#because he's going to sleep for once goddamnit

[weshney]

I have no idea why but I woke up with the idea that Danny could pretend to be Christmas lights.

Like, if he wanted a nap and everyone was harassing him he could just make his body super thin and stretch around the branches of a tree like tinsel. Then, using either his ectoplasm or a minor version of the light manipulation he transforms with, just make his body twinkle at random.

I feel like we need more of Danny impersonating random objects in this Phandom.

[naybii]

“I’ll show you how a real man treats a woman” - Park Sunghoon .

 

cw: Mentions of cheating, College! AU, roomie!sunghoon, revenge sex, protected (pls wrap it up.), consensual. (Non consensual activities isn’t Valid.), phone call fucking, recording. (Practically recording since your being shown on call), Exhibitionism,cunnilingus, polite! Sunghoon - (polite men are so AGHH) , aftercare massage, comfort words, pet names (good girl, gorgeous, etc.)

A/n: I’m writing this san fic but Idk if I’ll ever release it. Because holy shit writers block is a bitch. I actually finished the story. But I used some words or lines from my san fic holy shiett. Also I’m new to writing Smut So idek if this is good.

“Are you fucking serious, Aaron, you’re fucking my bestfriend?” You said. Agitated. Who could blame you? “It was an impulse, y/n. You would’ve done the same if you were me.” He tried to defend himself but you didn’t want to hear it. You Walked into Your boyfriend, getting it on with your bestfriend. “I can’t believe you either Mara.” You Snapped. You not only Felt angry, but you felt betrayed. “Wait, y/n please. Let me explain” Mara begged you to at least hear her out but you didnt, you grabbed your phone from the Countertop and immediately left.

-‘sunghoon im going back to the dorms.’ You immediately texted him.

-‘hm? Something bad happened between you guys?’ He Replied with a tone of Curiosity, he was Nosey. But that’s Not the point right now.

-‘worse, he cheated on me with Mara.’ You revealed. Meanwhile Sunghoon wasn’t really surprised but didn’t want to be that person who says ‘I told you so’ because he doesn’t want to make you Mad either.

-‘well, im sorry. I’ll be waiting for you at the dorms.’ He felt Obviously bad for you, his Apology was genuine. Of course Aaron was a dick. Before you guys even started dating. He slept around a lot. To the point where like the whole female population on campus probably knows how he is in bed. He was obnoxious. And he had known something was Wrong with him.

You made it back to your Dorm, Punching in your Pin and The door Made a little click! You walked into the dorm, your footsteps Heavy as You plopped onto the couch. This was to much to take In, sunghoon was In his bedroom but Had heard to come into the dorm, getting up from his bedroom and greeting you.

“I’m sorry y/n.” He said. He hadn’t done anything but he had still appeared to be apologetic. “So, you just walked into their ‘sesssion’? That’s. Great.” He said with obvious sarcasm. You knew that sunghoon hadn’t liked him, one bit. Not because he was dating you. actually maybe that but he had heard by some women around campus always twirling their hair and Giggling just talking about Aaron.

“I’m sorry to say this but, he’s a man-whore y/n.” He admitted his Feelings about Aaron. “Why should you be sorry? It’s true. He Wows every girl he comes across and brings them all home.” Sunghoon then Furrowed his eyebrows. “And you stayed? That’s a lot of dedication, have you to even slept together?” He was so surprised, why would you stay with him, even after cheating and Toxicity from him? “No, we haven’t even kissed.” You were a little ashamed, what was even the point of staying with him, when you guys haven’t even kissed once??

“Goddamnit, y/n you’re hopeless, he doesn’t know How to take care of his own girlfriend? Meanwhile he’s sleeping around with other women? No y/n. It’s not that he Doesn’t Like you. It’s because he Doesn’t Fuck with you. Are you that dense?” Sunghoon Already Lecturing you about relationships and How dumb you were being When in your Relationship with Aaron wasn’t comforting either. “You’re not helping Sunghoon. Are you jealous?” You asked him. I mean maybe sometimes he seemed jealous but you just assumed that.

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of? he’s just a man-child. Who can’t control himself infront of woman, looking at one and immediately popping a boner. That’s Not a man Y/n. That’s a boy. And let me tell me, I know how to Take care of a woman. Like a real man.” You were immediately silenced. “What? Did i Silence you because you’re scared? Or because you know I’m right?” Oh my god the way he was speaking to you was Lowkey Hot. Wait. Y/n that’s your roommate. You just got out of a relationship with your cheating boyfriend. You can’t just homie hop out of nowhere.

“I’m not scared of you, you’re not right either!” You weren’t lying. You were in denial. All your Time with Aaron you thought he wanted you so bad but it was the opposite. You knew sunghoon is a 100% right. But your ego was hurt from the Fact that your ‘boyfriend’ didn’t Even vibe with you. “Oh, so I’m not right? You’d rather be living all your life; lying to yourself, that your boyfriend who doesn’t even love you. Loves you?” He said In disbelief. This girl.. “you’re absolutely pathetic, y/n. It’s sad, sadder than the notebook.” He said infront of your face. You remember he said he Knew How to Treat a woman and how he was such a ‘man’

“You’re not a man at all sunghoon, you’re not a saint at all!!..you’re just some Boy.” You don’t even know what you were saying. But that pissed sunghoon off. “ ‘Some boy’? I’m just ‘some boy’? Y/n. You’re actually Ridiculous.. if you’re just gonna let yourself get cheated on, you’re just gonna keep complaining about it. And nagging me. You’re gonna keep getting hurt y/n, it’s not healthy. I’m not saying these things To be mean.

If you don’t. Get hurt by your boyfriend Cheating. Then you shouldn’t be hurt by Some criticism.” He knew He was right, you were just insecure and needs At least one thing you said, right. “Oh, I see what you’re doing. You’re hurting and placing the blame on me because you still stayed that whole time when he was cheating on you.” He Chuckled. My god you Were miserable.

“That’s a low thing you could do, y/n placing the Blame on your roomie? That’s not nice is it?” He shifted closer to you On the couch. still Mad but He had a sly Look on his face. “How about I show you, how a real man treats a woman like you?” You were enticed. Man. Sex with sunghoon? Yes please. You immediately nodded, but had thought for a Moment.

“Sunghoon?” You Asked him, not knowing if he’d even hear your Proposal out. “Yes, y/n?” He Asked back. “Can you call my ex while we fuck?” You said that so boldly, Sunghoon was caught off guard by the proposal, but had nodded. “Sure. So this is revenge sex, right?” He asked you. Making sure That he wasn’t getting any wrong idea.

“Yes, revenge sex. Even if he calls while we’re fucking. Answer. And turn the fucking camera on. Alright?” Sunghoon had pink Spots on his face and nodded. Showing yourself to your ex on phone call, fucking your roommate was not what He was expecting to hear from you. But he nodded. “Yeah, alright.” He looked over at you and Had Glanced into your eyes. “May i?” He asked softly he wasn’t afraid to kiss you or anything but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. “Yes, please sunghoon.”

You Nodded desperately. He smiled softly and moved your hair behind your delicate face. Kissing you softly. He grabbed you by the hips, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, one Hand on your waist, the other on your Ass. He walked over to his bedroom, with you in his Arms,he swiftly opened the door with his hand, carrying you with only his hand on your ass. He kicked the door softly. The door clicking close. He Gently laid you onto his bed. Taking in all of you. And Smiled. “You’re genuinely so pretty, y/n.

“Im really not, Sunghoon.” You Rejected his compliment and Remained humble, a little too humble. “Y/n, kindly shut up and take the compliment from me. I mean it, you’re too harsh on yourself.” He replied to your Comment about yourself he took his jacket off, a subtle little smile on his face. God bless his future wife on the first night. He zipped his jacket off, taking it off and tossing it onto his chair. He Rolled his sleeves up and he walked over to you. “May I take this skirt off?” Was that even a question? Yes,yes,yes. “Yes,yes,yes, please take it off.” You were getting desperate. But come on. It was Park Sunghoon.

“Alright. lift those hips up for me.” He mumbled against his breath. You complied, raising your hips up. “Good girl, let’s take those off.” He murmured and Slid your Skort (skirts and shorts) down to your ankles , letting Them fall down. They fell down your ankles, onto the floor. He glanced over at your pretty underwear. They were a white lacey underwear with strawberries on it, of course with that signature pink bow at the waistband. There was already a damp spot at the front. Which sunghoon immediately noticed. “You’re wet already?” He Asked you with Amusement in his voice, you could hear that smile in his voice.

“N-no. That’s Just. Uhmm. Yeah I am.” You said, ashamed and a little bit embarrassed about that. He Chuckled at your Response and embarrassment and He he ran his hand up and down your fabric-covered folds.making you shiver. “You like that?” He Asked you, making sure you were comfortable. He grabbed a few pillows. And placed one under your back and another under your head so you were at least a little more comfortable. “Let me slide these to the side.”

He muttered and Slid the fabric of your underwear to the side. Seeing your glistening and Needy cunt. “What a pretty pussy, my lady.” He admired every Part of your body. Even after insulting you. “I’m just gonna have to rip this off of you I swear.” He joked. But he Wasn’t shy at all. He Then Looked into your eyes. “May I?” He was too polite. But you could tell he was Raised that way Which led to that proper attitude.

“Fuck yes, you may.” He knelt down, knees on the floor and his face between your thighs. His breath fanning against your pussy.He then got an experimental lick of your cunt. Humming from the sweetness. “Holy shit, you taste amazing.” He said, “I need another taste, I haven’t ate so, count this as my dinner.” He immediately started to Devour you. His tongue swiping Up and down between your folds.

The explicit sounds of Him, slurping on your Sweet juices. Feasting on you. Both hands On your thighs, the tip of his nose Swiping up and down on your clit. Which stimulated You even more. “Fuck sunghoon.” You Moaned softly, tilting your head back and pursing your lips. “Don’t hold back gorgeous, let me hear how I’m making you feel.” He whispered against your Folds. Then Suckling on your folds. Pulling his head back with your folds in his mouth then letting go, moving his head Side to side, your clit Being Stimulated once more With his Nose and it felt so damn good.

“Fuck sunghoon.” You moaned out loud. Sunghoon Was Making you feel good. He was doing you good. “You like that, my Gorgeous woman?” You guys weren’t even dating and he’s already calling you such things? Oh that made you feel so wanted. He started to suck on your Clit, this tongue Swirling on the most Sensitive part of your clit. Who am I kidding? Every part of it was sensitive. You Sat up to take your Shirt, sliding it off and Tossing it onto his floor, you were wearing your Matching brassiere along with the underwear but the. Unclasped it. Your breasts jiggling from coming out of its confines.

You looked at sunghoon, between your thighs. Hands Running up and down your legs and Treating you like a real woman. He Glance up at you and he looked so fucking good from this angle. All in your folds and Cunt. you felt yourself getting close from the ticklish feeling in it. And You raised your hips a little on Impulse. “Oh fuck, Sunghoon. I’m close.” You announced to him, he nodded and Went back to eating your pussy out, he took on hand off your thigh and using his thumb to rub your clit. You Moaned From the double Stimulation and You Bit your lip. Then Feeling you Starting your orgasm you cried out loud and Moaned. Arching your back and Trying to push out the feeling.

You underestimated the push and Ended up Squirting all over sunghoons face. He was drenched in your Bodily Fluids, and Even his bed was covered with it. You Looked so embarrassed, covering your face. Though sunghoons reaction was priceless. “Holy shit, you squirted everywhere, y/n. But hey. Don’t cover that beautiful face of yours.. it’s natural.” He Comforted you. He then Got up from his knees, and Walked to his drawer and grabbing a Condom.

You noticed it was a large Sized condom and you were laying there. Thighs drenched and Still sensitive. “I’ll give you time for you to Desensitize. I know How It is for girls. Let me grab some Things Alright?” You nodded and Just laid on the Comfy and nice mattress. Sunghoon went to the Kitchen, going towards the cabinet and grabbing the coconut oil. He Walked back to the room. Closing the cabinet door. And setting the Coconut oil on the nightstand.

He placed the condom in his mouth. Trying to Get his pants off. Fiddling with his pants zipper and button. Before Successfully pulling them Off, along with his Boxer-briefs. He was like 7-8 inches, he Proceeded to Rip the condom wrapper off and grabbed it from the Packaging. rolling it onto his stiff cock. He Took his Shirt off. And finally took your underwear off throwing them onto his bedroom floor for like the 9th time. He then Crawled onto the bed and sat onto the bed, back against the headboard.

“Come ride me, y/n.” He Whispered loud enough for you to hear the seductive tone in his voice. You crawled your way over to him and Started straddling his Hips. “Hey, don’t get so impatient, I need to lubricate.” He chuckled at you. Grabbing the coconut oil and grabbing a generous amount, smearing some onto his cock. He Looked at you and smiled softly. “Don’t panic, let me help you.” He Guided your hips Down a little. Feeling his Tip of his cock-head pressing against your entrance you moaned a little bit, but it was more of a wince than a Moan. “Fuck.” You Winced. “It’s alright, I’m right here..” he comforted you and kissed your Cheek. He felt you sink down lower into him and finally sitting down on him. “Good job, see? I told you that you could. Do it.”

He then started to let you adjust to his size, though he wasn’t that big but it was better than any smaller Size. You started to move a little, wrapping your arms around his neck, circling your hips a little. You moaned softly. “Oh,fuck.” You cried out softly. Around 3 minutes later you started moving at your own pace, Moaning and Bouncing up and down on his Cock. Sunghoon was Moaning pretty softly. You could slightly hear him. He threw his head back. And bit his lip. “Oh fuck, y/n. Fuckk.” He was vocal while you were riding him, you might get noise complaints from the other college students in the dormitories but man, that didn’t matter right now.

“Oh my god, Sunghoon. I’m gonna fucking come again.” You warned him and He slapped your ass while you were still Bouncing on and off his cock. Your phone started ringing, and sunghoon had picked it up.

AARON // SUNGHOON

-‘y/n I’m sorry.” It was Aaron

-“y/n’s pretty busy.” Sunghoon said, still focused on you Riding his cock. He moaned a slight bit.

-“who the fuck is this?” Aaron was In his room, with Mara. And Mara was shocked hearing Sunghoon moan. She knew it was sunghoon since you,sunghoon, and Mara would talk sometimes.

-“this is sunghoon, Y/ns roomate?” Sunghoon glanced over at you and smiled. ‘Good girl, riding my cock good.’ He said. Aaron obviously hearing what Sunghoon said.

-“excuse me??.. are you fucking my girlfriend?” Aaron said over the line, just because I cheated doesn’t mean you should either. he thought.

-“hell yes I am. Let me show her off, bouncing off my Cock like the gorgeous girl she is.” Sunghoon turned the camera on. Showing you, riding on sunghoons dick. Moaning and whimpering, you were a damn mess. But you were still so pretty to sunghoon. “Isn’t she so pretty On my Cock Aaron?”

-“you fucking cheater!! You’re still mine.” Aaron Said furiously until Sunghoon cut him off.

-“no she’s not, I’m the first one in her Pussy, aren’t I? You didn’t Even Bother To kiss your own girl Aaron. Besides, she wants me, is that Right?” You were whining and Moaning then saying “yes I’m fucking yours.” He chuckled and Asked you a question. “Who’s is it?” You Were Concentrating on riding him, then saying. “This pussy’s yours, sunghoon.” You cried out loud.

-“…”

- phone call has ended. -

“He ended the call, Y/n.” Sunghoon finally said. Kneading your breasts in his hands. “You’re mine, right?” You nodded at his question and You quietly said. “I’m gonna come.” He chuckled and smiled. “I’m almost there.” You Were desperate for release so you began to Move on him faster. That caught sunghoon of guard. Then he moaned out loud. “Fuckk y/n.” He twitched inside of you “fuck I’m cumming.” He said. Before finally bucking his hips into you. Hitting your G-spot on accident making you climax as well. “Fuck! Oh shit.” You twitched in his arms.

Crying out loud and panting. Collapsing in his arms. “I’m here, y/n..” he kissed your cheek and pulled out gently. Placing you onto the bed. And the got up to dispose of the used condom. Rolling it off of him and throwing it in the trash. You guys laid In bed for a little. Sunghoon giving your back and thighs a massage. “Isn’t that alright?” You nodded and Laid in his arms. He kissed you and whispered some words In your ears. “You did so good.. get some beauty sleep. I’ll clean this up tomorrow.

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober 2024: Day 05

Kinktober Masterlist rara avis - "the rare bird" John Price x f!reader Kinks > yandere, NC voyeurism, stalking, rough sex Full tags on AO3 - MDNI

When you move to your new home, you are totally swept off your feet by the amenities. There are so many beautiful, wooded trails and a gorgeous creek for you to explore in your own backyard. Your neighbor, an avid bird watcher, mostly keeps to himself. However, you start feeling like you’re the bird being watched.

If you don't like what's in the kink list, don't fucking click on this story. You're not invited. Block me, and then.... Get. Fucking. Lost.

You had picked this place because of the view. Your backyard overlooked the most gorgeous, fairytale-perfect creek that you’d ever seen. In the morning, ducks and their ducklings played in the shallow bends and curves of the whispering brook, and at night, frogs and fireflies sang and danced to serenade you to sleep. It was heaven. 

So, that’s why you practically lived in your backyard. You were always outside gardening or weeding, laying by the stream with a spicy book, or swinging gently in your hammock, letting your toes skim the cold water of your very own oasis. 

Your swimming had started as a summer habit. After you finished your sweaty chores, you loved stripping down to your bra and panties to cool off in the little creek. The deepest part only came to your belly button, so it was more like a sit rather than a swim, but you didn’t mind. In fact, if you remained still long enough, little finches would sneak along the bank, keeping an eye on you while they hunted for bugs and seeds in the muddy shoal. 

Autumn brought cardinals and bluebird that roosted in the low branches of your trees, and a very vocal whippoorwill, all competing for their own spot in this obvious paradise. 

You weren’t much of a bird watcher, but your neighbor was. 

Captain John Price was some sort of legend. He had served in the special forces, or still did serve, but that was all classified. Your other neighbors had let you in on his intense background, yet no one had anything but the highest praise for his classy manners and charming smile. And while he did flash a beaming grin to the Smiths and the Broussards across the wide lane, he looked at you with a different sort of smile. 

The way he looked at you made you melt like a popsicle on a hot day. 

You’d gotten closer to the captain over the last year or so that you’d lived here. He had come over one evening because your pipes had burst in the freeze, and he knew just how to fix it. Over the course of the season, he’d sit outside and you would make excuses to chat with him. Once he had your attention, he’d point out all the different types of birds that flitted between his trees and yours, helping you recognize their calls. He’d bring his binoculars with him some evenings while he sat to watch the avian traffic, and he even let you peer through the lenses to see a nest of baby chicks in your own backyard. 

Then, he’d had to go away for “work”, so he asked you to keep an eye on the mail for him. He was only supposed to be gone for six weeks, but six more weeks passed before he showed up with ten stitches over his eye and his arm in a sling asking for his key back. 

When he saw your face fall in reaction to his wounds, he chuckled, the corners of his eyes creasing at their seams as he told his lies,

“Clumsy, me. Fell down the bloody stairs at Heathrow. Dunno what hurts worse, my arm or my pride.”

The wink that he tacked on at the end of his quip was Cupid’s thick-shafted arrow, striking you right in your heart. You were in trouble. This man was some sort of secret agent contract killer, and yet you found yourself replacing old boyfriends’ faces with his when you made yourself come at night, imagining him spreading you open instead of whoever had been your flavor of the month back then. Price might be the most dangerous man on Earth, but goddamnit, you didn’t care.

Over the following summer, your dark fantasies continued. He started working on his own backyard, putting up birdhouses and sharing facts with you about some of the local species he was hoping to host when you passed each other coming and going. Each day that you got to see him was a true gift, even if you didn’t really care about birding in the least. 

One particular afternoon was especially fruitful. The captain was out there all day trimming trees, cutting brush, and hacking back old growth… shirtless. His muscles gleamed like a hirsute Adonis, snapping and rolling under his skin like a symphony of strength. The way his tanned flesh gleamed in the sun made him look like he was carved out of bronze. 

So, you thought, two could play at that game. 

You bought a white bikini online and lounged in it the first day it came in, rocking back and forth in your hammock, hoping that you could catch a glimpse of him watching you with that savage look in his eyes. When you spotted him glance over at you from his garden, you knew your plan had worked. He would peek over his shoulder as he raked or shoveled, almost imperceptibly, but you were watching him like a hawk and you noticed every little breath and movement he was making. 

As the afternoon wore on, especially when you needed to apply more sunscreen, he fed you juicier and juicer morsels of his lustful longing. He would stare, when he thought you weren’t looking, at the way your heavy tits strained the lycra of your triangle top, and when you bent over, his eyes would scrape and claw for every curve of your plump ass before righting himself again before you caught him scavenging. 

At one point, you pretended to fall asleep, letting your book fall limply out of your hand and onto the grass, making your mouth soft and slack, just to see what he would do. To your shock, he pulled out his phone and began to take pictures of you, quick and efficient, pocketing his device before he even looked at the results. His audacity was shocking. Your mind raced with all of the thoughts of what he might do with your images, of how he might touch himself thinking about you, hungering for you and your tender body. 

A few minutes passed, and he continued to try and work, but it was futile. John started to walk over to you, moving through your shared backyard and making a steady advance on your position. As he got closer and closer, you tried to control your breathing, reminding yourself to be dead asleep, forcing your mind not to obsess over his enormous muscle-bound body or the dark fur that covered his skin, becoming denser and curling as it trailed below his belly button, pointing you to where you wanted to focus. 

He stood a short distance away for a while, and he seemed to be locked in a silent battle with himself. The captain wanted to attack and retreat at the same time. All the while, you noticed him shaking his leg ever so slightly, bending the knee and widening his stance. But, his shifting wasn’t working, and to your absolute joy, he finally relented and had to use his hand to readjust his growing cock. He pulled the body of it up and over his left hip, lovingly squeezing the tip just a bit before letting it go. You marveled at his girth, praying that the outline in his pants was truly representative of the absolute monster he kept inside of them.

Your neighbor allowed himself to step forward. And again. Slowly, step by step, he closed the gap, his eyes never leaving your face, worrying that you would wake up to find him leering. Yet, he didn’t care enough to return to his side of the yard. 

Shame, it seemed, was not a deterrent for his thirst. 

When he was close enough to touch you, he knelt down, studying your face. Then, his eyes began to drink you in, gazing at your breasts as they hung slightly to the side, their round shapes being pulled by gravity into smooth teardrops of sensitive flesh. His hands fidgeted with the wooden handle of his rake he was holding, wanting to touch the silk of your skin and test its fineness. 

Then, he trailed his vision along the midline of your belly, chewing on the inside of his lip as he studied your thickness. When he looked down at the join of your legs, staring at your fat pussy hidden under the thin fabric of your suit, his whole body sighed. You watched his bones sag and reset themselves, his jaw working through its hinge once and then twice as if he was chewing on cold mastic. 

Just when you thought he would reach out to touch you, or maybe snap another picture, he bent down a little further and picked up your fallen book. As he crouched there beside you, he flipped a few pages back and forth until he seemed to find what he was looking for. A twitch of a smile pulled at his full mouth, and he laid the book back on the grass, open to the scene he wanted you to discover. 

His eyes gave you one last look, wistful almost, and then he returned to his yard. Now, you just had to wait for him to look away for long enough that you could pretend to wake up from your nap. Luckily, he ducked into his shed for a moment, taking out new tools to use, and while he was busy organizing his equipment, you roused yourself from your farce. 

You were soaking wet. You could feel the slide of your desire between your soft lips, and your mind was buzzing with adrenaline.  

As casually as you could, you reached over and grabbed your book, tossing your bookmark into the page he’d kept for you, forcing yourself to wait until you were in the safety of your own home to see what he had wanted to show you.

You got up from your hammock and stretched, gathering up your belongings and making a slow but deliberate trek back indoors. When you noticed him looking over, you turned to wave, giving him what you hoped was a typical, neighborly smile. He smiled back but didn’t return the gesture, resting his hands on the handle of a long spade, watching you as you sealed yourself back indoors. 

The moment you shut the door, you opened the book, desperate to read the scene he wanted you to see. It was a raunchy moment for the main characters with the hero burying his face between his paramour’s thighs, eating his fill of her. Just the thought of John Price wanting to perform this scene with you was enough to make you clench your knees together with lurid want. You let your hand slip over the top of your swimsuit bottoms, and you teased yourself to a quick, vicious orgasm right in the middle of your kitchen, sinking down to the floor in a wet, inglorious puddle.

The next few days passed without incident. You weren’t even sure if he was home. But, one afternoon, you were both getting the mail, and he was carrying in a long box. It was about half as tall as he was, and it didn’t look lightweight. 

“Wow,” you raised your voice a bit to get his attention, “You’ve got quite the package.”

You hadn’t initially intended for the innuendo, but you weren’t mad about it. You even gave him a knowing smile, acknowledging the line. He chuckled, the sound of it creating a churning feeling deep in your core, 

“Telescope. Your creek had a kingfisher in it last week, and I’m hoping to see him again.”

“Oh, cool,” you walked a little closer, making your conversation more intimate, pretending to be interested in birds for once in your life, “Is that a rare bird?” 

His warm purr turned to a suggestive growl, soft and trapped in his throat, and the fire in his eyes made your blood run hot, but he wasn’t excited about birds. He was excited about you. 

“Aye, the rarest,” he nodded, pointing up to his main bedroom’s balcony on the second level, “I think I’ve got a decent view from there. This thing comes with a camera attachment, so I’ll try to catch him for you.”

“That’s really awesome,” you grinned, noticing that his balcony also had a pretty damn good view of your own bedroom window, “I bet you’ll get some great shots. Can’t wait to see them.”

“You bet,” he grinned knowingly, dragging his huge package back inside. 

That night, you watched him setting it all up, spying on him from your own bedroom window. He was fixing the telescope on your creek, making sure the angle was just right. So, you decided to make it worth his while. 

In the purple dusk, you found yourself walking out into your backyard in nothing but a thin mesh cover-up. It was barely enough to be publicly decent, but as soon as it got wet, you knew it would show everything. It took all your power not to glance over your shoulder at him as you stepped into the creek, but you kept your cool. Face forward, sinking slowly into the water for a quick dip. 

You settled into the stream, kneeling on the soft rocks, playing in the babbling waters, pretending to relax after a long day. You started skimming for pretty stones, leaning forward to wet the top of your cover-up, feeling the fabric cling to your peaked nipples, knowing they would be very much on display through the tissue-thin mesh. 

Unable to stand it any longer, you dared to glance up at the balcony. There, sitting behind his brand new scope, was your hot neighbor, staring through the lens trained right on you. A rush of desire hit you like a drug, and you made yourself bravely gaze into the lens, peering through the dark glass, knowing he would see you looking. 

Then, when he didn’t react, you pushed the envelope. You dropped the pretty rock you had in your palm and scooped up a handful of water between your hands, holding them together like a bowl. Then, you poured it on your neck, letting the cool liquid soak the rest of your top, making your garment entirely transparent and sticking to your body like latex. 

Every moment that passed made you more brazen. You began to trace the outline of your collarbone, rubbing the side of your neck, pretending to massage away the stress. 

Your eyes kept glancing to his spot, looking at him as he stared at you. This time, when you looked back, his body illuminated by his outdoor light, you saw something magical. His hand was stuck down his black, athletic shorts, and he was slowly jerking his cock back and forth, pleasuring himself as he watched you moonbathe in your stream. 

Now, you locked eyes with the scope, and you turned your body towards him, making sure he knew that this show was for him. You moved your hands to your hanging breasts, circling them and pressing them together, holding them through the wet mesh. It felt so nice to squeeze them and feel the pleasure you were crafting, so you began to play with your nipples, plucking them and pinching the tips, being gentle and cruel, letting your eyes and mouth soften as you teased your own body.

You wondered if he was taking pictures or not. Maybe a video? You didn’t care. You wanted him to take them. You wanted him to take you, if he would have you. 

When he saw evidence of your want, he pulled his cock free from his shorts, and now he was very clearly jerking off, using his precome to shine his shaft to a wet gleam. You wished you could taste it. You wanted to study the fullness of his head, suckling on the drooling tip, and you wanted to trace the veins of his shaft like rivers on a map, blue and full of his warm blood. 

Just the thought of how his fat dick would feel inside of you was sending you over the edge. So, you sank one of your hands between your legs to relieve some tension, massaging your clit in frantic circles under the water. You must have gotten lost in your own ministrations, because when you snapped back to reality and focused on the balcony again, he was gone. 

At first, your heart sank, disappointed that he was finished with your display. Then, you heard the slam of a door and looked down into his backyard. There he was, a tight white tee shirt stretching over his broad shoulders, his cockhead trapped in the elastic of his shorts, the outline of it visible as he walked, barefoot, straight towards you. 

You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to do. He looked like he was in a rage. His brow was set in a determined line, and a frightened thrill writhed its way along your spine. Was he angry with you for being so indecent? For teasing him with your lewdness? 

He said nothing as he approached, and you thought he would stop at the bank of the creek, but he didn’t. He came splashing right through the water, making his way right over to the spot where you were kneeling, reaching out and grabbing you tightly around your shoulders, lifting you out of the water in a wet, chaotic mess.

You were pressed against his body, getting his clothes all wet, gasping from the shock of his aggression. You started to protest, trying to get your footing, but his mouth silenced your words. John pressed his lips to yours in a ferocious kiss, invading you with his long tongue, and sucking on your bottom lip hard enough for it to sting. 

He pulled away and began to bite and lick his way down your neck, stealing your breath and stumbling through the creek as he devoured you, marching you backwards, awkward and halting, all the way to the shallow near the bank. Then, just when you could feel the pebbles give way to the sand and mud of the shoal, you felt him shove you to the ground. You landed hard on your rump, gasping from the violence of it, trapped somewhere between terror and ecstasy. 

“John, I wa–”

He fell to his knees and kissed your words away again, tasting you over and over, committing your flavor to memory, fisting your hair to control the way you kissed him back, stealing you from yourself like a thief. 

You were being covered, inch by inch, with his heavy body, and he leaned over you, kissing and sucking and licking and biting whatever his mouth could reach. He moved to your nipple, suckling on you through the thin mesh of your cover-up, the warmth of his tongue a stark contrast to the chill of the wet fabric. He stayed there for as long as he wanted, groping and pinching your other breast as he sucked on you, making you whimper from the overstimulation. Then, he sat back on his heels, his knees still stuck in the shallow water of the creek, your bodies half-in and half-out of the span. 

He was peering down at you and panting. You were both breathing hard, your chests heaving, staring at each other like a predator with its prey, not knowing which one you were but dying to be the latter. 

John seemed like he was waiting for something, and when you saw his eyes move down your body to stare at your pussy, you knew what he wanted. So, very slowly, you opened yourself up to him, unfolding your legs from your center, blooming for him like a dew-soaked flower, ready to present your sticky nectar to him. The sigh of relief that rattled through his body made you want to come. 

He fell to his chest, clutching your hips in his huge, strong hands, lifting you to his mouth as he began to eat you from the inside. His tongue prodded and curled, searching for your favorite spots, finding them with a suspicious ease. Licking across your clit, his mouth created wet, pornographic noises, and he groaned as he ate, unable to hold back his expression of pleasure with every brain-breaking suck and lick. 

When you cried out from the immediate response your body sent slashing through your belly, he looked up from his work, but he didn’t stop. His eyes, pale blue and feral, caught yours and something inside of them forced you to stay on him, unable to look away, trapped like a rabbit in a snapping snare.

His steady, forceful suckling dragged you to an orgasm, making you tremble and wriggle against his jaws, your body sliding in the muddy bank of the stream. You felt him pull away, and you thought he was done, the spell broken by your keening completion. But, he stripped off his shirt and raked the band of his shorts under his enormous sack, presenting his engorged prick to you like a present. 

Looking down at you, his eyes hooded, the pupils blown, you knew he was waiting again. Waiting for you to let him in. You were already spread open for him like a wanton whore, barely clothed and filthy from the ground. So, you reached between your thighs to cradle the underside of his shaft, petting him gently, tugging him forward in invitation. 

His nonverbal viciousness was making you feel like you were under his spell, so you dared not speak lest it could be broken. Wordlessly, you pulled him toward your dripping hole, coaxing him in, letting him know he was more than welcome in your body’s sacral embrace. 

A deep, demonic moan fell from his lips as he let his heavy cockhead slot itself between your lips. You took your hand away, returning to your breasts, playing with yourself just as you had in his telescope, letting him see you bring yourself pleasure at your delicate peaks. 

Hungry, he thrust himself forward through your folds, slipping in your wetness, the weeping slit of his tip bullying your clit with every forward motion. Back and forth, he slid through you, slicking himself in your flesh, using himself like a toy in your sensitive petals. 

You couldn’t help but whine for him. It felt mind-numbingly delicious to be played with in this way, and his rocking undulations drove you to the point of madness. You began to hump his shaft like a naughty dog, eager for everything he was giving you and more. His cock was big enough to be a challenge, but you were up for it. You didn’t care if it hurt. You wanted to feel him invading you, claiming you like an animal out here in the stream. 

Finally, when John couldn’t wait any longer, he allowed his head to slip down and notch in the pliant sling of your quim, moaning just as desperately as you had been as he felt you swallow his tip inside of your hole.

“Nhgh,” he clenched his teeth as he pressed his hips forward, his hand grabbing your hip hard enough to bruise, holding you in place so you couldn’t escape him, as if you wanted to, “Bloody hell, you’re so wet for me.”

You cried out as he pried you open, his heavy shaft too thick for your unpracticed slit,

“John… it’s so big… oh, God…”  

His grimace morphed into a smile, and he slid himself out before pumping forward again, trying to fit his thick rod into your cunt,

“Thought you could just give me a fuckin’ show. Thought I’d just watch, that I’d let you get away with it.”

He shoved himself forward, forcing a shrill scream from your lips, laying himself over you and trapping you between his arms. As he began to thrust himself into you, dragging himself out and punching himself back in, you felt hot tears sting your eyes with their salt, overwhelmed by the blinding pleasure you were experiencing. 

“Fuckkkkk,” you watched as his eyes rolled back in his head as he cursed at the feeling of your body clenching around him, stuck in the feeding-bleeding cycle of your shared bliss, “Rub that pussy for me, love.”

You obeyed, following his eyes as he watched your fingers make their little ovals in the plushness of your flesh. He groaned, pleased, and set himself to his task. As he fucked you, he began in steady, pumping thrusts. You could have kept time with his momentum, shocked by his consistency. He never faltered, he never weakened; he simply fed himself to you, in and out, stuffing you full of his hard length and rubbing at your softest, deepest places. 

Between his steady sex and your familiar touch, you were falling over yourself in an embarrassingly short time, your pussy already primed for pleasure, horny beyond belief, tingling and eager to throb around his shaft in celebration. He bent to kiss you on your sensitive neck, sucking against your skin, mean enough to leave a mark, whispering a chaotic mess of messages to you as he was lost in the thrall of fucking you into the dirt,

“Feel you wantin’ to come, pretty bird. Sing for me, yeah? Let me hear you scream for me.”

This couldn’t be real. His filthy talk was pulling you deeper and deeper into your mounting orgasm, and you felt the line snap. Your body began to tense up, your muscles tight and shaking, and you could felt the rush of your come coating you both from the inside. You were feeling completely unbound, and you had to stop touching your clit. It was too much, but he wasn’t having it,

“Don’t stop. Don’t… C’mere.”

He shoved your hand away and took over for you, fucking you and rubbing you, refusing to let you escape from his efforts. His touch flung you back into an orgasmic whirlpool, making you dizzy, tricking you into thinking you had finally stopped coming and then proving you wrong. He was dragging them out of you, ragged and nasty, moaning from your screams and from the gripping, pulsating tightness of your pussy. 

“That’s it. Such a pretty song. Keep singin’ for me, love. Makes me wanna fuckin’ fill you up with my come.”

“I’m… John, please… Mmngh!” You fell apart, your orgasm turning you into a brainless little fucktoy for him, your body betraying you, defecting to his side, willing to listen to his every command. 

He took his hand away, and you sighed in relief until you realized he had new plans for you. He pulled away, sitting back and flipping you over with frightening ease, helping you to your knees before feeding himself back inside of you from behind. Your chest was pressed down into the mud, the cold ground stinging your swollen nipples, the smell of the wet dirt heady in your nose. 

“Pretty bird. Look at this fat fuckin’ arse,” he grunted, slapping you hard on your right cheek. 

“Angh!” You cried out. 

“Perfect,” he smiled, showing you his sharp teeth as you stared at him over your shoulder. 

He hunched himself over your body, humping his fat prick into you like a dog, grinding himself into your hole with wet, milking noises filling the night air as he fucked you in the dark. John was pumping himself hard enough in you that you thought you might bruise. You knew your pussy was helpless to his invasion, and it trembled with every thrust, trying its best to flood you with your own lubrication, doing everything it could to help you cope. 

Frantic, John wrapped his hand around the base of your neck, holding you beneath him, pressing his hips even closer so he could reach his crown to new depths. The angle forced you to arch your back and he rewarded you for it, rubbing his hand along your ribs before reaching under your cover-up to hold your breast in his palm, gripping you fiercely. 

“Holy hell, this tight little cunt’s gonna make me come, baby,” he purred into your ear, bending himself over you, increasing his pace and his power, watching the pleasure-packed tears roll down your cheeks, “You want it? You want my fuckin’ come? Want me to put it right here?”

You felt his hand reach around your leg so that he could press his fist against your womb, making your body feel every inch of him even tighter inside of you, allowing you to know exactly just how deep he was rutting into you. 

“Please, John… I need…” You tried to answer, but you were fuck-drunk and dumb. You were nothing more than his cocksleeve. You were made for him to pump his load into you. That was all you wanted. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else even existed. Your whole world fell away, replaced by your neighbor’s pounding rod. 

“Tha’s it, pretty bird,” he rolled his fist against your lower belly in deep, massaging circles, flinging you into a rolling orgasm, “The louder you scream, the harder I’ll fuckin’ come.”

His groaning turned into animalistic grunting, shouting, growling despair, and he sank himself down into you, flush with his girthy base, fully sheathed in your hot core. You could feel him filling you with his creamy orgasm, letting rope after rope shoot into your body, trapped inside by his thick root. 

John’s breath was hot against your cheek, and he kissed his way down your body as he pulled himself away. The long retreat of his shaft made you feel like your soul was being ripped from your chest, and the wet, gooey noise of his spend sliding out of you turning your heart inside out. You collapsed to the ground, not caring in the least about the mud, nor its cold, clinging, filth; you just breathed and trembled, used and spent. 

You thought he would leave you where he found you, his cruel love shaming him into fleeing such a scene of terrible waste. But, he didn’t. He shucked off his shorts and pulled your cover-up off of you, letting it slap down into the shoal. Then, he scooped you up in his arms and waded with you back into the creek, laying you in the running water, black with the night’s dark sky above you, cold against your sensitive flesh. 

You shivered, curling into him, and you felt his hands using the clear water to wash you clean. He was clearing the sand out of your hair and off of your skin, gently as he could, caring for you like a precious pet, baptizing you in his own praises. Telling you how good you were for him, how you were his pretty bird, how he would take care of everything. 

When he was done, he lifted you out of the stream and carried you to the yard, heading for his backdoor. He nudged it open and lifted you all the way up the stairs, single-minded on his mission. You were in and out of consciousness, too weak to protest, and when he finally lay you in his own bed, he wrapped you in a towel he pulled from his bathroom, using another to dry himself off as well. 

You groaned, trying to get up, but he lay himself on top of you, fidgeting with the covers under you were under him and the sheet, locked against his naked body.

“I should go… “ You whispered, trying to fight the sleep that was seeping into your mind. 

You felt the prod of his cock, hard once more, and you whined from the absurdity of your sore hole being asked to stretch again for him.

He pushed himself inside with little resistance this time, and started the process again, taking your primed body like you were made for it. Like it was your one, true purpose. 

“I can’t,” you whimpered, panting and curling against him, “Don’t make me come again.”

“Shh,” John said, kissing you quiet, “Hush, love. I’m not fuckin’ finished.”

 You couldn’t remember how many orgasms he had pulled from you, but when you woke the next morning, his arm wrapped tight around your breasts, you felt like you had transcended. You were on a whole new plane of existence, and although you were bruised, used, and soaking in his milky seed, you were well and truly satisfied. 

As your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw a picture of yourself come into view. You were on his nightstand, dressed in your white bikini, pretending to sleep with your book by your side. It was trapped beneath a pane of glass, gleaming in the dawn, surrounded by a proud frame. 

That’s weird, you thought. Framing it was a little odd. But, then, you saw the rest. All over his wall, the one that faced your bedroom, pictures of you covered the sheetrock like wallpaper. You stopped breathing. All you could see were pictures of you from every different angle and position. Some were of you getting dressed in your bedroom, and some were of you shopping at the store. Some were close portraits, and some were taken in places you didn’t even remember. They were everywhere, floor to ceiling, pasted very meticulously to the plaster. And you were in every one. 

You hadn’t realized he was awake yet, but you knew he had been watching you examine his gallery when his palm covered your mouth stopping you in the middle of your scream.

[httpsghostie]

Under one Roof pt 1

pt 2

OK finally IT'S HERE

smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing

my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE

and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me

Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.

Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short

Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n

masterlist

Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.

He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.

That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.

He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.

He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.

And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.

He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.

And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.

"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."

"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."

"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."

"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."

Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.

That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that. 

"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.

And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.

He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games. 

She should know the truth about me.

He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.

You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.

"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.

He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.

Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.

But that changed.

He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.

That old lady, always saving your life.

[partycatty]

Do you plan on continuing new tricks?

perchance.

bi-han > distract me (new tricks 2)

bi-han feels conflicting emotions after your spur-of-the-moment revenge hookup. what better way to relieve that stress through more spur-of-the-moment sex?

warnings: nsfw lol, mean bi-han (so just regular ass bi-han) (seriously i headcanon this man as a MAJOR asshole, like he ain't giving you princess treatment babe), this is a direct sequel, skip halfway down for the porn without plot.

notes: i have never been begged for a pt2 harder than i have for this one-shot. who would've thought y'all would froth this hard! enjoy!

PART 1

johnny's whiny, frustrated voice made your smile curl ear to ear. you won the stupid war he stirred up, and a sense of relief washed over you knowing that johnny's antics would stop.

"so what if i did? why do you care?" you fire back, your smirk dripping so hard from your tone that johnny immediately calls you out on it.

"don't play dumb with me, girl! you're such an asshole. we're REALLY done now," johnny growls, though his words don't hold much value anymore considering he's the one that dug his own grave and got mad when he'd sit in it. before you could correct him by saying you two have been broken up for quite some time, the call ends abruptly.

he falls suspiciously dark on social media in the following days, and you make it a part of your day to check on his pages for any activity to get a sense of his side of the situation. your life is more than your phone though, and bi-han likes to remind you.

you're standing idly on the compound, eyes fixated on your screen. as you're absentmindedly scrolling, bi-han walks by and a cold, calloused hand grabs your chin and flicks your head forward. he doesn't even stop to say anything, just pulls your face away from the screen and walks off with an icy huff.

another time, you're sitting across the table from him, one hand on your chopsticks and the other on your phone. bi-han's hands clench so hard his chopsticks snap. you only notice his annoyance when a thin trail of ice snakes around the dishes, crawls up your elbow, and freezes your hand in place. he takes this opportunity to reach across the table and pocket your device in his breast pocket.

"an unnecessary distraction," he grumbles, settling back to his meal. you're left dumbfounded. and no, you stil haven't gotten it back.

for whatever reason he'd rather die than express, he despises your phone. which is odd, considering how he gripped it like it was going to fly away when you sucked him off.

you tried so hard to push these thoughts away, but they haunted you at night like the Ghost of Christmas Horny. it was downright absurd how much he swirled in your mind after a lowly one-night stand, if you could even call it that!

these thoughts simmered over when you were left alone after a long day. there was a chill of wind through your open windows, letting the moonlight seep through the sheer curtains as they dance. everyone was asleep when you got the idea to attempt to relieve the tension you brought upon yourself from your wandering fantasies.

glancing around to pointlessly ensure you're completely alone, your hand dips under your waistband, feeling your aching sex from lack of stimulation. you gasp to yourself and bite down on your palm to silence yourself. once you feel adequately used to the feeling, you begin to slowly please yourself to the memories of bi-han's cock.

the pleasure wears off, but the neediness doesn't. goddamnit, your mind wasn't enough. you needed porn... or that video. if only you had your phone, but right now it was comfortably hugging bi-han's muscular ice pop biddies. you were jealous.

maybe it was out of pathetic desperation, or maybe it was because you were fed up with this dance you two were doing, but you propped yourself up with a huff, settled your clothes back into place, and sought out bi-han's sleeping quarters. your already throbbing cunt was fluttering at the thought of seeing him again, so late.

you walked a decent amount before finally arriving at his room. as your fingers rested on the sliding handle, you freeze when you hear the noises coming from the other side.

"how about that, cage? taught your dog some new tricks. i'd say she's exceeding expectations."

face contorting into horror and intrigue, you slide the door just a crack, enough to slide a penny through and peer in.

the only glowing lights in the room was a lantern... and what appeared to be your phone screen. you could see the faint colors of your phone case with bi-han's hands gripping the back of it. his back is to you as he sits at his large desk littered with scrolls and stationery.

and then you hear his subtle moans. is he... jerking off to the video...? is that why he wanted your phone so damn bad?

you slide the door open fully, hoping to not make enough noise to startle him. but alas, you remind yourself that he is in fact a hardened ninja who's constantly on edge, of course he heard you.

bi-han twists his torso to meet your gaze with a deep exhale. a thick cloud of frosty air spills from his lips. his eyes are uncharacteristically wide as he's frozen in place. when he regains his sense of dignity, he tries to stuff his dick back in his pants, but this proves to be a challenging task due to his flustered state and... size.

"out," he coldly demands, holding that icy eye contact with you that you curse yourself for folding to.

"i want my phone back," you stand your ground, the tension and catching him in the act giving you a surge of ego.

"out," he commands again, this time sounding more like an owner to his dog.

"or what?"

"or you're fixing what you started."

you lurch forward, trying to avoid the lingering horniness from your earlier desperation but it feels like an olympic sport to avert your gaze from his cock, which looked like a beast held down by the shackles of his pants. the damn thing was spilling from his fly, his shaft visibly abused from his private moment.

this distraction proves to be your downfall. bi-han grabs your neck and spins you, pressing your face into the scrolls atop the desk in retaliation. his other hand wraps around your stomach as he pulls himself close to you. his chest fits against the arch of your back like the world's thirstiest puzzle piece. the cryomancer's cold breath on your ear makes you tremble.

"playing this game, are we?" he asks, tone dripping with malice. "couldn't get me out of your head?"

you swallow deeply, completely pinned by his thick arms. his crotch presses into you, settling nicely between your asscheeks. jesus christ, you forget how girthy it is proportional to your body.

"i just wanted... my phone..." you mutter against the wooden surface your face is being shoved on, attempting to loosen yourself from his grasp which only bites you in the ass when you realize you're grinding on him. "my imagination wasn't enough."

"your imagination?" bi-han grumbles, removing the hand from your torso and snaking it down your waistband. "you couldn't have come to me first?" jealousy and irritation leaks from his words.

you tense up at his abrupt offer, trying to crane your neck to look back.

"i didn't know that was an outstanding offer, bi-haaah-" your retort is cut short when bi-han's thick fingers swipe down your folds, gathering a wetness he didn't expect to find so early into the interaction. you silently thank yourself for prepping without knowing. your knees buckle, but bi-han uses his own legs to keep you upright and still.

he lets out a sigh of pleasure at the sight before removing his hands from you entirely. he makes quick work of your pants before working on himself, unleashing his dick once more. you wish you could admire it or at least face the man that's about to boomerang you from the heavens to netherrealm and back again, but the attempt dies when he grabs both of your hands with one of his own and creates a thick pair of frozen handcuffs. involuntarily, you squirm and thrash against his body, trying to free yourself. it's during one of these shimmies that bi-han positions himself at your entrance with a scowl.

"no use in fighting back. you wanted this," bi-han's hand pushes down on the back of your neck, ensuring you're fully in place for him. in one cruel thrust, he slams his cock into your entrance and buries himself deep. "all you've done is distract me since your stupid offer. this is your punishment, slut."

your horniness from earlier already feels completely satiated as your walls clench around his length. you let out a cry at the abrupt abuse of your cunt, but you're not truly complaining. if anything, this is ten times better than that stupid phone. you bite your lip to try and stop the drool pooling in the corner of your mouth, but it's hard to keep your lips shut when he pulls out momentarily before slamming back in. he needs a license for that bioweapon.

as his thrusts grow more rhythmic and accustomed to your hole, his hand reels back before slapping your ass, squeezing hard and feeling the fat pool around his fingers. he relishes in the feeling, how he missed your warm body against his, though he wouldn't tell you this; he'd show you.

he pounds so hard you're starting to forget why you even came there in the first place. you feel filled to the brim each time he reaches the apex of his thrust, surprised he hasn't completely ripped you in half. sure, you'd fit him in your mouth before, but this was an entirely new sensation, and being bound makes it all the better.

you body quakes from the overstimulation, it's just too big and too much. your lashes dampen from the accumulating tears. the sound of skin on skin becomes deafening.

"'s too much-" you whimper out, legs failing you. the only thing keeping you from sliding to the ground is bi-han's hand on your neck. "sl-slow down, please-"

SLAP. another strike on the ass. bi-han was not happy with your request.

"you're not quitting now," bi-han growls, his hand moving to the front of your neck, clenching your jaw. "i feel how wet you are for me. don't act like you don't need this as much as i do."

oh great heavens. he let his feelings slip.

your eyes roll back at his filthy words, feeling zero shame in agreeing. he was wholly right: you needed him like you needed water. the icy handcuffs start to burn your skin, and the feeling in your hands becomes a memory as you're being plowed by that downright dumb dick. and holy shit, you were far closer than you thought.

"c-can't... for, ngh, much longer," you whine out, matching his thrusts by bouncing back onto him, though you're too sloppy to properly maintain a pace in sync. your walls flutter and the contact creates a soggy sound that drips down your thighs and coats his cock as if you're marking your spot. where you belong.

bi-han fully ignores your heads-up and seeks his own high, eyes transfixed on your ass while it juggles against his hips. he could get used to a pussy like this. he should have come to you sooner. his hands shoot to your hips as he squeezes to tightly bruises bloom from your sensitive skin. his eyes are clenched shut and his head tilts downward as he focuses on cumming, and yes, he will cum inside.

"you're going to take every drop, aren't you," bi-han's voice comes out more whiny than usual. you're already familiar with this tone. "you're mine to use, to... claim... hah-" his stoic manners are coming undone as he loses himself inside of you. both of your moans and grunts become needy whimpers and gasps.

he snaps his hips one last time before genuinely needing your body to keep himself upright. his semen thoroughly coats your pussy's walls as his thrusts stagger lazily. you feel your own coil come undone and a wash of heat encapsulates your body. your orgasms paired together feels messy and yet, so perfect. it's like your body already craves more.

bi-han reaches down to your abused pussy, sticking two fingers inside and holds it there.

"if i catch a single drop on my floor, you're not leaving in one piece," he coldly threatens, using his other hand to stick his appendage back into his pants. you have no energy to protest, you just take his fingers numbly as you sprawl your top half on his desk.

"yes, sir..." you slur out, trying to regain your composure.

"and i'm keeping your phone."

you're too cockdrunk still, so his words don't truly register. you just repeat yourself blindly.

"yes, sir."

bi-han lets out a small, barely-there chuckle to himself. the handcuffs shatter into dull shards of ice, giving you a chance to hoist yourself up properly.

"now, get out of my office," he commands one final time,pointing to the exit. your vision is too fuzzy to see the pleased smile on his lips. maybe he can warm up to you over time?

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (Professor Logan Howlett/Fem Student Mutant Reader)

A/N: This one's a doozy, don't know how I feel about most of Logan's dialogue in this one but oh well! Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Awkwardness ensues when you arrive at Logan's class on Friday, finding no one there but him.

Warnings: 18+, mindors DNI!!!!, drinking, reader getting drunk, puking, swearing, light depiction of anxiety disorder, sexual harassment (nothing bad happens to reader, light harassment only)

Word Count: 4,712

Chapter 3

This is the fourth night this week you’ve masturbated to the thought of your professor. Unfortunately, your fingers don’t offer the same release that you’ve been seeking from Logan. Instead of relieving the pressure that spreads through your body, your orgasms leave you dissatisfied and in need of more relief. But you can’t. He’s your professor, and downright terrifying to speak to. He makes every hair on your body stand on end, like your body is in a constant state of flight or fuck. Plus, you’re pretty sure he hates you. He stares at you, makes rude remarks, and barely even pays you any mind. But, goddamnit, sometimes you swear his lips curl into somewhat of a smile when he sees you. And you haven’t seen him smile at much of anything. But you cannot misconstrue tolerance with infatuation. He just might hate you less than everyone else, which could be enough for you to get through the semester without anymore anxiety than you already have.

You turn over in bed with a huff and glare at the clock. 2:14 am. If only you spent as much time studying as you did masturbating, maybe you’d get your masters a year earlier. You almost fear going to sleep. Afraid that another dream will leave you hot and bothered in Logan’s class tomorrow, and you don’t like that he has that effect on you. You repeat a mantra as you doze off, I do not want to fuck Logan Howlett.

…

It’s been a good morning. You woke up, no explicit wet dream, with enough time to manifest a Colombian dark roast and one of the best breakfasts you’ve had in a while; which you enjoyed while watching the sunrise from your roof. For a brief moment, you considered flying to class. The weather was perfect, making you long for a place you could traverse the sky in peace without a worry of who might see you. You often find yourself dreaming of such a life. How freeing would it be to fly around the world, helping people in need, exploring areas unknown? As much as you daydream of this life, you still know deep down that your dream can never become a reality. No, every day you hear of someone else being killed just because they’re a mutant. Or others disappearing off the streets and thrown into secret government labs where they conduct god knows what kinds of tests on them. That’s not a reality you ever want to face. You don’t want to think about how the government might exploit your powers. The thought of them abusing the atomic structures you manifest to create weapons of mass destruction makes you sick. No matter how desperately you wish you could display your strengths for good, you can’t. And that breaks your heart.

Despite the unfortunate stifling of your powers, your morning still ends up going just as well as it started. You’ve timed your commute perfectly; slipping into your favorite parking spot with just enough time to walk to class, Colombian dark roast in hand. You open the door to Logan’s class, quickly stopping dead in your tracks once you see that not a single one of your classmates are here yet. You check the time on your phone, there’s only 3 minutes until class starts.

“I was beginning to think it was something I said,” Logan’s voice calls from the front of the room, his broad frame leaning against the white board., “Did everyone tell ‘ya to skip?”

You chuckle softly, “No, Logan, I think it was actually something you said.” He furrows his brow, you clarify, “Wednesday when you left class you sorta said ‘see ‘ya Monday.’ So I think people just got confused.”

“Huh, and I guess you’re here…” he trails off, wanting you to explain.

“The convenience store. You said you’d see me on Friday, so, I just assumed you misspoke the other day,” you conclude, your fingers fiddling with the lid on your thermos. He just stares at you for a beat, making your anxiety swell in your throat. Is he mad at me? I think he’s mad at me, you think to yourself, “Not that you messed up or anything! It’s definitely everyone else’s fault for not following up with you, or whatever.”

“Right,” he says, giving you an incredulous look. You definitely weirded him out. The way he’s looking at you makes your breath hitch, and not in a good way.

“Anyway,” you continued, setting your coffee on a nearby desk, attempting to drive the topic of conversation elsewhere, “I might as well give you this.”

You approach Logan slowly as you rifle through your shoulder bag in search of your essay. Your fingers anxiously fumble between each folder and binder in your bag, incapable of grasping anything. You halt your approach, digging deeper in your bag to find the folder containing your essay. Jesus Christ where the hell is it. You’ve been searching for hours, has it been hours? Or 15 seconds? You cannot tell because time has halted right here. Blue folder, blue folder, blue folder, you repeat to yourself, hoping your thoughts do something to pop the folder in your face. Finally, after years of searching, you’ve found it. You pull it out of your bag with a breath of relief, stepping forward as you intend to hand it to Logan. A gasp escapes your lips when you slam straight into Logan’s tall frame, stumbling backwards, nearly falling until hands grasp your waist and keep you upright.

“You alright?” Logan asks, his hands remaining fixed on your waist. You look up at him through your long eyelashes, your hands planted flat on his chest for support.  You cannot help the fluttering in your heart at your proximity to him, feeling your arousal swirling inside you at the feel of his strong hands holding you tightly. Logan stares at you from above, breathing heavily through his nose; his sharp, repetitive inhales almost sounding like a dog sniffing the air. You struggle to form a coherent thought, the only thing flooding your senses is the smell of Tobacco and pine emanating from Logan. Only a few seconds have passed, but as far as you know time doesn’t exist anymore. Logan loosens his grip on your sides, smoothing your jacket down with his hands before letting you go. You clear your throat, trying to shake the impure thoughts that are swarming your mind.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” you exhale, handing him the folder, “Um, my essay. Here you go.”

“Right, thanks,” he smirks as he takes it from you, “Don’t suppose you want to be the only one hearing my lecture today.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you affirm eagerly, watching Logan’s smile dissipate into a pursed line. He was joking, oh my god. Kill me. “Oh! You were kidding! No, I’d much rather be home right now. Definitely do not want to be here…with you.” Your words grew quiet towards the end, unsure if your recovery was even remotely smooth at all. If you could even call that a recovery.

“Oh, so you don’t want to be here with me?” he questions, his arms crossing over his stiff chest.

“No! No, no, of course I do, you’re lovely, I mean, not—I don’t hate you is what I’m saying. You’re lovely, as far as professors go,” you stutter, a clammy layer of sweat forming on the palms of your hands. He’s silent, his eyes burning a hole into your soul. Surely, he’s mad at you, “I would so love to sit and listen to you lecture, if you want, totally up to you. I’ll be here taking notes and listening if—“

Logan calls your name with a chuckle, interjecting your ramblings and bringing them to a halt.

“I’m just messing with ‘ya, bub,” he assures with a self-satisfied smile, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You can tell he gets a lot of enjoyment out of making you uncomfortable, giving himself personal satisfaction every time you squirm under his gaze.

“Oh,” you mutter dejectedly, your face blushing red from embarrassment, “right, well, you sure got me.” You attempt a laugh to hide your anxiety. Fiddling with the strap of your bag, you try to focus on anything else than the tears of embarrassment that prick the corners of your eyes. You hate this feeling, someone making a fool of you just because of your gentle, people-pleasing demeanor. It makes you feel weak, even though you physically aren’t, but no one knows that. They just see a meek, quiet girl that they can walk all over and take advantage of.

“Shit, are you okay?” Logan asks, a surprising level of concern in his voice. His knees dip slightly, craning his neck to your level to try and meet you face to face. You keep your eyes to the ground, not wanting to embarrass yourself further by crying in front of your professor just because he teased you a little bit. You’re surprised to feel fingers grasp your chin, gasping as Logan lifts it to so you’ll meet his eyes. Tears haven’t fallen down your cheeks yet, but you’re sure you look embarrassing; flushed cheeks, watery eyes, parted lips inhaling air shallowly. Logan looks concerned, which surprises you. It seems out of character for him, considering he only speaks to cuss someone out.

“You look like you need a drink,” Logan says, not a hint of humor in his face, fully meaning this seriously and earnestly. Like it could solve all of your problems.

“I can’t drink I have class,” you whimper, slightly confused.

“Not now, later, here—you got a paper? Pen?” he asks as he drops his hold on your chin, holding his hand out while he waits for you to hand him what he’s asking for.

You nod, shuffling through your bag for a notebook and pen, retrieving it and handing it to him with a sniffle. He starts scribbling something on an empty page.

“9 o’clock,” he hands you the paper, an address is written on it, “go there, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you declined politely.

“You’re not asking me to do anything, I’m asking you,” he corrects, a firm tone in his voice making you nervous to say no. It’s almost as if he isn’t asking, merely telling you what you’re supposed to do, but disguising it as an ask to seem less brute.

“Okay, 9 o’clock,” you conclude, nodding your head in agreement.

…

What the hell are you doing here? This is inappropriate. This breaks multiple codes of conduct. But free booze? Who are you to decline an offer like that. The outside of the establishment is like any other mountain-town, backwoods, rural dive bar. It honestly wasn’t too far from where you live either, maybe you ought to give this place a visit more often. You step out of your car and approach the front door, lit with a neon red “open” sign flickering in and out of consciousness. The door jingles and creaks when you open it, causing a few of the patrons to turn their heads towards you before promptly returning back to their drinks and games of pool. The air smells of stale cigarettes and salt, rock music droning through a busted jukebox in the corner. Straight ahead, you see the bar, lit dimly by more neon signs and faulty overhead bulbs. A familiar figure is already there, Logan’s flannel-covered back is to you, hunched over what you can assume to be a drink he’s been nursing. You approach the bar-seat next to him, pulling it out with a sharp scratch to the ground, causing Logan to turn his head in your direction. Before you can even mutter a greeting, the bartender has already intercepted your attention.

“What can I get you?” he asks, scratching at his scraggly beard, a rag draped over his thin, tattooed shoulder.

“Um, Woodford and coke?” you ask as you get comfortable on your stool. The bartender laughs at your request.

“This ain’t that kind of place, missy,” he quips, you try and look at Logan for support but he’s focused on his beer, “I got Maker’s, Jim Beam, and Jack, what’ll it be?”

“Maker’s, I guess,” you concede, watching as the bartender walks down the bar to make your drink.

“Bourbon girl, eh?” Logan remarks, adjusting in his seat to face you.

“Um, yeah, I don’t like much clear liquor,” you say, trying your best to avoid eye contact, “or, it doesn’t like me at least. Some of my worst nights started with a bottle of vodka.”

Logan laughs, catching you off guard, you laugh lightly with him. The bartender sets your drink in front of you, you thank him with a smile.

“Open or closed?” the bartender asks, but before you can even think of a response, Logan answers for you.

“Put her on mine, Jim,” Logan says.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—“

Logan gives the bartender a stern look, and he walks away, no contest.

“Thank you,” you grin, taking a sip from your glass.

“Don’t mention it,” he waves off, the same warning in his voice as last time. There’s a beat of awkward silence. You’re not sure what to say, or why he even asked you here.

“I um—“ you pause, trying to find the right words, “I appreciate you going out of your way to try and make me feel better about earlier.”

“I didn’t go out of my way,” he corrects, turning back towards the bar, his body now parallel with yours, “this is usually where you can find me this time of day.”

“Oh, well, thanks for inviting me, I guess,” you correct your previous statement. You purse your lips, wanting to explain your behavior earlier. But you’re not sure if that’s appropriate, you feel bad that he had to take pity on you just because you got choked up from him making fun of you. “Look, I at least want to apologize for the way I acted earlier and—“

“Save it,” he interjects with a raise of his hand.

“I’m…sorry I—“ you stutter, trying yet again to apologize for your presence, causing Logan to cut you off with a wave of his hand again.

“You don’t need to keep doing that. Have your drink. Relax. I’m not pissed at you,” Logan reassures, his voice stern. You’re convinced that his voice doesn’t fluctuate from that kind of tone too often. But despite the sternness of his voice, you feel your shoulders relax. You’re holding his gaze but you don’t feel like you’re about to combust. You feel…fine. You feel just fine.

“Huh,” you mutter, a curious tinge to your voice. Relax. Have your drink. You ponder the glass for a moment, considering it. Fuck it. You raise it to your lips and chug, swallowing every burn the Maker’s leaves down your throat without a care. Logan’s brows raise at your sudden gratuitous impulse.

“Okay then,” he remarks with a grin.

A buzz floats around your head, your chest heaves from your uninterrupted drinking.

“Rick!” you call, attempting to get the attention of the bartender.

“Jim,” Logan corrects you quietly, smiling in amusement as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Jim! Can I have another?”

…

You’re four bourbon and coke’s into your evening, and you cannot recall the last time you had this much fun. You beat Logan twice at pool and watched him take fruity, girly shooters for each loss, per your request. Currently, you’re in the middle of another game, a tied score bringing out your competitive edge. Logan’s frame is bent over the pool table, lining up the perfect shot. You chew on the straw in your drink as you unabashedly ogle his ass. Damn, he looks good in those jeans. He makes his shot, the cue ball ricocheting off of the edge and barely skimming the 8 ball he was trying to get in.

“Damn it,” he grunts, turning away from the table, his chest rising and falling in frustration. You giggle in excitement, ready to take your turn.

“Jim! I’d get started on that lemon drop if I were you!” you call, your voice slurring slightly as you’re ready to claim your victory over your professor.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, bub,” Logan warns, clearly a bit more annoyed at the fact he’s losing than he’s letting on.

“Oh, don’t you worry about me, baby,” you counter, a teasing, almost sultry edge to your voice. Logan holds his eyes on you, watching as you bend over the pool table to make your shot. You close one eye, carefully trying to line up the cue ball in the direction you want to go. The ball is towards the center of the table, but you’re so sure that you can manage on your own, balancing on your tip-toes.

“Need a hand?” Logan asks, trying his best to hide his amusement at the precarious position you’ve put yourself in.

“Shh!” you snap, “I’m concentrating! 8 ball, corner pocket.” You make your shot, but your feet slip out from under you with the momentum you built. You almost crumble to the floor, but Logan’s hands catch you around your ribcage first. He lifts you onto your feet, but in your buzzed state you’re having a hard time maintaining balance.

“Easy there,” Logan drawls, keeping his hands so temptingly close to the side of your breasts. You’re jelly in his hands, letting him take hold of you in whatever way he wants. You could spin around and make out with him right here, which you honestly consider for a moment. But before you can, Logan leans his face close to your ear, his beard tickling your cheek.

“Looks like you scratched,” he whispers, his gravelly voice reverberating around your skull. Any other day, this would make you wet immediately, but the competitive monster inside of you is awoken. You shake your head in disbelief, turning your focus back to the pool table. There’s no sight of the white cue ball anywhere. You suddenly find your balance, scrambling out of Logan’s grasp to search for what pocket the ball got shot into. ‘Lo and behold, it made it into the corner pocket you were aiming for.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, stomping your foot in frustration, gripping the table with white knuckles.

“I told you not to get ahead of yourself,” Logan taunts, one hand planted on the pool table, the other on his hip. You scowl at him, trying to find a clever comeback, but your liquor soaked brain is coming up dry. The sound of your name turns your attention towards the bar.

“I got ‘yer lemon drop right here,” Jim calls, setting the sugar rimmed shooter on the edge of the bar closest to you.

“Get her a shot of Tito’s to wash that down with, will ‘ya, Jim?” Logan chimes, maintaining eye contact with you. Your jaw drops in shock at the deliberateness of his actions. The nerve.

“Are you trying to get me to be more sloppy just so you can beat me again?” you question, your eyes narrowing as you cross towards him. You stand just a few inches in front of him, squaring up to him with a challenging look in your eyes.

“I think you’re doing a good enough job at being sloppy by yourself,” he teases, eyeing you up and down. You roll your eyes as you brush past him and towards the bar to retrieve your punishment. Lemon drop in one hand, Tito’s in the other.

“Bottoms up,” you chime, maintaining eye contact with Logan as you lick the sugar off the rim of your glass, taking the shooter down with one swift gulp. You wince slightly, before humming in satisfaction, the sweetness masking the vodka just enough. You exhale in preparation for your next drink, closing your eyes and willing yourself to not think too hard about what you’re going to inevitably do to yourself. A single lemon drop is not enough to make you blackout and puke all over your house, but another shot of vodka on top of that might just put you on that track. Swallowing your hesitance, you bring the glass to your lips and choke it down in one gulp. Frowning at the way it burns your throat, sending tingles down your spine.

“Oh, wow,”  you grunt, your face twisted into a pained expression. “Okay, fuck you, m’gonna win this next one.”

Logan snorts at your drunken confidence, already anticipating what might happen next.

You did not, in fact, win the next one.

Logan cockily slams a shot glass of clear liquid in front of you, causing your jaw to drop in surprise.

“Thisn’t fair,” you pout, leaning against the pool table for support.

“I choked down 2 lemon drops because of you, the least you can do is take this shot of tequila, princess,” Logan counters, offering you a slice of lime and a flimsy packet of salt.

“Bitch, this’s tequila?!” you exclaim, too drunk to even comprehend the fact that he just called you princess.

“Bottoms up,” he says teasingly, pushing the glass towards you, clearly quoting you from when you were more confident earlier. “Unless you’re feeling like chickening out on me.”

“No! I jus’ don’ wan’ get too drunk before our nex’ game,” you slur, almost tripping over yourself. Logan sighs, considering your drunken state for a moment.

“Tell you what,” he starts, “I’ll do half this shot with you if you quit your whinin’, got it?” You nod eagerly, accepting his proposal. With your confirmation, Logan takes the lime in his mouth and bites it in half, giving you part of it. You secretly wish he gave you the half that was in his mouth. He rips the salt packet open, and you watch earnestly as his tongue swipe along the back of his hand before he pores some of the salt on it. You follow suit, wetting the back of your hand with your tongue and allowing Logan to pour a bit of the salt on it. Logan goes first, licking the salt up, swallowing half the shot down, and finishing it off with a bite of the lime. You try and stifle a gag when you look at the glass of clear liquid. You sigh, closing your eyes tight as you lick the salt off the back of your hand, choke down the tequila in one gulp, hoping the squirt of lime juice in your mouth will save you. It does not. Your throat burns and you involuntarily shiver at the contact of the liquor on your tastebuds.

“I’m gonna get these back to Jim,” he gestures to the stack of glasses that’s accumulated over the course of your games, “rack ‘em up for me, princess.” Logan nods to the pool balls, indicating for you to get another game started. You oblige, leaning over the table to retrieve the balls and placing them into the plastic triangle. A gasp escapes your lips when you feel a pair of hands grasp your waist. Assuming it’s Logan, you smile, craning your neck to get a view of him. You startle when you see a complete stranger pressing up against your rear. A yelp leaves your lips as you scramble up onto the table in an attempt to get away.

“Don’t be like that, baby, I was just saying hi,” the strangers gruff voice beckons to you from where your feet are hanging off the table. You scrunch your face in disgust. He has a long, unkempt beard with yellow teeth peeking out behind it. His hairline is thin and greyed, his figure broad and heavyset. He towers over you, making your stomach churn.

“No thanks,” you say, sternly, sobering up slightly in an act of self preservation. The stranger doesn’t let up, though. Still attempting to pull you towards him by grasping at your ankles. You don’t register anything else around you. Not Logan’s shouts from the other end of the bar, you don’t see him rushing towards the stranger either. Your preservation is the only thing on your mind.

“I said no, asshole!” you shout, reeling your legs back before kicking into his chest with as much force as you can muster, your abnormal strength sending him flying all the way into the back wall 10 feet away. He crashes against the wood paneling, leaving a dent in his wake, groaning and writhing in pain on the ground. Your adrenaline dissipates, allowing the realization of what you just did to really sink in. Someone of your size should not have been able to send someone like him flying in the way you did, and the way that Logan looks at you, indicates just that.

“…You okay?” Logan asks carefully, reaching towards you, helping you down off of the pool table. You tumble off the surface, allowing Logan to fully support your weight. “You, uh, seemed to have it pretty under control there.”

“I don’ skip leg day,” you slur, feeling your mouth suddenly fill with saliva, your natural instincts of self preservation just dissipated, and you now are feeling the full brunt of every sip of alcohol you had tonight. The blood drains from your face and a wave of nausea washes over you, “Logan, I think’m gonna—“

You can’t even finish your sentence before you hurl the upset of your stomach all over the floor in front of you, Logan just barely missing the line of fire.

“Shit,” Logan hisses, trying to support you as best as he can without getting your puke all over him, “Okay, let’s get you out of here before you kick someone else through a wall.”

You’d find that funny if you weren’t painfully nauseous right now. Logan slings your arm around his neck, you’re limp around him, like a rag doll. The next few hours are a blur. You’re delirious, incapable of forming a coherent thought. You might recall Logan asking for an address, or directions. But you don’t remember what you said, or if you even said anything in response through your drunken stupor. Which leads you here, hunched over the toilet in Logan’s bathroom, as he tries to shove croutons in your face in an attempt to soak up the liquor that’s strangling your stomach. You’re half awake, ready to fall over and sleep this off. So you do just that, fall over, that is. You’re snuggled into the shag rug on his bathroom floor, reveling in its softness. Oh, this is perfect. You think to yourself, dozing off already.

“C’mon, you can’t sleep on the floor,” Logan grunts, scooping you up off of the bath mat. An incoherent whine escapes your throat at your loss of comfort. You snuggle into his chest, seeking the same comfort you were just robbed of. Your body lowers onto something soft and plush. You sigh in approval, spreading your arms across the expanse of this luxuriously soft bed. Ready to get comfortable, you groan in indignance at the stuffiness of your jeans. You ungracefully unbutton and prod them down your legs, freeing your body from the stiff discomfort of the pants. You hear a throat clear, and feel the comforter get pulled out from under you and then promptly over you, cocooning you in a soft, pillowy heaven. The soft fabric feels so nice and cool against your bare legs, clad in nothing, save for your panties. You silently thank your sober self for wearing a tank top and no bra today, allowing for optimal sleepwear.

“There’s water for you here,” Logan tells you, gently, gesturing to what you think is the nightstand, but you can’t bear to look at it.

“Don’t puke on my bed,”Logan warns. The light gets turned off and you sigh at the peaceful nature of the space. You inhale, reveling in the scent of Logan that lingers on the bed.

“Hm, bed smells like you,” you hum in satisfaction, finally feeling your sleep begin to overtake you. There’s a beat of silence that hangs in the air.

“Night, princess.”

...

A/N: hehehehehehe😈😈😈😈 I hope y'all had as much fun reading the bar scene as I had writing it. I loved writing reader letting loose a bit and not being so anxious, hopefully she stays that way but you'll have to wait and see. I'm getting oral surgery tomorrow so I'm not sure when the next update will be. click here to view on ao3.

Tags: @wolviesgirl @sanemis-piss

[mamirhodessxox]

😭😭 need a fic of him just in interrupting reader while baking ( reader could be a baker and trying new recipes to add to their menu )

Cherries On Top

Cody Rhodes x Baker Fem!Reader

Desc: Y/N is trying to focus on adding new sweet treats to her bakery’s menu but her husband tends to be a distraction.

Contents: Fluff, Cody being a little annoying but in a tolerable way, SMALL indications of smut, Y/N being a lil cutie Patootie!

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Before Y/N & Cody established a relationship between them Y/N had a small little bakery filled with alll sorts of sweets & treats! Once a month she would spend an entire day whipping up pies & cakes and many other scones & sweets to add on the menu at her little bakery & do cooking youtube videos & Today was that day.

Y/N was in the middle of recording in the kitchen, Cody would walk by every now and then or stand behind her and watch over her shoulder to see what she was doing. But then he became more vocal.

She was currently working on a bourbon pound cake. “Don’t you need measuring cups for this part?” He questioned while his hand ran up and down her back while his wife shrugged “I’m just gonna add like a few shot glasses worth of bourbon.” He shot open his eyes and looked over at her camera set up and shook his head dramatically “She’s gonna get me drunk with a cake.” Since he was video bombing Y/N she decided that she would put him to a little work and start stirring the cake mix while she poured bourbon into the mix very carefully & poured him a small shot as a reward which he pridefully took

Y/N was instructing her future viewers how to carefully put the mixture into the pan & how long to leave it in the oven but Cody randomly popped back into the kitchen “Check out my gun.” She looked up as he interrupted her speech & smiled “It’s a salt shooter my dad got it for him.” “Maybe next time I make steak I can season salt onto it with my cool gun yeah?” She shook her head “No because you’re gonna break something. Just use your hands.” He glared for a second and sassily shook his head “I won’t break anything.”

6 minutes later Y/N worked on another small pastry while the cake was in the oven & suddenly the lights started flickering & she laughed a little before he walked back into camera frame “What are you whipping up now?” “Blueberry crois-“ “Hold on wait I have a quick question what did 50 cent do when he was hungry? 58.” “Your not funny.” He shrugged with a smug smile “I’m actually very funny.” She hummed nodding slowly “whatever helps you sleep at night my love.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at a bowl full of flour.

Hmmmm…….

Interesting…..

What if he just….

“CODY GARRET RUNNELS GODDAMNIT I’M GOING TO KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP!” Y/N stood there frozen as he actively poured flour over her head while letting out a mischievous laugh “uh ohh she said the full na-“ she splashed him in the face with water “well deserved.” She glared up at him & picked up her bowl filled with yet to be stirred eggs while grinning to herself as her husband backed up and raised his hands in defense “No…Y/N….” She squinted and nodded “your right that would be to messy.” She sighed while he let out a chuckle of relief but she caved & poured the eggs all over him making him gasp and look at her while she giggled & grabbed the flour bag before shaking what remained inside all over him before he turned starring at a glass of milk that sat on the counter next to one of the bowls it was supposed to be inside of.

Eventually she gave up on the video she tried making & giggled while playfully kissing her lover while he grinned biting her lip a little & grip at her waist “You sure you don’t wanna take it any furth-“ she nodded immediately and pulled away before prancing up the stairs to get clean “C’mon Codes your filthy.”

This was just the Cherry On Top for Cody, he immediately tossed away the kitchen towel & followed behind her before giving Y/N a light smack on the butt chuckling

“The shower is your best idea yet sweetheart.”

“Pervert.”

mamirhodessxox’s Masterlist

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

[Twst x ObeyMe!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 7

Again, I thank y'all for the reblogs, likes and comments guys, it really helps me :)

CW: Blue pronouns or address for MC every time they get mistaken for a guy. Also, I'm a potty mouth so MC is too.

Inhale..

Exhale....

Inhale......

Exhale.......

Inhale.........

Ex-fucking-hale.......

You're about to have a stroke right now.

You should've just went back to the goddamn infirmary instead of checking in on these obnoxious, bitch-less, probably father-less, motherfuckers.

It's just cleaning windows!! How the hell can you mess up like this?! Why the fuck did the cafeteria chandelier get involved??

GODDAMNIT!! WHY IS YUU INVOLVED AS WELL?! AHHHH—!

*One eternity of screaming like a banshee later*

After sending those damn kids and cat away to get some sort of magical stone in some godforsaken mine, you wrangled with the headmaster for at least two hours to prevent him from writing up the expulsion papers of Yuu and that Blue-haired kid who was mostly innocent about the ordeal.

(Meanwhile, encouraging him to kick that Ace kid and the damn cat off the school. You ain't about to let audacity run free rn, mostly because you feel yourself start genuinely tweaking as you almost got possessed by the urge to sucker punch someone's soul out of their body.)

[Satan perked up, there it was again.

That distinctive spark of wrath that he can feel through your pact with him is both concerning and comforting.

On one hand, the anger he feels means that you're alive. And seeing that what he's feeling through the pact is mostly annoyance, then that must mean that nothing marginally bad or traumatizing had happened to you yet.

You're actually more pissed off in a 'someone-had-the-audacity-to-eat-my-snacks' kind of way more than anything else, meaning that you're safe for now.

But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long that temporary safety will last.

There's also the fact this is the fourth time he'd felt that spark of 'I-wanna-punt-someone-into-the-fuckin-sun' kind of anger from you, which is worrying because it hasn't even been 48 hours since you were kidnapped by some mf.

He shook his head, calling upon a subordinate (read: Devoted fan) to collect more and more books to learn what type of teleportation and sleeping magic was used in your kidnapping.

With the massive search party spanning all three realms that they'd called upon, they will find you sooner or later.

And once they do...

Well... You'll need to get used to being with someone at all hours of the day.]

*Passive-aggresively reminding Crowley that he can't kick out an innocent kid for something they didn't directly do as they had no way of stopping the events that transpired.*

["You don't want the word to get out that you let an innocent teen roam around in a foreign world with absolutely nothing to their name and nobody to protect them, right?"

"That is true, but I still can't just let this go unpunis–"

"Especially when it's the school's faulty equipment that took them so far away from all of their loved ones and belongings, right?"]

Needless to say, Yuu ended up being "fired" in the end, quite an unfortunate result because they will need to freeload off of you until the end of your stay in this world. (Poor them, they got fired before they knew that they had a job in the first place.)

Oh well, it's better than being kicked out from practically their only way back home right now...

Hays... That cruel crow..

Anygays, it's time to snoop around and hopefully make some connections to the residents of this school.

This is a well-known college, right? So there should be influential people here somewhere...

Hehe.. It's time you bring out your gaslight, gatekeep, gold-digging skills so that you can girlboss your way into stability inside this foreign world.

• • • • • •

Suddenly, more than a dozen individuals felt a strong shiver run up their spines.

Haha... Well that's ominous!

• • • • • •

Ortho deadpanned at his brother.

It seems that almost burning down their dorm room last night isn't enough to deter him from making his [Mr. L/n x reader] fanfiction complete with mandatory fan art for every single chapter.

Haaa....

But at least his brother isn't 'fanboying' about another fictional character again...

Hm... Now that he thinks about it..

Maybe his brother will be more inclined to make friends if it's Mr. L/n!

And thus begins Ortho's journey of being an unknowing wingman as he tries to get his introverted brother to make friends.

• • • • • •

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at the small gift on top of your temporary bed in the infirmary.

Dats suspicious....

Dats weird......

You turn your necklace into a staff and start poking the box, trying to see if it'll suddenly turn into a horrific eldritch monster and jump you. (Won't be the first time that happened.)

• • • • •

"It is done, ××× ×× ××××××" (This is too easy to guess😑)

• • • • •

Diavolo sighed for the tenth time that hour, lamenting how trying to focus on his paperwork is a really hard task when MC gets thrown into the situation.

'Maybe a small break will help clear my head?'

He might as well just go out for a walk in the garden to get some fresh... air...

Oh? what is this?

His eyes scanned the dark envelope he'd seen wedged under the 'To burn' stack of paperwork in his desk.

This envelope wasn't here yesterday...

After confirming that the piece of paper wasn't cursed or charmed, he opened it with apprehension.

...!

This..!

• • • • •

Barbatos appeared in the office, tense as he'd heard his lord call out his name with haste.

Reading the letter shoved in front of his face by the serious Diavolo, Barbatos made a mental note to get the dungeon chambers ready.

They've got themselves a lead.

← Pr.6 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.1 →

Just tell me if y'all wanna get added in the permanent taglist, even if I already tagged y'all here.

That's just so I'll know if you wanna get tagged in all the upcoming chapters of this fanfic.

@caprinaesprout

@iameliseposts

@leviathans-tail-scales

@twst-om-lover

@a-traveling-void-human

Reblog or I'll take your ankles😈 (Pls like and reblog, it really gives me motivation🥺)

Also, the next chap is the start of Arc 1: Satan but short.

[leviathanspain]

don’t let me go

carmy berzatto x reader

synopsis: you had hoped he would never know, but what was carmy if not complicated

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

carmen had been ignoring you all day. it wasn’t like him, but you also never cared before. but that was before, and this was now.

you wiped your brow with the back of your hand, the spatula in the sauce still moving at a furious pace. you looked over at sydney, glancing at what she was doing before you tried to call her over. “yo syd..” you waved a hand over and pointed to your sauce, “try it. let me know what you think.” you stepped back to lean on the counter behind you. sydney smiled slightly as she stepped up to the plate, bringing the spatula up, she let her finger swipe just slightly off the top, before tasting it.

her eyes lit up as she nodded, “holy shit.” she looked at you, “that’s really good- oh my god. what is that?” she looked down at the sauce, and you laughed, “just some-“

“carm’s gotta try this.” sydney glanced back at you before picking up the spatula, “where is he?” she looked at you but didn’t even bother for an answer as she walked around the kitchen.

“syd- maybe it’s not a good idea, yknow carm-“ you tried to explain why it really wasn’t a good idea, but the girl had already started running off with your sauce, getting the rest of the kitchen to taste it.

tina had given her nod of approval, though she avoided your eye. richie had refused to try it, and even if you hadn’t planned for anyone to try it beside syd, you still slipped him a ‘fuck you’.

carmy had been in the office, staring at the mountain of paper work when he looked up, seeing sydney in the doorway with a pot, and you, not even looking at him but hanging around behind sydney. he raised his eyebrows, “what?”

“y/n made this amazing sauce, everyone’s loved it, and you should really try it-“ sydney brought the pot close to him but carm shook his head, “i’m good, i’m good.” his response created disbelief in sydney’s face, but you wanted to scream ‘i told you so’ to the girl. god you wanted to slap him, and you wanted to slap him good.

sydney and carm exchanged a private couple of words until sydney looked at you sympathetically. she took your sauce and you stood there, seeing just carmy’s arm as he moved around in the office.

taking a good breath in, you walked into the office, slamming the door behind you.

“ignoring me is one thing, but refusing my food is another thing.” you stared at him, but carmen instead stared at the wall. silence met your words and you inhaled, “goddamnit! stop being like this, for fuck sakes carmen, it was one time! one really fucked up time.” you threw your hands up, running them over your hair.

carmy stood up suddenly, the sound of his chair being thrown back into his desk met your ears, and you blinked, “you should’ve told me.” he looked at you, “you should’ve been the one to tell me. not tina, not richie, no one.” carmy looked at you and for once, the look in those big blue eyes was something more.

you sniffled, feeling your face get hot at the confrontation. you hadn’t expected it to go like this, but it was carmy, and things didn’t always go as expected.

you shrugged, “what do you want me to say? apologize? i don’t have to because this,” you pointed between you two, “is nothing. we are nothing but coworkers, carm, you’re the one-“

carmy shook his head, “no- this isn’t about that-“

“then what is it about? what else could me sleeping with your brother be? it was one time, carmy.” you kept repeating it, but the words were beginning to lose their meaning. carmen was frustrated, and it was building up in this tiny room.

he laughed, almost like he couldn’t believe it. “fuck this.” he grabbed at the door handle but you threw yourself against the door, “we’re not done. and i refuse to have those assholes hear any of this.” you paused, staring at the floor, “i didn’t know you then, carm. all i knew was that mikey had a kid brother who was this award winning chef. then,” you shrugged, “that award winning chef suddenly became my boss. and my boss became something more.”

carmy was looking at the ground, as if afraid to face the truth.

“carm-“ you called his attention, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “carm. fuck, carmy,” you wiped them away but you couldn’t control the sob that escaped your lips. it was loud, a guttural noise that left you wondering if you had even made it.

carmen looked up, and saw you, red faced and teary eyed, “fucking hold me, carmen.” you demanded, and immediately felt his arms wrap themselves around you.

you let your hands tie at his waist, feeling the cotton material of his ridiculously expensive white shirt, a remnant of the life he had lived in new york.

carmy held you for a while, even tried to let go once but you had yelled at him, “don’t let me go.” the words felt gritty, but so did most things. carmen was most things, whatever it was between you was as electric as it was complicated. you both ignited a drive in the other that normally would’ve caused disfunction between normal people, but you two were different.

except moments like these. moments of true emotion that left you wondering if you weren’t different, if you two were superficial in your hate and anger, and if you truly despised the other.

you heard him mutter your name, “y/n..” you looked up, and carmen kissed you suddenly, a quick kiss that you hadn’t had time to blink, “finish your fucking sauce,” he breathed into your lips. you pulled away, inhaling and fixed your apron, “yes, chef.” carmy crossed his arms, “and get started on those potatoes. i don’t wanna see some mashed up shit anymore, get it right.”

“yes, chef.”

[malleusthehammer]

Helloooo (●’◡’●)ﾉ could I please request Buddha, Adam, Sasaki and Leonidas with a preteen reader (12 years old) that likes to prank the gods all the time? Like putting a whoopee cushion under Shivas or Thor seats, drawing on anyone's face if they even think about taking a nap when reader is around, only small things that can't really hurt people, and no one can stop them because reader can just teleport away or make a clone of themselves, they prank everyone but them (the characters I requested) and when they're asked why reader just says “their likeable enough” I feel like this would be so chaotic and in a way wholesome 😭

YES OM GI I LOVE THIS IUDE S< ITS SO CUTRE!!! Also i am SO SO SO sorry for the wait!! Also its platonic considering that the reader is 12 years old so-

Pranking with Buddha, Adam, Sasaki, and Leonidas! Warnings: Yelling? Type: Headcanons and drabble!

🍬 Buddha

Dude he LOVES pranking with you!!

I mean, how could he not?

He does blow your cover a LOT because of his loud laugh

He usually takes the heat from the other gods that are being pranked because hes just like that

He thinks its so cool that you can just make a clone of yourself!

You were sneaky, sneaky enough to get past all of Shivas wives that is. When you passed by them on occasion, they treated you like a child of their own. Showering you in gifts and hugs! But- that was besides the point, yes? Buddha had finally convinced you to do that shaving cream prank on the god of destruction. So, you both snuck into the gods room, silent as a mouse. Buddha promised you a handful of candy from his stash if you pulled this off. you knew this was going to be easy-peasy! Maybe so easy and flawless youd get two handfuls of candy!

You silently -or rather, as best you could- sprayed the shaving cream in Shivas hands. His sleeping positions were erratic, so you made sure to cover all four hands in the cream before pulling out the feather you had. Your devious acts had led up to Munin loosing one of his tail feathers, you kept it. Almost like a trophy. You handed the feather to Buddha, who looked like he was about to explode with laughter any moment. Somehow, he kept his cool, tickling Shivas nose with the feather.

The 4-armed god stirred, to then slam a handful of shaving cream in his face. He was quick to wake up, trying to look around, omly to get more shaving cream everywhere.

"GODDAMNIT [Y/N]!!"

His voice rumbled in the room, his arm lunging towards you. You knew this would happen, so you were quick to make a clone to stand. Once Shivas palm hit the clone, it puffed into dust. This caused the God to get even madder. But what made it all worse was Buddha dying of laughter in the corner.

🍎 Adam

At first hes like "How do you find this hilarious?!?"

But then, you pranked Zeus..

and this opened his eyes for REAL

You had tried your best to come up with a prank for the old god Zeus, but nothing would stir in your mind. Eventually, you fell back to your roots of scaring. You hid behind the door of the Gods lounge, knowing the old man would be coming in soon. Once you had heard his distinguishing laugh, your plan was set into motion. You waited till just the right moment to pop out from behind the door. Unfortunately, you weren't far enough away from the door.

Zeus reacted by swinging his arms out in defense, causing the door to slam right back into you. The knob of the door went straight into your stomach, causing you to hit your head hard against the marble wall. You quickly fell to your knees in pain, hearing the old man guffaw and laugh about how you shouldn't scare him like that. You had learned your lesson, not to return to your roots.

You shamefully walked down the grand halls of Valhalla, coming to the garden. Adam saw you, hurrying over to see what was wrong. He was quick to help you, laying you down in the grass as he held an icepack to your head. You both laughed about what happened til Adam broke the silence.

"Little one- why dont you pull pranks like that on me? You do it on all the others.. Are you plotting a big prank on me?"

You giggled and shook your head, explaining how he was like a dad to you. And of course, who would prank their dad?

⚔️Sasaki Kojiro

He's never there to watch you prank but he loves hearing you tell the stories afterwards

You had managed to prank Aphrodite with a couple fake spiders, causing her to scream and sling her food off the table. Her hench men tried to calm her down by showing her that they were face spiders. But that only made it worse. She was running from them, hiding in her own room. You had watched this entirely, trying so hard not to laugh your ass off. After everyone calmed down, you were quick to go find Sasaki.

He was were he usually was, against the fountain in Valhalla's garden. You were quick to run up to him, sitting right down next to him. You both laughed and talked as you blabbered on about your prank. He started busting out laughing when you even reenacted how Aphrodite reacted! After you both calmed down from your laughing fits, you sat back down next to him on the edge of the fountain. Sasaki knew how much you loved pulling pranks on the others in Valhalla. Sometimes even more that Loki himself! Sasaki couldn't help but ask why you didn't pull pranks on him.

"Ahaha- ah.. Now, this makes me wanna ask ya.. Why don't cha pull pranks on me?''

You sat there for a moment. Why didn't you? Well of course you wouldn't pull a prank on someone you care about so dearly! Sasaki was shocked by your answer at first, but was so happy you cared so deary about him!

🛡️ Leonidas

He usually takes the downfall for your pranks because :3

helps you get the supplies and everything!!

lets you hide behind him bc he lowkey scary

Unlike the others, he is always backing you up on the pranks. He's always encouraging you. He's gonna have you writing prank ideas down on a notepad he comes up with ideas so quick. Today, you and him were walking down the halls of Valhalla. He held his cigar between his two fingers as he talked on and on about some pranks he pulled in his younger years. You followed behind closely, furiously writing the ideas down on your notepad. Leonidas chuckled as he saw you writing stuff down as you both walked. He huffed on his cigar for a moment before a thought popped up in his mind.

"Hey kid, why don't cha pull pranks on this old man?"

He smiled and pointed to himself with his thumb. He raised a brow at you for a moment, waiting for your reply.

You sat there, dumbfounded. You really hadn't thought about it.

"I guess- cuz your like the prank master! Like my mentor!"

Leonidas' eyes widened for a second as he thought about what you said. His smile grew as he wrapped his large arm around you. He laughed as he ruffled your hand with his large hand.

"Ahaha! I knew you looked up to me, but not that much! Thank ya, kid!"

YOOOOO HGHJUYGBHJ DIES honestly this was my first time writing for Leonidas and i LOVE HIM SM hes so silly!! also i kinda got carried away with Buddhas so i hope you forgive me for that. BUt i truly hope you enjoyed it!! alsi my asks are open!!

[ineedtherapydesperately]

I'M BACK ON MY SONG FIC PROMPT THINGO BULLSHIT 🫶

dear theodosia ella thoughts inspired by the idea @strugglingsapphic added to my crack hamilton post :D

the theodosia part is dedicated to chloe purely so ella sings "loOK aT mY sON" at chad. this is canon and I don't make the rules. ( @bigmilk-13 please make it a presidential decree or smth)

*father's name

but like ughhh chloe is ella's BABY, her little pumpkin, and ella will do ANYTHING to keep her from witnessing the horrors of the real world. every time chloe cries, ella can feel her heart break a little more. she'll make sure that her little chloe NEVER has to want for anything, that she NEVER has to experience the way ella grew up. and if chloe ends up a little too spoiled, a little too opinionated, well, that's okay—as long as she doesn't have to face a dark and lonely and cold world. as long as she has people around her who love her for who she is, who support her and who would never abandon her.

ella does it for chloe, maybe a little bit for herself, but also for bridget—bridget, her once bright star and first love, the one who grew cold and callous and jaded because she was betrayed one too many times, and it's all ella's fault goddamnit. but she can't change the past, so she'll make sure that history isn't repeated through her daughter. for bridget.

domestic life really never was ella's style, not with the way she grew up. she hates it, hates the false pretense of 'family', she hates the pain, the terror and the utter helplessness she was made to suffer through daily. but for chad, for chloe, ella is willing to put her reservations aside. she's willing to be as domestic as it gets, to be the mother she never had. and, well, if her thoughts sometimes stray to a younger bridget, crying in ella's arms after another harsh few days spent with the queen of hearts, well, nobody needs to know. but know this. ella vows to be a better mother than the ones she saw growing up.

and god, whenever ella sees chloe smile?? she falls apart, overwhelmed by the love and protectiveness she feels. this is who she's fighting for, this is who she's protecting from the world. this is her little girl, her baby, and she will always fight to protect that smile. ella thinks back on her younger self, so determined to avoid domesticity and family and commitment. she was so stupid, back then. she won't make the same mistakes again. she can't make the same mistakes again.

ella and chad feels 🫶

this is ella's firstborn, her first attempt at breaking the cycle. chad is ella's everything, her little prince, her baby boy. every time she looks at him, she can only feel an immense surge of pride—something stronger than pride, even. he's so charming, that chad, even as just a mere baby. every smile, every giggle, undoes ella and she's so, so enchanted with her baby.

she's going to give him everything she possibly can, all the opportunities she missed out on growing up. the friends, the food, the money, the material goods—anything and everything. chad will NEVER be left wanting for anything, he'll always be warm and well fed and have a place to sleep. ella vows this. and if he ends up growing up a bit too spoiled, like all the royalty she hated back in the merlin academy? ella ignores it, because he deserves the chance to just be normal and have a normal childhood, without the pressure of anything else. because chad is the crown prince, and ella has seen first hand what that pressure can do to someone. ella has seen just what happens when someone succumbs it, and she has seen the ramifications of not having someone to lean on when it happens. so ella makes sure that chad has a strong support system, because this is her damn son and she's going to make sure that history never repeats itself again.

daddy issues!! (no but fr a few days ago I very loudly whispered 'daddy issues' during the part in hamilton when he says 'don't call me son!' the silence was palpable and I'm still embarrassed bc it wasn't supposed to come out that loudly)

but wow, look at ella go, breaking the cycle once again! she'll always be there for her babies, because she grew up lost, with an absent father who was never there when she needed him the most. ella refuses to let this be reality for her children, and if she has to break into the council room to steal christopher from the meeting so that he can say goodnight to their babies and tuck them into bed with her, she fucking will. the council is used to it by now, and are no longer offended—it's hard to be, when christopher drops his charming demeanour and threatens the first and last person to complain about ella, at sword point. he leaves a small, barely noticeable but definitely present scar as a reminder.

and sometimes ella sits in on those very meetings as well, because she's determined to change the very foundation of cinderellasburg, to keep her children safe, to make sure that nobody else ever has to grow up like she did. and the council doesn't protest, which probably has nothing to do with the way christopher casually twirls a dagger between his fingers, eyeing each and every one of them with a pleasant smile and a threatening gleam in his eyes. and ella can't help but feel a bit bittersweet, because finally, she's changing the system, the way she and bridget had always dreamt about back in the merlin academy. but there is no bridget by her side, not anymore. and ella can't blame her for that.

chad and chloe are the new blood, the next generation. the united states of auradon has been around only slightly longer than they've been alive—it's literally a new nation, and they're the future leaders. ella will make sure that she hands down a good kingdom to them, and if she has to bleed for it, she doesn't care. if she has to die for it, so be it. cinderellasburg will uphold it's damn morals and convictions, even if it's the last thing she ever does. because her children, her little prince and her little pumpkin, deserve nothing less. she raises them to be good people, to have strong morals, to always, always, do good.

which is why ella refuses to kneel. she holds her head high, and accepts the face of death, staring the consequences of her mistakes and inaction in the eyes, and she does it for her children. for chad and chloe. for chloe and chad.

this accidentally turned too angsty but I just had to slip in some bridgella oops 🎀 doomed wlw you have my heart

this has been marinating in my drafts for several days now I have so many songs in my drafts but none of them are comprehensible so. they might get released in the future who knows

edit bc i forgot auradon prep didn't exist yet :D if you came from a repost mb g

[drinkpisser]

MY HESITANT ALIEN FIC, HOW IT CAME TO BE CHAPTER 1 IS FINALLY DONE!!

(I thinkk!)

thank you to anyone who has been waiting, I really hope you enjoy! :D 🫶 it's been great to make

PREVIOUS CHAPTER (the prologue) :

----------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 1: THE BUREAU

Like he had mentioned, it was the average summer night, albeit slightly chilly. Gerard had not long settled into the summer camp similar to the other teens who had wandered the woods all day. Even so, he found it difficult to relate to them. His dyed black hair was short and shiny from the humidity of the car ride there, though the streaks of red gleamed nicely in the sun- his eyes were sunken, glued to a drawing pad or species of insect that he would clutch into his hands and inspect, and he found it detrimental to attempt mingling beyond his limited social battery level. He simply wasn't ready to engage in interaction with an unfamiliar face, and I'd say that's pretty understandable. He found it reasonable to head to his dorm early, briefly skittering past the other kids and finding comfort within the spring mattress of the bunkbed.

With a sigh, he pulls out a rented comic book he had stashed beneath his pillow. A classic Batman issue, to be precise. As his eyes fluttered from one panel to the other, they grew heavier and heavier- eventually, he had wandered into the land of dreams (with a cameo of laser beams and men in spandex) shockingly early, substituting his stuffed animal at home for a comic book.

Not too long later, murmurs and tiptaps of tired campgoers slid past Gerard's unconscious mind, leaving him in little less of a deep sleep. Goddamnit, he just couldn't get back to it after that. Tossing and turning, time passed slowly. Toss. Nevermind, turn. Toss again. Turn.

What's the use, he thought, before laying still in defeat. Unfortunately, a short while passes by, and Gerard's eyes are still straining shut, unrelaxed.

All of a sudden, a warm, unwarranted apricity fell upon his face. His eyes blink awake in confusion, squinting at the brightness of the mystery orb in the sky. Everyone is asleep. He sits up, with slight haste and panic- how is nobody concerned about this?

A polite whisper of "What the fuck is this?" leaves Gerard's mouth, what a strange prank to pull if it is one, he thought. Of course, like any other naive teenager would, he swiftly leaves the dorms to check it out.

Outside, it's extremely windy; Gerard wished he had brought his blanket with him- rather instead he retrieved a long, wooden stick he found rested against the doorframe (for self defense) like it'll do much against a giant mothership. His messy hair is now messier, the small fringe he once had brushing rapidly left to right in the breeze. As he cautiously strolled past the shelter of safety, he took a deep and dry swallow to build up the already dissolved courage within him. If you asked him, he'd say isn't scared at all, he's had traumatic nightmares worse than this. In other words, he'd be lying through his teeth. It's the middle of the night in a forest, the most intimidating concept ever for a young and vulnerable person. Every step impersonates a cracking eggshell, every blink or twitch of a muscle echoes like a gunshot. Crows flock in an alarmed state, frogs and rats huddle together under drip-tip leaves. Foxes flee in unison with the hedgehogs they were chasing.

Why on earth did he think this was a logical idea? It's a catastrophic idea- which means he's still going to go through with it. Determined, even with shakily numb legs. Thankfully, by now, the occurrence that woke him up is in full view so he can save himself the trouble. He ends up resting against a wooden fence, pausing, gazing in awe at what was above him.

Graphic gleams illuminate the dull night in all colours beyond imagination, sourced from an outstanding construction of metal balanced in the night sky. Almost akin to if they invented a portable northern lights kit that can be used anywhere, it spun slowly, as though it was scanning the strange organism that was staring upon it. The lights from the sides of the cockpit shut off without warning. Sliding doors beneath the ship clang open, sending small sparks flying into the stars.

Red.

It's all red. A red light, aimed directly at Gerard's exposed forehead. It warped the grass to a strange brunette, the buildings to a maroon and the fence he was leaning on to a crimson. An ambiguous voice within that colour told Gerard all he needed to know- run. Get the fuck out of there! The last thing he needed on any historical record of his was "kidnapped by a strange vehicle", and it's sure to be impossible to explain to his parents or the police, so he'd best act quickly!

That he did. Running as quick as his body could take him, wary of hazardous rocks and tree stumps that could screw him over. As predicted, the machine begun chasing. It didn't appear to be hostile- shooting or sending out traps that could catch him, it just.. chased. Gerard looks back, pathetically lunging the wooden stick at the fortified metal. The machine looks behind itself in confusion and unphased, leaving Gerard puzzled. Did it even know what was going on? Was it just playing copycat to toy with him?

Nonetheless, he continues to sprint more than he ever had planned to at this stay. Absolutely terrifying.

SPLASH!!

Brilliant, just great! He's gone and fell in a swampy puddle, grazing his knees on sharp ground. His hands sting, but he endures, forcing himself to ignore the hisses of agony as he gets back up. Limping like a champion, he struggles his way into a nearby porta potty. Not the most hygienic or convenient but this is a pretty rational situation to be complaining.

Once he was inside, he realised there isn't much at all he can do to improve his pain. He grabs the half used, thin toilet paper and wraps it around his wounds, begging his senses to blind him from the putrid smell of the enclosure he's settling in. Petrified of leaving, he crafts a makeshift blanket out of his comfort hoodie, placing his pins and badges to the side. Because he is wearing shorts, he resorts to a foetal position to successfully contain the warmth of the hoodie blanket, also creating a third useful tool of a gas mask with the hood itself. He looks ridiculous. He surely feels it. Yet exhaustion had hit him like a pile of bricks; he soon falls back to his state of slumber in here. In a summer camp bathroom. Wrong. It's worse than that, a porta potty with barely any space.  The interview from the prologue was right- you really couldn't make this shit up.

The next morning flows by perfectly. Birds sing a harmony, everyone is well rested. The ideal summers day, unless you're the nerd snoozing away in the trashy, unused camp toilet. The door is about to be unlocked by a relatively unhappy janitor who is definitely not paid enough for this... Dare I say, shit?

The door cracks open with a thud, hitting a filthy Gerard on the side.

"Oh, what, the door's jammed again?" The janitor complains before seeing the adolescent. His wrinkly eyes tweak, and he holds back several cuss words in surprise.

"Get up. Come on," he snaps, dragging Gerard out by the arm. Groaning, he shoves the cleaner away and composes himself.

"Look, I can explain- I was being chased by some spaceship! It was seriously a fuckin' mess. I'm covered in cuts from it- see?!" Gerard then shows him his battle scars from that mighty fall he took.

"Yeah, well, alcohol isn't allowed here. Being chased by aliens isn't a solid alibi either. Trust me, I tried it," The janitor snarls nonchalantly, sighing, "just get back to campus and clean up."

He shuts the porta potty door. Damn, he must be responsible for that tragic leftover shit-stench.

Gerard frowns. This, he did not consider. Going back to everyone- the people he'd barely even brushed past, without introducing himself the way he wanted. Now they're all going to know him for sure. Probably call him stupid names, humiliate him and such.

However, if it wasn't for who emerged next, he could have cried a river.

A chirpy, curious voice.

"Dude, I don't mean to embarrass you but did you get lost in the sewers?" the voice chuckles.

Letting out a small shriek, Gerard turns around.

An approachable looking young man stood before him, shuffling his feet with a sense of innate awkwardness. The boy was surprisingly tall for his age, and had the most wonderful curly locks of hair Gerard had ever seen. Somehow he knew by the shirt he was wearing that they'd hit it off straight away. Any sense of shame Gerard had dissipated, as the subject of music is one he exceeds in. Maybe this was his perfect chance to finally befriend somebody here!

"Holy shit," Gerard smiles, "The Smashing Pumpkins? I love their music, man."

"Ah, so we aren't gonna adress my question? Alright! Yeah, I listen to them a lot. I know a few songs on guitar too." He replies, impressed.

"My name is Ray. Weird circumstance, but you're pretty neat and... certainly interesting! Wanna be friends?"

Bingo, that was easy. Gerard almost exploded in excitement that his band tactic worked, but he resorted to a chilled nod and kick of a pebble.

"Yeah, sounds cool. Name's Gerard...

Uh, I would explain why I'm covered in mud and probably shit too but I don't wanna be accused of drinking by somebody I barely know again..." he mumbles.

"It's fine- I know a way we can get to the showers without passing anybody. Then I'm so down to hear all about this!" Ray chuckles ecstatically  before wandering off.

"I suppose i have no choice but to follow, or else my ass'll get kicked by that janitor." Reluctantly, Gerard trails behind his new buddy, sneaking past anything that looked like a person or member of staff (not to say they arent people or anything, they're just a hindrance at this certain moment in time).

"At least I can get a laugh outta this in a few years," he monologues to himself whilst hiding behind a tree.

Ray slowly turns, confused both as to whether he was being spoken to or not and the fact this douche is pretending to be a tree.

"Yeah.." He smiles, unable to conceal a short burst of laughter.

They continue on their miniature voyage, finally making it to the shower room unscathed. The two wave a slightly uncomfortable goodbye, and Ray takes a seat outside, twiddling his thumbs.

A short while later, Gerard walks out, thankfully no longer covered in mud. He smiles, greeting Ray once again.

"Thanks for waiting," he says, holding his clean hand out for a handshake. Ray, with the reassurance that there is no more mud, shakes it.

"No problem, you wanna head to camp? I'm pretty sure it's lunchtime."

"Sounds like a plan." Gerard adjusts the geeky pins on his hoodie, making his way to the benches.

At the benches, there sits a group of four. Gerard avoids direct contact with their faces at first, in the dire case that he's only there for a small punchline. Ray introduces them all, but the names don't stick. Nerves have struck Gerard's mind like a vigorous thunder, preventing him from paying his most full attention. Nodding does the trick, so he just went along with it. After sitting and shuffling, attention once again falls to Gerard through a demanding whisper in the ear.

"What happened to you, then?" Ray enquires.

"No judgement, alright? I can barely get my own head around it," Gee releases an intense sigh. It seemed to go quiet, or was it just his imagination?

"I was chased by strange figures in a giant ship looking thing. It was beautiful at first until I thought I was going to die. It seemed to be after me specifically, and I almost fell right into it's trap whilst everybody else was fast asleep."

Ray's expression dropped like an astounded cat. Maybe Gerard had forgotten to use his indoor voice due to the exterior surroundings of the forest, but the whole table had suddenly earwigged. Silence had truly struck this time. A brief calm before the storm, so to speak.

Laughter invades the air like poison in an airvent. The barricades of comfort were banished and giggles screeched like nails on a chalkboard. Shame for ever saying a single word ever dawned on Gerard with a pile of regret.

"This dude's nuts!" a preppy girl whines.

"Whatever he's on, I want it.." a curtain-banged boy adds.

"Why'd you bring this freak here?" some jerkwad adds.

"Hey now, come on- he's just got here! If it wasn't aliens, it was surely something." Ray defends, but it's futile.

Its settled. He's done for. Gerard's done for. He knows full well, ducking down in silence. Just like he had worried, it isn't working. He's alone at this place, and not in the preferred introverted way he'd wished.

He could die here alone.

He could die alone point blank.

That being recognised, he grabs his satchel teary-eyed and rushes off. Being accused of lying when all you speak is truth crucially damages your self assurance, your fragile confidence, your efficacy as a living, breathing person. Usually it wouldn't phase Gerard at all, but salt had definitely been rubbed into those vunerable wounds. I mean, without a doubt it's a phenomenal story to tell to a stranger. Chased by aliens and all that junk. Yet what a laughing stock he'd become in his vacant mind, weeping his heart out behind the main office he fled and hid behind.

He wanted to go home, back to his younger brother and cluttered bedroom. Back to the dainty hallway filled with shelves of vintage dolls and trinkets. Back to his drawing desk and flickering lamp. Day one and he was already through with it all. He'd rather not get out at all than suffer another minute pretending he's enjoying himself in the cruel wilderness.

Without warning, the overwhelming stream of thoughts cut off with that same chirpy voice, however this time it approached gently.

"Thank god I found you, really. I didn't mean for all that to happen-" he's soon interrupted the blinded humiliation of Gerard's anger.

"Screw that! It was your plan all along to put me in the social shit. You just wanted me to look decent whilst you did it! They clearly ain't impressed by you on your own so the nearest idiot you found made the cut! I get it! Rub it in some more." He scrapes words through tears so warm that they're steaming, almost not completely aware of what he's spewing.

Ray's pleading face grows in distress; it's true that the people he'd lingered with weren't the most welcoming of friends. He'd just happened to have met them during a group activity and thought they we're right for him. He was never in their group, he was just with their group. In that moment, he was willing to sacrifice them all for someone he'd not long met after seeing an unusual spark in his eyes that they didn't posess.  Aware of the room that needed to be read, he sits a fair distance from Gerard, quiet.

A few minutes pass by consisting of Gee huddled up within himself and Ray staring with guilt.

Forcing out his voice once more, Ray apologises.

"I've needed that lecture for a while, really. They're full of shit. I honestly just wanted to help you out- I thought they'd find you cool just like I did, you like similar stuff to them-" Ray rambles and trips on his words, desperate for an understanding response.

Fortunately, Gerard had calmed enough to not verbally vomit every thought in his brain this time.

"... I know," he reassures, "I just didn't wanna mess this up, yknow. The reason why I was brought here by my parents was so I could experience more things and a big part of that was a need to be liked," loathing away at himself, Ray listens and "mhms" until he can barely restrain his words any longer...

"I believe you."

"What?" Gerard's head perks up in disbelief.

"We don't need them to either, if more than one person believes then it's credible. Something in space is out there and you we're lucky enough to discover it, Gerard!" Ray forms a contagious smile as he speaks, erupting excitement as he does.

"I suppose.." a glum smirk passes Gerard's face, quickly turning to a grin. "Alright."

The two stand together and hug it out, walking back from the secluded area at the same pace, yapping all the time away whilst skipping day classes.

The afternoon quickly fades to the evening, the sunset tainting the busy perimeter with a sense of euphoria. All throughout that time, Gerard couldn't help but participate in small ventures of the camp activites with slight eagerness, collecting logs and sticks for the bonfire at the highest speed he could maneuver. As the fire erupted, he watched the flames dance with fascination. Being a self proclaimed pyromaniac and all, it helped him relax.

Even with a time of turmoil ahead, a deep puzzle within him had been solved, a message he needed to hear ever since the trainwreck of last night slammed its breaks.

That somebody believed in him.

[ end of chapter 1 ! ]

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith thinks he might actually sink into his bed, that’s how goddamn tired he is.

It’s just been — such a long day. Painfully long. Keith thought dragging his brother out of Black’s astral plane would make things less stressful, but nooooo. Of course not. That would be too easy. Of course Shiro decides he doesn’t want the Black Paladin title back, and that, actually, he’d like to retire. Of course Keith can in no way find it within himself to force his brother, who only ever wanted to explore, back into the crushing expectations of the leader of the universe’s strongest weapon.

So. It’s just — a lot.

There weren’t even any missions today. Honestly, Keith prefers mission days — they’re a one-and-done kind of deal. You fly into battle, you think you’re gonna die, you panic about your friends dying, usually no one dies, you either complete the mission or you don’t, you go home. Of course there’s the soul crushing terror and overuse of energy that comes at the price of actual genuine years off his life, but that’s so clearly a Future Keith problem. Once Keith parks Black into the hangar he can Stop Thinking About it, except of course for the horrifying and endless nightmares.

But all this planning shit is horrendous.

First of all, Keith is an action guy. An investigation guy too, sometimes, if there is conspiracy involved (and/or some fuckass has challenged him in any way no matter how minuscule), but what he is not is a tactician guy. A planning guy. That kind of shit is for people who have crippling anxiety and are plagued with constant thoughts about how everything can and will go wrong. That’s why it’s a job for Lance. And Allura. And Hunk. And Shiro.

But not Keith. Keith prefers to walk blindly into dangerous situations and deal with whatever is thrown at him after. Black Paladin Keith, however, motherfucker that he is, has to sit down in meetings for a thousand hours and listen to people argue and try not to wish death and curses upon a myriad of irritating Coalition leaders and allies.

Keith needs a goddamn nap.

Not even bothering to take off his boots, and ignoring the Lance-shaped voice in his head squawking about how disgusting that is, Keith stuffs his face into his pillow, reaching blindly for a blanket and yanking it up to his ears. He is going to Sleep, goddamnit. He is going to keep his comm where it is, stuffed under his mattress, and pass the hell out, to be woken only by some terrible and glorious act of God herself. The universe and all its associates can take an hour to kindly piss the hell off and leave Keith alone.

A knock sounds on his door.

Keith screams. Loudly.

“Keith?” calls a voice, muffled through the doorway, and of course it is the one person in the entire world who Keith has never and will never be able to say no to.

“Hnnnnnngh,” Keith responds. He actually tears up, a little.

The door slides open. Hunk pokes his head in, smile sweet and guilty and hopeful.

“I’m going to swallow engine oil,” Keith anguishes.

“Maybe don’t,” Hunk suggests lightly.

Keith groans again, shoving his head back into the pillow. Hunk patiently waits for Keith to get his shit together enough to lift his head again. Probably because he knows he’s more effective if he can manipulate Keith via facial expressions. Ugh. Keith should ask if he can return his friends. Get store credit, maybe. It’s not worth it.

Hunk smiles sunnily when Keith manages to pull away from his pillow, proving his point. Keith scowls extra hard at him.

“I am busy, Hunk.”

“I need parts,” he pleads, hands pressed together and under his chin. “Pretty pretty please.”

“You have a lion that you can pilot yourself!”

“I need the parts for the lion. Duh.”

Keith groans again. He should say no. He probably can say no. If it was urgent, Coran would be flying the castle for the parts. Hunk is coming to Keith because he knows damn well that Keith is a sucker with a saviour complex. Keith is not going to give in this time.

…Except he is so. Because he is a sucker with a fucking saviour complex.

Fuck.

“You’re bumped down to third favourite,” Keith grouches, rolling off the bed and allowing himself three seconds to sprawl on the floor.

“Yeah, right,” Hunk snorts.

Keith growls. Hunk, wisely, chooses against anymore teasing or commentary, deciding instead to quickly back away and head back down to his workshop.

“Okay thanks Keith bye! Love you bunches!”

Keith rolls his eyes, fighting off the smile that traitorously wants to fight it’s way across his lips, and reaches for his comm to get the details of Hunk’s errand.

“I am going to fucking bite him,” he says, carefully controlled, as he reads the message.

MISSION SHOULD YOU ACCEPT: get parts for hunk because you love him so

OBJECTIVE: obtain 174g of Noxalian black ore (pure as possible)

PEOPLE NECESSARY: two so you should take lance probably ;)

LOCATION: Noxalia-1242

DANGER LEVEL: like -2 but you’re so whipped for lance that it probably brings it up to like a 12 lol. loser

He’s red in the ears and it’s goddamn annoying, is what it is, because these are official mission documents, Hunk, which means they are technically public Coalition information once the mission has been completed. Public.

Hunk is the worst out of all of them for that. He actually had the highest record of diplomatic incidents caused, because he is actually physically incapable of keeping his comments to himself and this can, as one might anticipate, offend a large number of people.

But since he is a good fucking friend (the best, maybe) especially because his friends are class four menaces who do not deserve it in the slightest, Keith drags himself away from his bedroom and towards the materials room, where he knows Lance is.

He makes his frustration known.

Despite the fact that he was stomping like a petulant child and Lance has ears akin to the sonar receptors of a Navy submarine, Lance doesn’t react when he comes into the room, hunched as he is over a project of his.

Keith stops short. He grins wickedly, mood suddenly shifted.

Oh ho.

Oh ho ho.

Quieter, now, although he knows it doesn’t matter, Keith creeps towards the Red Paladin. He makes sure his footfalls are soundless and soft, just like he was taught by the Blades, and his body is directly behind Lance, in the blind spot of his peripheral vision. He focuses on the chair Lance is sitting on rather than his actual person so as to not envoy the feeling of being stared at. And quietly, quietly, he sneaks up behind him.

“RAH!” he shouts, seizing Lance’s shoulders and shaking them. Lance shrieks at the top of his lungs, jumping twelve cubic meters into the air, flailing wildly and sending his sketchbook flying at Keith’s face. Lance’s aim, as it always is, rings true, and the spine of the heavy book nails Keith directly on the bridge of his nose.

“Ow!” Keith yells, pain made worse by the heaving gasps of his laughter.

“¡Chingada madre de cráneo grueso!” Lance screams, hand pressed to his chest, and then, for Keith’s benefit, continues: “You mother fucker! You backwards, tumbleweed-guzzling, sand-eating, cow-fucking son of a minotaur! I’ll fucking get you! I’ll fucking — crush you to death! Come closer, Kogane, I swear to God I’ll wreck your shit —”

Breathless, weak, and wheezing, there’s nothing Keith can do to avoid Lance’s menacing advancing. He can’t even summon the strength to lift his arms to defend himself from Lance’s smacking. He just sits there, taking it, laughing harder every time he remembers just how fucking high Lance had jumped.

“You fucking — stop fucking laughing! Asshole!”

Lance’s expression is only growing more murderous. His mouth is pulled back in a snarl and he sure are shit isn’t pulling his punches. The only thing assuring Keith that he’s not genuinely about to die, curled on the floor, completely devoid of dignity, is the ever-present warmth in Lance’s brown eyes, even as they’re narrowed in fury.

“I — I’m sorry,” Keith wheezes, loosely wrapping his hands around Lance’s ankle as he kicks him. “Please. Oh my God. Stop. I cant breathe.”

“I hope you suffocate!” Lance shrieks.

“Lance, please,” Keith begs. With more strength than he knew he had, Keith heaves a giant, calming breath, shoving the image of Lance’s face as he’d practically flipped off the chair far into the recesses of his mind. Fuck. “I’m sorry. You were so focused. I couldn’t resist.”

Lance huffs. He kicks Keith one last time for prosperity before plopping on the floor next to him, scowl still affixed to his face, but lips twitching with a clear attempt to keep it there.

“I’m allowing your amusement because I laughed today when Senator Grmsx called you a toad. But watch your back.”

“Noted,” Keith says with amusement. He sighs, breath shuddering with the last of his laughter, and stretches out, sliding his feet under Lance’s thighs and resting the back of his skull on the floor. He stares at the ceiling until his vision gets unfocused and blurry, making the glowing blue streaks warp and swirl. He smiles slightly when he feels Lance’s arm hook around his bent knees.

“I got conned,” he laments, flipping his arms behind his head.

Lance hums. “Hunk?”

“Yep.”

“Capitalised on your intense need to do things for your friends to send you on errands?”

“Mhm.”

“Sucks to suck.”

Keith tucks his folded hands under his head and looks up at Lance, smiling in a mirror to Hunk, earlier, sweet and guilty and hopeful. “Well…”

Lance pulls away, waving his hands. “Nuh-uh. No way. You’re not dragging me into your shit, Superman. You want to help everyone around you like the tryhard golden retriever you are, that’s a you problem. I’m a bitch on purpose so I can be errand-free.”

“Please?” Keith tries, batting his eyelashes. The thirteen year old version of himself in his head is dying of embarrassment. (Good. He can suffer for a bit. He used to insist on sleeping on the floor because sleeping on a bed was ‘too mainstream’.)

Lance glares at him. Keith can actually physically see his resolve breaking. He’s very smug about it.

“Ugh,” Lance says.

“Thank you,” Keith says, smirking.

“Ugh,” Lance says again, much more pointed. “Where are we even going?”

Keith climbs to his feet, offering a hand to pull Lance up, too. He stretches and shifts his shoulders, leading them both out of the material room and down to the hangars.

“Noxalia-1242. Hunk needs some kind of ore.”

Lance gasps, dropping Keith’s hand. It is then that Keith realises that they were holding hands, and chokes on his own spit.

“Noxalia-1242? You sure?”

“Yes,” Keith rasps, still dying. Lance doesn’t notice, beaming so wide his eyes are nearly forced shut. He lets out this shout of excitement and wiggles, a little, like he can’t contain himself, and it’s so fucking cute that Keith somehow chokes again, which he didn’t think was possible. There’s a genuine concern that he may pass away.

“You should’ve led with that! Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

He sprints the rest of the way to Black’s hangar, dragging Keith along. Keith tries desperately to get ahold of himself. It works about 27%, which is way more than he was expecting.

Lance is practically bouncing in glee the entire trip, scrambling out of his seatbelt and twirling around the cabin the second they breach the castle’s orbit. He’s actually humming to himself. Keith’s grinning so wide it hurts, and he doesn’t even know why they’re excited. Lance is just — infectious, as he always is; bright and all-encompassing and sparkling.

It’s a struggle and a half to land, and not just because Lance is being distracting. (Or, well, that Keith is distracted by him. It’s not really Lance’s fault. Keith was once distracted by Lance yawning, for reasons he’s too embarrassed to admit even to himself.) The surface of the planet is slate grey and thick with swirling, furious clouds, and it’s a testament to Black’s power that they manage to stay mostly steady, because Keith is a good pilot but he well and truly can’t see shit. The landing is rough.

“C’mon, c’mon!” Lance urges, out of his seatbelt faster than Keith can blink and rushing him to get out of his. “Let’s go!”

“I’m coming, Jesus,” Keith mumbles, finally releasing that damn buckle. He has to sprint to keep up with Lance, following him to the slowly opening hatch.

When they get to the open door, Keith is assaulted with a gust of frigid air and a spray of water. He curses, ducking to the side, hiking his collar over his head so he doesn’t get too soaked. He wishes he’d known to bring his armour.

“Fuck, it’s — pouring!”

Lance laughs, delighted, and before Keith can even think to stop him he sprints down the ramp, into the rain, soaked to the bone immediately.

“Lance! Lance — come back here! What are you doing?!”

But Lance only laughs again, and Keith can’t hear it because of a roar of thunder but he can see it in the giant grin on Lance’s face, open-mouthed, and the way he squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head back and opens his arms to the skies like he’s worried the rain isn’t soaking enough of him.

“You’re going to get pneumonia, you anaemic dumbass!” Keith shouts.

“Come join me!” Lance shouts back.

The worst part is that Keith doesn’t even think.

He stumbles down the ramp without even a second of hesitation, before he’d even realized he’d moved, cursing the whole time, shocked with the sudden onslaught of cold and windy and wet. There’s something about the way Lance said it, not come out here not it’s just rain, dorkus not come get wet!, but come join me. Like it’s not about the rain but about the rain with Lance.

The very iron in Keith’s blood is pulled to him like the world’s strongest magnet.

“If I wanted to get soaked for no reason I’d jump in the pool fully clothed,” Keith grumbles, but there’s a breathless quality to his voice that cannot he muffled.

For the first time since he sprinted out of Black like a madman, Lance tears his face away from the heavens, looking at Keith with eyes that seem impossibly dark with from the reflection of the clouds, almost black as the storm.

“You hate the rain?”

“Yes!” Keith says emphatically, but he hears his own voice like a distant echo, far away. Lance’s laughter is bright and feels louder than the thunder, like clinking gold bangles. Keith’s heart drops to his stomach and his eyes go wider than planets.

Lance turns, slowly, hands still spread wide, face easy and open and peaceful in a way Keith has never seen on him, turned back up the the pelting rain, every droplet doing something to him that makes him glow.

“How could anyone hate the rain?”

Suddenly, wholly, breathlessly, Keith doesn’t. His collar slides from his slackened fingers and flops back over his neck, soaked through. His hair plasters to his forehead and it’s wet and cold and water drips directly into his eyes but suddenly he is warmed from the very centre of himself, ricocheting outwards.

“It’s breathtaking,” Keith finally admits, and he is, this son of the skies, this boy of the rain. He is the most breathtaking thing Keith has ever seen in his life.

He swallows, tilts his head up to the sky, and smiles.

———

based on this post

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen react to you planning their birthday surprise

requested by @minhui896: "hi!! if you don't feel comfortable writing this or anything that is perfectly fine! i think ive been obsessed with birthday fics they just make me happy :) so i was wondering if you could do a ot13 svt reacts to you planning their birthday! if ot13 is too much you can just do your favorite members as well!"

notes: this is one that i really enjoyed doing, haha <3

masterlist

seungcheol:

when he's surprised at the surprise birthday party that you plan for him, that's his genuine shock. had absolutely no idea that you were doing all of this in secret. trusted you completely when you said you had unfortunately had no time to plan a big event n so you were just going to take him on a small date instead </3 started crying a little when you guys came back to the house after the date to realise his birthday celebrations had only just begun

jeonghan:

this man sees everything. well, almost everything. he knows you're planning something for him, thinks it's going to be one of those surprises where everyone jumps out at him. practices acting shocked for it, but then is genuinely surprised when the celebration turns out to be just you and him, having a fancy, quiet meal on the rooftop by yourselves of some expensive restaurant. it warms his heart at the sincerity and intimacy of what you've planned for him

joshua:

you probably told joshua everything about the event you were planning for his birthday. he most likely ended up planning half of it with you tbh, but he doesn't mind bc it makes him feel so loved to see you so excited for his special day. allows you to drag him around the fairground to keep to the schedule you've planned, and the highlight of the day is when you scheduled the timing just right so that you're at the top of the ferris wheel in time to see the beautiful winter sunset <3

junhui:

the guy had no clue, i promise you. lets himself be dragged out of bed by dokyeom early in the morning bc the younger "needed someone to help him buy shampoo" (at 6am??? but he doesn't think too much abt it) and follows him unquestioningly on the series of (planned) mishaps that the guy has. comes back to the house at noon, exhausted, then actually screams when you and the rest of svt come at him with balloons and party poppers. even tho you almost gave him a heart attack, he loved his birthday surprise very much

hoshi:

is all hyper like an excited child. when you tell him you have something special planned for his birthday, his eyes light up brighter than anything else in the world. is rlly confused when you tell him to dress comfortably, n is pestering you to give him a clue of where you're going the entire ride to the destination. almost drops to one knee right then and there when you guys get to the adult soft play you booked for him and yourself. has the time of his life, gets drunk and gives you sloppy kisses everywhere he can reach

wonwoo:

eyes go as round as saucers and he starts beaming rlly adorably when you wake him up with breakfast in bed on his birthday. jokingly asks what the special occasion is, and eats everything with gusto. you take him to a big cat sanctuary, and he is in awe of all the different wild cats you see. it's a quiet birthday, but he's so touched that you went out of your way to do this for him and honestly, he thinks getting to spend the day with you is the best birthday event ever

woozi:

wakes up at 2pm to your face looming over him asking if he had a good sleep. part of your birthday surprise was to turn off his morning alarms and let him rest for once, which, once he realises, has him laughing n smiling rlly widely. your birthday surprise for him also comes in the form of a song you wrote and composed (with the help of hoshi and vernon), and he listens so intently with tears forming in his eyes because goddamnit you really love him so much and he's so grateful you do

minghao:

he tells you offhandedly one time that he thinks he'd like it if someone planned something extravagant for his birthday, so you go all out. there's an early-morning treasure hunt to find you via post-it notes n smugly grinning members, then you take him to lunch in a newly opened dog cafe he's said he's wanted to go to, before finally you dress up to go see a theatre in an extravagant hall, ending the day with orchestral music ringing in your ears as you eat homemade cake that mingyu had left on the table once you came back home, dabbing frosting on each other's noses. he's tired, but he's smiling, and he thinks he's never loved you more than he does right now. 

mingyu:

has the most dramatic reaction ever. your surprise could have been handing him a burnt cake you'd made and he'd be sobbing all over it. as it were, however, you'd planned a whole spread of food for him while he'd gone to the cinema with some of his friends, and so he ends up being an inconsolable mess at your feet because it all smells so good and why didn't you tell him you knew how to cook??? you can't finish everything, but you two try your best, and he's grinning dopily bc he's all happy-full and it's all because of your wonderful cooking

dokyeom:

another person who genuinely had no idea you were planning something for him. when you wake him up with breakfast in bed, he thinks it's going to be a quiet day, but oh boy is he wrong. finds himself absolutely loving it as you rattle off all the plans you have for the day while he's stuffing his face with pancakes. takes pictures of everywhere you go and everything you present to him. kisses you softly under the night sky as you're sitting on the roof of your house, telling you quietly and sincerely that this was the best birthday event he's ever had

seungkwan:

was lowkey stressed that he'd end up having to plan his own birthday again, so when he walks into the living room to see you next to a whiteboard with a whole schedule of events, he genuinely breathes a sigh of relief. takes a picture of your timetable, but lets himself relenquish control to you as you take him practically everywhere he's ever wanted to go on a whistlestop tour throughout the day. everything is so meticulously planned out, and he tells you very seriously over wine and pasta in a fancy restaurant that he will give you a birthday celebration next time that is as wonderful as this

vernon:

when you wake him up with a simple "happy birthday" in the morning, he can't lie that he's a little disappointed. he thought you'd do something a little bigger for him. but when it's nearing the evening, you tell him to get dressed into something warmer and he visibly lights up. is in absolute awe when the two of you drive to a stargazing sight in the middle of the countryside. gets all hyper, tells you all the weird facts he knows. you two end up leaving after a few hours bc it's cold, but he's beaming and he's so happy that you did this for him

chan:

when he's woken up by you throwing off his covers and leaving him shivering in the winter morning, he's a little disgruntled but eventually grows utterly excited when you tell him over breakfast (that someone else made bc neither of you can cook all that well) that you and the rest of the group are taking him to a roller disco. (he's even more excited when you make a point to tell him that you paid for his ticket but the other members had to pay for their own.) still considers that roller disco party to be his best birthday celebration ever

request guidelines

[klausinamarink]

Oop let's try this again; for the birthday fics: “Because you’re a jinx!” angsty Steddie established relationship, chasing fame Eddie and some guy Steve who gets discovered while Eddie's band keeps being passed over? Platonic hellcheer and platonic Stobin.

I couldn’t find a way to put in the platonic ships but it’s still Steddie. Enjoy the angsty flavour electric boogaloo.

It was supposed to be Eddie’s lucky day.

This was supposed to be his time. The moment when the rich suits would look at Eddie and immediately offer him the contract that finally pushed his music to fame.

But it was just another fucking mediocre performance. Only a few people out of the dozens in the crowd cheered, but that was worse than getting no response at all. Nobody even went up to them for an autograph, their numbers, Instagram handles, music samples, anything that would’ve made the night worth it.

Eddie stayed silent and seething for the whole drive home. The rest of the band left on their own respective vehicles, though Jeff had lingered longer to say something that Eddie mentally filtered out. Probably some shitty encouragement or a call to quit. 

His hands tightened around the wheel. Eddie felt the pulsing headache crawl to the back of his eyes. Goddamnit, he needed to sleep.

Maybe in Steve’s arms, but for once, Eddie just wanted to be alone for tonight. 

After he parked the car and trudged the stairs back to his apartment, Eddie bit his lip until he tasted the sting of copper. 

He was so tired. Not just physically, but in very foul shape that took its claws into him. It was the apathetic crowds and uninterested advisors. How the rest of the band delayed practice more and more. The bland methodical act of cutting up another piece of his shrinking soul as a muse for his lyrics. 

But still. He was close to that single star of recognition. Eddie had to taste it.

Unlocking the door, Eddie kept himself from collapsing until he dropped his guitar case and landed face-first on the couch. 

In the bedroom, he could catch some muffled conversation, the floor creaking as Steve paced back and forth inside. 

Eddie frowned and checked his phone for any missed messages. Steve hadn’t texted him since five,  soon after Eddie had left for the worst night of his life. It was almost eleven now. So why was his boyfriend still up and talking to someone?

Before Eddie could try and get up, the door opened and Steve came out, his phone in hand. Steve glanced up and stopped in his tracks when he saw Eddie. He gave a bright smile.

“Hey, babe! You okay?” 

Eddie groaned. If he had the energy, he could scream into the pillows.

The floor creaked as Steve approached and gently laid a hand on his back. “Was the band okay?”

Eddie groaned again, unable to hold himself back from pressing against Steve’s hand. He could really use a fucking massage. Or some quick, stress-relief sex. “It’s fucking awful. It’s always fucking awful.”

Steve made a sympathetic noise, “I’m sorry to hear that, Eds.”

Eddie lifted his head up and peered at Steve. Despite his words, there was an odd light in Steve’s eyes and his lips were fighting desperately not to smile.

“What is it?” He asked.

Steve had the nerve to look spooked, “Uh, well, I don’t want to ruin your mood-”

“What is it?”

Steve stared at him for a moment before he sighed like it was the start of a serious discussion.

“You know that audition I did back in Chicago two weeks ago?” Steve bit his lip. It only revealed the cracks of excitement on his face and Eddie already knew what he was about to say. “Well, my agent called and said that I’m officially casted. I’m gonna be in a HBO show!”

Record scratch.

Eddie only stared at Steve as the news hit him with the speed of a truck. When he saw Steve’s smile in full glory, he only saw blank faces who spat at him with rejection and disappointment and ‘try better’s. 

How the fuck does Steve get so many gigs when Eddie could barely find an open venue in advance? And now he’s going to work for fucking HBO, Jesus Christ-

Steve was frowning at him, “You- are you not happy?”

“Of course, I am!” Eddie said quickly. It felt hard to speak when there was something now stuck and burning in his throat. He got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen. He needed a drink. Maybe not alcohol, though tempting. But some actual water but he was too exhausted and sober for this shit. 

“I’m always here to support my wonderful and talented boyfriend who never misses an audition. Who always gets a spot in whatever he plays in, even if it’s a fucking diaper commercial or a glorified extra who gets five more cents than his less impressive boyfriend.” 

As he spoke, his words became more tinted with venom. Eddie took an empty glass and filled it under the tap. He almost choked from gulping it down in one go. It cooled his throat, but the burning simply expanded through his veins.

“Okay, you’re mad.” Steve said slowly, now behind him.

Eddie laughed bitterly, “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. They taught you that in acting class or was it a trick from your last ex?”

“Jesus, okay, Eddie.” Steve put his hands on Eddie’s shoulders but Eddie shook him off with more force than necessary. “You’re obviously in a bad mood and my news isn’t making it better, but you did ask and-”

Eddie whirled around. He was seeing red at the corners of his vision. “And now it’s my fault?!”

Steve backed away, his hands up in a plea of surrender. His face pinched with concern and hurt. “Eddie, let’s, let’s just go to bed. Take a shower-”

“Stop treating me like I’m a child!” 

“Fuck, even a child would tell me what’s making them this upset!”

“You wanna know why I’m so upset? Huh?” Eddie smacked a hand against Steve’s chest, pushing his boyfriend away. “Take a guess with your ‘subtlety’ talents and maybe you can fucking figure it out.”

“No, I- Eds, baby-” Steve stopped to take a breath. He looked back at Eddie with more firmness, but he saw the way Steve’s ego was crumbling in his eyes. “Can you please just tell me why are you acting like this? Was it because I did something or-?”

Eddie’s anger flared. It touched the back of his mouth so he spat it all out like a dragon. “Oh, everything you do with your squeaky clean and easy career is the reason why I’m pissed at you. You get all of these stupid roles to play some stupid character Twitter would make discourse for while I have spent the last three years trying to find someone who’s willing to listen to my band play in a goddamn studio! But I keep missing these opportunities for some reason that I’m starting to think that we’re cursed or shit.”

“Eds, it can’t-”

“And don’t you say you know how it feels like because you never knew how to fucking fail, Stevie! Everything you do is just rich executives giving you silver platters. I bet they all want that Harrington blowjob.”

Steve gasped softly and shook his head. He now had his arms around himself like it would protect him. “That’s not true- Why are you even saying these things to me?!”

“Because you’re a jinx! Because you’re Steve Harrington and I hate your dumb luck!”

Eddie’s words echoed across the apartment as he breathed heavily. He wouldn’t be surprised if it went out the windows and into the streets. 

Steve held an unbelievably idiotic expression. Mouth half-open, a slack jaw, glossy eyes that just stared at Eddie without any more light shining in them.

Finally, he spoke so quietly that Eddie had to strain to hear, “Okay… I’m going to Robin’s.”

With that, Steve hurried out, having some decency to not slam the door.

And then it was just Eddie, alone in the kitchen with the nasty thoughts and words that would soon bite back at him.

[deathofacupid]

stuck with you | peter parker

summary: you love him, but you hate him. maybe you'll be able to love him a little bit more if it's really just the two of you.

"we're lost." you declared. 

"no, we aren't."

"yes, we are!"

"fine, then, mr. navigator, where are we?"

"um... er, we are— we are right here."

you rolled your eyes, along with a string of curses. 

peter sighed, "this is my life now. i have climbed this hill, and will die upon it."

"shut it. we've only been walking for 20 minutes. in the direction you said to go," you threw you hands up in frustration. yes, walking for 20 minutes, but stranded for maybe around 3 hours, you'd guess.

the plan, at first, was to wait for your father, tony, and the rest of the team to find you, but it'd had become quite evident after a while that they weren't coming for you.

"just because i have spider-sense, doesn't mean i have common sense!"

"well, i know that now!" after a moment, you pinched the bridge of your nose. "look, us stupidly arguing isn't gonna get us anywhere, okay?"

peter sighed, half-heartedly shrugging. you went back to fiddling with your ear comm, hoping to get it back online. for a moment, you heard static, and you squealed.

"what? what?"

and then it went back to silence. "goddamnit." you were very, very close to chucking it off a cliff. "aren't you, like, a tech genius or something? can't you do something with this?"

"i already tried. all i got was radio silence. we're completely off the grid, dumb-ass."

"you don't think i know that? god, why did i get stuck with the spider-kid?" you mumbled the second part under your breath.

"hey!"

oops. forgot about the spider-hearing. 

"okay, well— at least— at least my powers don't consist of freaking levitation!"

"it's not levitation!"

"my bad, telekinesis."

"psychokinesis!"

"same thing. who cares?"

you scowled and used your mental concentration to lift him a good 20 feet into the air.

"don't—" he yelped, "put me down!"

"don't put you down?"

"no! put. me. down!"

"can't hear you up there."

"you actual piece of— drop me! wait, no, not—"

you weren't doing anything bad. just what he told you to do. peter landed on the ground with a loud thud. that had to hurt, you thought.

"because all i can do is levitate things," you mocked, "how dumb. at least i don't shoot webs out of my ass-crack."

"i don't—"

but by then, you'd already tuned him out. one of your headaches was coming on, because you normally didn't lift heavy things in the air, or really, not most things. you were still figuring out how to use them.

it wasn't something you regretted though, it was very worth it.

"—and you know, i'm sure that—"

how was he still going?

"—because you haven't even started—"

i might chuck him off a cliff instead.

"—crazy, since—"

you gritted your teeth, massaging your temple, "please stop talking."

"hah! i'm sure you'd love— y/n? are you good?"

"yes," you waved his concern off (along with the butterflies in your stomach), "i'm fine."

"regret that yet?"

"no," you grinned. "never."

peter flopped down, sitting up against a tree. "i'm sure."

you joined him, taking a seat beside peter. in complete exhaustion, you dropped your head on his shoulder, quietly inhaling the smell of him. pinewood, aftershave, and a tinge of sweat. 

he flinched slightly at the action, but looped an arm around you. 

moments like this made being near peter actually nice. for once, you enjoyed his company. but the feeling didn't last long, because the reality of being stranded in a giant forrest/jungle/whatever other word for this place hit hard after a second.

"jeez, are we ever gonna get home?"

"yes. maybe. i mean, probably." he stammered.

"this is definitely worst case scenario. stuck on an alien planet, lost in— in whatever this was. were these even trees? were trees purple with yellow studs sticking out of them? 

you didn't know. you just wanted to go home. granted, peter's presence was making this slightly better, but still. 

"it's okay," you heard him say. "you can sleep. i got you, y/n." peter kissed the top of your head, and you subconciously smiled.

"you know," you murmured, "i'm glad that if i'm stuck with anyone here, i'm stuck with you."

and then you were falling, falling, into a deep, dreamless sleep, with pitch black envloping you entirely.