day living with the League of villains and you're already having trouble sleeping.

Slowly, you walk out of your room, hesitantly stepping closer and closer to where all the mumbling came from, leading you to Shigaraki's lair. "All these good for nothing heroes, all these pathetic losers thinking they're better than us in so many ways..! They make me so mad I sometimes think of unraveling and destroying everything around me..." Shigaraki's prominent voice is heard, raspy whispers coming out in shaky chuckles and manic laughing.

You stand there in silence, listening to all his nonsense babbling and feeling remorse for him. It was stupid, the last thing Shigaraki would ever want is people feeling pity for him, yet you couldn't help but feel a little bad for the villain. Sighing, you turn to leave, but stop all together when a particular plank you step on makes a high pitched, squeaky noise.

You hold still, holding your breath as you beg for Tomura not to have heard you, your heart pumping faster then ever before, adrenaline rushing through your body. How would you ever explain your presence near his door in the middle of the night to him? Hell, he would probably not even give you a chance at explaining yourself if he found out you've heard him talking to himself in such an intimate moment.

Shigaraki turns his head abruptly to where the noise came from, slowly moving to fiddle with the door handle as if to unlock it. "Who's there?" His voice resonates through the thin walls, his other hand coming up to his neck as he's started to feel frustrated, scratching at the dry skin relentlessly as he grunts quietly. Nevertheless, he already has a pretty good idea on who it could be behind the door due to the familiar presence lingering in the air.

"Shit..." you curse under your breath, wanting to slap yourself for your own stupidity before sighing and accepting your fate. "It's me, I'm sorry if I had bothered you in any way, I'll leave you be. Sorry again, boss." You muttered, trying to make your way out of the situation and escape without any damage. Clearly it wasn't going to be that easy, was it?

"No you fucking won't" He snaps as he opens the door, revealing his hunched figure and his clearly disturbed face expression, red eyes staring you up and down. He moves slightly to the side, as if leaving room for you to enter. "You've come for a reason, haven't you? You've got at least some sort of brain inside your head, haven't you?? I'm sure you had a good, undeniable reason to make your presence known at 3 AM in the morning, right?" He urges you on, a cynic smile making it's way on his chapped lips, grin so wide it already made you feel uneasy.

You gulped, feeling your knees grow weak as you decide not to push his limits any further, stepping inside the room and letting him close the door behind you. Your eyes widen as you hear the lock click twice, signaling that Shigaraki's locked the door, meaning you wouldn't be able to leave this room willingly anytime soon. Another anxious thought washes over you, overlapping your previous worry by fear as he walks in front of you, one of his fingers pointing at a chair, a silent order for you to sit down.

You oblige immediately, wobbly feet carrying you to the chair as you take your place in it, hands placing themselves on your knees as your gaze fixates on the floor, unable and not wanting to meet his piercing gaze for now. It doesn't stop you from hearing his infuriated voice as he gets closer to you.

"Say now.. what could be so important that it was worth disturbing my peace in the middle of the night?" He asks sternly, red eyes staring down at your smaller figure and intimidating you without any additional effort. You ought not to speak, can't speak as a knot ties itself up in your throat, lips pressing themselves together as you can practically feel his gaze devouring you whole.

As moments of silence pass by, Shigaraki loses his patience, a stinging and sudden pain inflicting on your cheek and snapping you out of your trance as you're forced to meet his eyes, his two fingers slapping your cheek harshly as you gasp due to the pain and shock you're experiencing. "I told you to speak!" He groans, shaking his hand slightly as he's felt the slap himself. "Useless waste of oxygen, making me lose my precious time with things like this..."

You bring up a hand to cover up your already forming bruise, parted lips and widened eyes staring up at him as you felt a tear slip down your cheek. "I've just..." you don't get to finish your sentence as another slap of his fingers land on your other cheek, small chuckles leaving his mouth breathily.

"You've just.. you've just..." He mocks in your own tone, grabbing your chin forcefully and bringing your face upwards, so close to his own face that you can feel his ragged breath on your skin. "You're just too dumb to think, aren't you? Not able to think of anything at all with that worthless mind of yours, ain't I right? Huh? Speak!" He spits out, gritted teeth building up another grin as he awaits your next words.

Your cheeks burn, not only from the pain he's lingered on you, but from shame and embarrassment too, ashamed of yourself for feeling... aroused at the moment of humiliation you were involved in. You feel wetness sip down into your panties, forming a visible patch on them and you're even more worried now as you think of the possibility of leaving a wet spot on the cushion chair you're sat in.

"Mhmm.." you mumbled, nodding at his accusations as your lower lip wobbled softly, sobbing quietly as your teary eyes stared up into his, nipples hardening under the thin fabric of your top at the sight of him, at the danger of his almost whole hand grasping at your chin.

Surprisingly for him, you don't even try to fight back, you're not even struggling against his grip as he strengthens it up, practically pinching your skin now. He laughs suddenly, eyes not breaking contact with yours as he pulled your face closer to his "Whats that..? It seems you're enjoying this whole act, aren't you, whore?" He leans down to whisper in your ear "Do you like this? Is your pussy begging to be filled? Is it why you've come to my door in the middle of the night, hm? To beg for cock?..." One of his hands slides down to your tits, thumb grazing over your already hardened nipple as you bite back a moan once he tightly tugs on it.

"Please.." you beg, biting down your lip to quiet down your sounds at the pressure he was applying to your chest, pressing your thighs together in a desperate attempt to relief down your arousal.

You've always found Tomura attractive, you were sure everyone in the league noticed your gaze lingering on him for a little too long during any encounters with the heroes. You've just never thought about the possibility of him noticing you. With the way he was always focused on his only goal in life, with the way he never cared for anything else in the world, you had no hopes for actually finding yourself in such a heated situation with him.

"Now you're begging? Ha..! Filthy whore, nasty, dirty slut... What're you even begging for, do you know?" He mutters, grinning down at you as his fingers trail back up to your neck, not quite closing around it before you felt his teeth graze and scratch over the lobe of your ear. You whimper, shaking softly as you feel the way his fingers begin to close around your jugular "You of all the people should be aware of my quirk..." you feel his lips curl up in a gruesome smirk "what is it that you want? I'm one finger away from killing you right now... s'that what you're so prettily pleading for?"

Tears flood down your face, straight up crying now yet you can't help it with the fear you're experiencing, can't help it with the way it feels just too wrong to feel so aroused by this. "..I want your cock..." you finally speak up, bold words and demand hesitantly leaving your mouth.

The room is silent for a good second as Tomura releases the strong hold on your neck, his hand now moving upwards to hold your chin roughly in place, thumb grazing over your lower lip harshly. "...You're sick in the head" he laughs before pushing his finger past your lips, circling around your tongue. "Crazy slut begging for my cock"

You sob, making his cock twitch relentlessly within his tight jeans with the way you start lewdly sucking on his thumb, gagging softly when he pushes a little too deep into your mouth. "I bet you're dirtying the whole chair underneath you with your filthy cunt, huh?" He chuckles, withdrawing his finger suddenly and landing another slap on your face before stepping away from you to admire your state.

Hands obediently placed on your knees that don't seem to stop shaking, your own spit smeared all over your chin, mixed in with salty tears that fall down on your boobs, smearing down all the way to your hard nipples and soaking the fabric of your top up, making it cling to your skin and revealing all of you shamelessly.

Shigaraki walks back to you, gripping your arm tightly and putting you on your feet as you yelp at the unexpected move, letting him carry you over to his desk as he threw you on top of it, bumping one of his knees between your thighs, forcing them wide apart before grabbing full hands of your lower clothing, decaying your panties along with it and licking his dry lips at the sight of your pussy.

He sneers down at you, trapping one of your legs between his own thighs as he presses down on the plush of your skin, grunting out at the little yet delicious feeling of his hard cock rutting against you. He swiftly moves one of his hands between your thighs now, wasting no time in sticking one of his thick fingers up your pussy, without warning nor preparation.

"Ah!" You yelp out at the painful intrusion, biting back tears and whimpers. You sling one arm over your eyes and are quickly stopped from doing so by his strong hand keeping it in place and above your head.

"You wanted it, remember? Acting as if you weren't a needy whore bare minutes before this." He mutters through gritted teeth, plunging another finger deep into your cunt as he's started pulling in and out of it, leaving you no room for rest as you gasped for air, fingers trying to clutch at the hard wooden desk for at least some kind of grounding.

Despite the burning feeling, you push your hips down and into his fingers, relishing in the way you could feel him so close to you, moaning out loudly as soon as his thumb pressed down your clit, your heartbeat increasing at the way he's started straight up humping your thigh now.

"O-ohh..! Please, I need your cock, it's not enough...!" You whine out, body squirming on his desk in a desperate attempt to get him to fuck you. Instead, you feel his hand resume his place on your neck, squeezing tightly and restricting your access to air as you see him stare up at you with the corner of your eye, noticing the sudden shift in demeanor. He's angry, annoyed at you.

"Oh won't you shut up already?" He snarls, fingers getting rougher and faster inside of your pussy. "Your whining and babbling is getting so annoying it's hard for me not to stand up and kick you out of here, unsatisfied, with your slutty cunt empty. Is that what you're trying to reach by crying like that?" He mutters, groaning from time to time whenever the fabric of his boxers grazed over a particular sensitive spot on the underside of his tip.

You rapidly shake your head, clearly alarmed by the thought of that, yet you clench down on his fingers at the harshness of his words. "Please please please no, I'll be good, just plea-" you gasp in pain as he squeezes down hard onto the meat of your pussy, almost tearing up the inside of your walls as you feel tears prickle at your eyes again.

"I told you to shut the fuck up, don't you get it?" Shigaraki repeats from within greeted teeth, making you fall completely silent now, only moans of pleasure now heard from you as he continues rutting against your thigh, eagerly fingering you. "Shit... fuck, you're so fucking wet, almost like you've gotten even more turned on by this, huh?" He stands up, withdrawing his fingers as you whimper in the emptiness he's left you in "Hush, I'm only getting ready to stuff you full of cock, be patient."

You nod in excitement as you hesitantly support your weight on your elbows, looking at him and admiring the sight in front of you as he unbuckles his belt, pulling out his reddened cock and pumping it hurriedly, throwing his head back and moaning as he focuses on his leaking, big tip. His shaft is even bigger, girthier, thicker, you notice, pretty v-line at his hips only making the sight even more desirable.

His head shots back to meet your gaze "ha.. hah..." He chuckles breathily, gripping at the base tightly as if letting you examine it standing hard. "You like it, bitch? What d'ya think, huh?" His manic red eyes question you, urging you on and adding to the heat in your lower belly.

You gulp down your want for him, nodding repeatedly "Y-yes, I need it so bad, Tomura, please.." you beg, eyes not leaving his as you feel your cunt ooze with arousal, closing around nothing when he approaches you, his hands gripping at your thighs from each side as he effortlessly rotates your body on the desk, leaving your head hanging off the edge and facing his dick.

"Then take it, sweetheart... it's all yours to worship, come on, open up" He grins as he taps his cockhead over your lips, smearing his precum all over your face before sliding it past and into your mouth, groaning, his voice blissful to your ears as you open your mouth wide open, the unusual petname he's whispered to you making your body shiver.

Both of his hands grip at your neck, holding you in place as he's started pounding into your throat, making you gag at his size and smell, yet feeling even more soaked than before. "That's it... good whore, doing a great job there" He praises, pressing down on your throat to make it tighter around his cock, moaning shamelessly while drooling slightly, small drops of his spit falling down on your chin, making you whimper around him.

His hips halter, uneven pace forceful and merciless as Shigaraki fucks your mouth and suddenly you're choking on his dick, throat fluttering tightly around it as he presses his hips flush against your mouth, balls resting against your nose and restricting your only source of fresh air.

You panic, shaking your head as one of your hands pushes against his pelvis, trying oh so desperately to get him off you so that you wouldn't suffocate to death on his cock. All you get in return is another sinister chuckle of his, pushing even deeper into your face "Ahh... fuck.. keep still, cunt" He orders, eyes rolling back into his head while his shaft throbs within your mouth.

You almost feel like passing out when he finally pulls away after another long moment, a long, thick trail of your spit hanging from his cockhead, smearing all over your tear stained face as you gasp for air, coughing up gobbles of drool, not seeming to get enough air as you heave uncontrollably under him.

Tomura clicks his tongue, watching you writhe while stroking his cock in long pumps "Stop being dramatic, I went way too easy on you.." He mumbles coldly, shaking off the spit off his dick and letting it fall down on the floor. "Fucking nasty, could you have gotten any messier than this?"

He yanks on your hair sharply, snapping you out of your attempt to calm down "What's wrong, hun? Already spent out?" He teases, eyes fixated on yours "I haven't cum yet, it's not fair to leave your boss with blue balls now, is it?"

You shudder, the burning pain on your scalp making you whimper softly and you can't lie to him when he's so close to you, can't lie about still wanting to be fucked by him. "M'not spent out.." you cough out, yet your state says otherwise, eyes blurred over and tears along with sticky precum smeared around your whole face. "...want your cock, please" you whisper, pouting softly and begging for him to fill you up once again.

You don't expect it, ready and prepared for anything but his lips pressing with weird softness on yours, the intimate and vulnerable moment ending way too quickly for your liking as he picks you up from the desk, hurriedly carrying you over to his bed.

You're placed on all your fours, Shigaraki getting on his knees behind you as his cockhead pokes at your entrance, dragging up and down your slit. You moan, face falling down into his sheets, his smell lingering on them as your hands curl up into them, grabbing tightly as you push your hips back into his with eagerness "fuck.. please, Tomura, just please fuck me.." your voice cracks down, chin shivering as you feel like crying again from how much you desired him.

"Hey, easy... easy, slutty baby" He whispers, smirking down at your ruined form as his body hunches over yours, lips barely touching your ear as he whispers into it "Don't worry, I'll fuck out every last bit of self consciousness out of your dumb little brain by morning" he promises, laughing breathily as he presses his dick into you, sliding in so easily due to how wet you were, resulting into you immediately letting out a gasp of pleasure and clutching down harder on the sheets underneath you.

Finally you feel it, the ecstasy of having him inside of you, pressing up against all of the right places as you can't help but moan continously with each snap of his hips against your ass. It all feels surreal, and for a moment you regret not having him fuck you earlier as you're so tired out that you almost see stars, present seemingly slowing down while Shigaraki fucks you raw.

You're a sight for sore eyes from Tomura's perspective, unfocused gaze and lulled out tongue as moans after moans fill the room, his hips not stopping even for a second as he watches your ass jiggle with each of his movements. "Holy fu-uuck..!" He heaves, not expecting to feel this heavenly nestled inside of you, balls slapping against your clit.

You don't hear him, not able to hear anything beside the slapping skin sound as you're drowning in a puddle of your own saliva, arousal and, mostly, undeniable pleasure. You can feel his nails digging deep into the flesh of your meaty thighs, whining like a bitch in heat at how much pleasure you were receiving.

"You're sucking me in so tightly, hah.. wouldn't be able to pull out even if I wanted to, your hole's drawing me right back in" He laughs, tilting his head in bliss and resting it against his shoulders while he watches his cock slide in and out of your cunt, covered in a thick layer of sheer, slick wetness.

He's high striked in his own cloud of pleasure right now, almost feeling like he's a virgin all over again, cursing under his breath whenever you clenched down on him, so tight he had to hold back from cumming a couple of times.

His body curls down on yours, mouth greedily attaching to your nape, tongue licking all over your sweaty skin as he bites down on your skin, rutting into you desperately, fucking you in an almost animalistic way. You don't react at the burning pain, only moaning dumbly as you feel your orgasm approaching.

With another deep thrust of his hips pressing flush against you, you whine out, cumming on his cock the next second while your fingernails tear through his bed sheets, biting down on them as you tiredly fuck your hips back up into his, body exhausted and drenched out from each and every last drop of strength within it.

You want to scream out at the overstimulating pleasure as soon as you feel him pulling out of you slowly, pressing right back into your cunt as soon as you've come down from your high, yet all you're capable of is small, helpless whimpers, too weak and dizzy to be able of more than that.

"Fuck.." you faintly hear Shigaraki curse above you, his moans way easier to catch with the way he's becoming quite loud himself "I'm about to cum..." He stutters against the back of your neck, hot, ragged breathing tickling your skin.

Using all the will inside of you, your head lifts up the slightest to take in the sight of his face distorting in bliss, biting your lip when he abruptly pulls out of you, stroking his shaft desperately a few more times and letting his hips fuck faster into his hand before his movements come to a stop, white cum messily landing on your lower back as he heaves and pants, stuffing his tip right back into your pussy on his last shot of cum and filling you up sweetly and you smile at the warmth it spreads within your body, happily falling back down onto his bed and closing your eyes with a soft sigh.

Shigaraki breathes out heavily, dry lips parted the slightest as he admires you laying under him, covered and filled up with his cum and it almost makes him hard all over again. He reaches down, finger pushing a strand of hair out of your sticky face, tapping your cheek sternly "Hey" he calls out and your eyes open up briefly, meeting his gaze "You're mine now..." He mutters, and you realize he's serious now by the deadly stare he sends you, rubbing sweat off his forehead before standing up and leaving you rest off in his bed as you hear the door handle click and heavy footsteps exit the door.

You feel both flattered and alarmed by his last words, yet you decide not to give it much thought and instead, you indulge in the now familiar smell of his lingering on the fabric underneath your fingers, nuzzling into it as you drift off to sleep. Little did you know that he meant those words, dead ass serious and that you could now say good bye to any guy who isn't him, because Tomura hates his things being touched by others, after all, they're his for a reason.

[v3x-y0urs3lf]

Our life N&F Soft moments with Step 3 Tamarack and Qiu

For anyone wondering before they read, There's:

one (1) Tamarack headcanons

one (1) Tamarack (short) scenario

one (1) Qiu headcanons

one (1) Qiu (short) scenario

one (1) headcanon with BOTH Qiu and Tamarack

one (1) SHORT scenario with BOTH Qiu and Tamarack.

This is me trying to makeup for the fact I haven't posted in a while and I STILL don't have my boundaries/request list uploaded and ready yet (I SWEAR I ACCEPT REQUESTS.)

This is before step 3 has been published so I'm just going off my own headcanons and theories on the characters.

Also, Qiu uses They/Them in this post BECAUSE both them (and reader) are painting nails.

You should be able to read this as either platonic or romantic, I didn’t mention ‘dates’ or any genuine romance - So knock yourselves out while reading this.

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Braiding hair!!

Whether you're a friend or a lover, I think she'd allow those close with her to braid her hair or at least use her hair as an example when braiding it. No matter how hard you accidentally pull it or if you stuff up and end up having to do it again, she just chuckles and reminds you that patience is key and that 'slow and steady win the race'.

With Miss Tamarack Baumann, time almost stops. Whether you're deep in thought and trying to keep total concentration whilst braiding her orange strands of hair or if there's light chatter amongst the two of you, Tamarack doesn't mind. It's just like how her Omi always says, "Sometimes everyone needs 5 minutes."

Maybe you have long-ish hair too? Great! Tamarack (With your permission) will braid your hair after you finish with hers! She doesn't mind French Braids, Box braids, Dutch, Micro, Cornrow, She may need a bit of assistance to learn, but better late than never!

No matter how short your hair is or what texture your hair is, her fingers work her magic and it genuinely feels like a fairytale when Tamarack is able to produce some of the best braids you’ve ever SEEN.

Miss Tamarack is just so, so sweet and gentle about it all. The moment feels so tender, with her hands gently running through your hair, complete silence for a moment before she speaks in that soft and comforting tone you've practically memorized by this point.

"Ah, Sorry." You wince as you accidentally tug a little to harshly on Tamaracks hair, gently rubbing her scalp as to (hopefully) relieve some of the pain you may have accidentally caused. The only response you get is a soft chuckle being elicited from the girl in front of you. "Good lord, MC, I'm fine. You didn't pull that hard..." Tamarack smiled, barely looking over her shoulder to look at you as you unraveled her strands of hair and started again. The two of you had been at this for a bit now, about 15 minutes or so. You both had made plans to go to the knew crepe shop opened in town and offered to help Tamarack get ready.

Tamarack tilted her head slightly and made eye contact with you from the mirror at her vanity. "I'm not fragile, y'know?" Whilst Tamarack was soft, nurturing, soft-spoken, She was anything BUT fragile.

Tamarack Baumann? The same Tamarack Baumann who used to run around and hide in piles of leaves in the woods? The SAME Tamarack Baumann who didn't mind when batter or such got on her clothes when she was baking? The same Tamarack Baumann who would just say 'they're just clothes.' when doing arts and crafts? THAT Tamarack Baumann?

"I know." You could only whisper in a quiet tone as her soft eyes met yours. She gently turned around, taking your hands into hers with a sweet smile. She no longer had her braces from when she was 14, no longer had her overwhelming insecurities or big anxieties about the world. Tamarack was content and this was enough for her to be able to live her days without too much stress.

“I’m not made of glass. I don’t need you to treat me like I’m my Omi’s fine China.” Tamarack snickered. She couldn’t help but tease you over this. Tamarack was no longer the small child or young teen with terrible insecurities. She had grown into a fine young woman and was ready to live her own life.

Whether her relationship with you was romantic or platonic, she knew she’d want you to be with her every step of the way. After all, You were her first friend in Golden Grove, She’d hate for you to not be there until the end.

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Painting nails!!

I've just had this idea in my head for so long - Painting nails with each other.

Even if you aren't trans or don't follow Qiu's whole thing with 'Pronouns correspond with nail polish', Either you can paint their nails or they'll paint your nails- Or you can do your own nails while they do their nails. It's up to you!

For anyone who doesn’t have much experience with painting nails, Qiu might give you some tips or show an example or two, but after that? They’re just going to make you eye ball it. You may not have very good hand-eye coordination, You may have shaky hands or struggle to keep attention- That doesn’t matter to Qiu!

They might tease a bit, but if you’re truly bothered or embarrassed with it all then they’ll stop. Qiu just wants to spend some time with each other, a soft moment for the two of you to bond. They don’t want to lose you because of some insensitive comment.

If you really want as well, Qiu offers to paint your nails as well. (I’m pretty sure In-game Qiu always has black nail polish… but that’s okay.) They’ll let you choose the colour and they’ll begin with what looks like innate expertise.

Genuinely. Qiu looks like a BOSS with how focused they are for this entire moment.

“And the award for best nail-painter goes to…” Qiu starts, a smile on their face as you look up from their nails to see them. They had taken off their green coat, but left everything else on, their white jumper, navy pants, and had left their bag just beside them. “Not you.” Qiu ends with a Cheshire smirk.

You can’t help but groan and sigh softly at that, taking a break to let Qiu’s nails dry for a moment. You aren’t able to tell if you groaned because you were annoyed by Qiu’s comment.. or if you secretly knew that they were right. After barely a moment of looking down at their hands again, You easily could tell that they were right.

“I know.. I’m sorry.” You sigh again, putting the brush back into the nail polish and looking at the remnants of black nail polish on the edges of Qiu’s fingertips.

Always the observant one, Qiu looks at you and immediately notices your disappointment. The habits you made when you were upset or frustrated were crystal clear to them, even if anyone else couldn’t tell. “Hey, Hey. It’s alright. I was kidding.” They immediately backpedal, trying to avoid a total meltdown.

Qiu’s eyes scan the table for something they could do, looking at the bottle of nail polish again before taking the brush and painting one of your nails. Due to the quick reaction and lack of concentration, some of the polish got onto the edges of your skin as well.

By the looks of things, they hadn’t truly thought that through and just looked at you with a softer, genuine grin. “I’m not perfect either.. So let’s just be imperfect together, okay?”

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Having a picnic!!

After talking it over, the three of you had decided a picnic would be a great idea to spend your time before summer break ended and school started up again.

Tamarack had agreed to make some food, Qiu brought some drinks and a few games for you all to play, You just had to bring the blanket and pick a spot in the park.

Luckily for you all, the weather was great. The sun was shining, a few kids were playing around in the playground, there weren’t a few clouds in the sky but they just provided some nice shade, and it was surprisingly warm for an autumn’s day, not too cold but not scolding hot either. In Tamaracks words, ‘it’s just right.’

The day didn’t seem like it could get better by this point. Tamarack had made some delicious desserts in an adorable picnic basket and Qiu had brought some delicious tea and board games for you all to play. What could possibly go wrong?

You all had been sitting there, resting on the checkered picnic blanket you and your mom had in the closet for years now. She was glad the old thing was finally getting some use.

Tamarack had her braid you had been kind enough to help her do just a few hours ago, and Qiu still had the splotchy nail polish on their fingers you had helped with a few days ago.

The sun was shining, laughter and joy shared amongst the three of you, the food Tamarack had kindly decided to bake was absolutely delicious, Qiu’s tea being a perfect mix of sweet and bitter. It felt like nothin could go wrong in this situation.

.

..

…

Well, apparently the small clouds in the sky has deceived you all and decided at that very moment, the clouds had decided to rain down on the three of you and cause you all to practically sprint to the all-familiar restaurant, The Diner Table.

Yusuf had graciously let you three in, despite the fact you all were practically soaked from the rain. You were given a seat at the usual booth you all used to get throughout your childhoods of coming down here together either after school or after your after-school curriculums. Even after 8 years, The Diner Table still held that ‘comfortable’ feel you had gotten when you came in as a kid.

By now, most of the food had been rained on and the tea had metaphorically and literally been spilt before the three of you had arrived at the diner.

Tamarack and Qiu were sitting in the same row, all of you glancing at each other awkwardly to just silently communicate that that was all a total fail. Though, in reality, Tamarack was the one to speak up first.

“So… Uh, good thing we’re warm now, right?” Tamarack smiled optimistically, trying to find a ‘bright side’ to look at here.

“Sure, yeah. Getting rained on, food ruined and drink gone— Oh, but at least we’re warm!” Qiu said sarcastically, it had meant to be a joke to lighten the mood.. but it seemed to have just been a bit too soon for the three of you to joke about.

Was there really a bright side to look at here? The entire day felt ruined now just because no one managed to check the weather forecast! Nothing could possibly fix this situation—

“Could I get anything started for you three?” Yusuf’s calming and gentle voice cut through the jelly-thick atmosphere, causing you all to jump slightly at the suddenness.

You all shared a glance before coming to a collective realisation. It was never about having a ‘perfect picnic’— It wasn’t about having a picnic in general! You three had just wanted to have a good time with each other, and what better place for familiarity and fun times than The Diner Table?

With a collective smile and a silent nod, you three agreed this was no better place to have a good time. You turned to Yusuf, ready to order a meal and some food. The board games were just a little damp, but they were still playable if you all were gentle enough.

Maybe this wasn’t the picnic you three had in mind.

Maybe you were all a bit silly to not check the weather forecast before going out.

.. Or maybe you were all just destined to inevitably end up in the all-familiar diner one more time.

[randomquadballpun]

Knitting beige cabled socks Johns jumper inspired socks?

A while back I read @calaisreno fanfic 'Ravelling' after stumbling across it on Tumblr. Apart from being beautifully written, it also really hit a chord for me, since knitting is what kept me somewhat sane over the last 2 years and has been a massive help just by keeping my hands and my mind busy.

Ever since I got into knitting bigger projects, I have been flirting with the idea of doing more fandom inspired knitting, since fandom is another big part of my everyday life. But knitting materials are expensive and I only want to knit clothes that I truly love and will get a lot of wear out of, and so far no bigger fanish project has ever appealed to me enough to make the commitment.

For some reason - before reading Ravelling - it hadn't even occurred to me that socks are right there! So just like John in this fanfic I too want to slowly start a fandom inspired sock collection, because that just sounds like a lot of fun.

I am starting off very beige. I found a pattern for an oatmeal jumper inspired sock and the same weekend I went out to shop for some groceries and came across the ideal beige yarn for the purpose. It was basically faith.

This has been my first time knitting a sock from the toe up (if we ignore the at least three times that I unravelled parts of this sock before I was happy with it) and I really like doing it this way! The yarn, while inexpensive and nice to look at, was a bit of a pain to work with though.

Overall I am not 100% sure how much this really resembles the actual oatmeal jumper, but even if it doesn't, it's still a very comfy and nice cable knit sock, just in time for the cold months and it has a special meaning just for me.

The problem with socks, he decides, is that people have heels.

John in Ravelling

While I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment (even though this heel really wasn't that bad), there is an even bigger problem ... which is that people have TWO feet.

So I will post this here mainly to hold myself accountable to actually starting and finishing sock number 2 at some point (even though my mind has already merrily skipped further down fandom knitting lane and is now ogling 221 B wallpaper patterned socks or a Moriarty skull tie pattern). But I am sure I will return to oatmeal sock number 2 in 2-3 business months, just to discover that I have completely forgotten how I made the first one!

Wish me luck!

(And go and read Ravelling if you haven't yet. Go reread it if you have! And if you have the time and the spoons for it, go and create something!)

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Survivors

theo raeken x reader

summary: people are being kidnapped and tested, and one day, you wake up with the startling realization that you're next. luckily, your captor releases you after something about you reminds him a little too much of himself.

tags: kidnapping, implied s3lf h4rm, implied child abuse, non-graphic

word count: 1.1k

a/n: i apologize in advance

also, i wrote this a month ago and haven't been able to title it! i've also had to rewatch parts of s5 bc i was so confused the first time around. this takes place before the chimeras start dying / when they're still being tested on and all that.

A dark cloth is pulled tightly around your head, and your hands are bound in rope. A metal pole supports your back, though it is uncomfortable between your shoulder blades. Two of your senses are rendered useless, forcing you to rely on the other three for support. Unfortunately, they aren't much help in a situation like this.

You sigh. There's no telling how long you've been here. You know you've faded in and out of consciousness three times now. This is the first time you've fully woken up and realized how endangered you actually are.

Even with the blindfold, you know you're in the dark. The hard and cold ground suggests a garage, storage building, or maybe even down in the tunnels, is where you're being kept. Who knows? A pill was forced down your throat the minute you were grabbed, your kidnapper rendering you completely unable to fight.

Speaking of which... Your kidnapper...

You wonder who they are. It's probably the doctors; they've been damning people for weeks now. Turning humans into creatures and throwing them back out into the world. Killing them if they're failures, but doing more tests if they seem to succeed.

Fear shoots down your spine as you realize you're next. You're captured, you must be their next test. You struggle against the ropes, but there's no give.

A heavy door is pushed to the side, and footsteps make their way towards you. You stop fighting immediately and prepare for the worst.

Someone crouches in front of you close enough that you can hear their breathing. They're calm in a way that horrifies you. They're not here to save you. No, no one knows you're here. No one is coming to save you.

You're startled by a gentle touch as two hands meet the sides of your head. Your blindfold is pulled down slowly, finally revealing the person on the other side. Their identity shocks you; a chill ices your body.

"You."

He sighs, glancing at the floor. "Sorry about this, Y/N. You're the one they wanted most."

"Really? And when'd you become their little errand boy, Theo? I thought you wanted Scott to trust you. Thought you wanted to be a part of his pack."

"it's all about survival, Y/N. There is a war, and I am loyal to whom I think will come out on top."

"You're wrong. The bad guys always lose, even if not in ways you'd expect. You will lose."

"Have that much faith in Scott, now do you? I don't see him coming to save you. You're all alone here. There's no getting out." You gulp visibly before you can stop yourself. "How's that for being the loser?"

"You're sick."

"Maybe. But at least I'm a realist."

You roll your eyes, looking away from him. Right now, his face is pissing you off just to see it. Two days ago, you'd admit you thought the little fucker was hot, but now, he's just a pain in your ass.

"Whatever," you snap, "have it your way. Just make it fast if you're going to kill me."

"Baby, if you've been following along, I'm not killing anyone. And the doctors aren't yet either. They're testing you all."

"For what? And don't 'baby' me."

He smiles. "To make the perfect monster. The best one for the cause."

"Which is?"

"Can't say."

"You're insufferable."

"And you're adorable when you're mad."

"Ugh!"

Theo takes a deep breath, then unties the cloth that was once around your eyes. He reaches around the side to undo the ropes, working at them for a good thirty seconds before unraveling the strongly-made knot.

"I do mean it when I say I'm sorry. Wish they picked anyone else, but they said you were special."

"I don't care, Theo. I already know this is the end for me. You're just drawing it out."

He slouches his shoulders before taking your wrists in his hands. He sits up on his knees, prepared to pull you up with him, but stops suddenly. Even in the darkness, the chimera can see the scars. Thin, white lines decorating the skin on your wrists. Some are more faded than others, but others look more recent. He stares at them for a moment, while you remain none the wiser, avoiding his gaze.

For a second, he's transported back to his childhood - kidnapped by the doctors at an early age, forced to undergo tests and experiments, and to live under their care. Forgotten by his family and haunted by his sister. The doctors didn't know how to raise a child, but they clearly didn't care. The torment he suffered still hurts every passing day, and even now, in Beacon Hills again, the pain hasn't ceased.

Theo bears plenty of scars of his own. Some are made by the doctors, some he brought on himself. It took him years to learn to not hate his body, to see the scars as a reminder that he's a survivor, not a failure.

His are littered around his body in places not well seen. The first time one of the doctors discovered them, he was punished accordingly. It's as if they're the only ones allowed to abuse him; how dare he bring it upon himself.

Theo looks at your scars and wonders what trauma is buried beneath them. What are you hiding? What emotional pain lies under the physical? Who knows your secrets, if anyone? It's none of his business, so he doesn't ask, but he closes his hands over your wrists and gulps.

"Run."

You look back at him, then at your clasped hands. "What?"

"Run. Run far from here and don't look back. Follow the pipes on the left side of the wall, and let them take you back above ground. Don't tell Scott anything I told you, it will only get you hurt. Just run, and don't let the doctors find you."

"Wait, why? I don't understand."

Theo pushes your hands into your chest and finally releases them. Fear floods through you as realization hits. He's seen you, seen your wrists, and your scars, and he's taking pity on you. But... he's letting you go.

"Just go, Y/N!" He yells in a whisper. "Go, before they come back. Any minute now, they're expecting you."

You scramble to your feet and look towards the pipes. The pipes on the left lead out, he said.

"But what about you?" You don't know why you ask. You don't know why you care. But, something deep inside you does.

"I'll be fine, I'll make up a lie. Just go!"

And so finally, you take off in the direction he points, still a little confused, but incredibly grateful.

Maybe there is some good in him. Maybe he's just as manipulated by the doctors as the rest of the chimeras. Maybe there's hope for him after all.

[chaoticgoodthief]

Slay The Princess Roles Reversal Idea

Ok, it seems like my stupid ideas for this STP brainrot of mine actually keep getting popular for some reason so here we go.

Imagine this: It's at the end of the road, you're in the Stranger's cabin at the heart of the Shifting Mound, pristine blade in hand. At this point, you've become aware that there is no good ending. You steel your nerve and prepare to plunge the weapon into her heart for the final time ...But you never get to make it that far.

Voice of the Contrarian: ...I'm sorry. I can't let you do this.

Chains are wrapping around you. You can feel yourself shattering, fragments of yourself unravelling from your essence in a sensation that feels completely foreign and yet all too familiar. Everything goes dark, and you forget yourself.

Someone wakes up in a locked cabin, at the top of the stairs. It's not you. Instead, it is a beautiful maiden, tasked with slaying the beast in the basement. If she doesn't, then she will die. Or at least, that is what the Shadow keeps telling her.

I like to think that Contrarian would actually be quite convincing in this role. He is, after all, doing this for the Princess' own good. Moreover, he will be right. If she doesn't you, you will kill her. Very, very few routes end up with both of you surviving. And even those routes need at least one of you to die first.

I haven't really thought this through very well on how it would actually work, but it would be super interesting.

[fizzcrochet]

Mabel Shooting Star sweater update (Still WIP)

I am horrible at updating things

Current progress photo:

Made one sleeve. Love the colour scheme. Making the other one rn. I haven't sewn on the shooting star appliqué yet

Older iterations (multiple) under cut

I redid the collar. So many freaking times. I struggle to get the fit right for me (not really depicted. Istg I did it at least 4 times). The dark purple was too plain when I finished the sleeve. So I changed to a yarn that is multi coloured purple. I also didn't like the look of the collar so I did some adjustments. This is a pic of an older version.

And older OLDER iteration

The fit was a lot more boxier. I didn't like where the mesh sleeve started and how it looked on me. Try-on pic:

So I have to unravel all that to make it fit me much better. Basically no.1 was the first iteration of the panelling and no.2 is what I settled with as shown in the photo below:

Current try-on pic:

Ngl. Not my favourite. It's definitely better but I do not like that crease. If there are simple solutions that don't involve me frogging the entire sleeve do let me know. Or maybe advice for future projects. Please help.

Will be working on this throughout the night. Watching Etho's 3rd life pov:

[cyanidas]

🃏 Kokichi Ouma Age-up Timeline 🍇

Here, I've used his initial designs as inspiration! I like looking back at older designs cause for a lot of them, it's like watching them grow up!

Headcanons under cut (HUUUGE SPOILER WARNING FOR DRV3)

(Content Warning for child abuse, mental illness and disorder, self harm, generally dark and unsettling topics ahead)

-=-

First off, I'm firm in my take that Tsumugi was lying about everyone being fictional. There's a lot that doesn't match up, and the local V3 fandom celebrity responsible for the Amalgamate fic has helped me tremendously in solidifying my stance. I think they absolutely do belong to the DR universe, but the memories they get that aren't part of their backstory are completely fabricated.

If there's any additional input on V3 in Raincode, don't let me know because I haven't played yet ;w;

That said, there's many things I, like Kokichi, will refuse to clarify or elaborate on. His character demands mystery, and it would be a trivialization of his writing to just. lay it all out there. I think approaching his writing with the mindset of knowing the whole truth would be to bastardize his integrity and simplify him in a distasteful way - so all my headcanons here will be written and are intended to be seen as broad strokes as opposed to finely tuned detail.

-=-

I like to think of his past as muddy and confusing, even to him. There's not a lot he can remember clearly, and constantly confuses different takes on his memories. To me, it's clear that lying is a huge trauma thing to him - I would assume multiple sources would be responsible, like authority, family, and peers.

He's been lying as a means of survival, with multiple layers of how he feels about it - despite what he says, there's not actually one truth. Multiple truths exist for one single thing, and I think that mindset is something that scares him tremendously - he'd probably say that reality is just a lie you tell yourself, in order to justify trivializing and minimizing both feelings/emotion and trauma.

In his head, there's so much wrong with him that he can't even begin to unravel himself and understand everything that's happened to him, why he does what he does, why he feels what he feels... so on. He feels multiple things that often contradict each other, and he doesn't know how to understand that, so he often switches his justifications to suit whatever narrative he needs to cope.

In general, however, he claims he's just lying. There are in fact, genuine times he does actually lie... but rather than being a true compulsive liar, he is actually a compulsive method actor. He's so empathetic to everything and everyone, that he can easily switch his masking techniques to suit whatever he or others need, and does so involuntarily most of the time, though he does know how to "switch it on" purposefully.

In his earlier ages, he may have suffered from a guardianship similar to what those who have DID had gone through (not me projecting lol /hj). He's been bred and born into tragedy, not unlike Komaeda but absolutely distinct from him in that I do not believe this boy has had any good luck with anything in his life - not family, not friends, not money, nothing. I might even go so far as to assume that, similar to Yasuhiro having an unnaturally high good luck, Kokichi is suffering from unnaturally high bad luck.

I noticed that, on a lot of his designs, he seems to have always had *something* covering at least one of his hands - and even on his final design, though it could just be a design fluke or something weird with perspective I misunderstood, you can see the smallest scrap of fabric underneath his right sleeve that could be seen as another hand/wrist covering. When lined up with the other designs, it could very easily be taken as a wrist bandage - at least by my eyes. So, I (and a lot of others it seems, especially those who identify with him) have taken this to mean he may in fact be self-harming, and has been for a long while. Anyone who hyperfixates on this guy wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if that turned out to be true.

I think that age 11 is probably what Kokichi himself would think of as his 'turning point', just going off of my little chart here; something tremendously awful happened to him, then. To fuel speculation and abide by his character rules, all I'm going to definitively say is... he likely wouldn't even trust doctors with a needle, let alone his life.

So, the hardest year of any modern kid's life... 12 years old. In my family especially, it's the worst year you'll ever face, and my god was that true for me. So I think this year fits him for gaining his... as the creators put it, 'otherworldly' expressive nature. This is the year he completely stops putting effort into trying to understand the truth, and fully embraces the chaos that is his reality. He's fine!!!!!! :)))))

He mellows out around 15, and I like to think of this year as his cringe-fail-iest year to date. This motherfucker would likely be seen in Hot Topic, jamming to MCR, glomping his friends, verbally roleplaying, so forth. His phone signature is a series of kaomojis. Idk if there's a similar equivalent of being a cringe baby weeb for Japanese who are my age, so I'm really just basing this on my own experience of being 15 in 2011. But whatever the equivalent is, he is absolutely it. 15 year old Kokichi is current Kokichi's most embarrassing time ever.

However, it's also likely the age he started his talent's namesake - of becoming the Ultimate Supreme Leader. Which, I choose to believe is, much like Kokichi in general, both true and false. Same for his actual group, DICE. Both is good ;o)

Following his talent, he has a natural command to his voice that feels as though you're forced to hear him speak. No one can really talk over him unless their ability to do so demands it - say for example, Sonia, the SHSL Princess. Due to the nature of their talents, I think Sonia's voice and ability to command would absolutely trump Kokichi's. However, due to the aforementioned bad luck, people are compelled to not trust him - even if what he's saying is true. (Kokichi voice: oh pythia we're really in it now)

Also, you can't really tell because of all the scarring, but 15 and 19 are the ages where he stopped going outside so he's paler and paler, lol

And my last one, I love to imagine that due to his talent, he's actually intensely adept at fighting, especially dodging. In fact, I think he's even way smarter than he'd like to believe!

[xotaemintol]

(18+ college AU) PARK JISUNG X FEM BLACK READER: Unravel Me (Part. 2)

♡“There's something in the sun, or the air….” ♡

(Romantic, dramatic, semi slow burn. Includes fluff and smut.) PRONOUNS USED: SHE/HER RATING: 18+ (no smut yet.) FLUFF TWS: None Part: 2/5 ♡Part.1 Word count: 2059

JISUNG’S POV

"Dude, I swear! She was smiling and everything!" I told Chenle when I got back to our dorm and started explaining what happened, and of course, he didn't believe a word I said. He kept swearing that I was exaggerating, but how could I make this up? "So then what?" He asked, "Did you get her number?" When he asked this, I paused...technically, I don't have her number; she has mine, and she still hasn't texted me. So no. "Well...no, but-" He stopped me and laughed as Mark shook his head with a sigh. "HA! I knew it!" He said, "You have no balls! Dude, you need to be more confident in yourself," He added. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as he began his usual speech about how I'm too 'shy'; he's been giving the same long-winded speech for three years. Ever since I showed interest in Y/N, he's been telling me the same thing repeatedly: "You're gonna miss out if you don't." As he said this, I huffed and sat down at my desk. They've been saying this for so long now, and as far as I can see, things are going well.

I leaned my head against my arm and muttered, "Well, she has my number...so I'll have hers when she texts me." Feeling slightly annoyed and bitter about their opinions, I can handle this perfectly fine—waiting isn't wrong; I want to do it perfectly; if I confess to her, I want it to feel natural. As they continued to talk, silently, I flipped through the pages of my notebook, wishing I had asked for her number. I would've texted her by now; it's been at least three hours since then...maybe she forgot? Or she's busy? I exhale deeply. Who am I kidding? I would probably wait a whole day to text her if I had her number; even with the project being our reason for talking, I'd still take so long to say something. So maybe she's the same way? "Is she?" I mentally ask myself. I can easily recall all the people who talk to her daily. Whenever I see her, someone is talking to her and asking her about her day.

Y/N may not be completely extroverted or introverted, but she's way more friendly than me. So it seems strange that she'd be nervous to text me. She didn't exactly seem anxious to be sitting next to me or to approach me as I was leaving, so maybe it's just that she's busy. "Jisung." I mean, it's not unrealistic. "Jisung." We're both college students; there's no way she doesn't have homework or something. "Jisung!" I mean, she seemed pretty happy talking to me, so- "Jisung!" I cringed as I heard Chenle yell my name; I turned to him with wide eyes, and they both stared at me with concerned expressions. "We're going to get something to eat. Do you want to come?" I only shake my head; I can't eat right now, not while my stomach is in knots. "Are you sure? Do you want us to bring you anything to eat then?" Asked Mark. I shook my head again, and they both gave me one more worried look before saying okay and leaving.

As they grab their jackets and a set of keys I turn back to the wall and look up at the ceiling. Maybe I should've been a little bolder. "Jisung," As Mark called my name, I turned my head to him; "Don't stress too much, dude," He said, "Don't overthink it too much; all you have to do is be yourself." Hearing Mark say this made me sigh, but I could only nod—he was right. Maybe I am overthinking this too much. As the door closes, I reach into my pocket to check my phone; I haven't gotten one notification in the past four hours. As I click the power button and the screen remains black, my eyes go wide. "What?!" I groan and rush over to my bed, realizing only now, that I was so excited to tell them about what happened that I had forgotten to charge my phone. "...No way..."

THIRD PERSON

As you rewrite your entire essay, you nervously bite your lip. You texted Jisung three hours ago, and he still hasn't responded. You thought that maybe you were too excited; saying to yourself: "Maybe I should've waited a little longer.” Or maybe your text was too awkward, you didn’t know. You groaned as you thought about it again, looking over to your phone as you slammed your hands down on your desk and stared at your screen. "Was it that bad?" You asked yourself aloud, "I mean..." You paused and began to reach for your phone. "Maybe I should tell him I was just joking?" You stopped as an anxious feeling filled your body; your stomach felt like it was doing cartwheels, and your heart was racing. "God, I can't work like this." You pushed yourself away from your desk and stood up, saying, "I'm acting like I asked him to be my boyfriend or something; it's just a simple text; the worst he can do is make it blatantly obvious that he hates me."

You huffed and went to your mini fridge to grab a bottle of water, "I mean...he obviously doesn't, though; he was so red in the face it would stop traffic." You shook your head, hoping some water would calm you down; you cracked the top open, and took a refreshing sip. But just as you were starting to feel relaxed and enjoy the cold drink, your phone dinged, making you choke as your eyes went wide. As you hurriedly put the top back onto your water, you simultaneously rushed back to your desk to check your phone. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" You chanted. Standing before your desk, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to prepare yourself for the best and the worst mentally. As you slowly opened your eyes, you reached for your phone. Unlocking it you slowly open your notifications with your heart pounding against your chest like a drunk, your stomach feels unbelievably warm from the anxiety you felt.

'Sungie.'

You squealed as you read his name and jumped around before dramatically falling to your knees and screaming. Gripping your phone tightly, you closed your eyes again and tried to calm yourself a little before standing up again. This time—feeling slightly more nervous than before, you sat down and opened your eyes actually to read his message.

Sungie: haha, sorry, I forgot to charge my phone

Although your heart felt calmer, you still felt so on edge, and he hadn't even acknowledged your message...was it that bad? You inhaled deeply and decided you'd have to put these nervous feelings aside if you wanted this to go anywhere after this project.

You: it's okay, lol

You: I thought you were just busy

The moment you hit send, it delivered, and without a second of it being sent, it said in tiny letters: 'read' and he was typing.

Sungie: oh, I wasn't busy

Sungie: I actually went right back to my dorm

Sungie: I actually thought you forgot to text me and got a little worried

And just like he did, you responded right away.

You: of course not lol

You: I actually went back to my dorm too

This time, your message was left delivered for a second longer, and every second, you felt more and more anxious. Were you being too dull? Your mind rambled in those few seconds until you finally got another text.

‘Replying to : do you mind if I call you instead? I'm a lot better on the phone hahaha’↩︎

Sungie: I don't mind...

Sungie: I think I'm better on the phone than I am texting too so I'd like that more hahahaahahahahaha

Sungie: is now okay for you?

Your eyes went wide...he responded to it? Of course, he did, but it still shocked you. His liking of the idea especially dumbfounded you, originally you thought that asking to call him instead of texting was a little too pushy for him or that he'd feel uncomfortable. But this blew your mind.

You: Now is fine

Just as you were typing another message, your phone began to ring, and your heart pounded against your chest so hard that it rang through your ears, and your stomach was filled with butterflies. Your shaky hands held your phone as you smiled and took a second to collect yourself before answering the FaceTime call. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him. Jisung’s phone was already set up, and he was sitting right in front of it—his cheeks as rosy as could be with a shy smile that made your knees feel weak even as you sat down. He cleared his throat, nervously pushing his hair back as he said softly in a shy tone, "Uhm, hi." You couldn't hold back the smile on your face as he asked cutely, "Did I call too fast?" You laughed a little and shook your head as you sat your phone down in front of you. "No..." The awkward silence between the two of you didn't feel too bad. For a second, you both just sat staring at each other and fiddling with your thumbs until Jisung finally spoke.

"Sorry, I don't mean to stare...I'm a little nervous," He said. You wanted to scream at how cute he was, and his shy tone matched his gentle, and deep voice so perfectly. How could you not swoon? "It's okay," You said with a laugh. "I'm nervous, too," He smiled even more and laughed as he looked away and cleared his throat again. "But this is good, and it'll help us with our project if we're both nervous...so let's try to talk a lot."

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes to hours. Before you both knew it, three hours had passed, and you had jumped from every subject possible—from your favorite teachers, to your favorite foods and movies. It only took a few minutes for him to open up to you. To your surprise, so much was hiding underneath his seemingly cold and calm exterior. He talked about his interests so passionately and listened to yours so attentively, responding and asking questions when you mentioned something you liked, even though it seemed like he already knew about some of them. The conversation was going so smoothly that you had forgotten what you should be doing. Neither of you could care about that right now though—the relaxed and comfortable atmosphere was just too good for you to return to work.

“Lemon milk tea?” You laughed as you questioned his odd choice, “That’s the drink you’d pick if you could only drink one thing for a whole month?” Jisung nodded as he laughed. “It’s so good, I could drink that for two months straight if I had to.” You shook your head with a smile and rolled over on your back, holding your phone above your face. This time Jisung returned your question to you, “Well, what would yours be?” He asked.

You hummed playfully and jokingly said, “Water.” As he laughed at your joke, you could hear a door open and a voice in the background asking, “Are you talking to yourself?” Immediately, Jisung stopped laughing and looked in the direction the voice came from. “Uhm, hold on.” You nodded as he muted the call and stood up. Laying on your back, you smiled as you happily waited for him to return; you hadn’t been in such a good mood in so long, especially because of a guy.

You couldn’t believe that Jisung was showing so much interest in you. The only time you saw him seem even remotely interested in anything was when he was in class if he had to speak. Just thinking about it made you like him even more. As he rushed back to his phone, he quickly picked it up and unmuted it, then asked; “Could I call you back later? My roommates are back.” You nodded and smiled, saying happily, “Sure, I don’t mind.” He looked at you one last time with a smile and said, “Okay...” Sounding just as happy as you. As happily as he did, you muttered a soft “Okay.” before he finally hung up, you pressed your phone against your chest and closed your eyes tightly as you silently squealed and kicked your feet.

[theflyindutchwoman]

Hey! How are you holding up? Just finished the episode and I haven't really recovered. I am sad, I am frustrated, I don't really know what's happening? I thought they were mature and Tim is so dumb right now, I can't even.

And Lucy? I can't even start to imagine what she's going through. She has been so badass for the 5 seasons and this season she just gets fail after fail and loss after loss and doesn't even get a good job storyline.

So sorry I didn't reply sooner but I first wanted to take a little step back in order to fully digest the episode. As much as the waiting is killing me, I actually appreciate the hiatus for that. I imagine your feelings may have changed a bit as well since then… or that was the impression I got from our different conversations here and there. How are you feeling now? A bit better or still frustrated?

I'm going to start with Lucy. I was rewatching the beginning of season 5 and this is hitting even harder now. Not because of the pining era. But because the narrative was already showing her isolation back then. I couldn't quite put my finger on why her storyline in season 6 felt so familiar but now I get it. This is merely the continuation.

As we all noticed, the scene of Tim breaking up with her had a very similar vibe to the one at the end of 5.02. But think back of when she went to Nyla for advice about going to UC school, when she was trying to confide to Aaron who was too caught up in his own drama to hear her… or when she spent hours locked in a freezer because no one realised she was missing - besides Tim, that is. And then, there was the whole Rosalind thing where Lucy had to push through her own trauma to help Chris deal with his and help Bailey stay calm. But no one ever took the time to ask her how she was doing with all of this (on screen). They all had good reasons, by the way, this isn't me trying to paint them as the bad guys. But this still has an eerie similarity to what is happening right now. Only there has been no payoff for any of this. Yet. It didn't seem to go anywhere. Until now. Same with her career : she nailed UC Academy, something that was supposed to help her standout come promotion time… She helped the FBI on a raid, she was asked to be the acting Watch Commander, she was told that the whole station had her back… And yet, none of this paid off either. Yet. So this is a great opportunity to finally connect all the dots that have been dropped for the past two seasons and give Lucy the amazing arc she deserves. I sincerely hope this will be the case.

As for Tim… Look, the reason why I didn't want a breakup (besides the fact that I dislike this trope so much), is that I was afraid that it would cheapen the whole "worth the effort / worth the risk" speech. You can't say that and leave at the first difficulty without downplaying the whole story. So I'm glad that the writers were able to find a way to circumvent that issue by showing Tim completely unravelling. Because this isn't about him thinking Lucy is not worth the effort or the risk… This is about him thinking HE is not worthy of her. And that changes everything. For me, at least. I still get the frustration. I still wish this storyline would have been done with them sticking together and trying to work through it. But I can understand his perspective, why he thought this would be better for her. And I can see how that could make them stronger in the end. So, just like with Lucy, I hope Tim's arc will be treated properly and carefully. I need to see the payoff, the progress… I need to see them heal. Separately and then, together. It's always hard to see where a story is going when it is still unfolding… But for now, I choose to remain optimistic and hopeful. Does that help you even a tiny bit?

[eri-pl]

For @morgoth-into-the-void-week day 2: the Void. Again, not much Morgoth in this, mostly talking about… well, about today's topic. Science/philosophy without plot. I think I like those.

Athrabeth Finrod ah Ilmare

AKA too much astronomy

"I don't know," said Ilmare with a smile, just as Finrod approached her and bowed. She sat on the grass, among bloming white crocuses, contrasting against her dark blue robe. A wide view of Aman stretched in front of them, perfectly clear despite the height.

Finrod smiled too, partially to chase away his irritation. "I haven't even said anything."

"Everyone knows your kind of questions. The fate of Men. And Elves. And the end of Arda. Why else would you climb up here?"

"I was visiting my grandmother, it's not far to climb here from her house. Yes, I decided to use this opportunity to ask you a question, my lady. But it has less to do with death or time, and more with the far reaches of the sky."

"Sit down then, as this may be a long discussion. Time and the far reaches… they are not as different as you may think. But ask, then, so that I will not keep answering the wrong questions."

Finrod sat somewhat below her, as respect for a Maia dictated, but still close enough to make the conversation feel more friendly than formal. "What is the Door of Night? What lies beyond it?"

Ilmare blinked. "Is this about your cousins?"

"No, not really. I know— I met them." Finrod shook his head, focusing on happier thoughts. "It's about many things. About the limits of Ea. Earendil goes through the Door, and yet he does not leave it. But when Morgoth was thrown… The way Lord Manwë spoke about it, everybody spoke about it was as if he ceased to exist, or at least, if that's even possible, somewhat ceased. Yet, it is said that he will one day return and Earendil—" He stopped, seeing Ilmare's displeased expression.

"Said by whom?"

Finrod moved away, even moreso with his mind than his body. "The wise."

"If so, then they aren't as wise as you deem them. Who would say such things? Rúmil? It does sound like Rúmil. I am not demanding an answer. I do respect your willingness to protect the reputation of others. Even if they are not wise." She shook her head, silver hair sparkling in the sun. "Whoever said this, do not take your lore from them. I can show you the limits of Ea."

For a while he did not know what to say.

"Not the limits you seem more interested in," added Ilmare, "but one that shall answer this question."

An invitation hung in the air, an unseen plea, and Finrod yielded to it. Darkness seemed to surround him, filled with countless stars, and in the middle of the darkness there was something like a ring, or a star that was empty inside, a crown of fire surrounding a deep darkness not unlike the one that came when the Trees had died. The starlit void twisted around it.

"The Door of Night lead to Ilmen, through which Earendil sails." Those words seemed to echo in the emptiness around, spoken in Ilmare's clear, melodic voice. "And nothing can leave Ea within Time, or enter it, except spirits of the Children. And prayers, messages, yes, this too. But as for beings, only the spirits of the both kindreds may come, and the spirits of Men may leave. And yet—"

The empty star seemed to move closer, but its shape twisted and trembled, like a miswrought glamour.

"Unfortunately, I do not know how do they look when seen with bodily eyes, and I can imagine only this much. Those things do not have a name, but I think of them as Doors of Nothing, or Doors of Forever. Nothing living can stand their closeness. Nothing that is of the matter of Ea. I tried to look at them embodied, but couldn't— they unravel everything that is not spirit. They unravel the Time itself."

Ice crept up Finrod's spine and he was suddenly back on the sunny meadow, trembling, his heart racing.

Ilmare stared at him.

"So—" he managed to say "—so it is, indeed, terrible? but no, it can't— It can't be."

She smiled gently, and slowly reached towards his head, and when he leaned in, started stroking his hair, as if Finrod was but a child. And like a child he did feel now.

"No, it is not terrible. It is strange, and not meant to be touched. But those are part of Ea, and, as each part, necessary. They proved necessary. For you see, Morgoth was bound to his body, by his own choices, but nonethless strongly."

Her hand at his head was warm and calming, and Finrod closed his eyes, letting the sun color his vision red.

Ilmare continued. "And those Doors… if we looked at Morgoth, if I showed you the one he was thrown into, when he reaches it —which I will not show you, as you are already scared enough— you would see him forever falling, stoped in place, unable to reach the center. But for him, from what my lady told me, for him it is a mere moment, and then he falls. And then nobody knows, but I think this means that we shall meet him when Time itself ends, because only then those two stories can meet."

For him? For us? This was not how time was supposed to work. And yet, if Lady Varda herself had said that… "I think I need some time to think about what you told me. Thank you, my lady, and I apologize for rejecting your vision."

Ilmare looked at him with a warm smile. "You do not need to apologize. I know that the Children are scared by things we cannot predict, and amazed by surprising things, and enraged… After all those years, you are still a riddle to us. Please, visit me if you will have more questions, I did enjoy this conversation. I will try to be less terryfying the next time."

As the Maia went away, and the last glimmer of silver embroidery of her cloak dissapeared behind the turn of a mountain path, Finrod lay on the meadow. Something she had said echoed in his head, but he couldn't say what. It still felt like a riddle than like an answer, but neverthless it pulled at his heart softly but deeply, with the feeling he hadn't felt since he died. What had she said? What about the empty star was so important?

No matter how terryfying the vision had been, this was just the beginning of his research.

[spark-my-nature]

It Takes Three to Tango (5) - DRW & SFK

This one's overdue, but it's also dummy thicc, so I hope that makes up for it. I love you all so bad, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love you've shown this silly little fic, I can't tell you how much it means to me. As long as y'all keep enjoying it, I'll keep writing, I'm so grateful!

Also, a big thank you to @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the brilliant ideas and the never ending encouragement <3 Do yourself a favor and go check out their incredible writing if you haven't already!

Chapter summary: It's been a couple of days, and you come home early to find something very interesting playing out on your couch. Very smutty, very fluffy (yknow, me and my usual bullshit)

Chapter WC: 12.7K | Pairings: Danny x Reader x Sam (MFM threesome with slash pairings)

Chapter warnings: 18+! Smut (handjobs, unprotected penetrative sex, unprotected anal sex), slash pairings (silly bisexual boys), language (swearing, use of derogatory terms but its all loving and in good nature), spanking if you squint, power play, mentions of infidelity, the briefest, tiniest blink of angst but it's immediately taken care of because I'm incapable of writing anybody suffering

Previous chapter | First chapter

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The sunny beautiful weather kept up into the next several days, and the gentle swishing of the warm breeze through the trees bordering your lawn was already serving to help you decompress as you juggled a few grocery bags around. Digging in your purse for the house keys, you felt the sun beating down on your neck and briefly toyed with the idea of a beach day with your boyfriend, something you were especially hopeful for once you’d seen his car in the driveway. Getting to ogle your gorgeous boyfriend in his short little yellow shorts? Yes please.

The days had been long for the boys, their stubbornness and passion keeping them going at full throttle as of late, and this was the first time in a while that Danny had been home before dusk.

It was now mid week, and after Sam had gone home Saturday afternoon, you’d hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Danny yet about… anything. You’d been working, he’d been recording, and the only time you’d see each other was in the evenings when both of you were too tired for words beyond your usual goodnights and I love yous. 

You wouldn’t say it was awkward between you, not by a stretch. But you could sense mild waves of an unidentified tension coming off of Danny when he’d walk through the door each evening, and with both of you too exhausted to have a real discussion about the recent happenings, that unfamiliar restless energy simply simmered on the back burner with a wordless promise to unravel it soon. 

Finally jutting the keys in the lock, you pushed inside, humming softly to yourself. You set down the bags and dropped your purse, kicking off your shoes with a pleased sigh. Home at last... no sign of Danny yet, though. He generally met you at the door, welcoming you home with a forehead kiss and a hug, but you supposed you weren’t usually finished work this early. He wouldn’t be expecting you yet, and you felt a prickle of mischievous excitement, hopeful to surprise him. 

That excitement was rapidly snuffed out and replaced with a worried confusion, though. From the direction of the living room, you heard it. 

A moan. 

Not Danny’s moan, no, that was a sound you knew well. You froze, listening closely as your heart drummed uncomfortably, racking your brain for any reasonable explanation or cause for the sound.

Then, again, a soft groan sounded, and this time it was immediately followed by a much more familiar grunt, one from your boyfriend’s chest. 

Your heart clenched for a second, seizing with a streak of fear and pain.

No, calm down, you told yourself, Danny wouldn’t cheat, and you knew this (at least you thought), but you couldn’t help the immediate twist of anxious pain that twisted your chest as you kept listening, silent and still in the entryway. 

Muffled and drawn out, another moan sounded from within the house, and it clicked into place for you. The most welcome, albeit unexpected cold bucket of relief washed over you as you recognized the source of the next noise. 

“F-fucking- mmm, Danny…”

Sam.

...Sam?

In all honesty, you didn’t see that coming, mostly because neither of you had really talked about Friday night’s rendezvous with the bassist aside from a few jokes and reassurances spattered throughout the rest of the weekend. And while you held a tiny shard of confusion, frustration, even a little anger at the lack of communication, the emotion that reigned over them all was this sort of voyeuristic intrigue.

Chasing after those feelings pushed you further into the house, as silently as you could manage, the thrill of catching them off guard confusingly mingling with the remaining embers of anxiety and hurt. For a flash, you felt guilty for sneaking around on them, before you indignantly shook the feeling off when you realized the hypocrisy. If they were gonna sneak around on you, then you were most definitely entitled to do the same, right? And so down the short corridor you went, toward the living room quiet as a mouse. You barely peaked your head around the corner and peered into the living room, and you were instantly knocked on your ass, on the verge of collapsing at the sight. 

Shirtless and disheveled, both men lay semi-upright, tangled across the length of the couch. Sam sprawled half on top of Danny, the latter with his hands tangled in the former’s hair and around his shoulders, holding on to him desperately as their lips muffled each other’s moans. 

Your eyes traveled hungrily to the movement of their grinding, bucking hips, and you realized each boy’s pants were undone and lazily shoved down beneath their groins.

“God, you’re so fucking hard,” Sam whined under his breath, interrupting nearly every word with a sloppy kiss to Danny’s mouth, unwilling to break apart for longer. 

Danny’s forehead pressed to Sam’s as he slipped his hands around to hold both sides of Sam’s face, his jaw slack as he attempted to catch his breath, inhibited by the relentless grinding of Sam’s cock against his own. 

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, arching his hips impossibly tighter against Sam’s. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

Sam grunted, his eyelids fluttering heavily as his back muscles flexed and rippled, his shoulders supporting his body as he kept his lithe hips rolling. He sucked in a sharp breath, pushing himself up straighter to watch his cock slide up and down alongside Danny’s. 

“Fucking shit,” he groaned, tossing his head back.

Danny’s hands smoothed down his neck, slowly palming down his chest, stopping to tweak his nipples and earning a stuttery gasp in reward. He descended further, finally landing both hands on Sam’s hips, gripping the flesh that was exposed with his jeans hanging around the swell of his ass. 

Sam paused his hips and shifted until he was balancing his bodyweight over Danny with one arm. Then with a submissive glance at the drummer’s face through his lashes, he brought the other broad, veiny hand between them and wrapped it around both their cocks together, slowly beginning to stroke them both in tandem. 

Danny hissed, eyes locking with Sammy’s as the pleasure rushed through him, the exhilaration apparent on his blissed-out face. 

Sam’s jaw hung open, drinking in his best friend’s pleasure-wracked expression. “You are so gorgeous, Daniel,” he whimpered.

Danny cracked a weak smile up at him, too distracted by the friction between his legs for much more. “So’re you, pretty boy.”

As Sam’s hips bucked involuntarily at the pet name, a spasm born of pleasure, he ground deeper into Danny’s purplish, rock-hard length and his fist jerked them both suddenly, sharp and tight. Danny’s head fell back with an almost pained-sounding moan, breaking off from the heated kiss and sending his cry of Sam’s name echoing off the walls. 

It was a gorgeous sight, the two of them absolutely lost in each other. No wonder they hadn’t heard you come home. The longer you watched, though, the harder it was becoming to stay still, hidden.

Sam let go of the two of them for a second, sighing needily at the frustrated whine Danny let out, and brought his hand to his mouth. He looked Danny in the eye as he slowly licked the flat of his tongue up his palm, coating it in spit before taking both their twitching cocks in his fist again. He huffed a whiny sound through his nose as he picked up the pace, Danny’s jaw dropping with a long, soft, moan that quivered out of him from the way Sam’s movements trembled his body. 

“Shit, Sammy,” he grunted, bucking his hips up, adding his contribution by fucking into Sam’s tight grip. 

Sam rolled his hips deeper. With the most submissive doe eyes you’d ever seen, he mumbled, his cheeks pink and breathless with the exertion, “That feel good, Daddy?” 

Oh, fuck. Well that’s all you’ll be thinking about for the rest of your life, you thought. 

Danny’s tightly furrowed brows tipped up in the middle at his words, a sharp gasp quickly followed with a loud groan. “Jesus christ,” he growled, nodding quickly as his hand behind Sam’s neck brought their foreheads together. As they panted into each other’s mouths, Danny’s low voice rumbled between the soft grunts punched out of him, “So good, uhh- so fucking good for me… such a sweet, pretty boy for Daddy, aren't you?”

 Sam whimpered loudly with a particularly delicious pump of their erections, his jaw clenching, flexing his gorgeous jawline. "Yeah," he whined desperately.

You swallowed hard, bracing yourself and stepping out into the open doorway. You leaned against the frame, crossing your arms, and when they still remained oblivious, you cleared your throat softly. 

Sam didn’t seem to notice, but Danny’s head jerked towards the sound, his eyes widening comically once they locked on you. He quickly shoved at Sam’s shoulder, hissing in his panic, “Sam, stop- stop,” to which Sam blinked up at him, confused and frustrated as he reluctantly stilled his hips. “What?” he breathed, brows knitting. 

“Babe!” Danny croaked, already hurriedly trying to tuck himself back into his pants. Sam’s head whipped to the door, his panicked expression matching Danny’s in an instant. 

“Oh fuck-“ he uttered under his breath, then rasped breathlessly, “H-Hey, doll.”

You stepped into the room, eyeing the two of them, holding up a hand to Danny, who reluctantly gave up on his futile attempt at modesty with Sam’s lithe body pinning his jeans in place. Sam, bit by bit realizing the situation at hand, went to climb off your boyfriend, but you shook your head. 

“No, no, you two stay put,” you ordered softly. 

Danny swallowed hard, his expression guilt ridden and panicked. “Honey, I- we didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry, it just kind of…” 

Sam nodded, finishing his sentence, “Just kinda happened, we didn’t- we should’ve told you, I’m sorry, it wasn’t, planned- fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll- I’m gonna go, I’m sorry.” 

Danny, for all his panic, seemed just as remorseful to see Sam leave as he was to have been caught with the boy on top of him. “Sam, wait-“

“Stop,” you interrupted, commanding but gentle. “Relax, alright? Both of you. Sam, stay, please?”

He took a breath and relaxed, only slightly, and nodded, shuffling his pants up over his hips as he adjusted to sit beside Danny as he too redressed his lower half. 

You shuffled your foot, glancing around the room. “I’m… I’m not mad. I mean, not really,” you told them, licking your lips. 

Danny let out a slow breath, and Sam nodded as he studied the rug beneath his feet. 

You shifted your weight as you rubbed your arm shyly. “Like, obviously, you guys seriously suck at communication…”

“I know, and I’m so fucking sorry baby, you’re so right, I-“

You cut off your boyfriend’s grovelling with a shake of your head and the hint of a grin. “Shh, let me talk.” He nodded apologetically and sat back into the couch cushion, looking small despite his broad frame. 

To your surprise, Sam extended a comforting arm, resting his hand over Danny’s leg and thumbing at the denim. 

Your eyes traced the movement, and you took a second to center yourself. "I know we never really set any kind of groundrules? Which is nobody’s fault in particular,” you conceded. 

Both boys peered up at you, slowly unfreezing by the minute when you continued to not flip out at them as they’d clearly expected. It was endearing in a strange way, especially with the way Sam still held his hand protectively over Danny’s thigh. 

You chewed on your lip and moved towards them, pulling the cushioned footstool that matched your lazyboy over to sit in front of them. Shyly keeping your eyes below their faces, you nodded once as you said, “I think we should… talk.”

Danny quietly agreed, “Yeah, absolutely,” joined by Sam’s tentative, “Okay.”

You swallowed, trying to land on a good place to start. Part of you selfishly wished Sam wasn’t here for this, with so much left unsaid between you and your boyfriend. You felt like you’d been caught unprepared, knowing there were things you would’ve liked to have gotten out in the open with your boyfriend alone first. Now, with Sam thrown in the mix, patiently but expectantly sitting before you, you struggled on the right words. 

With your eyes still casted down, you licked your lips again, then Danny’s hand came into view, gently holding his palm open for you. You suspected he was offering his comforting touch as an option for you, rather than just taking your hand as he usually would have done, perhaps out of fear that you were secretly, actually upset with him. You quickly took him up on it, squeezing his hand in comfort to both you and him. 

His reassuring touch put an end to the invisible stopper holding you back, and the words poured out of you.

“First of all, um... Sammy, I want you to be aware that Danny and I haven’t really, uh, talked about… you know.” 

He nodded, biting his thumbnail as he fixed you with those sweet brown eyes, and you continued. 

“So, Danny,” you looked up at him, meeting his gentle gaze, “I’m not… well, I’m not mad that you guys are…” you cracked a little smile, gesturing between them, “You know. Cause if I’m honest, I was hoping it would happen again, what happened Friday, and I think you were too. I mean, clearly,” you giggled quietly. 

Danny blushed, resting his cheek bashfully in his hand, his elbow propped on his knee. “I think that’s safe to say...” 

Sam smirked to himself, glancing at Danny from the corner of his eye before dropping his gaze to his twiddling thumbs. 

You smiled, lifting his knuckles to your lips. You then looked over at Sammy, catching his eyes. He ran his tongue between his lips. 

Addressing mostly Sam, but opening the discussion to both of them, you looked down nervously as you quietly started, “I think the only part that’s like, bothering me, is like, y’know, you guys did this without me, and like… maybe I should be, but I’m not really mad about the fact that you didn’t tell me, I’m more just… second guessing where I fit into this. I’m wondering, you know, is this… is this an us thing, or just a Sam and Danny thing…?”

Your question trailed off, and you cursed the pathetic way you asked. Danny was yours, you knew that, and it was stupid to feel like an intruder, but when you really thought about it, that’s how you felt. And the hurt and insecurity that you felt stemmed both from the fact that you loved Danny (and could be very territorial over him when you wanted to be), so the disregard for your feelings stung, especially from him. But it also stemmed from the fact that you wanted to be a part of what they did, to be included. 

You didn’t know exactly how you felt about Sam, but there was something there. You liked him, more than you'd realised for sure, and you were certain Danny felt the same. It happened so fast, so fast that you hadn’t had a chance to process it, let alone broach it with your boyfriend, and those feelings scared you enough without the whole, walking in on your boyfriend and mutual best friend on top of each other without telling you, thing.

Sam sat up straighter, more serious than you’d ever seen him, and shook his head quickly.

“No, nonono, it’s… if it’s anything, it’s an all of us thing. You really gotta believe us, dollface, we did not plan for this.” 

You blushed and nodded, satisfied with that for now. “So, will you tell me? What- what did happen, then?”

Danny glanced at Sam shyly, and Sam, meeting his eyes, smirked boyishly and fluttered those long eyelashes at him. “You’re a better storyteller than me,” he murmured, nudging Danny with his knee. 

You raised an eyebrow at your boy, cracking an expectant smirk as you leaned forward on your hands. 

Danny’s lips parted shyly, glancing between the two of you and chuckling softly after a second, “Okay, uh… we were recording, and I guess Jake had to leave, some interview thing? I dunno, but we all just packed up for the day, but somebody’s Tesla hadn’t been charging, so I said I’d drive him home.”

Sam rolled his eyes, loosely pushing air through his lips petulantly, “Yeah, yeah, anyway, we were gonna go do something-“

“-go to the beach,” Danny filled in.

“-Yeah, so we came here first, and…” Sam looked down and giggled, shrugging one shoulder as his cheeks pinked endearingly. “He asked if I wanted a drink. Such a great host, you know,” he glanced up at you, then back down to the safety of his hands, “… and then we…”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, making you grin wider at how cute they were being, dancing around the subject of their obvious desire for each other. 

He mumbled, “Yeah, then we were just…” 

Sam finished softly, holding his hands out in awkward offering, “…kissing.” 

You snorted, making both of them look up at you, baffled and amused as you laughed at them. 

Shaking your head, you giggled out, “That was some intense kissing.”

Sam snickered with a bratty eyeroll, and Danny chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his curls. “Like he said, it just kinda happened.” Sam nodded his agreement, and Danny squeezed your hand. “I’m so sorry, honey. You know I’d… I’d never…” he shook his head slowly, pleadingly, and you nodded understandingly, squeezing back. 

“I know baby,” you assured, leaning forward, smiling softly when Danny immediately met you halfway for a short kiss. He smiled, relieved and loving, whispering as he pulled away reluctantly, “I love you, so so fucking much.”

You smiled back, the last of your insecurities fading away, “I love you, too, Dan.”

Sam shifted on the cushion, and you glanced at him, unable to stop the way your eyes lowered to his pouty lips. 

He watched, curious, but too shy to say anything about it so soon after such a peculiar interaction, though he noticeably glanced at yours too. He took a controlled breath through his nose, and you watched his tongue dart between his lips, wetting them with that look of longing he seemed to carry with him whenever you were around. Your heart fluttered, feeling some deja-vu with the tension that suddenly manifested in the air. 

Nobody had warned you about what comes after a threesome with your best friend. How could anyone expect you to feel and act completely normal around Sam when you had intimate visuals playing like an NSFW slideshow in your mind’s eye of how his gorgeous face twisted in pleasure as you and Danny absolutely-

Danny softly cleared his throat, and your gaze shot back to him, jarringly broken out of Sam’s spell. 

“Um…” he held your gaze, keeping your hand in his tight hold as if expecting you to run away. “Can I just say what I’m thinking, and nobody gets pissed off at me?”

You chuckled, nodding, “Please, babe, you go for it.” 

Danny inhaled deeply and blew it out through pursed lips. “I… think… that this,” he gestured vaguely, shutting his eyes as he tented his fingers over the bridge of his nose, speaking into his hands, “…is more than sex for me. A-and I think you feel the same way,” he nodded toward you, then turned to Sam, looking considerably more nervous, “…and I… well, I hope that you feel that way, too.”

Sam stared at Danny, his eyes laser focused, and after a few tense seconds, he slowly nodded. “Yeah,” he admitted in a whisper, sucking his lip between his teeth. 

Danny nodded and turned to you, raising his brows. You blushed after glancing quickly at Sam, who sat raptly watching you for your answer. “Me too.”

Danny relaxed slightly, cracking a nervous grin. “So… I dunno, where does that leave us?”

Sam licked his lips, thoughtfully trailing his eyes around the room. “Well, you guys are so disgustingly in love, it’s hard to be in the same room with,” he teased, smirking, lifting his eyes to your face. 

Your heart fluttered, smiling shyly at him, and he grinned back, tilting his head to the side. “I like you a lot, doll, I’m not afraid to admit that, I just wasn’t sure if I should.”

You giggled, a hang clutching your imaginary pearls. “What?? The Sammy I know would never hold back on saying something he shouldn’t!”

“Well, actually, I just said it anyway, so point proven.”

You moved your hand to your cheek, hiding your face a little from him as he sat back with that stupid, know-it-all smirk.

“I like you, too.”

Danny chuckled, and when you looked at him curiously, he shrugged, “This is just... so fucking weird.”

You giggled, and Sam shot him a funny look. “The fuck do you mean by that?”

Danny held out his hands in front of him, “Oh, I dunno, my girlfriend admitting she likes another guy right in front of me? Is that not a strange thing to you?” 

Sam smirked, elbowing him. “Nothing new, all your ex-girlfriends secretly wanted me, too.” 

Danny shoved Sam with a snort of laughter, “Fuck off, you know what I mean.”

Sam snickered, “Yeah, I know what you mean, but I dunno, it doesn’t feel that weird to me.”

You giggled and nodded, shrugging, and Danny grinned at you. “Yeah, that’s the thing, it doesn’t feel, like, wrong,” he agreed.

You smirked at Danny playfully, “Everything is always weird with you guys, maybe we’re just used to it.”

Sam laughed, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You giggled innocently, shrugging and sitting up straighter. Danny rolled his eyes playfully, shifting slightly to face Sam more directly. When he had Sam’s attention, his grin turned more serious. 

“Do you…” he trailed off, hopeful and expectant. Sam chuckled, growing bashful as he eyed Danny’s face. “Do I what?” he softly teased, “Like you?”

Danny blushed, saying nothing as he blinked at his friend. Sam licked his lips, then placed his hand back on Danny’s thigh. 

“Of course I do,” he softly confessed, his eyes tracking his own hand’s movement back and forth. 

“I’m no geometry professor, but it seems like that’s a complete triangle to me.”

Both boys laughed softly at your observation, and it fell quiet for a moment. Danny holding your hand, and Sam’s hand on Danny’s thigh, you extended your arm forward to touch Sam’s knee instinctively, closing that triangle.

Your touch made Sam’s breathing catch in his throat, and your eyes locked on each other. Your stomach erupted in butterflies all over again. 

“So… where does that leave us?” He pondered, more flirtatious than Danny had been before. 

You looked at Danny, and he smiled at you with a raise of his brows, as if to say, ‘You’re running the show, babe.’

Grinning, you looked back to Sam and said, “I mean… should we just see where this goes?”

Sam leaned toward you a little more, “Yeah, fine by me,” he grinned. 

Danny nodded, “Should probably have some ground rules, though.”

You smiled as you toyed with the rip in Sam’s jeans. “Probably, yeah, you whores.” 

Sam barked out a laugh, and Danny blushed, giggling to himself. 

“Kay,” Sam shook his head, amused, “Well, how do we feel about like, fucking without one of us there?”

You smiled wide, shyly giggling at his bluntness as you thought for a minute. You were about to answer when Danny spoke up, “I think I’m okay with that, if you are, sweetheart.”

You grinned shyly, heart fluttering under the suggestive heat of Sam’s smirk. “I’m okay with it too. I mean, I’d like to know about it, preferably, but I know things just happen sometimes. As long as we communicate, I don’t have a problem with it.”

Sam leaned back into the couch cushion, folding his arms behind his head with that self-assured, cocky smirk stretching his lips. “Well then, lucky me,” he purred. 

You bit your lip, failing to conceal a bashful smirk as you ignored him. “Are you guys gonna tell Jake and Josh?”

Danny glanced at Sam, who shook his head dismissively. “Those nosy assholes don’t need to know what I do with my dick,” he said bluntly, making you laugh and nod. "I'm not gonna hide it, but I'm not gonna make some weird, confusing announcement."

Danny gave a soft smile and shrugged his indifference. “S’up to you, baby.”

Sam’s eyes widened at the pet name, and you smiled wide, surprised but endeared as you watched Danny’s shoulders stiffen, his lips parting in surprise at himself as his cheeks flushed pink. 

Sam blushed even brighter, a crooked grin finding its way across his face. “Oh,” he said quietly, looking absolutely smitten.

Danny broke into an embarrassed smile, chuckling awkwardly, “I- sorry, I-“ 

Sam shook his head as he leaned forward, lips pressing over Danny’s to shut him up, and Danny let out the cutest little upward-lilted coo of surprise. Sam smiled visibly against his lips, and Danny melted, kissing him back gently, bringing his free hand up to cup Sam’s face. 

You squeezed Danny’s hand longingly, and he pulled away with a flustered smile. He beckoned you over, “C’mere, baby,” scooching to the side and patting the space between him and Sam. 

You quickly switched seats, turning your head to Danny first once settled. He smiled down at you lovingly, so familiar and gentle, and you felt safe. You leaned forward and met his lips in a soft kiss, melting into the sweet warmth of his mouth as he deepened it with a low hum. 

A hand came to rest on your thigh, and you broke from your boyfriend to face its owner, smiling boyishly at you, his eyes hopefully dipping to your lips and back. You nodded almost imperceptibly, and Sam’s smile widened, leaning forward until his lips met yours. 

And God, did this feel good. Sandwiched again between them, even better than the first time now that you were all on the same page. Danny’s lips latched onto your exposed neck, and you let a moan of surprise permeate the kiss, the sound egging on Sam. His cute button-tipped nose brushed your cheek as he enthusiastically indulged in your kisses. 

He slid his hand further up your lap, bunching the fabric of your flowy shorts up around your hips as he kneaded and pawed at your inner thigh. When he swiped his fingers beneath the hem over your bare skin, you shivered, and he was pulled back to reality, parting from the kiss with a sharp, wet sounding gasp for air. His eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated as they focused. 

Danny’s hand mirrored Sam’s, slipping between your legs to squeeze the flesh of your other inner thigh. You bit your lip, a rush of heat making your brain lag for a second, your eyelids fluttering. Danny smirked as he sucked at the delicate skin behind your ear. 

“Mmmhhh,” you softly whined, brows knitting as Sam’s nose brushed your cheek, teasing you with his lips millimeters away. 

“You want me?” he rasped in a whisper, the corners of his ridiculously attractive lips quirking up when you nodded weakly and whined, “Yeah, Sammy.”

Danny lifted his face from your abused neck, licking a line up your racing jugular as he ascended. You whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes open already, something a very smug Danny seemed to notice. 

Murmuring seductively against your cheek, he smirked, “You want me too? You want us both, baby?” He nudged at your cheek with his beautifully arched nose, and Sam’s fingers rubbed gently teasing patterns up and down your inner thigh. 

You let out a tortured sigh, losing the fight and closing your eyes. “Oh god… yeah.”

Nimble bass fingers untied the string holding your shorts around your hips as one drumstick calused palm scraped gently down to curl under your knee. Danny waited until Sam had wiggled your shorts past your ass to take over and tug them off, your foot flicking them off to the side. He mouthed his lips along the shell of your ear as he lifted your knee, bending your leg to rest one foot on the cushion. 

Sam’s eyes threatened to stare a hole into the damp spot forming through the baby blue cotton between your legs. He licked his lips, placing his hand over your lower abdomen, as he snuck a quick glance at you and Danny. You spread your thighs a little further, smirking as the boys’ eyes met and Danny’s hand slid up your thigh with an inviting nod between your legs. 

Gently, locking eyes with you, Sammy smoothed his hand down, tucking his fingers under your panties and grazing his middle fingertip down and back up through your folds. Sam’s eyelids drooped with lust as he sighed out a low groan, “Oh my god, you’re wet.”

Danny purred against your cheek as he watched your underwear stretch over his friend’s knuckles. “Oh yeah? What a good girl, baby, dripping all over his hand.”

Your eyes closed of their own accord, a humiliating whimper slipping unexpectedly past your lips. 

A second set of lips evened out Danny’s, tugging at your other earlobe and flicking his tongue against it. Sam’s fingers spread you open, rubbing in loose, lazy circles. The slick noises drew a growl from Danny’s chest, and you fluttered your eyes open weakly, only to catch Danny’s tongue wetting his fingers. His eyes flashed dangerously at you as he closed his lips around them, the light catching the glisten from his saliva as he pulled them out and joined Sam’s party for one in your panties. 

You moaned sharply as you felt Danny’s fingers take over circling your clit, switching into tighter, faster circles, while Sam’s middle and ring finger slowly curled into your heat. 

Your head rolled against the back cushion, looking up at Sammy as he lifted his face away. Your needy and glazed over expression made his nostrils flare in hunger, and his lips parted absently. “How’s it feel, beautiful girl?” he rasped quietly. “Our fingers feel nice?”

You whimpered, brows tightly knit as you bucked against both their hands, working away at your wet center in incredible synchrony. “So nice, I fucking-“ a deeper curl of his fingers had you keening pathetically. “-shit, like that, yeah,” you mewled. 

“Yeah?” he cocked a smug eyebrow, “S’that the spot?” He drug the pads of his fingers against your walls, and gave you a dirty smirk when you jolted and whined. Danny’s fingers paused their languid circles, his pointer and middle finger parting and slipping down along either side of your clit, squeezing together in a slippery hug as he pulled them back up. 

Your jaw hung open, your gaze unfocusing as you blinked distantly at the ceiling. You heard Sam’s dark chuckle by your ear as Danny returned to his expert massage to your clit. 

Craving more, more friction, more of them, you swallowed dryly. “Fuck me?” you softly pleaded, voice hoarse already. 

Danny playfully nipped the apple of your cheek, whispering teasingly, “Who? Me or Sam?”

Sammy echoed, “Yeah doll, who’s cock d’you want?” 

As his fingers pumped in and out of you faster, Danny moved his lips back to the shell of your ear, nibbling gently and murmuring with that low, breathy voice. “We both wanna be inside you so bad.” 

“So fuckin’ bad, beautiful, you got me addicted to that tight little pussy,” Sam confirmed, a touch of begging in his tone contrasting deliciously with Danny’s domineering rumble. 

You whined, reaching your hands up to grab at both boy’s necks, rolling your hips into their talented hands. “Both, I- fucking christ- both of you, take turns, or whatever you want, please?” 

Sam’s forehead plopped against your temple as he breathed out a strained whimper. “Shit,” he breathed. 

Danny removed his fingers from your clit, his hand rising to your chin. He grabbed your face firmly, his two glistening fingers forcing into your mouth as he turned you to face him. You sucked his fingers, lapping lazily at the pads of them as you slowly focused your eyes on his gorgeous, pleased face. His filthy, challenging grin would’ve had your knees buckling had you been standing. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest little whore,” he grit the last word through his teeth, his grip tightening slightly around your jaw. You inhaled sharply through your nose and nodded around his hand as best you could. 

“What a naughty little thing,” came Sam’s voice, far too smug for your liking. “You a little slutty for us, babe?”

Jesus christ. 

Danny’s hand suddenly let go, and in a flash, Sam found himself in the same boat that you were just in, locked into your boyfriend’s firm grip. 

“Not sure where you’re getting all this attitude from, Sammy,” he all but sneered, Sam’s shuddery inhale threatening to bring a smirk to your face. 

“I was just- ah!” Danny slipped his hand around to tighten his fist around Sam’s hair, tugging at the root near the back of the brunette’s head, effectively interrupting his pitiful excuses. 

“You what?” Danny smirked, slowly rising to his feet as he leaned over Sam’s face. 

Sam’s eyes, wide and submissive, blinked up at him as he licked his lips nervously. “Nothing…!”

Danny cocked his head, arrogantly shaking his head and hovering his lips just out of Sam’s pouted reach. “Good boy,” he purred. 

Sam’s eyes flew shut as he bit back a groan. 

You curled your fingers sweetly around Danny’s bicep, fixing him with a pleading look. When he met your eyes, you fluttered your eyelashes and asked, “Bedroom?”

Danny grinned at you rather ferally, then gave a quick nod and grabbed both yours and Sam’s hands. 

He marched you both down the hall, you and Sam sharing a quick, bashfully excited grin from the corner of your eyes before Danny gently but firmly turned you around to the bed and pushed you down, side by side and equally impatient for his next move. 

Danny stepped over you first, brushing a gentle hand along your cheek as he gazed down at you tenderly. “Can you be my sweet girl and sit quiet for a minute, baby?” 

You smiled and nodded up at him, pressing a chaste kiss to his wrist. He thumbed once over your cheek and smiled back sweetly, booping your nose just to hear your giggle before he stepped over in front of Sam.

Sam leaned back on his arms, paying close attention as the drummer stood before him. Danny brought a hand to Sam’s cheek, much like yours, and his eyes followed as he trailed his fingers lightly down Sammy’s neck and collarbones. 

Sam’s breathing stuttered, licking his lips as he let Danny’s delicate touch brush admiringly across his upper half. “What about me?” he challenged softly, flustered but smirking playfully nonetheless. 

Danny raised a brow, lifting his heavy gaze to Sam’s, before placing his palm firmly in the center of Sammy’s chest and shoving him down flat on his back. Sam gasped, the sound choked and ending with a garbled whine as Danny followed, crawling over top of him to hover over his lithe form.

Gripping the bassist’s jaw lightly, Danny brushed his lips ever so faintly against Sam’s as he murmured lowly, “You wanna be a good boy for me, too?”

Sam’s wide eyes blinked up at Danny in a sort of lustful awe, nodding his head and licking his lips. A smirk creeped across Danny’s lips, nodding along teasingly as he brushed their lips together again. 

With the most arrogant, shit-eating tone, he rumbled low in his chest, “Yeah? Are you daddy’s good boy?”

Sam’s face flushed wildly as his eyes closed tight, but the moan he tried to conceal was unmistakable. Though as pathetically needy as Sam surely felt, you could swear you had it worse. Arousal coursed through your veins like adrenaline, and it threatened to send you into cardiac arrest, as your boyfriend groaned like he’d tasted the finest wine and his tongue languidly slipped through his parted lips to lick across Sam’s pouted ones. 

Sam slunk his arms around Danny’s neck, pulling the man down on top of him into a deep, needy kiss. His long fingers raked through the drummers silken curls, his brows furrowing as he sighed a moan of satisfaction into the kiss. Stealthily, Danny shuffled his knees up around Sam’s hips to balance himself, then smoothed his hands up the wiry arms that held him in place. He then gracefully pried Sam’s hands away, taking them in his own, still slow and sweet, before pinning them above his head and breaking the kiss, biting his lip at Sam’s bratty little whine. 

You found the presence of mind, through the absolute brain fog of arousal, to cheekily goad them on. “Little desperate, aren’t we Sammy?”

Sam’s head whipped over to you, jaw dropping as he prepared to retort with a sassy comeback, but Danny eradicated any chance of that with a firm roll of his hips into Sam’s stiff crotch. 

“Aht,” he warned, “Don’t make me shut you up, Sammy.” 

Instantly, your cheek was forgotten, as the bassist bit his lip. Once again doe-eyed and smirking for Danny, Sam murmured with a shake in his voice, “…and, uh, for curiosity’s sake… how would you do that exactly?”

Raising an eyebrow at him, Danny wordlessly gripped Sam’s jaw in his broad hand, and when Sam’s jaw instinctively fell open between his thumb and fingers, his open mouth was promptly filled with Danny’s pointer and middle fingers. You watched Danny’s eyes droop in lust as Sam’s widened submissively, obediently closing his lips around the callused digits and sucking demurely. 

“There’s plenty of ways I can occupy your smart little mouth,” Danny sneered arrogantly, “The only problem is finding one that you won’t fucking like so much.”

You ventured a hand over to lightly rub over Sam’s chest, amusement evident in your cheeky addition, “That’s awful slutty of you, Sammy.” 

Danny’s shoulders stiffened, and he kept his eyes on Sam as he warned, “Glass houses, babygirl, glass houses.”

Sam’s smirk became clearer when Danny slipped his fingers out of his mouth. “Yeah, sweetheart, glass houses,” he mocked condescendingly. 

You shot him a petulant glare. “I thought you were told to shut up? Or are you not daddy’s good boy?”

Sam tried to sit up indignantly, blushing, but was restricted by your boyfriend still pinning him to the mattress. His mouth opened with another smart ass remark, but a snarl from Danny’s chest stole the words from his tongue. 

“Enough! Not another fucking word from either of you,” he barked, shooting Sam a dominant, warning look as he straightened off of him with a final, parting squeeze to his jaw. 

You both watched Danny nervously as he loomed over you both, running his tongue over his teeth. 

“Up,” he grit, tipping his head back. 

You stumbled to your feet, but Sam’s bratty streak flared up full force, and he cocked a sassy eyebrow and eyed up Danny challengingly. “Why?” he huffed. 

You rolled your eyes with a knowing smirk, and Danny smoothly articulated, “Because I told you to, Samuel, and you will listen to me, or you won’t like what happens next.” 

Sam scoffed but clambered to his feet beside you, and Danny gave him a condescending smile. “Good.” He leaned back on his hands against your shared dresser and eyed you both admiringly. “Now take each other’s clothes off.”

You looked up at Danny as you echoed his command back in your head. He met your eyes and gave you a smug smile, winking at you. You blushed and smiled back, then giggled as you felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder. 

Facing him, he fixed you with that butterfly-inducing, boyish smirk of his. He rested his hands at your shoulders and bit his lip. Those hands began roaming, from your shoulders towards the hem of your shirt, as slowly and patiently as his eagerness allowed, taking his time to subtly palm at your tits through the fabric. 

“Mmm… he doesn’t have to tell me twice,” Sam softly flirted, lifting his honey brown eyes from your midsection to meet your flustered gaze. 

Lopsidedly smiling, you helped him lift your shirt over your head and quickly began working his pants off. “First time for everything, I suppose,” you teased, dropping to your knees to tug his pants down his thighs. 

Sam’s breath hitched, his brain rebooting at the sight of you below him like that, and pride bloomed in your chest from his lack of a sassy retort. 

His briefs, caught in the bunch of fabric, were pulled down as well, and the tip of his erection grazed your chin as it sprung up. Nearly forgetting about the third party watching silently beside you, you leaned forward instinctively and kitten licked over the delicate slit at the tip of Sammy’s cock. 

His resulting hiss of surprise was almost lost under Danny’s softly, but rigid order, “Nope, I said undress, not suck his dick, get up.”

You blinked over at Danny, pouting, “But Danny, I-“

He shifted his weight, cocking an unimpressed brow at you, and you gave up, rising to your feet to level yourself with the boy who was suddenly singing a very different tune.

Sam wordlessly rushed to tug your panties down past your ass, letting them drop to the floor and stepping even closer to you as he reached around behind your ribcage to nimbly unclasp your bra. His fingers slipped under the straps, brushing them off your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground, his hands immediately cupping and squeezing your tits appreciatively. The softest breathy moan breezed past his lips, but now it was Sam’s turn to be interrupted. 

“Sam. Bed,” Danny grit, “On your back.”

Sam’s eyes flashed with that same needy, aroused glaze, obeying Danny, even giving him a little nod as he sat at the edge of the bed, swinging his legs up and laying flat, lacing his hands over his stomach as he turned his head to look up at you both patiently. 

“Good boy,” Danny purred, sounding pleasantly surprised and pleased, and he tipped his head back to peer at Sam down his nose. You licked your lips, watching Sam’s cock twitch against his flexing stomach with longing. 

Danny’s fingers brought you out of your daze, tipping up your chin as he smirked down at you. “Hi, beautiful,” he sweetly brushed the back of his hand over your cheek, and you smiled lovingly up at his gorgeous face, preening under his praise. “Can you do me a favor, my love?” 

Your heart fluttered as you rested a hand on his chest and nodded, “Yeah, gorgeous, what do you need?” 

He casted a playful glance in Sam’s direction before refocusing on you fondly. “I want you to go sit on his lap, and then do exactly as I tell you. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you replied, seductively playful, thoroughly enjoying the way his jaw clenched subtly through his slow inhale. He shook his head fondly, lightly smacked your ass, and you gave him a cheeky grin and turned on your heel, climbing onto the bed beside Sam’s lithe form. 

“Hey,” you flirted, planting your hands on his chest and swinging one leg over his hips to seat yourself atop him, his cock parting your slick lips, pressed between you and his abdomen in a wet hug.

His gasp shuddered out of him and was joined by his hands shooting to hold your hips tightly. His fingers flexed tight, white knuckling the flesh. “Ohh, god, you little devil,” he grinned lazily, struggling to not buck into you. 

Smirking down at him, you brought your thumb to your mouth, wetting the pad of it and dropping it down to rub circles gently into the delicate, vulnerable underside of the head of his cock.

Sam whined, wincing in surprised pleasure as his head rolled sideways, face burying into the pillow as he writhed under you. “Shitshitshit-“

“Okay, hands off now.”

You lifted your hand immediately, shooting a proud grin Danny’s way when Sam sighed from either disappointment or relief, you couldn’t be sure. 

Pleased with your listening, Danny cocked his head and drank in the sight of you both. Your attention was drawn to the movement below his waist, absently rolling your hips into Sam’s as you watched your boyfriend rubbing over his bulge. 

“Mmm- Danny,” Sam choked, swallowing hard, “What now?”

Danny hummed thoughtfully, casually popping open the button of his jeans. “Grind on him, princess.”

Nodding quickly, you started rutting your hips against Sam’s steadily, slipping his length up and down through your folds. Sam hissed, his eyelids fluttering closed as his brows tipped up in the middle. His face the picture of pleasure, he moaned softly, encouraging you with his hands kneading and pulling at your hips. “Fuuuuuck, sweetheart,” he rasped.

Danny grinned, a dangerous gleam in his expression. “Stop.”

You bit your lip hard, reluctantly stilling atop him. Sam huffed, lolling his head impatiently to face Danny, unimpressed and pouting. Danny snickered at his expression, nodding his permission to you to keep going. 

You kept your eyes on your boyfriend’s as you wiggled slowly forward and back, your stomach flipping with anticipation as Sam’s cock slipped frictionless through your folds. Danny’s little smirk morphed into something darker, tugging his zipper down as he held the heated eye contact. His fingers slipped beneath the band of his boxers, and he flicked his gaze to where you were soaking his best friend’s cock rhythmically. 

“Stop,” he articulated again.

Sam expelled a puff of air beneath you, and you were broken away from Danny’s spell. Glancing down at the man beneath you, you had to bite back a whimper, fighting not to disobey Danny’s instruction. Sam’s face twisted in his growing frustration, his forehead beginning to shine with sweat. It had you suddenly realizing just how hot it had become in the room, three bodies warming the space with the heat of the growing, restless neediness. 

Sam swallowed harshly, “Wish you weren’t such a good little girl for him.” His eyes flashed up to meet yours, a teasing glint peeking through his frustration. Danny huffed a smug laugh beside you.

You giggled softly, dropping your gaze to his nipple as you swiped a thumb over it, rolling it against your forefinger. “Oh yeah?”

He sighed and let his head lean to the side as he gazed up at you, fond and needy through those long lashes. “Mhmm. I think you should be my good girl,” he rasped, rolling his hips enticingly, sending the tip of his cock slipping just barely, teasingly, into your clit.

You whined softly, acutely aware of the man leaning against the dresser beside you, watching you both interact quietly. 

Sam watched you lick your lips longingly, and he smirked, smoothing his hands up your sides slowly. “Sounds nice, doesn’t it, gorgeous? You wanna listen to me instead? I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” he finished with a seductive, raspy whisper, punctuating it with a squeeze to your tits as he reached his destination, cupping and massaging them. 

Your lips parted with a breathy moan, fighting every urge to give in to the temptation he dangled in front of you. 

You met his eyes again, apologetically, regretfully shaking your head. 

You could feel Danny’s proud, wide grin without even glancing at him. “Good girl, sweetheart,” he praised, pushing off the dresser and stalking toward the bed. Once he’d reached your side, plastering himself along your body, he purred, “God I love you.” He bit down on the back of your shoulder, earning a shaky whine from you through your smile. 

You craned your neck, peering at him through your eyelashes, the way that made his knees weak for you. Danny’s face softened further, taking your face in one hand as the other wrapped around your middle. He captured your lips in a needy kiss, insistently taking another kiss the second each one would end. You melted back against his solid chest, the change in your seating position cruelly dragging your slit against Sam’s neglected length. 

A helpless, sweet whine eminating from below you brought both your attentions to Sammy, laid out beautifully unraveled against the sheets. He watched your kiss with longing eyes, and his swollen tip peeking out from between your lips was a dark shade of pink. 

Danny rested his chin over your shoulder, hugging you with both arms from behind as he raised a brow at Sam, smirking lightly. “What?” he teased, deliberately clueless.

Sam furrowed his brow and rolled his eyes, centering his focus on Danny’s face. “Oh, nothing,” he retorted sarcastically.

Danny ignored him, turning his face in to tuck into your neck, his breath tickling your neck. You giggled as he brushed his nose against your shoulder. “Okay then,” he smirked. Kissing and loving on your skin and deliberately making you squirm, knowing full well how each wiggle he coerced out of you was driving Sam crazier.

Sam grit his teeth, hissing as you jerked your hips against him suddenly, his grip on your hips stiffening as he growled, “Fucking stop it already!”

Danny raised a brow and emerged from your neck, gazing arrogantly down at the bratty demand. “What was that?” he muttered lowly, warning Sam with his tone. 

As usual, Sam ignored the warning and proceeded full throttle. “I said stop it! I need- I need more, just-“ He fought against your weight, grinding weakly into you and making you whimper softly. His voice came out breathless and rough when he pleaded, “C’mon, enough fucking around, let me fuck her.”

If anybody had’ve asked, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them how much you would’ve loved the way Sam bypassed you, going directly to your boyfriend for permission to use your body. It was somehow simultaneously degrading and empowering, and with your affinity for both praise and degradation, the confusing combination worked like a charm for you. 

Feeding into both of these kinks, Danny toyed his fingers down your lower abdomen, grazing the tips against your clit and the tip of Sam’s cock as he responded, “Well isn't that just a damn shame, Sammy. You were so close, too.”

Sam furrowed his brow incredulously, “Close? To what? Losing my mind?”

Danny chuckled humorlessly, “To getting what you wanted. You were being so good,” he tsked. “Oh well, you made your bed, now.”

Sam sputtered, and let out a stuttery whine as you ground against Danny’s fingers, and by extension, his aching cock. “Fuuuck, please,” he groaned, “Let me in, let me- oh-“

Danny copied your move, circling his thumb, wet from your soaking pussy, into Sam’s frenulum, smirking evilly when the boy squirmed and jerked beneath you. His anguished bucking hips had you weakly leaning back into Danny’s chest for support, and the two of you falling apart beneath his control had Danny’s cock pounding in his pants. 

Finally Danny removed all contact, stepping back from the bed as you fell forward onto Sam’s chest for support. Both of you looked up at him with matching pleading, lost expressions.

Danny’s lips quirked up in a smile as he shoved his pants down and caught onto your needy faces.  

“Well god, don’t look so pathetic,” he cooed, “Both of you, breaking my heart over here. Just be patient, I’ll make it worth it.” 

He bit his lip as he watched you both closely, pushing his briefs down his thighs, his cock twitching in the air under both your desperate stares. 

Taking himself in hand loosely, he instructed, “Roll over, babes. Sammy on top now.”

Sam flushed at the endearment, and you smiled to yourself. You managed to roll off, onto your back, and wiggle into Sam’s place as Sam fit himself between your thighs on his knees. He stared shamelessly at your spread open lips, biting back a soft groan, and your stomach twisted with excited butterflies, opening your thighs wider teasingly. 

“God,” he sighed, licking his lips as his eyes lidded heavily. Sam began leaning forward, his face nearing your folds, but instead groaned and rested his forehead against your stomach when Danny barked, “Stop.”

“Whyyyy?” Sam whined, muffled against your tummy. “I want her so fucking bad, Danny,” he lifted his head, begging Danny with his eyes. “Why not? Please, baby,” he whimpered softly. 

Danny’s face softened in surprise and affection. “Sammy, babe…” 

Sam closed his eyes, his cheeks flushed pink as he continued, “I want you both, I wanna fuck her, I want you, I want- just, please, Danny, anything, please, I-“

Danny, in two strides, was back with one knee up on the edge of the bed, crashing his lips against Sam’s desperately. Sam moaned, wrapping an arm around Danny’s strong midsection, the other hand resting on your thigh, gripping and kneading at the flesh, seemingly to feel grounded to both of you. 

Danny reluctantly pulled back, pecking Sam’s lips a few times in a drawn out apologetic goodbye. Breathless, he rested his forehead against Sam’s and looked into his eyes as best he could in their proximity. 

“Let’s take care of this, yeah?” He murmured, running his hand down Sam’s front smoothly, past his navel, wrapping his broad hand firmly around Sam’s achingly hard, slick-dampened cock. 

Sammy nodded, shallow and desperately, rocking himself through Danny’s grip with a sigh of relief that melted his entire body against Danny’s, much like yours had just done. Danny wrapped his free arm around Sam’s waist, supporting him, and used his leverage point there to grind his own erection into the plush of Sam’s ass.

Danny inhaled Sam’s sweet musky scent, burying his nose in the boy’s hair as he groaned under his breath at the relieving contact to his neglected cock. With one more roll of his hips, he straightened out, steadying Sam overtop of you before crawling onto the bed behind him. 

Sam craned his head curiously, but Danny placed a soothing hand to his shoulderblades, thumbing reassuringly as he got himself settled comfortably. He positioned himself behind Sam, a sort of vertical big-spoon around the lithe bassist. 

You bit your lip in anticipation as the addition of another body atop the bed pushed your thighs open wider to accommodate Danny. Sam’s lips parted in awe as he caught glimpse of the light catching the delicate strings of your wetness decorating your parted lips. His eyes shot closed with a whimper though, as Danny gave a smooth rock of his hips against his ass.

Danny, now firmly plastered skin-to-skin against Sam’s back, reached around Sammy’s front and took his cock in hand. He leaned them both forward, forcing Sam onto his hands and knees above you. Sam gasped, Danny’s cock grinding between his ass cheeks as he loosely jerked Sam off. 

You reached down, and Sam fluttered his eyes open at the movement, catching your gaze and locking eyes, electric and intense as you swirled your fingers around your clit. Your jaw fell open a bit, and the relief had your eyes rolling back slightly with a sigh. The sight of it had Sam exhaling through his nose harshly as though the wind had been punched out of him. 

Danny lowly rumbled in his ear, “Push forward a bit, sweet boy.”

Sam shivered, obeying and letting his hips droop forward until the tip of him caught against your entrance. Danny kept his eyes locked on the contact of his cock against your pussy from over Sam’s shoulder, angling his jaw to the side to kiss and nip the bottom of Sammy’s jaw. “Good,” he breathed, “You just let me do all the work.” 

Sam whined and nodded, blinking sluggishly. 

Danny gave his cock a few pumps, twisting loosely at the tip after each pass, the head of him torturously pressing at your entrance. At Sam’s shudder of pleasure, he grinned lightly, slapping Sam’s cock against your clit with a few filthy smacks. 

You gasped, whimpering and arching into it, “Danny- Sam-�� Their names rolling off your tongue instinctively was like sexual whiplash, and you panted, lost for words.

Sam weakly chuckled, lifting his head to peer at you through his lashes. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Danny nipped at the shell of Sam’s ear playfully, using his thumb as leverage to hold Sam’s length close and snug to your folds. He then rocked into Sam’s ass, forcing Sam’s cock through the tight squeeze and causing a feral moan to slip unrestricted past the boy’s lips. You gasped, tossing your head back as the sudden, focused contact to your clit sparked intensely through your body. You cupped and groped at your tits absent-mindedly as Danny continued to second-hand thrust Sam into you. 

Both boys locked eyes on you hungrily, but you were oblivious, eyes closed and brows tipped up in pleasure from the steady rubbing of the ridge of Sam's head against your clit. Moaning weakly, you pinched your own nipple, head lolling to the side. “Yes,” you whined, “Fuck yes, oh my god…”

Danny growled near Sam’s ear, abandoning your combined groins. He brought his hand at Sam’s hip up to wrap around the front of Sam’s throat, a sight that stole your breath as you fluttered your eyes open. Sam hoarsely keened as Danny opened his mouth and licked a hot, filthy line from the base of Sam’s neck to his jaw, sealing the move with hot open-mouthed kisses to Sam’s jaw and cheek, finally meeting Sam’s lips hungrily in a sloppy, feral kiss. 

Squeezing his throat cautiously, Sam encouraged him with a cut-off groan, sucking on his tongue. Danny moaned, his grip tightening at both sides of his neck, parting from Sam’s lips to mumble, “Want me to fuck your ass?” 

Sam’s knees buckled, Danny’s hand shooting from his neck to wrap around his middle again in support, a breathy humorless chuckle at the wanton reaction. 

Sam gulped, his eyes wide and dark as he opened them, fixing them on Danny’s face. “Fuck me,” he rasped, “Fuck me right into her pussy, Daddy.”

Danny’s nostrils flared, his jaw falling open, and he breathed so quiet against Sam’s lips, “Oh god-“

With your front row seat to their little show, you felt lightheaded with desire. Equally desperate as Sam to get Danny’s cock in his ass, you took it upon yourself to reach over to the nightstand, fumbling and grasping the bottle of lube and presenting it to Danny like a present. 

Danny took it with shaky hands, shooting you a fucked-out smile of thanks. You smiled back, biting your lip as Danny kissed Sam’s shoulder, then guided him forward overtop of you on his hands. 

Sam met your eyes as Danny flipped open the cap behind him, giving you a lazy, dirty grin. You smirked, taking one of his hands and using it to grope your breast. Sam’s fingers molded around the curve of it, licking his lips hungrily as Danny began slicking up his own cock. The slick wet noises got your heart racing with arousal, and Sam clearly felt it too, as he dove forward and captured your nipple between his pouted, kiss swollen lips. You gasped, burying your fingers in his silky hair as he sucked at you. 

You felt his groan acutely, vibrating sparks of pleasure to your core, as Danny’s lubed up fingers slipped between Sam’s cheeks. He pressed one finger inside Sam’s hole, not wasting any time and slipping in all the way in one smooth motion, and Sam abandoned your boobs as his mouth fell open with a loud, wanton moan, the side of his face smacking bonelessly against your sternum. 

Danny grunted lowly, eyes flickering between his finger encased in Sam’s tight heat and your disheveled faces, hair clinging to both your foreheads with sweat. 

He pumped his finger slowly in and out, then curled it towards the root of Sam’s cock, and the bassist whined, high-pitched and drawn out against your breast, “Fuuuuuuuuuck, Danny!” 

You stroked and pet Sam’s head as Danny slipped a second finger in alongside the first, fingering him a little faster and targeting that sweet little spot inside Sam’s body. High in his throat, Sam let out a choked cry, biting down gently into the flesh of your breast, making you hiss. 

Muffled around his mouthful of your boob, Sam weakly pleaded, “Please, baby, fuck me!”

Danny groaned at his begging, his eyes shooting closed as he bit his lip hard, rutting against Sam’s ass cheek. 

“You ready for me, pretty boy?” he rumbled. 

Sam sobbed out a quiet moan, nodding into your chest as he squeezed your tits in his hands, effectively smothering his blushing face in your cleavage. “Mhmm,” he mumbled. “Do it.”

Danny grasped himself, slapping his own slick cock against Sam’s wet, lubed up entrance a few times, before lining up and pressing his head past the tight ring of Sam’s hole. 

They both groaned in sync, Danny’s relieved, deep groan pairing harmoniously with Sam’s whimpered, pathetic, pleading one. The sounds they made, the visual of Danny’s pleasure-wracked face, the sweaty, submissive boy clinging to you like a shaking leaf, all of it reduced you to a feral, desperate mess of arousal. Pinned as you were beneath them both, you felt it as Danny rocked tentatively into Sam, pulling out and pushing in a little further with each thrust. Sam’s soft cries climbed up in register each time, until his voice sounded feminine and so deliciously submissive, you weren’t sure how Danny hadn’t already lost it and coated his walls already. You felt near the precipice of an orgasm as it was, and you’d hardly even been touched yet. 

Danny slowed his thrusts, his jaw clenching with restraint as he gripped Sam’s hips. He licked his lips and bent forward, his arm snaking around Sam’s waist again, and taking his leaking erection in hand. 

“Baby?” your boyfriend softly called, and you reached down readily, brushing his hand affectionately and helping him guide Sam’s cock to your entrance.

"Okay," you confirmed shakily. You were losing your mind, you felt so ready to be filled. 

Danny braced himself, and Sam flexed forward flexibly, allowing Danny to push forward into Sam, which in turn, pushed Sam fully into you, all in one slick smooth motion. 

“Sammy, fuck-“ your jaw fell open loosely, panting and bucking into him as Danny retreated them both and fucked back into you exploratively. 

Sam’s lips parted with a steady, unintelligible stream of filth, moaning and keening as Danny used him like his own personal toy, pushing and withdrawing from your soaking core in an uncoordinated, but incredibly erotic and nonetheless enjoyable dance. 

Slowly, with a bit of fumbling, the three of you found a rhythm that worked, similar to the first night, but instead of Sammy holding himself still and getting fucked from both sides, you and Danny limited your movements to a light rolling motion, and Sam rocked himself back and forth, both fucking himself into you, and back around Danny’s pulsing cock. 

“God Sammy- uh- fuck, so tight, babe,” Danny praised, his voice rough and strained through his pants. 

Sam whined, his shaking muscles driving his hips forward and back on pure, animal instinct. “Please, please please pleasepleaseplease…”

Danny’s grip on his hips tightened in response, and you and Sam both benefited when he used his leverage to guide Sam’s pelvis faster and harder, jerking his body back and forth between you and Danny like a game of sexual tug of war. 

Your mouth hung open loosely, losing your composure quickly as the combined physical pleasure, the angelic view of both god-like men above you, and the filth of the whole situation in general spurred you on. 

"I've never felt so fucking good in my life," Sam pathetically whined, "This was-" he gasped, "w-was all I could thing about, since the first time."

Danny moaned, his head tipping back as he drove himself deeper into Sam.

Sam was forced forward onto his elbows, and as he balanced himself, he looked up, making glazed-over eye contact with you. “Baby, I need you to cum, please fucking cum for me,” he choked out, begging you with his eyes, “His cock, it's so fuckin' good- ahh! I’m so fucking-“ he cried out a short jerky wail, “s-so fucking c-close, please.”

You wiggled your arm between your bodies, relieving the ache his words brought on with your fingers, cirling and rubbing frantically over your clit and nodding desperately, staring Sam in the eyes as your orgasm built. “Gonna-“ you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as Danny’s hips jerked hard against you both, “…gonna cum, you’re so good, such a good boy for us, Sammy, so good, just keep- don’t stop, Sammy, fuck-“ 

Danny reared back, slamming into Sam harder, earning a loud, unabashed cry of his name from Sam’s chest, and Danny growled animalistically, smacking Sam’s ass hard, twice, in quick succession. The sting of the slaps, and the subsequent tight squeeze to the abused flesh in Danny’s wide, veiny hand, sent you careening over the edge. 

Your desperate, high-pitched cries of ecstasy drew groans from both boy’s chests, and your trembling, clenching walls squeezing so tight around Sam’s cock as it was sent pumping unforgivingly into you, sent Sam over the edge right after you, his wet release pooling hot, forbidden and dirty inside you, his own cries washing over you as you rode out the waves of your orgasm.

Danny, despite his dwindling resolve to hold off, lost himself in Sam’s clenching, pulsing heat, and in the hazy chorus of his two lover’s combined sounds of pleasure, he gave into the pleasure and spilled, hard and hot into Sam’s tight wet walls with a groan that shook his chest. 

He barely held himself up long enough to slip carefully out of Sam, then collapsed at your side, completely spent. Sammy pulled out next, whimpering at the overstimulating drag against his sensitive, slowly softening cock, and rolled just slightly to the side, laying himself mostly still on top of you. 

Danny rolled himself weakly onto his side, not bothering to open his eyes as he panted, curling into your side and wrapping his arm over your tummy, holding you close to him. Sam’s knee hitched up over your hips, his calf resting between your thighs as he, too, caught his breath in the cavern of your neck. 

Your eyes drooped closed, your entire body feeling floaty and relaxed, the tension of the day, quite literally, fucked out of you. 

Sammy’s arm, draped over your ribcage, blindly groped for Danny’s forearm, curling his long fingers around it, and Danny hummed his appreciation quietly, his arm extending a little further against your stomach to squeeze his hand around Sam’s thigh. 

As you laid there, endorphins making your entire body feel light, buzzed, happy and safe, you smiled to yourself, simply existing in the moment, in this space between your favorite boys in the world. 

Sam lazily kissed your shoulder, nuzzling further into your skin as he sighed contentedly. Danny’s chin tucked against his chest, his mouth pressed into your hair while his soft, evened out breaths fanned it out gently. 

Danny broke the silence first, humming softly, the sound shifting to a soft groan as he stretched his legs down the bed, settling back into place. “That was… incredible.”

You smiled wide, eyes still closed as you hummed your agreement, turning just enough to nuzzle into his sweaty curls that clung to his forehead, pressing a loving kiss there.

Sam remained silent, which, even if you only knew Sam for ten minutes, you’d be acutely aware of how unusual that was. You looked down at him, unable to see his face from where it was buried in your shoulder, so you shifted up on your side, settling down little-spoon style against Danny’s chest as you scooted down to level with his face. 

You soothed a hand down his side, admiring the softness of his flawless skin and smiling fondly at his pretty, boyish face, which blinked up at you almost shyly. 

“No sassy remark?” you teased quietly, your eyes crinkling fondly as you reached up to cup his cheek. 

Sam grinned lopsidedly, lowering his gaze to the sheets beneath you, his fingers fiddling with a wrinkle in them. “Nah… I’m sure one’ll come to me, though.” 

You giggled under your breath, nodding lightly. “Good, good.”

His eyes lifted to yours, big and brown and sweet, more innocent than you’d ever seen him. He stole your breath for a moment, so stunningly perfect that you couldn’t quite fathom your own luck, to bask in his beauty. 

He smiled faintly under your enveloping, warm gaze, that crooked smile widening. “Hi,” he breathed, a soft chuckle following. 

“Hi,” you returned, quiet and affectionate.

Behind you, Danny leaned up on his shoulder, resting the side of his face against your cheek, both of you admiring him. 

Sam’s cheeks pinkened as he grinned shyly, “What?”

In an uncharecteristically shy move, Danny tucked his chin into your cheek, keeping his eyes on Sam as he kissed and mumbled against your cheek, “You’re so pretty, Sammy.”

The heat from Danny’s flushed cheeks mirrored Sam’s own blush, and Sam giggled quietly, wrinkling his nose as he lazily dismissed him with a swat of his hand. “Says the literal Greek God."

Danny giggled adorably, blushing harder and making your heart clench with love.

You wedged your hand under Sam’s other cheek, pulling his head toward yours and smiling as you kissed his lips softly. Sam melted into your gentle kiss, your hands on his face, accepting and returning the gentle affection. 

The moment you released him from the kiss, Danny leaned over you and tilted his chin up. He smiled, devastatingly sweet and handsome in your side-view of him, and he flickered his eyes from Sam’s curious gaze and his mouth, leaning forward and taking his turn at Sam’s lips. Sam kissed him back readily, his eyes fluttering closed. 

You continued to pet his cheek lovingly as they basked in the slow push and pull of each other’s lips, and as soon as they separated, you completed the triangle by capturing your boyfriends mouth, smiling happily against his lips. 

Danny pulled away after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open. He bit his lip, boyishly smiling between you and Sam, and you giggled softly, the laughter catching on as Sam chuckled, and soon the three of you were laying together in a heap of seratonin-high giggles. 

Calming down, you sighed happily.

Then Danny’s stomach growled. Loudly. 

Any semblance of peace was thrown out the window, all three of you dissolving into laughter again as Danny blushed and rolled onto his back. 

“Shut up,” he groaned, chuckling, “I haven’t eaten since nine this morning!”

Sam leaned up on his elbow, giggling at him, “Who’s fault is that, mr. come-in-for-a-drink?” 

You snorted and Danny’s jaw dropped playfully at him, “I was literally about to make lunch when you kissed me!”

You pursed your lips in a silent, ‘oooo!’, turning your gaze back to Sam in amusement. 

“Hey, nuh-uh, you kissed me first, Wagner,” he poked Danny’s shoulder with a sassy raised eyebrow.

You giggled, and Danny looked at you with wide disbelieving eyes, whispering, “He’s full of shit.” Turning to Sam, he repeated louder, “You’re full of shit!”

Sam snickered, shrugging and rolling on his back, lacing his fingers on his chest. “Whatever you say, kissy-pants.”

You snorted, “Kissy pants?” you rolled your head to face Sam incredulously. 

He grinned at you innocently, shrugging. 

Danny rolled his eyes and sat up, moving to climb off the bed. “You’re such a dork,” he said, affectionately exasperated as he grabbed a fresh pair of boxers from the dresser. Sam smirked shyly as he eyed Danny’s naked back, and subsequently blushed when you tapped the tip of his nose and winked, letting him know you caught him checking out his ass, then climbed off the bed and walked to the closet.

Sam smiled wide, despite the redness colouring his cheeks, and he kept his heart-eyes on your back as he answered Danny softly, “Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

Your face softened inside the cover of the closet, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt as you pulled a sundress off the hanger.

Danny’s hands paused within the drawer, a goofy smile making its way over his face as he distractedly pawed through shirts. “…Oh yeah?”

Sam hauled his boxers back on, biting his lip as he came up behind Danny, touching a shy hand to his side. Danny turned around, and you watched, smoothing your dress over your head from the doorway of the closet, as Danny pulled Sam’s hips flush to his. Sam grew endearingly flustered, his hands resting tentatively on Danny’s bare chest, as Danny brushed his nose against Sam’s. 

“Yeah,” Sammy murmured, looking up into Danny’s eyes, losing his breath. 

Danny playfully nipped at Sam’s lip before pecking a gentle kiss to his lips. 

He shyly kept his eyes trained on Sam’s mouth as he quietly returned, “Well I’m yours too.”

Sam chewed on his lip, and he turned his head searchingly in your direction, his face relaxing and softening fondly when he saw you, making your heart flush with affection and the reassurance you felt at his clinginess.

He held an arm out to you, and Danny smiled wider, nodding you over. You stepped into their arms, leaning your head on Sam’s shoulder. Out of your sight, Sam blinked down at the crown of your head in surprise, warmth spreading through his chest at how you’d subconsciously come to him just as readily as you came to Danny. 

Danny let his forehead lean against Sam’s again, and you straightened, kissing Sam’s cheek sweetly. Sam’s heart fluttered, overwhelmed with the double-teamed touches, and as he looked at you, still leaning the side of his forehead against Danny’s, he said quietly through the close space, “…I’m yours, too.” 

You brought your hands up to lace over his shoulder, lifting on your toes to kiss his cheek again, trailing your lips to his jaw and smiling shyly against his skin. “I’m yours too, baby,” you whispered. “I’m yours, just like I’m Danny’s.”

Danny nodded lightly, and Sam sucked on his bottom lip, eyes flickering between you both when he lifted his head straight. 

“So… uh,” he swallowed, blushing, then cracking into a bashful smile. 

You smiled wide at his shyness, tilting your head encouragingly. 

“What is it?” Danny reassuringly asked with a hand on his shoulder, thumbing at both his shoulder and at your hip subconsciously, a rush of warmth swirling in your chest. 

Sam rocked from the ball of his foot to his heels, playing off his shyness as his usual goofy playfulness. “Well, if I’m yours, and you’re mine, and I’m yours,” he nodded at you, grinning wider, “and you’re mine…” 

You giggled, raising your brows impatiently, “Yeah?”

Sam smirked at the floor, “Well, I was just thinking that, you know, that sounds a lot like I’m your guys’ boyfriend, doesn’t it?”

You felt your heart turning to a mushy puddle as the adorable question registered. “Oh,” you giggled breathlessly, certain your face was the picture of sappy joy.

Danny cooed quietly, nudging his hip sweetly against Sam’s. “It does, huh,” he nodded, matter-of-factly before cracking a wide grin. 

Sam shrugged one shoulder, his tongue poking in his cheek as he grinned to himself, nodding at the floor bashfully. When he lifted his gaze, he met your eyes, and your smile stretched even wider, grabbing his face and pulling him into a sweet, enthusiastic kiss. Sam cooed in surprise, immediately falling into the kiss and sighing against your lips. His hand came up to cup your cheek, holding you in place. 

Then Danny’s nose brushed against both your cheeks, squishing his way in and making you both separate and burst into giggles, Danny cracking up too. 

You giggled, “Wait, lets try, come back.”

Your boys’ smiling faces drew nearer again, and you wrapped your hands around the backs of their heads, pulling them into a short, strange, but cute little three-way kiss, pulling back from it with blushing cheeks and wide, bashful smiles. 

“Huh,” Danny nodded, shrugging. Sam’s eyes closed fondly as he dropped his head forward against Danny’s chest, his hand still smoothing back from your cheek into your hair, lacing into it and scratching affectionately. 

You leaned your head into Danny’s shoulder, feeling a surge of love when his strong arms wrapped around both you and Sam, holding you both into a tight hug. 

Softly, you mumbled into Danny’s upper arm, “Let’s go get some food.”

They hummed their agreement, two low, rumbly tones that felt very right together. 

Sam lifted his head then, grinning at the two of you and wiggling his eyebrows. “Our first date!"

-------- ⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎ --------

>>>Chapter 6 >>>

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[quigonswife8]

A helping hand: Namor x reader

Wakanda forever spoilers

gif creds: @wiha-jun

After Namor's left ankle wing is cut off, you bandage it up.

Warnings: Talk of Namor being hurt, and fixing up an injury. That's about it.

Haven't seen anyone write anything like this. It came to mind the other day and I just thought it would be perfect to write. So happy it was confirmed that his wing will heal back, cause I kept wondering if they would.

Editors note: I realise it was just one of his ankle wings, not both, and Im not sure if it was his right or left so I went with his left :)

------

It was a bad idea. Waging war on Wakanda. Now as you wait patiently for your partner to return, you worry for his safety.

"Please don't go, K’uk’ulkan.”

He's half-way out the door, but he doesn't leave. Not yet.

"I need to..."

"You could get hurt."

Namor, not even realising that you're near crying, turns to look at you.

"I need to do this, for our people..."

He's not going to listen to you, is he?

"...and what about us? I..." the tears fall but you ignore them, too focused on him. "I can't lose anyone else."

Now you can't stare at him, but K’uk’ulkan’s sudden touch brings your attention back to him. One hand placed on the side of your face and his eyes...they just held determination, and now they hold care.

"...I promise you, I'll come back to you..."

He presses his head to yours, bringing your eyes to flutter close a moment.

"...I give you my word."

---

The door to the room creaks open, and K’uk’ulkan stumbles in. He's sporting three long scratches on the left side of his face, but it's the fact that the wings on his left ankle has been sliced off.

"K’uk’ulkan..."

You run over to him, pulling him into a soft hug. He immediately settles into it, happy to finally be back in your arms.

"...I'm here, my love..."

After the hug, he takes your hands in his.

"...what of Wakanda?"

"We came to an agreement."

So shuri did have a change of heart.

"...we will be working together from now on..."

Letting out a long breath that you had been holding you nod.

"That's all and well, but what about you?"

"Me?"

He follows your eyes: how they land on the scratches, then his sliced wing. Then realization hits and he remembers why he'd been limping in the first place.

"I'll be fine. I just need time to heal..."

It's a good thing that he can heal. If just wouldn’t be the same without one of his ankle wings permanently sliced off.

"...at least let me bandage your ankle up, please.”

He’d say no, but the way you care so much brings him to say ‘okay my love.’ As well as the fact he realises it would be better to have it bandaged up.

You start pulling him to the seat. He slowly sits down and you leave to grab a bandage, returning soon to take your place next to him.

"Lean your leg here.”

Once he does what you tell him to you begin to slowly wrap his left ankle, earning quiet hisses from K’uk’ulkan but he doesn't tell you to stop.

"...how did this happen..?"

Crossing the bandage over, unraveling more of it.

"The pr...the black panther. During the fight she cut it off..."

Jeez

"...it was a pretty good strategy.."

Rip the wing off, ground him. It had kept him on the ground for the fight, giving shuri more of an advantage.

"Maybe, but that still doesn't make things any better."

Crossing the bandage over, again.

"...I'm not happy about it love. I don't like seeing you hurt."

The last time, you remember, he had passed out in your arms after sustaining a near fatal injury, and you'd nearly lost him.

You remember sobbing, praying to the ancestors to keep him alive. They had answered you, thankfully, but it still scared you.

"...I could have..." pushing away the thought because that's all it is, a thought. Instead you focus back on the task at hand.

"I'm alright, I promise you. I wouldn't leave you."

"I know that, I do, I just worry you know."

"And that's one of the many reasons I love you."

As he says that you finish wrapping his ankle. He moves his foot a little, feeling the tightness of the bandage, but also feeling how secure it is. This is perfect until his wing has fully healed back.

K’uk’ulkan, beyond thankful, leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your lips, wrapping an arm around your waist while you lean into the kiss. When you part for air, you bring a hand up to rest on the side of his face.

"Thank you."

You should be the one thanking him for coming back to you. He came back like he promised not in a perfect way but he still returned to you.

"...you're welcome my love."

Leaning forward, touching his head with yours a moment. Then you pull away again, letting him see that smile he loves so much. Seeing it again after a day of being apart is a welcome sight...it always is.

Taking your right in his, once more, you move closer to him. Closing the gap between you, and you lean your head against his shoulder.

"Did I tell you how much I've missed you...?"

'Not as much as I missed you' he thinks, but settles on.

"I'm not sure, but I would love to hear that.”

Unable to hold your laugh you just shake your head, nuzzling your head more into his shoulder.

"Okay my king."

You're not sure how long the conversation goes for after that, but neither of you care. You're in eachother's arms, that’s all you need.

[takeariskao3]

What are your go to Hinny fic recs? Got back into reading this pairing after a while and I am buzzing to read more!

i'm just going to put this out there: i feel like a really bad member of the community because i haven't been reading very much (or at all) lately. so i would like to open this ask up to reblogs/replies for people to share their all time favs too! my all time favs are below. i have read all of these at least four times. and would die for them. and also i want to inject them into my veins. and also i've been reccing them for years so sorry to these writers for getting tagged in yet another hannah fic rec ask.

the next day by @clarensjoy little sugar men by dopeythedwarf a circus ain't a love story by @barnabasthebarmy twenty-two days by @brightlybound such a beautiful blank (but smooth it) by pocketfullof ginny weasley by @ala-baguette why wasn’t he answering by @thegirlwhowrites642 warm front by flagpoles (@jiilys) we’d still worship this love by @harryissuchalittleshit build it better (the second time around) by @narukoibito unravel me by @narukoibito savior complex by @hiinnys heir to nothing but herself and scattering blooms on her watery grave by dirgewithoutmusic the changeling and the armistice series by @annerbhp