#but then u get closer & see those big eyes are filled with rage and that there's stabbing intent in that knife-weilding hand

[byanyan]

thinkin about killer verse byan again (bc I always am) and like. kinda just laughing because they're honestly the least threatening looking killer. like they're literally some doe-eyed kid wearing bright pink & a load of cute accessories who just happens to also be holding a knife.

[sillylittlepluto]

Bro, in my honest opinion, there's 2 / 3 scenarios TO ME that could have happened.

1

Annabel kissed her impulsively while being alone on the academy, like..

They're fighting as always, cus like.. That's only what these bitches do.. ☠️

Annabel gets tired, angry, annoyed, upset, frustrated. Oh God, it's really not the best time for a kiss, but with all the emotions simply getting to her like if there was wild horses making her go insane on the head, she got enough of all of this. Of hearing Lenore screaming at her, pouncing at her and trying to get her attention by simply snapping at her.. It was simply too much. Annabel was far away, deep on her thoughts, holding back and getting quiet all of a sudden when she got so much to say before.

"What?! Have no words to shout at me anymore?!" Lenore said while looking down at Annabel, her eyes filled with rage. "I have nothing more to say, pet." Annabel answers quietly, coldly that almost take a shiver out of Lenore. "Oh, really?! What's in your mind then?! How to kill more people?!" There's a moment, on where you're so full of people talking, of people screaming, of people whispering.. Sometimes you just.. "You want me to shut up?! Then try to take the words off of m—" Before Lenore could finish her phrase,Annabel got her by the cravat around Lenore's neck, pulling her into a kiss, which made Lenore widen her blue eyes, to which instead of rage, it had confusion and... Longing? Oh how she wanted to continue that kiss, but when she was getting used to Annabel's sweet, warm lips, the blonde backed off and shoved Lenore away, to which she got surprised.

"There. Now keep it shut, it's better for you not to use that filthy tongue for screaming at me again, or I won't be so nice next time." Of course she'll be. And that threat? Lenore didn't even paid attention to it, she was too busy touching her own lips, with her cheeks red, wondering: ' What in the devil...Was that..? '

(holy shit I've wrote too much)

2

Maybe it was before they got on nevermore..

Think of someone just talking to them and Annabel silently tucks her feet under Lenore's pants and she just go like: "wtf r u doing?" But discretely, and Annabel isn't even looking at her, only focusing on the person Infront of them.

That little flirt, was enough for Lenore to remember when she kissed Annabel, and it was so quick, it felt like a short smooch..

(just hear me out, gang)

Annabel was once again, discretely on Lenore's room, to which was so risky, but also so thrilling. It gave her a shock of excitement and anxiety. Lenore, knowing that Annabel was getting on her room, didn't even changed her outfit, because she already saw how her blonde "friend" reacts to when she does this, and sincerely? It was kinda funny to see her reacting that way.

Annabel opened the big white door slowly, trying hard not to hear a single creak. Lenore was familiar with Annabel's worries, yet, she still came to her room on random occasions to talk about their plan. "Wow, what's with the new dress?" The black haired teased, to which made the blonde narrow her eyes and blush. "None of your business, now, about your plan.." Annabel was wearing one of the most beautiful pearl necklace. Looks like she knows how to listen people after all.. "Hm? What's that?" Lenore smirked, fixing her cravat Infront of the mirror. Annabel gave a frustrated sigh, she was getting annoyed with how smug Lenore was being. "I wanna know more about it." Annabel stepped closer to Lenore, getting Infront of her and getting her cravat, fixing it for her. She just stopped and looked at those deep, pinkish color eyes. She haven't felt like this in a long, long time.. Annabel was talking, but Lenore wasn't listening,only focusing on those gloved hands. "--- Are you even listening to me?"

"W-What? Oh, sorry.." Lenore blushed out of embarrassment, Annabel only rolled her eyes and tightened the cravat. "That's better." She said, looking at her work. The taller one held her cane with so much strength, she could see her fingers start to get white. And before Lenore could get focused again, her eyes looked for something else on Annabel, the slight pink, soft and probably warm lips. Why was her heart fluttering like this again? Gosh, it was so annoying. Annabel noticed the look, and started looking for Lenore's too. This was so wrong, so wrong-

Lenore got Annabel by the hips and gave her a quick smooch on the lips, Annabel felt her cheeks flush again,but the kiss was mutual, only a bit messy. Her hands going around Lenore's neck and pulling her closer...

It was so good, yet so quick.. They were surprised by the large 'bang' of the clock, signaling another hour. Annabel quickly backed off and looked away. Lenore did the same.

Ok,ill go. I'm sorry.

I've constantly been thinking about what Lennabel's first kiss was like. Was it something they did to keep up appearances? If so was it the kiss that made them realize they had romantic feelings for each other? Or was the kiss an impulsive act by one or both of them? Was it in public or in privet? Was it a quick peck on the lips or was it full of longing and passion?

I NEED TO KNOW!!!

Also, please reblog or comment with your head cannons about their first kiss I would love to read them :3

[whosjunglejim4322]

Dom!mark lee w breeding kink for @nakamotocore I am v excited this is nasty aha devil emoji, est. relationship, uhm spitting, hand/finger kink, overindulgence of the word baby, fingering, creampie, bathroom sex, fucking in front of a mirror, mark has a nasty mouth, he's a sweetie who is acc very in love w u, toothrotting fluff at the end

It really wasn't your fault. You are pro comfort above all else, in fact, it's even advised by certified healthcare professionals, to not wear underwear occasionally - who are you to risk not giving yourself the care you need and or deserve?

Sure, maybe you should've worn something a bit less conspicuous than a dress, but it's not like you aren't careful. Of course you are! Especially since you and Mark are visiting Jaehyun and Johnny at their new home payed by Jae's onlyfans money - but silly you, had still accidentally managed to expose yourself - luckily, with only your boyfriend there to see.

You'd been rummaging in J number one and two's fridge, eager to find something behind the rows of beer that stacked the shelves, organized neatly as if they'd actually taken their time on making at least twenty five cans of bud light look presentable.

Mark had followed, having promised to bring a couple of the beverages back to the living room, just as you spotted the non alcoholic juice cocktail nestled all the way in the back of the bottom row - your fingers suddenly prickling with newfound determination.

"You're really.....fuck," Mark groaned from somewhere behind you and all at once the breeze against your bare center had you shivering. You've been caught. "come here."

It was a silent, steady command that rang with regained composure and as you stood up straight, Marks hands gripped your hips with ferocity, spinning you around to face him.

If the flaring of his nostrils and the glossy, lost glare in his doe eyes were anything to go by, you'd ticked something inside of him that began raging like a bull behind his ribcage; dick swelling in his sweats at a rapid rate, while he pulled you closer to his body by the swell of your ass.

Your gasp was a puff against his cheek, pupils blown wide when you felt the warmth of his palm against your sex from behind, the prod of his middle finger. You could still hear Jaehyun and Johnny in the living room just around the corner, furthering the mixture of thrill and embarrassment.

"You did this on purpose, huh?" He growled it against your ear, the vibration trilling down your spine and flooding your pelvis with heat. Within the second you were being tugged along, out of the kitchen and through the hall that led to an intersection of doors; the one straight ahead being the bathroom, the others bedrooms.

You had to grip onto the back of his shirt to keep up with him, despite the fact that your wrist was firmly entrapped by his slim fingers. You entered the middle door and that's what led to your current situation; your ass perched on his friends' bathroom counter with your dress being hiked up around your thighs.

"M-Markie, right now? W-what if they come looking for - ohhhh, for us?" You sputter as the pad of his middle and forefinger rub your clit in circles, his bottom lip caught between his two front teeth. He chuckles darkly, in a way that makes you leak, and suddenly you're far too worked up to think straight anymore.

"Don't Markie me, you really came here in this pretty little dress," he tugs the ensemble up higher, until it's resting around your hips and your naked center is in full view. "with your pussy right underneath, completely bare."

He kisses you sloppily, as if he's as drunk on the adrenaline as you are, but with clear purpose. You grind against his fingers and then he's pulling away, grin lopsided and fever inducing, the way it always is when he's in these moods.

"That's not-" he cuts you off, slowing his circles and your clit throbs in protest.

"What? Not fair?" He scoffs, pulling you closer by the back of your knees, nestling his narrow hips in between your parted thighs while his mouth presses soft kisses to your cheek, down your jaw.

"You know what's really not fair, baby?" Your wetness is loud even as he glides his digits through the silk of your folds, using the lightest of touches to trace the ring of your slit.

"You knew I'd notice, eventually," his tongue flicks across your throat, over to your carotid artery until he's kissing the patch of skin just under your ear. "and you wanted my dick to get hard in front of my friends - fuck - wanted me to have to drag you to the bathroom and rub your little pussy just like this - you were staring at my hands all day, hmm?"

You're already trembling in his hold, and you have to fight back the near irrepressible urge to whimper when he slides those fingers into your sopping heat - your walls sucking him in greedily, contracting around the digits.

"Fuuuck baby, so fucking wet." he groans, curling his fingers when he feels you squeezing around them. You blame it on him- it's hard not to notice the bulge that has formed underneath his shorts, and your neediness grows with each sound that passes his pretty lips.

Of course, this is Mark, though. He feeds off of the fact that you're so fucked out so fast, knows that you'll act completely innocent until he fucks the truth about your mischievous plans out of you - even so, you whine just a bit too loudly when your hole feels sudden emptiness.

"Please, Mark," you're begging already, pouting until he brings the soaked digits to your mouth. Without missing a beat you're parting your lips and suckling your juices off of him, his dick twitching the minute he feels the slick of your tongue.

"Is that what you're gonna call me, while you're trying to get your way?" He cups your cheek, pulling his spit soaked fingers from your mouth before wiping them on the inside of your thigh.

"No, no sir I'm sorry," he smiles proudly, cock leaking and desire saturating his senses as you stare up at him through the thick of your lashes, clinging onto the front of his shirt in an effort to pull him closer than what he already is.

This proves to showcase your real desperation and then he's kissing you again, roughly at first but then he's rhythmic while he takes his time suckling your bottom lip, then your top, and alternating between the two.

You're so distracted by the feel of his tongue against the roof of your mouth, that you don't even realize he's shoved his shorts down, until the bulbous tip of his cock rubs against your swollen clit.

"Fuck me, please Mar-sir? Want you s-so bad." You mewl, gasping when you're suddenly pulled off of the counter by your waist, turned around and met with your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror. You bend yourself over with no hesitation, eyes drawn forward and belly tightening with arousal from the sight before you; from the way Mark's entire expression has darkened, gaze low and focused on the glistening between your legs.

"Yeah? Wanna be fucked full of my cum, hmm baby?" He's fucked out, hazy from the ache in the pit of his belly, in his chest. He's gripping the thick shaft of his length, rubbing the plum hued head up an down your slit as if it's his tongue lapping at your pussy instead.

"Mm, yes, yes please stuff me full, sir."

You push back against him and he chuckles at the way you're trembling, though he honestly doesn't think he can last much longer to tease you about it, balls tightening with the urge to release. Plus, how could he say no to you?

It always takes him by surprise, every single time he pushes himself into you. It's a further reminder that you're his, made for him in every way and it makes his desire even headier.

He bottoms out and you're gripping onto the edge of the sink for dear life, eyes holding themselves open just so you can watch Marks soft features contort into that of someone else completely. His dark eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, petal lips parted.

He drags his length out of you and you're the only thing he sees as he thrusts himself back into the warmth of your sex, his hands snug around your hips as a form of leverage for the pace he sets; hard and precise.

Johnny and Jaehyun are long but forgotten now, in fact when you're with Mark, it seems as though everything else disappears completely. That's not an understatement, especially not when he's able to fuck you like this, pretty groans leaving his throat, his manhood buried deep inside of you.

You're a whimpering mess and he doesn't have the heart to tell you to quiet down, you're too beautiful like this and you're - "So fuckin' wet for me baby, shit."

You're completely coating his cock in your milky essence, it's smearing the front of his thighs and dripping down his balls. You feel the warmth of mouth against the side of your cheek and realize he's lent over, arms wrapped fiercely around your middle as he rolls his agile hips into you from behind.

"M-Maaark, mmmph." You feel so full, too full and you're not sure what to do with yourself - bouncing back on his length, the back of your thighs meeting the front of his.

"You like being fucked like this baby?" He uses one arm to reach down in between your thighs where the two of you are connected, rubbing circles over your bud as he did earlier. "You want me to have you leaking between your legs with my cum?"

He's filthy, and each word that is spoken through a growl has your belly filling with an unbearable pressure, body lurching with each sharp, sloppy thrust of his hips.

"Y-Yes Markie, make a mess o-oohhhh, out of me."

You've forgotten about the formalities but he's okay with it, in fact the nickname sounds so pretty coming from you, that it makes the drive to fill you with his seed that much more powerful.

"Gonna - fuck, gonna put a baby in you, mmm," he curls his hips and hits a spot inside of you that has your body involuntarily jerking, legs wobbly. "gonna make sure everyone knows who got you all big and swollen."

Even the thought has you barely holding it together, his possessiveness stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you that seem to be building by the second. He stands uo to his full stature and returns to his previous position in an effort to hold you up, sensing that his mouth has you worked up beyond belief.

"You like that baby? Can feel you squeezing around me."

It's sadistic, really. Your eyes aren't even all the way open, the balloon of pressure in your belly swelling and swelling, spreading licks of fire through your nerve endings, causing you to drip onto the bathroom floor with each drag of his cock from your heat.

"Ple-ease don't s-stop, oh fuck, Mark please." You're not making any sense but he understands perfectly, as he always has and always will. Hes not fairing much better, if he's honest, and so he's truly grateful that you're so close to falling apart as he knows he won't be long either.

"Awe, look at you," his voice isn't steady but it's still strong, teasing in its lilt. "you're gonna cum all over my dick aren't you? That's what you wanted all along, couldn't even wait."

You mewl as a reply and he twitches, the end dangerously close with each stroke. He's never felt someone so soft, so warm and wet for him and only him and now you're panting his name, over and iver again as if it's the only word you've ever known.

"Markmarkmark, oh fuck, I'm c-cumming."

A hand clamps over your mouth while you drown in the liquid heat that pulsates through you in rigorous, violent waves; tears brimming in your eyes and knees practically giving out.

Mark manages to keep you steady, to fuck you through your orgasm while your muffled cries seep into his skin like they're made of medicine; and in reality it's probably only seconds after, with you throbbing around his cock, that he feels his orgasm rip through him as viciously as yours rips through you.

You know the signs enough by now to sense it in his body, and despite the fact that you're still loopy, you manage to pull your eyes open just enough to watch him lose it - his body bowing and chest pressing against your front as he pumps himself into you with sloppy thrusts.

His bottom lip almost bleeds with how hard his teeth dig into it, tremors wracking through him while the warmth of his cum fills you from the inside out, and it has an aftershock of orgasmic pleasure moving through the marrow of your bones.

It's not even a moment later when you feel the softness of his kisses against any expanse of skin he can reach, soft smooch sounds accompanied by the flurry of gentle pecks. You feel like you're floating, despite still not being able to move properly.

"My baby, my darling," he sings against your skin and you giggle at the giddiness that radiates from the doe eyed boy, your Mark. He pulls himself out of you and you try not to whine, but ultimately fail, too used to the feeling of him inside of you. "don't pout, gotta clean you up."

Your eyes are closed and the sound of running water pulls you from your momentary reverie, even more so as you feel the warmth of a cloth against your sensitive center; a flush of heat leaving you dangling in the realization of what you two have just done in Johnny and Jaehyun's bathroom.

"Oh fuck." You attempt to bury your face in your arms but Mark stops you, chuckling as if he hasn't got a care in the world while he adjusts your dress to drape over your hips again, pulling you into his chest.

"Shh, it's okay it's okay. We made the place more...more homey - you know?" He teases with a warm chuckle that threatens to tear any worries from your mind, and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, smiling.

"I swear to fuck if they used even one of my brand new wash cloths I'm never inviting them over again." Jaehyun seethes.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ High on hatred ~

Warnings: SMUT, college!au, stoner!jisung, fem!reader, goodstudent x badstudent, illegal substances, fingering, blowjob, aggressivity(?), choking, hairpulling, penetrative sex (stay safe :c), nicknames (babygirl, slut..), hickies, cuddles!

Word count: 3,134 words (ok cherry slow down ffs) 

Requested: yesyes~ thank u anon for requestiiing cc:

Note: ok huge note here! i literally know nothing about drugs/illegal substances (or even legal substances for maybe except my raging caffeine addiction)  (where im from most substances are illegal heh) so please understand if this shits written like shit) also bad boys x good girls is my WEAKNESS since i always want some “bad boy” to wreck my good girl agenda hahahsh 

Jisung wasn’t the most outstanding student in college but somehow you ended up being partners for a group project. The quiet straight A kid with the failing stoner, you could already imagine how this would go. You sat next to him in the lecture hall after your professor had announced the pairs and dreaded introducting yourself but your parents raised you with the belief that kindness comes first so you took a deep breath and said: 

“Hi! I’m y/n” you smiled at him. His gaze met yours, those dark brown eyes were somewhat bloodshot and his aura reeked of smoke. 

“Sup, Jisung” he waved with his thumb, pointer- and middle finger lazily towards you as his gaze scanned your body. You felt a bit uncomfortable by his predatory stare so you shifted in your seat, adjusting the white flowy skirt you had on. 

“Ehm.. so.. how do you want to structure up the project? I was thinking that we could divide the parts by-” you were stopped by his scoff. You looked at him in confusion. This would be much more difficult than you anticipated.

“Come over to my house tonight babygirl” his corny smirk and raspy voice made you want to punch him. Taken aback you turned your head slightly as you said; 

“What? So I can be another one of the girls you fuck?” your blood was boiling. Who does he think he is with his snapback and  dangly silver earrings? 

“Chill, I was thinking about working on the project but you seem to have other plans in mind with me” he smirked, still observing you. 

Your face turned beet red and Jisungs cocky attitude did not help in the slightest. 

“I.. I d-didn’t mean that..” you stuttered but you decided to shut up to not make the situation worse. Jisung reached for the post-it notes that were by your side and wrote something down. He teared it off the pad and just as you stood up, hoping to walk away and never see him again you heard him say;

“Babygirl, come at 7″ he stretched out his arm, hand holding the note. 

You grabbed it aggressively and stomped off as you heard him yell “Come safely babygirl” 

♡ 

On your way home you crumbled up the note and stuffed it in your pocket. You had no intention of meeting him but when you arrived home you reached for the pink note in your pocket as you took off your backpack and sat down in the kitchen. The pink note had his adress on it. The urge to just scream and rip up the note was strong but something stopped you and that was the fact that you needed to get this project done. You were not going to fail because of some stoner. You unpacked your bag and started studying on some of your other courses but the note always lurked in the corner of your eye. 

Hours later you stood infront of your mirror putting different shirts on hangers against your torso, comparing the colors. Being preoccupied with choosing the cutest shirt you didn’t notice the fact that you tried to look your best for Jisung. Eventually you snapped out of your good girl side that always wanted to look presentable. Why do I care about what he thinks of me? You rolled your eyes and put the shirts back into your closet as you took out a sweatshirt and a matching pair of sweatpants. “This will do” you said under your breath as you slipped into the comfortable fabric before you ordered a taxi. 

“Shit better be worth it” you sighed as you clicked “proceed” and saw the sum. You packed your bag with the necessary stationary, threw on a fluffy ivory jacket and grabbed the keys with a jingle. 

You greeted the taxi driver whose taxi stood infront of the apartment complex. Before you headed out you managed to grab the pink note and now showed it to the driver that nodded whilst the soft radio static played in the background. The town looked so peaceful in the evenings, the artificial lights from the thousands of offices reflected in your glistening eyes as you looked out the window. You noticed that your shoulders were tense signaling that you were nervous which was dumb. Why would you be nervous to meet a dirtbag that has the right to call you ‘babygirl’? A shudder cascaded down your spine at the though of that awful nickname, especially when it echoed in your head in Jisungs voice. 

The taxi halted infront of a long block of brick apartment complexes, the nightlife being busy as usual in the big city you resided. A small “thank you” slipped out of your tongue before you opened the car door and were met by the cold breeze. The entrence had grand glas and wood double doors which opened with a loud creek. You looked at the note once again, checking what apartment number the boy lived in. “248″ you muttered as you made your way up the stone staircase. “Found it”, you stood infront of the slightly bashed ivy colored door. Your hesitant fist made it’s way to knock on the door and after 5 nervewracking seconds the tall, slim boy opened the door with a joint between his lips. Smoke was emitting from behind him and the organic scent hit your nostrils. 

“You came babygirl” he leaned against the door frame as he drew in the smoke from the joint and blew it towards you. You coughed and waved your hand infront of your nose, clearing the smoke. 

“What you standing for? Come in” he snapped his head backwards as a sign for you to step in. You looked down and entered the small smoke-filled apartment. He went to his room and you followed behind with small steps observing the disorganised living space that was cluttered with takeout boxes and photos of friends. His room wasn’t any better. Piles of laundry sat everywhere in the small room and the bed wasn’t made. Did he seriously think that the two of you could do the project when there was a mess wherever you looked? He kicked a pile of clothes away from the carpet and threw a cushion from the bed towards you. He sat down on the carpet as he drew in another breath of smoke into his lungs. Reluctantly you sat down on the cushion opposite to Jisung that was dressed in a boxy white t-shirt and black basketball shorts. 

The big bunch of papers that were required for the project came out of your backpack that was sitting beside you. You spread out the papers on the carpet to make sure Jisung could see but he didn’t seem interested. Instead he kept on smoking as he stared at you intentively, that preditory gaze of his returning. As you were about to start talking about the ideas you had he stretched out his hand offering you a puff. You furrowed your eyebrows as a response to his action. 

“No thanks, I don’t do... that..” you said whilst shaking your head gently. 

That teeth-gritting smirk was plastered on his face as he said:

“You sure babygirl? It will help you relax” he heightened his eyebrows at you. 

Normally you would be very stubborn. You never let anyone do something to you that you didn’t like but in that moment you were swooned by his presence. Was it your feelings or the smoke that you had been breathing in? Without thinking twice you grabbed the joint from his hand to which he licked his lips, grinning.

You put it against your lips and puffed deeply, tasting the smoke in your mouth and feeling it spread in your lungs. A loud cough startled Jisung a bit and you passed the joint back to the brown haired boy. Instantly he looked thousands times more attractive. ‘I must be crazy’ you though as you gently shook your head and tried to concentrate at the papers laid out infront of you. In your peripheral view you saw Jisung shift closer to you and you lifted your head up to look at him. There was something intoxicating about him. The way his brown locks hanged over his eyes or how his piercings shined in the light from outside or maybe it was that veiny hand that held the flaming joint. Whatever it was you found yourself leaning closer to him. Just as he hit the joint again, the smoke spreading in his mouth, you attached your light pink lips onto his plump ones. Jisung opened his mouth in the kiss, crashing his tongue on yours which made the smoke enter your mouth. Being to caught up in the moment Jisung put out the joint on the dark wood flooring which probably was a huge fire hazard but did either of you care in the moment? No. 

The kiss was passionate coming from the tremendous amount of sexual tension in the air. Jisung veiny hand cupped your blushing cheek for a second before it snaked around the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the wet sloppy kiss. You broke the kiss for a moment to stand up and Jisung did the same but only for a moment as you were pushed down against the unmade bed. It smelled just like him. The substances he was smoking accentuated his natural smell because of course it wasn’t just weed but tobacco as well. You remembered the countless times he had been smoking a cigarette with his friends outside the college department and the momentary eye contact the two of you made before you hurried off to your other classes. It always seemed like his gaze lingered on you even as you walked away. 

You landed with your hands beside your head. As Jisung hovered above you he held both of your hands in his, pinning you to the bed. The wet patch in your panties was growing simply by seeing him on top of you. He leaned down to kiss you once again, biting so hard on your bottom lip that it almost drew blood. The two tongues fought for dominance but the second his hand crept underneath your sweatshirt you lost, a low whine escape your mouth in defeat. Your heads twisted as the makeout session got a slow but steady pace. His hand was warm but more substantial than you though against your boobs which he squeezed harshly through your white bra. Involuntarily your hand grabs a fist of his hair making him smirk against the kiss.

“Desperate babygirl?” he coaxes you. 

“Desperate to get this over with so we can work on the project” you answer inbetween kisses.

“I think you have a much bigger problem to worry about” he growled and looked down for a split second.

As if the smoke wasn’t enough this just added fuel to the fire, both to the deep red color your cheeks were stained with and the wetness in your panties. His clothes were off in a blink and before you knew it he was pulling away yours as well, leaving you with nothing but your slightly embarrassing pink panties that were decorated with a small animal print. 

“Aren’t you adorable?” he cooed at you as his hand trailed down your torso and plummeted into your panties. 

“Shut up-ahh” your attempt of trying to bring his cocky attitude failed once again when he brutally entered two fingers into your sopping cunt. You couldn’t help but to moan as he started to pump his digits inside of you obviously enjoying the sight of the good girl being demolished beneath his touch. When he started to circle your clit with his thumb you held on to his wrist, digging your nails into his skin in order to stop a loud moan. Jisungs fingertips grazed your g-spot and by this point your small whines turned into breathy moans. 

“I though you didn’t like me?” he said arrogantly.

“I don’t” you tried to keep your composure even though his fingers felt so good inside of you. 

“Judging by your wet cunt you seem to like me very much, babygirl” he said while grabbing a fistful of your hair. You couldn’t argue because if you really hated him why were you so desperate to have his length inside of you? 

Jisungs fingers pulled out of you, your juices covered his digits and as his fingers got closer to your face you opened your mouth and sucked them clean. He harshly pulls you up by your hair, now sitting on the edge of the bed as Jisung stands infront of you. His dick had both girth and length which made your mouth water by just the sight. The red tip was decorated with a bead of precum and as he still held your hair he put the tip against your lips. Instantly you started sucking him off. First you kitten licked the tip of his immense dick being a bit afraid of his size but Jisung got impatient and yanked you by your hair once again, making you take him fully in your mouth and choking. Your eyes burned as they teared up but that didn’t stop you from sucking him off, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head profusely. He didn’t seem too impressed though. 

“I think I found one thing babygirl can’t do. Sucking dick” he grinned as he looked you deep in the eyes for a second before he bucked his hips into your mouth and facefucked you. His length hit the back of your throat everytime he fucked into you but you were to busy looking at his perfect face. Those sinful grunts that came out from his mouth made you rub your thighs in desperation. How could someone you hated look so ethereal with his dick in your mouth? The way sweat beads formed around his temple and coated a couple of those light brown streaks. The way his big hand held your hair tightly and most importantly those sounds. Those lewd sounds that rolled off his tongue. 

He rolled his head back and then looked back at you, catching you staring at him. 

“No I definitely think babygirl likes me. Those loving eyes don’t lie” he uttered, staring at you and stroking a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

As he pulled out you caught your breath and coughed a for bit before you scooted back on the bed, dragging Jisung by his hand which landed him on top of you once again. He seperated your legs with his knee and lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing into you. His girth with the slow movement made you roll your eyes back, the feeling of being filled made you content. 

“Fuck...you feel so tight” he said, brows furrowed as he started to slowly push in and out of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him into a kiss to muffle your moans. The pace steadily increased as you bit his bottom lip while kissing, returning the favor from before that contributed to your swollen lips. When the kiss broke a string of spit seperated your lips as the both of you panted from the thrusts that were becoming more aggressive. You moaned as you gripped onto the bedsheets upon which your knuckles whitened. Jisungs noises turned you on crazily but when he snaked his hand around your neck you could only whine in response. He choked you and held you pinned down stopping you from squirming away.  The other hand was circling your clit which only heightened the pleasure, eyes rolling back into your skull. A squeak erupted from the bed everytime Jisung pounded into your soaked cunt but that wasn’t the only sound. The both of you moaned in unison which fit the sound of skin slapping that was filling the room. You tightly shut your eyes trying to silence a moan but opened them soon after, meeting Jisungs brown orbs. His lids were low from the blunt smoke but that only gave his arrogant attitude a boost. 

You could feel that he was near by the way his dick twitched inside of you. Feeling cocky you decided to clench against his length which also pushed you closer to your own release. He was clearly getting pissed and leaned down to your neck, sucking purple marks onto it which would be impossible to cover up. You whined and squirmed as you needed to go to school tomorrow and couldn’t bear the strange looks from others when your neck was covered in bruises. 

“That’s what you get for clenching around me like a little slut” he growled against your neck as you clenched around him once again earning a moan from him. Now he was getting really close and so were you. His thrusts got harder but sloppier, your boobs bouncing with the pace. You clenched around him one last time and that was the trigger for Jisungs release. The vein on his neck popped up to the surface as his jaw hanged open. Your cunt filled with his warm load which made you cum grip tightly on anything beside you. The both of you rode out the orgasm which made your legs shake and spine bend up from the mattress. Eventually Jisung pulled out leaving you feeling empty with his white cum dripping out of your hole. He layed beside you and panted, chest heaving. You layed there in silence for a minute, only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard in the dark evening. Deciding to clean up the mess he had made you stood up causing the cum to leak down your unstable leg but before you could take a step Jisung grabbed your soft hand and pulled you down onto the bed again. You looked at him in confusion. 

“You weren’t planning on leaving me without any cuddles?” he said with a slightly whining voice.  

You couldn’t believe what you heard. Before another thought could cross your mind you were already snuggled up in his arms, your head against his heaving chest. It was cozy and you felt safe despite that you barely knew him. You stroked his cheek gently as you observed his perfect facial features. Sure, his attitude could use some work but his face had a flawless charm. 

“We should study more often” he muttered against your hair as he kissed you on your head. 

Even if the caring boy was high off his rockers your heart fluttered at his words. You blushed as you snuggled closer to his chest, falling sound asleep in his grasp. 

[shorkbrian]

Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g 

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

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

“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t.  But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect.  How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed.  The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged  with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same  attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before.  A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words.  There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

[starlight-writes-stuff]

Hey lovey! Could I request a mcyt headcanon thing of how they each are in bed?

hi angel , and of course ! as always im sorry this took forever lmao . hope u enjoy (((:

AYO LOOK AT THESE : smut ! rough sex , choking , scratching , hair pulling , breeding / unprotected sex (wrp it b4 u tap it , bbys) , overstimulation , light bondage , i think thats all (:

reblogs are always appreciated <3

dream :

out of all the feral boys dream is the roughest for sure

it's all his gamer rage coming out

he truly has to control himself  / hold back

because he wants to fuck you until you cant remember your own name

but doesnt want to break you

he’s not the biggest fan or foreplay , only because he’d much rather feel you wrapped around him

but he loves to go down on you

would prep you with his fingers because lord knows you’ll need it

and once you started to squirm he’d get so cocky

“if you cant take my fingers , you definitely cant take all of me, baby .”

so many pet names - baby , kitten , pretty girl , bunny , bun , my little whore

he’d make you cum twice on his fingers alone

and wouldn’t fuck you until he was aching for any sort of stimulation

wouldn’t use protection (w your consent !!!)

the thought of his cum deep inside you , painting your insides … it fucks him UP

you KNOW clay would be the motherfucker to slap his dick on your pussy

would groan at the sound of how wet you were for him

he’d run the tip of his cock through your folds and collect your arousal

until you were begging him to fuck you - and even then he’d wait a moment longer

he’d ease in slowly , making sure you felt every single inch 

and would praise the FUCK out of you

“look so pretty taking my cock , bunny”

he’d stop to let you adjust to his length, but he’d be so arrogant as you bucked your hips

“want more , sweet thing ?”

you’d just nod , the pressure building in your tummy too much to produce words

and clay would grab at your chin so fuCKING agressivley

“i asked you a question , whore .”

he would just ruin you (in the most respectful way possible)

you’d cum for the third time within mere seconds

the room would be filled with the sound of harsh , slapping skin

you moans mixing with his - it was like a symphony to him

at some point your legs would go completely limp from the shear amount of pleasure clay was providing

and he’d circle an arm around your hips , holding your body to his as you came yet again

he’d get progressively less vocal as he approached his high , his raspy moans turning to rough growls and groans

and he’d bury himself deep inside of you as he came , muttering scratchy praises into the crook of your neck

as you and clay started to come down together it would be a complete 180

he’d pull out so gently , watching the way his cum dripped out of you

and would press sweet , tender kisses to every inch of skin he could get his mouth on

clay would run soft fingers over every bruise , every mark he left on your skin

admiring his work

he loves the way you look after sex - all fucked out and dewy eyed

would wet a washcloth with warm water and clean you up while murmuring over and over how much he loved you

the two of you would fall asleep pretty quickly after in a tangled mess of limbs

sex with him is quite the workout

george :

gogs <3

i have many thoughts on this subject yall

wakin up in the mornin , thinkin about so many things

would LOVE foreplay

something about being so intimate but not actually fucking is so <3 to him

he loves every single moment of it

starting from when a simple peck turns to something deeper

george’s tongue rolling over yours as he cups a hand under your jaw 

would do the thumb thing™ on your cheek

his free hand would roam up and down the curve of your hips

then up and under your shirt

the way that your breath hitched would make him sh i v e r

and george would start kissing down your neck and over your jaw to your neck

loves hickeys

and biting you

he’d take yall to some place soft if you weren’t already there and start to undress you

adores the action of getting you out of your clothes and insists on taking your shirt off himself

is obsessed w your titties

rolling your nipples between his fingers

sucking on the sensitive nubs , flicking his tongue over them until you could cry from pleasure

then leaves sloppy , hot kisses all the way down your body

is so good with his hands

knows the exact way to curl his fingers inside you

and is very good at keeping a rhythm that pushes you over the edge

but truly have you seen that boys hands because like

he’s all about pleasuring you in bed

it's his number one priority

and he knows your body incredibly well

the boy knows how to make you cum without even trying

yall have experimented and figured out what feels best

and he’s perfected those techniques

on the non physical side of things however

sex with george would be s i n f u l

the things he would say to you …

and in his fucking ACCENT no less

starlight has a voice kink

god he would talk so fucking dirty

the filthiest things falling from his lips as he’s thrusting in and out of you

he’d be so vocal

“just like that , love ,” he’d pant before throwing his head back

his fingers would dig into your hips as his moans turned to whimpers

the two of you would reach your highs one after the other

but george always makes sure that you finish first

sapnap :

we’re just gonna address this right away

daddy kink

(“call me big daddy” , sapdaddy , need i say more ?)

pretty dominant but not necessarily aggressive

more mentally dominant if that makes any sense ???

wants you so far in subspace that you’re all his

dumbification is so hot to him

“baby doll , darlin’ , sweet girl”

degrades you but in a soft way :,)

“look so pretty on my cock , whore”

“my sweet little slut , taking me so well”

spits in your mouth and holds your jaw until you swallow

loves to fuck your throat

literally uses your mouth as his personal fleshlight

hold your hair up for you bc he’s a gentleman

but would rather have it in pigtails

thrusts into your mouth hhhhhhhhhh

wants to see mascara tears and won't stop until he does

loves to give you facials

then takes 1476592837310982 pictures of you like that

his my eyes only on snap is 99% your face painted with his cum

honestly likes to cum anywhere he can see it

tits

backshots

on your stomach

l o v e s your thighs

and yall have absolutely done thigh jobs

would fuck you until you cried then marvel at the look of your tears

because you look so pretty when you’re entirely overwhelmed by pleasure

your face flushed a pretty pink 

eyes watering with crystal clear drops

then would make you cum again

“one more , sweet girl , you can take one more”

and you’d just nod , so deep into subspace that he words were like spells

how could you say no to him ?

aftercare KING though , would take such good care of you

would run you two a warm bath and carry you to the tub

bc lord knows you cant walk after him

and he’d run his hands allllll over your body , soothing any rough marks he may have left

at the end of the day he absolutely worships you

karl : 

karl jacobs , love of starlight’s life

i just think that he <3

karl has stated that he’s on the ace spectrum

so i think that sex with him wouldn’t be near as much about physicality

its about the intimacy and connection that comes with that for yall

and mans would make you feel so loved ,,,

he’d kiss every single inch of your body

and hold you so close to him as you two were getting undressed

loves kisses when yall are shirtless

because he can feel your heartbeat on his

and they sync up the longer u lay there

would go down on you for hours if he could holy fuck

he loves eating you out , drawing pretty moans from your lips

and is so good at it bye .

he can easily make you cum with just his skilled tongue

and fucks you with it i-

one of his favorite feelings in the world is your thighs tightening around his head

and your hands tugging at his hair as he makes you come undone over and over

you’re his favorite taste in the entire world

sex with karl would be sweet and soft and so so so intimate

it would be so loving

he’d have you look him in his eyes as he slid in

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnggngngnngngnngggggggg

and would stay buried deep inside you , not moving  until you adjusted to him

karl’s packing i just know it 

moans your name quite a lot

and murmurs how much he loves you , everything he loves about you inbetween thrusts

he’d hold your hands while you two made love

his grip tightening as he got closer

karl would make DAMN sure you came first

but loves cumming at the same time if you can hold off for him

the two of you would stay like that , chest to chest for a while after your highs

karl still tucked inside you

he’d love cockwarming dont @ me

is a fluffy mess after sex and always wants to fall asleep after

with you in his arms

quackity :

sex with alex >>>>>>

yes

please

he’d be . so fucking good . at everything he did .

alex loves foreplay

lapdances

bc he’s so obsessed with your body

and having you put on a show just for him ?

turns him on like nothing else in the world

lets you show off for as long as possible before he finally picks you up and throws you on the bed

hands hands hands

alex is so skilled with his fingers and knows how to hit all the best spots

has absolutely made you squirt on his fingers and is so cocky about it

has you hold eye contact while he eats you out

and the minute you break it , he stops

would have his dick in your mouth 24/7 if he could

and loves the way you look with your tongue swirling around him

keeps a hand on the back of your head and pushes down so gently

alex is definitely a soft dom

when he cant hold off from fucking you any longer he’s no stranger to tying your hands up

usually with his belt

fucks you in missionary with your legs over his shoulders

but also loves when you're on top

alex is a titty guy

such a boob guy

and absolutely covers your chest in hickeys and bite marks

getting to play with them while you ride him ?? heaven

once your hips give out from feeling so good , alex would lift you up and thrust into you

his fingertips digging into your skin , leaving pretty purple bruises

would play with your clit as he fucks up into you

“cum for me , princess”

loves cumming inside you

breeding kink

just saying

and watching it drip out of your pussy gets him hard all over again

his voice goes so deep while he moans

and calls you pretty names in spanish

vvvv vocal and loves when you match that

“show me how good im making you feel , baby”

[littlesniggy]

Don’t leave me

Anon:I have to agree with the previous anom, Strangers is way too good I'm totally in love 😍🙈 Since your bio say that u like dark themes and u accept requests can u please write for Law, like a dark-smutty-angst idk? 👀 (female reader pls) I'm craving for it... If u not vibe with it it's fine, thank u for your work 🤍

It’s the first time I tried writing angst and it’s not too shabby I think. Law is an asshole and reader is a little bit too obsessed with him hence making a pretty toxic relationship. I hope you like it and I hope it’s angsty enough? Cause I don't know. At least it’s smutty and dark.. 😅🙈

Warning: 18+, abusive relationship, cheating, nsfw, angst(?)

Word count: 2.6k

“Who was the woman you were talking to?” your voice sounded insecure, hands fidgeting and your eyes were focused on the floor. Law looked at you, an eyebrow raised in question and a confused look on his face. “Who are you talking about?” he questioned. “T-the one just now. With the brown hair and big…breasts.” Now Law was even more confused. “Name-ya? She is the doctor of a pirate crew. You’ve met her before, remember? You got along pretty well.” He told you but you couldn’t remember her. “Really?” you whispered, your nervousness taking over your body.

Law sighed and put his hands on your shoulders. “Look at me, Y/n-ya.” He demanded. Slowly, you lifted your eyes and looked at his. His eyes were hard, trying to search for something in your eyes that apparently wasn’t there. “Stop worrying about other women, okay? I have only eyes for you.” You didn’t believe him. You were no pirate and you only saw Law ever so often; sometimes you almost forgot what he looked like, what he smelled like, what he sounded like. All those times he was away you were convinced he found someone new; someone, who was more exciting, more enticing, more….just more.

Laws hands wandered down your arms and stopped at your hips, pulling you closer. “Believe me, Y/n-ya. I would never, ever cheat on you.” His thumbs were circling your hipbones, giving you a warm feeling and you felt a little more at ease. You nodded, leaning your head against his muscular chest. Your doubts, however, were still present. He could make you feel a little more secure in your relationship but only until the next train of thought hit you – and it always hit you hard.

“C’mon, Y/n-ya. Stop thinking so much about things that are only in your mind and let’s enjoy the time we can spent together, okay?” You listened to his words and to the voice rumbling through his chest. You nodded again but didn’t look up at him. His hands traveled to your back, rubbing it in comfort.

Your muscled relaxed and you could finally breathe a little more freely. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing him closer against your body, feeling his warm through your thin shirt, his hot breath on the top of your head, and his calm presence around you. “I love you, Law.” You mumbled against his chest, now slowly lifting your face to look at him. He smiled a little and bend down, kissing you on your lips with his warm lips. “I know.” He replied and then pushed you gently towards your bed, making you sit and then lay on it, kneeling above your body.

You bit your lip, pulling him down again for another, now more heated kiss. Your doubts slowly were pushed to the back of your mind only to be pulled back later again. His hand travelled down your side and moved under your shirt, caressing your naked skin underneath. It made you giggle into the kiss at the feeling and you squirmed under him since you were really ticklish. Law smiled against your lips and then moved his down, along your jawline and to your neck where he started sucking and licking on your delicate skin, leaving a purple mark. Then, he moved to the other side and repeated this action, making you sigh in pleasure.

His hand had found your boob in the meantime and massaged it gently through your bra, making you moan quietly. It felt good; his touch, his breath, his lips – everything made you feel lightheaded. And you anticipated the moment he filled you up with his dick. Your own hands travelled over his chest‚ feeling the hard muscles under your touch. His pelvis pressed down against yours and you could feel his erection through his pants. An excited feeling rushed through your veins and you moved against his clothed sex.

“L-Law…” you gasped as he bit down on your neck, pressing your body against his. “L-let me…let me suck you off…” he moved back and looked down at you, pupils dilated due to the the arousal. “Y/n-ya….” He said breathlessly but smiled at you. He moved down from you and laid down next to you. You sat up, looking over at him. You moved between his legs and put your hands on the button of his waistband, opening it and pulling his pants along with his underwear down, exposing his erect member.

After you removed his shoes, his clothes were thrown off the bed to not bother you anymore. Your eyes traveled up his legs, his muscular thighs and almost missed the little red mark close to his most private area – almost. Your eyes darkened and you got down, put a hand on his leg and pushed it to the side to have a better view of it. Law looked at you confused and propped himself up und his arms, wanting to know what happened.

“What’s this?” you asked, voice strained, your eyes glistering. “What is what?” he followed your eyes and sighed. “It’s nothing, Y/n-ya.” He said, letting himself fall back on his back. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing! That’s a hickey! You are cheating on me!” tears spilled down your cheeks and your body started trembling. “Why are you lying to me, Law?” your voice was high pitched, vision blurry. Law sounded annoyed at this point. “So what, Y/n-ya?” You looked up at his words, your heart started to clench tightly. “So what if it’s a hickey? So what if a had someone else suck me off while I was away? Can’t expect me to wait until I get back here, can you? Just thought it would’ve disappeared by now. That was a miscalculation on my part, sorry. You weren’t meant to see it.” He crossed his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.

You didn’t know what to say. This whole time you worst fear was Law getting hurt, Law not coming back, Law….finding someone else. All those times you have accused him of cheating you were actually right? He’s always told you not to worry, that he’d only love you and would always wait for you no matter what. Your body was frozen in place, tears silently running down your cheeks and dropped down on your chest. Your eyes were still fixated on this small, red mark on his thigh, the visible proof he wasn’t faithful.

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.” Flabbergasted, you looked over at his face. He wouldn’t leave you? “C’mon, Y/n-ya. You wanted to suck me off, then get on with it. Just ignore the hickey.”

A loud smack echoed through the room, Law’s cheek slowly turning pin but his eyes were still set on the ceiling. You didn’t know where you took the courage from slapping him but you regretted it instantly. “Was that it? Are you done behaving like a child, Y/n-ya?” Law’s eyes moved over to where you were sitting, unimpressed with your slap. Angrily, you started smacking him again and again, eyes shut closely, rage and hurt fighting inside your body to see which emotion would take over.

You didn’t notice how Law sat up and grabbed your wrists, his grip tight and unforgiving. “Y/n-ya!” he yelled, making you stop moving and looking at him. “Stop it!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you bastard! You’re a cheater, a lowlife, a-!” but he cut you off. Your cheek hurt, your face was facing to the side and the feeling of his hand still on your skin. He hit me. The shock sat deep, your arms going limp in his grip.

“If you behave like a brat, I will treat you like one. I said I won’t leave you and I know you won’t leave me. So, get over it and be a good little girlfriend. You promised me a blowjob and I want it. Now.” His voice was even and somewhat monotone; no yelling, no anger, just his usual tone. “B-but-“ but he cut you off with a kiss, his tongue forcing itself into your mouth, exploring your wet cave. He pulled you closer, pressing your body against his and rubbing his exposed dick against your clothed thigh, groaning into the kiss.

Your thoughts were running wild, you couldn’t think straight. On one hand you were heartbroken; your body hurt, your soul was shattered at this revelation. But on the other hand, did he say he wouldn’t leave you. Did he lie? But he’s always come back to you, regardless of who he has been with before; he always came back to you. You needed him. Every time he was away from him you thought about him and you arched for him to come back.

You haven’t even realized how you reciprocated the kiss and moaned against his body, feeling his dick rub against your thigh. “Law….” You gasped, breaking away from his passionate lips. “Law….don’t leave me, okay? I don’t wanna live without you.” You pleaded, eyes still teary from crying. Law smiled at you and out a hand on top of your head. “I won’t, Y/n-ya. I know you need me.” You felt him push your head down to where his dick was until you were eye level with his mushroom head.

Your eyes caught on to the red mark again but you tried to ignore it. Law was here, with you. Whoever left this mark would never make him feel the way you could make him feel. You closed your eyes and closed your lips around the head of his dick, twirling your tongue around it and sucking on it lightly. You heard him sigh in relief and it made your body tingle in excitement. His huge hand rested on the back of your head, massaging your scalp but pressing you further down in the process. Your jaw widened with each inch you took him in, your tongue gliding down the underside of his shaft, feeling the vein running along under the soft skin.

His abs tensed as you started bobbing your head up and down, sucking on his dick. “Y/n-ya.” He gasped, his grip on your head tightening a little. His reaction made you feel wet between your legs and you moved your hips up and down together with your head to mimic the movement. Your hand travelled over his thigh, then down to his balls and gently fondled them in your palm, squeezing them from time to time. You knew he liked it and you had to think if the other person (you refused to believe there could be more than one other person) could give him head as well as you could.

You took him in deeper, down your throat and started swallowing down on him, making him groan in pleasure from your action. Your saliva coated his dick and dripped out of your mouth, making the sounds of your mouth around his dick wetter and dirtier. You couldn’t help yourself and moan quietly around his dick, swallowing his pre-cum like it was the most delicious juice. “That’s my Y/n-ya. Always eager to please me. That’s what I love about you.” You widened your eyes at his words, then started picking up your pace. ‘That’s what I love about you.’ Those words flooded your mind like a tsunami and made you feel high. He wouldn’t say such a thing to anyone else, right?

He grabbed your hair and pulled you off his dick, making you whine a little at the loss of him inside your mouth. “You want my dick so badly, Y/n-ya?” you nodded, lips slightly open, saliva and pre-cum coating them. “Take off your clothes for me, will ya?” he asked and before he had even finished his sentence did you start taking off your shirt, followed by your bra, shoes, pants and panties, leaving you completely exposed in front of him. He took a nipple between his teeth and teased them, making you moan in pleasure. He knew exactly what to do to you, his hands wandering down your back to your ass, squeezing your cheeks with his warm hands. He pulled them apart before moving one of his fingers to your entrance, making you press against his touch. “You want it here?” he murmured against your breast, pressing against your rim with his finger.

“A-anywhere is fine, Law.” You panted. You felt his smile against your skin before he pushed you away, looking at you. “The be so kind and get in position.” He asked but it was more like an order. “Of course.” You answered and turned around, laying down on your stomach before pulling your ass up high in the air. Your hands moved to your cheeks and spread them like Law did earlier. The warlord licked his lips at the sight and positioned himself behind you, eager to follow your invitation.

You felt the tip of his dick at your entrance; his hands replaced yours at your cheeks and instead you started rubbing your clit. “Here I go.” Was the only warning you got before he pushed himself inside your tight ass. A deep groan left his mouth and he closed his eyes. You let out a slightly painful squeak but wouldn’t complain. He was here, with you, and he had said he loved you – more or less. But that was enough.

Law gave you some time to adjust before he started moving. His thrusts were slow but deep. He knew he couldn’t just go all out, especially when he did not prepare you whatsoever. But he also knew your body good enough to know that you could take him like this if he only gave you enough time.

He bent down, his mouth right next to your ear while he slowly picked up the pace. His hot breath was coming out erratically, ghosting the side of your face. “That’s my Y/n-ya. Taking me on so well. Do you like it when I take you in the ass?” you mewled and moved your hips against his movements in response as a sign you were ready for more.

Law grinned and kissed your neck almost sweetly; his hips started to slam against your ass, rocking your body forth and back. Small moans filled the room paired with his low grunts. It felt good; the feeling of his dick inside you alone had your pussy dripping and you soon didn’t need to pay attention to your clit anymore and could focus on the feeling inside your ass.

“D-do I make you feel good, Law?” you gasped, trying to look at him over your shoulder. As a response he straightened his back again until he was kneeling behind you in an upright position and pulling you up with him. Your back was pressed against his warm torso, his muscular arm wrapped around your belly, his other hand fondling your breast and his dick moved inside of you. He started nibbling at the shell of your ear, his hoarse voice making you shiver.

“You make me feel so good, Y/n-ya. I will never leave you.” You moaned in response, closing your eyes. “As long as you let me do as I please.” He added. You opened your eyes slightly, hurt reflecting in your eyes but he couldn’t see it. “You can do whatever you want. Just don’t leave me, Law.” You replied. Yes, you would never complain to him again. It was better to be hurt than without him. You couldn’t live without him. You wouldn’t live without him. You’d rather be dead than know he wouldn’t come back.

[nalgenewhore]

storm

essar x lorcan, alternate canon au, domestic fluff, word count: 1556

Outside, the storm rages. The windows and cupboard doors rattle, the noise forcing tension to crawl up her spine. Essar sighs softly and turns over again, just as a clap of thunder erupts in the skies above. The female startles, immediately reaching for her bedmate.

As she stretches towards him, she hesitates, her eyes tracking over his slumbering face. He’s been so tired lately, what with all their preparations for the winter. She shouldn’t bother him, she thinks. With another sigh, Essar returns to her spot and tucks her hands beneath her pillow. She closes her eyes, but the flash of lightning is bright and they open a moment later.

She curses into her pillow, frowning in annoyance. Essar peeks out at her mate, who has hardly moved, except to rub the tip of his nose and wrinkle his brow. She turns her head and watches him, silent. Something in her chest calms as she continues staring at Lorcan, but she knows that sleep will still evade her. Carefully, the Fae gets up from her bed and pads across the mat-covered floor to the door of their bedroom.

Essar slips through the door and walks down the hall, Lorcan’s shirt falling to her mid-thighs. Her bright eyes trail over their cosy cabin, seeing the fire that glows in the coals of their fireplace. Before it, on a soft wolf pelt rug, her clothes are still laying rumpled from their… frenzy. A smirk pulls at her plump lips and Essar scurries into the kitchen, her body recalling his warmth. After her tea, she’ll curl up next to him and his presence will soothe her back to sleep.

The storm attempts to shake the house, but it doesn’t bother her as much anymore. Essar feeds kindling and larger pieces of wood into the oven, summoning her flame to set it alight. The heavy kettle is still halfway full, so she won’t need to fetch water for it. She puts it down on the metal surface and takes a mug down from the shelf.

She spins to the island counter, where they keep a collection of various everyday dried herbs to make their drinks. There’s a hand-sized mortar and pestle next to the collection. Essars plucks a small jar from the neat row and pries the cork off with an audible ‘pop’. She tilts it to the side, trying to determine how much of the tea blend is left.

A week or so ago, they traveled to the nearest village to stock up on supplies that were hard to come by, like specialty dried flowers and roots, dairy products like butter and a dozen pints of goat milk, eggs, flour, and sugar too. Their pantry is well stocked and Essar knows they don’t need to worry about starving over the colder months.

She takes a small linen bag and shakes some of the blend into it, then ties the drawstring closing shut and puts it in her cup. While she waits for the kettle to boil, Essar keeps her eye on the weather outside, watching it whip at their sheet-covered crops. A slight frown graces her brow. She doesn’t like to see their plants so abused.

It doesn’t take long for the kettle to boil. When its steam billows in the air, Essar lifts it off of the stove and carefully fills her cup a few centimetres beneath the rim. Then she lets it steep for a few moments as she hunts for the honey. She knows her love has hidden it somewhere. It’s a joking habit of theirs, wanting to keep the sticky-sweet treat all for themselves.

Essar finds the jar quickly and takes the teabag out. As she stirs in some honey, she hears steady footsteps tracking across the wood floor, made audible so that she isn’t scared moments later. Two big, tattoo-covered arms circle around her waist and his head comes down to rest his face in the crook of her shoulder. “Essar,” Lorcan grumbles, clearly displeased from waking up to an empty bed. He sniffs and presses his lips to the curve of her neck, his lips brushing against her, “S’matter, love?”

“Nothing,” she murmurs back, resting her free hand on his forearm. “Just can’t sleep. The storm.” Essar stirs in her honey and turns to look at him. Lorcan’s eyes are shut and she grins, leaning back against him. She loves the way his shoulders curl around her, protecting her.

He hums, “Why didn’t’cha wake me?”

“You… you were sleeping. And you’ve been working so hard lately.” Heat blooms across her crescent-shaped cheeks, knowing that he’ll think her reasons ridiculous. The male leaps at chances to comfort her and fuss over her. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Lorcan gently nips at her soft brown skin, his elongated canines scratching harder than the others. “You could never bother me, Tangaroa.”

She smiles and turns her head to kiss his temple, “Alright, darling. Would you like some tea?”

He sighs through his nose and lifts his head, humming lowly. “No, s’alright. Just wondered where ya were.” Lorcan taps Essar’s hip so she’ll turn and she does, her tea cupped between both hands. Lovingly, with such care, he brushes her wavy hair back and kisses her forehead, “Is it the storm?” His mate has never taken well to them. Storms don’t frighten her, per se, they simply disrupt her sleep and are a tiresome, stress-inducing nuisance.

Essar nods, “Yes. Come sit with me.” She reaches behind her to take one of his hands and neatly spins out of his arms, leading him to their living room. They bypass the large couch in favour of the armchair. It’s a snug fit, what with Lorcan’s towering stature. Essar is not a small being either – the top of her head comes just past his chin. Her legs are across his lap, her backside on the cushion beside his left thigh. Lorcan rests a hand on her thigh and eases his other arm around her waist, his fingers splayed across her ribcage.

She laughs when she sees his eyelids drooping and kisses the bridge of his nose, “Tired, are we?”

He smiles softly and nods. Blinking hard a few times, Lorcan sits up straight and strokes his thumb over her side as Essar sips on her sweetened tea. “Gimme a sip,” he implores her, nudging his chin towards her mug.

Essar smirks and arches a brow up while she moves her drink away from him. “Thought you said you didn’t want any.”

His grin widens, showing her those dishy dimples that they both know she’s weak for. “Just a wee bit, my love.” She rolls her eyes and concedes, letting him have a taste. In thanks, Lorcan kisses the curve of her shoulder before resting his chin atop her head.

She nestles into him and clicks her tongue, “Ya big thug. Stealing your mate’s tea. How shameful.”

Lorcan huffs a laugh through his nose and winds his fingers through her hair, his neat nails scratching her scalp. Essar melts instantly, near purring as her eyes become hooded and gently slip shut. Unseen by her, the male smiles a pleased smile, pride sparking in his chest at the sight of the female he adores happy under his care. Her lashes flutter as she opens her eyes, staying curled where she is, and finishes her tea slowly.

He takes her empty mug and puts it on the end table, right next to a stack of books. “Feeling ready to sleep now?” Lorcan asks her softly, petting her hair gently. Essar hums and kisses the underside of his jaw.

“Yes, but… only if you… carry me,” she whispers, voice drowsy and sweet.

“Of course,” Lorcan tells her, hooking his arm beneath her knees and the other across her shoulders. He cradles her against his chest and stands smoothly, walking across the cabin. The storm seems to have lessened in its intensity, the strikes of lightning softer, the rolling of thunder gentler.

He bumps the door open with his hip and kicks it shut, remembering to not use full force. Essar is seconds away from true slumber, he can feel it as she becomes heavier and heavier in his arms, relaxing into him. He won’t do anything to jeopardise her rest.

The layered blankets and quilts on their bed are rumpled, pushed to the foot of the mattress. Lorcan sets Essar down and eases himself beside her. She makes a noise in the back of her throat and shifts closer to him as he pulls the covers over them.

Essar fits herself against him, stretching her arm across his waist and hitching her leg over his hip. Her head is rested against his chest. Lorcan runs his hand down her side and fits his hand in cradle above her hip, making the shirt she’s wearing bunch up. He rubs his thumb over her waist and she hums again, shifting so that her chest is cushioned against his.

He buries his face in her hair, smelling her gentle sea salt and tiare blossom scent. “I love you, Ess.”

More asleep than not, his mate mumbles an incomprehensible jumble of words, but he smiles all the same, knowing exactly what she’s saying. With all that I am, and with all that I ever will be.

<3<3<3

an: i realise i dont have a taglist for this so......im going to tag a couple people who i know appreciate essar n lorcan <3 let me know if u want to b added for future writings !

@sassyhobbits @hellasblessed @ladyverena

[bluemoonbeam15]

After whatever happened with the bird, Hopper awakes somewhere as a human guy. What will happen now?

Okay, so I was just gonna write out this little drabble but then my brain was like, "WE GOTTA DRAW IT!"

So...here you go XD

My humanized version of Hopper!

This took me so long so I didn't do Flik even though I wanted to. But enjoy this and the fanfiction!

I'm adding Flik in it as well for more plot development.

<><><><><><><><>

"H-Hopper!"

"You think this is over?" The grasshopper stalked toward him, the lightning illuminating his rage. Flik vainly pleaded as Hopper drew closer, eventually trapping him beside the bird's nest. He hoped Hopper wouldn't realize their situation before it was too late. "All your little stunt did was buy them time!" He wrapped his hands around the ant's neck, "I'll be back next season with more grasshoppers...but you won't!"

Just as Flik felt close to collapsing, Hopper's grip loosened when a chirp sounded above them. "Is this another one of your tricks?" he sneered down at the ant.

Flik grinned, "Yep," he choked out.

"Are there a bunch of girls in this one too? Hello girls!" The screech from the bird blew back his antennae. Flik desperately wished he could have drowned out that noise. It would bring him nightmares tonight if he survived this. Hopper screamed and released Flik. The bird jumped before both of them as the grasshopper slipped on the ground to get away.

The ant shrieked when the bird's beak came crashing down just inches away from him. He had to get out fast. The bird straightened a moment and closed in on the two. Flik tried pushing himself off the ground, but Hopper hadn't noticed his form and fell back over him.

"Atta run!" Flik called toward the rock he'd left her behind. The bird's beak slammed down close to them again. Flik was suddenly pulled back just as it tore the ground where he lay. He glanced back to see Hopper scrambling to get up, gripping Flik's arm to pull him up as well. "Let go of me!" He resisted whatever it was the grasshopper was trying to do. Feed him to the bird, most likely.

The bird screeched again and Flik stumbled as Hopper drug him toward the cliff. "What are you doing?" he tried digging his feet in the ground but Hopper was far too strong from build and fear to notice the drag. The bird lifted into the air and sheathed its claws. It grazed against Flik's other arm just as Hopper jumped off the cliff.

Flik screamed when his feet didn't land on anything solid. He looked down at the rising waters, the currents becoming torrent as the wind picked up. At this point, the waters were deep enough to drown both of them. For the first time, Flik was praying Hopper didn't let him go. He grappled the air until he had both arms wrapped around Hopper's, eyes darting between the river and the bird.

It took off in their direction, knocking Hopper off course from its wings. He struggled to keep the both of them airborne while the wind threatened to knock him off balance. Flik felt his grip loosen and he screamed, "Hopper! I'm begging you! Please don't do this!" He was certain the grasshopper was going to drop him into those waters at any moment.

Hopper yanked Flik up by the arms, baring his teeth, "Shut up so I can concentrate!" A drop of water crashed down on his back, causing his wings to falter. The two no sooner went hurtling toward the river, crashing into the waves.

The ant fought to find a sense of direction. Which way was up? Which was down? Where was the bird? Where was Hopper? Something wrapped around his waist, pulling him. Flik screamed. Was he getting pulled to the bottom? He was going to drown! He gasped when air filled his lungs and he blinked the water from his eyes. Flik coughed, whirling his head around to find the bird. It must have flown back to its nest.

Whatever had a hold of him pulled him through the currents until soft sand was felt beneath his feet. He was dropped suddenly onto the ground and the ant tried catching his breath. He held his head in pain, everything still blurred around him. It was then he remembered that Hopper was still around. Hopper couldn't have been the one who rescued him, could he?

Flik turned his head wearily and gasped at the sight. He scrambled back in fear at the monster before him. What was a human doing this far out in the country? The man was coughing, down on his hands and knees as he struggled to regain his bearings. He drug a hand down his face before pausing in the action. He drew his hand back...

It took a few heartbeats before it registered and the man screamed, looking over his body. "W-What happened to me?" Strange, it almost sounded like...

"H...Hopper?" Flik cautiously asked, not daring to move lest the human attack.

The man looked up in response before taking a few steps back from Flik, "You...Y-You're..."

Flik's heart dropped and he hesitated to lift his hand up. His breath quickened as his eyes trailed down his new form, "What's happening?"

"How should I know?" Hopper growled. He looked out over the raging river, "Something happened while we were in that river. Now..." he shuddered as he looked down at his body, "we're...human."

Despite the circumstances, Flik felt anger boiling inside him. The previous events were not lost on him. "What were you thinking? Running off the cliff like that! Are you insane?"

"Hey! I was trying to get us out of there! You and your stupid little girlfriend flew right toward that bird's nest, so don't even blame this on me! You should've been paying attention to where you were going!"

"I knew exactly where I was going!" Flik finally stood with his fists balled. Even as a human, Hopper stood a good foot or two taller than him.

Hopper blinked, reeling back for a second. "You...intentionally flew toward the nest?"

It felt almost like a punch in the gut for Flik. Did...Hopper not realize Flik's plan? Looking at his confused face, it almost seemed like Hopper thought the entire event was an accident. "I...," he lost that rage in him suddenly.

Apparently, it had been given to Hopper. The gras--er...man snarled and stalked closer to Flik, "That was your little idea? Feed me to the bird? What kind of--"

"Now hold on!" Flik had found his voice just moments prior to this freak show, and it was about time he decided to use it. "You're not innocent here! You were going to strangle me! Before that, squish me! I wish you'd gotten eaten by that bird! It's what you deserve after everything you've put this colony through!"

Hopper grabbed Flik by his wrists, coming nose-to-nose with the boy, "Believe me, kid, I could've done worse things to you and your stupid colony," he growled. "The only reason you're still alive right now is because I saved your sorry abdomen."

Flik kept his mouth in a fine line. There were so many things he'd kept pent up over the years that he dreamed of having the guts to say to this brute. Now he found himself struggling to even look him in the eye after he found a backbone. But they had bigger problems than the tension still resting between them, "We need to figure out how to change back," he stated quietly.

The rain was still pouring down heavy, only this time the droplets did no harm to them. Hopper reluctantly let go of Flik's wrist and brushed the wet strands of hair from his face, "I have an idea." Before Flik knew it, he was scooped up in Hopper's arms and flung into the river. The boy spit out the water in a panic before realizing he could now stand in the water.

He whirled on the man, "What the heck?" Flik brushed back his drenched, blond hair.

"Well, so much for that." Hopper deadpanned. "Looks like both of our plans failed."

Flik took his foot and kicked it against the water, splashing Hopper, "You're a real brute, you know that? Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

"What? Like that bird, you wanted to feed me to?" Hopper wiped the water from his face angrily. "The only reason we're in this situation is because of you!"

The boy stumbled out of the river, "You were the one who was oppressing us!" Something was unraveling in Flik. All the events that had transpired were fueling this rage he'd kept stuffed deep inside him. Flik began picking up rocks and throwing them at Hopper, "Every...single...year...we had to go on the brink of starvation! All because you and your greedy hoard of grasshoppers couldn't do it yourselves! A bunch of lazy...good for nothing--!" Hopper twisted the boy's arms behind him, pinning Flik against him, "Let go of me!"

"You don't think we tried getting food for ourselves? How easy do you think it is to harvest in the middle of the desert?"

Flik slammed his foot down on Hopper's causing the man to growl and push the boy to the ground. "Then go live somewhere else!" He struggled as Hopper loomed over him, pinning Flik's arms to the ground.

"There are predators everywhere else! The only place bigger bugs can survive is in the middle of nowhere! In places too dead for anything bigger than us to live! We risked our lives coming here to collect that offering!"

"Well, congratulations, you're such a hero!" Flik snapped back. "I'm sorry you're just a big coward who pushes around anyone weaker than you, just to make yourself feel better!"

With only two arms now, Hopper found strangling the kid more difficult since he was trying to keep him pinned down. "Says the one who was going to let a bird do all his dirty work of killing me off!" Hopper pulled the boy to his feet, keeping his arms pinned behind him. He forced him toward the water, "I oughta drown you right now," he pushed Flik down on his knees toward the water.

"Stop!" he strained against Hopper, "We have to find a way back! I know you don't plan on figuring it out yourself!"

Hopper let go of Flik's head, contemplating his actions. "And who says I need your help?"

"B-Because we have no idea what will happen to us now if we stay like this." He craned his neck to look up at the man, "You really want to risk being out here alone? Humans are monsters, Hopper, you know that. They kill each other all the time. You might end up finding one who can pin you down."

As much as the thought of being subdued angered him, Hopper bit down on his growl. "Fine," he released the boy with a shove and walked back along the shore. "So what's your plan now, genius?"

Flik couldn't believe he was considering teaming up with this guy. Death sounded almost promising as he watched Hopper scrutinize him. "Let's go find Ant Island. It can't be too far from here."

"And do what? Squish them?" Hopper sneered.

Flik took that comment more seriously than Hopper intended it. He rounded on the man, "If you even think about killing them--"

"Relax, kid, learn to take a joke once in a while," he flicked the side of the boy's head. Walking past him, "Let's go find the island, then."

<><><><><><><><><>

This was actually really fun to write! I hope it was what you were expecting, Anon. I kinda didn't know where to go with the idea so I just expanded upon a plot already given in the movie. Sorta like another 'What If' scenario.

[airi-p4]

While it lasts

This was supposed to be kind of a S4 theory about akumatized Luka + a canon-verse Lukanette approach. I guess my hand slipped?  This is similar to my previous fic ‘Betrayer’, in which Juleka was the akumatized one. 

Warning: ANGST.

AO3 _________________________

"Jagged Stone is your father" Anarka had just told her twin children.

Luka's world was shattered into pieces.

Jagged Stone. His favorite musician. His inspiration. His mother's old music partner.

Their father.

One word occupies his mind: abandoned.

And the image of him takes a 180 degree turn. From admiration to despise.

His idol abandoned him. Him and his sister. His mother too.

Why?

He hates it. He hates all of it.

He hates it so much, not even his girlfriend Marinette can calm him down like she usually does. Not even her sympathetic voice or her sweet heart melody can heal him. Neither could her hand pressed on his in comfort.

Juleka's mind had gone blank for some seconds. Memories of how fond Luka was of Jagged Stone occupying her mind. 'Cool', she thinks, and then she focuses on her brother, who is clearly in shock.

In silence. In a trance.

He can't hear anything anymore, she realizes, after noticing how he isn't paying attention to either Marinette's, her mother's or her own calls.

His heart song is strident, loud, noisy- And his eyes lose all his light, all his kindness too.

'Abandoned'

This word keeps spiraling in his mind. On repeat. In an infinite loop.

"Luka!" He hears Marinette's voice call him in alert, finally making him snap out of it and find the strength to fight the akuma that just entered his guitar.

“Marinette… Don’t abandon me…” he begs, holding her while fighting not to lose control and fall under Shadow Moth's control.

“I won’t”, she assures him, clearly supporting him. She keeps encouraging him not to fall into the darkness of the dark butterfly.

Her melody is sincere. So sincere she can’t hide her still unburied feelings for certain blond hair and green eyes that make her heart flutter. And he can see it: the moment that is bound to happen, the moment Marinette will break up with him to go to Adrien. The moment all walls separating them will collapse and they will meet each other in the tangled maze of secrets they’re currently trapped in. The crumble of the castle that allowed him the miracle to have her by his side at this moment.

“You won’t” he whispers, feeling his biggest fear close: Silence- loneliness.

Abandoned.

His arms tighten around her, holding her even closer, impeding her from moving. He pulls her so close he's even hurting her a little. Marinette slightly protests in a cry, but she’s more emotionally affected than physically. "Luka-!"

She's scared.

She wants to assure him she’s honest. She wishes to be able to give him all her love, her existence-

And his newly appeared akuma form is willing to take it all.

His guitar is now a big fish net, his body has grown 3 times bigger and his looks are similar to a sea God. ‘Glaucus’, he calls himself. The name of the God of the fishermen in Greek mythology. His hair is longer, and his belly has become a transparent fish tank, where he plans to keep his loved ones, both safe and close so they don’t abandon him.

Punishment for the ones who abandon, lie and betray.

Protection for the loved ones.

'Justice', he calls it.

He doesn’t even need a big fish tank, because his loved ones are limited. A countable number of individuals is enough for him: Marinette, his mother, his twin sister, the rest of Kitty Section… Mylène too, maybe, since he would feel bad for Ivan if he left her out of it. And he would consider Marinette's family too, since he knows how much she appreciates them.

As for punishment? It's also clear: Jagged Stone comes first, followed by Lila Rossi among others who have dared to hurt his loved ones, such as Chloe Bourgeois and Bob Roth.

Marinette trembles at the vision after he finally lets her go of her to grab his fish catching instrument. A tear escapes her eye, and slides to fall from her chin. And then she runs: because that’s the only way she can help him: run, transform, defeat him and fix the damage she will fight to prevent from happening.

But she's ignoring the most important fact. The fact that that's exactly the action which will lead to her down fall, the sight that frightens Luka the most: Marinette turning her back to him, leaving him all alone.

His song abandoning him.

Rage, pain and despair fills his heart, unable to be contained with his meditation or her music. The music he himself turned into a loud mess, sounding just like nails scraping on a chalkboard, painful to his ears and his soul.

And that’s when he traps her, his net capturing her and turning her into a small, bright pink colored mermaid, he literally swallows to get her inside the fish tank he carries inside his transparent glass made belly.

A relieved sigh leaving his throat: Marinette is now secured. She won't leave his side again. ‘Who’s next…?’ He questions himself, looking at his horrified mother, Anarka as he smirks. He'll soon have all of them in his treasured fish tank.

And what will happen to those who deserve punishment? Fish out of the water- dry fins gasping for oxygen. Dead fish with eyes as cold as their hearts. Or even better- Jagged is going to be abandoned on his own before that- just like he cold-heartedly abandoned him and his sister.

And now that he mentions it… 'Where's Juleka?'

The akuma looks for her, but he doesn't see her around. 'She can wait' he decides, his chants summoning a big sea wave to carry him to his unwanted father's hotel suite.

__________

Jagged Stone can't believe his eyes. An akuma claiming to be his son has just turned Penny into a goldfish, who is now struggling with tiny desperate jumps for oxygen to breathe through her newly acquired fins. Impossible without water. Fang is next to join Jagged's personal assistant, now tiny and convulsing.

"Who are you!? Why are you doing this!? I have no kids!! Don't lie!! Stop this! Turn them to their original forms! They could die!" The rock star angrily begs under Glaucus lashes.

"You're the one who is lying! My mother never lies, so you are the one lying when you say you have no children! You're the one who abandoned us!" He yells as angry as Jagged. "All the admiration and respect I had for you is now hate and disgust! You deserve punishment for the sake of Justice!"

"Stop right there, mermaid boy. Didn't we already make it clear what the difference between revenge and justice was when you were 'Silencer'?" Chat Noir joined the battle, protecting Jagged from being crushed under the akuma's weapon.

The akuma attacks again, but this time he's stopped by someone else. Someone Chat Noir brought along with him- a new superhero.

_______

During the time Marinette was trapped, Tikki, safe and sound, had carried a Miraculous to Juleka, who was watching terrified at how the events developed on TV. She was too focused to notice the kwami, but she clearly noticed the box that fell on her hand out of nowhere. Reaching it, she curiously opened it, and a magical creature appeared in front of her.

"Hi there! I'm Roarr. It's nice to meet you, Juleka!" The little tiger introduced himself.

"What are you? What's going on?" Juleka questioned.

"I'm a kwami. I grant powers! Put on that jewelry and call for the magical words to transform into a superhero"

"Me? A superhero like Ladybug? I don't think I can-" she nervously mumbled, unconfident.

"The guardian chose you for this mission! You want to save your brother, right?" Juleka nodded. "Then say the words: Roarr, transform me"

"Roarr, transform me" Juleka said, and magic surrounded her. Her new appearance was purple with tiger-like orange colored stripes over her body. Her mask was the same colors of the suit, and a pair of tiny ears decorated her now tied hair, her ponytail loose in the wind.

Moments later, she ran towards the hotel, unknowingly followed by Ladybug's kwami.

And the battle started.

________________

"Luka! I know you're hurt, but Jagged is telling the truth! He never abandoned u- you! He never knew he was a father! He probably doesn't even know by now!" The new hero desperately yelled.

"Lies! All lies! He deserves punishment! And you do too!" The akuma points at the heroes and Jagged who is hiding behind them.

"I'll show you the truth!" The tigress announces, calling for her superpower.

Her claws become shiny and with one touch, she marks an ‘X’ on Jagged's forehead, and a purple cloud comes out of his mouth and surrounds them, as if they had just entered his dreamland- except it's, in fact, the rock star’s memories.

Luka is in denial. It is true. Jagged Stone never knew about them. Which means he abandoned them unknowingly. Was he innocent, though?

No, he wasn’t. Because he had indeed abandoned his mother.

_______

Meanwhile, Marinette had been trying to find a way out of the fish tank. She couldn't transform into Ladybug even if Tikki was free, because that would make her identity public. She needed another plan.

That's when she asked Tikki to get Juleka the tiger Miraculous- and it had, once again, been the right choice.

Marinette couldn't just stay still,watching. She fought to find a way out.

Making use of the constant moving water, and with Anarka and Kitty Section's help, she found a way up, arriving to his heart. Or was it the akuma’s heart? It didn’t matter to her as long as she could save him.

The sight was not what she had expected: a vast sea surrounded by colorful stained glass with the people he cared the most portrayed on them. Anarka, Juleka and Kitty Section were there. Big, colorful and shining bright.

Marinette continued swimming in his inner tormented sea of darkness until she found another glass under a cliff: hers. It looked beautiful, but unreachable, since a rose garden guarded and protected it. Untouchable beauty.

Was this Luka's vision of her? A beautiful flower surrounded by thorns, with green stains on paint messing with the almost perfect piece of art’s balance and making it painful to watch?

Marientte felt her heart ache in guilt.

She knew she was the cause of the hurt in his eyes which he sometimes looked at her with. He had always seen through her, despite how much she had been starting to believe her own lies about ‘moving on’ and ‘love’.

Marinette shook her head: no time to waste. Cry later. Focus now.

Her tail brought her to a cliff island with a broken stained glass window next to it. The one that belonged to Jagged Stone, as his name was written on a rock. It most likely broke at the revelation of Jagged being Luka’s father, but now the window was pitch black, with the pieces scattered on the floor. Silent.

She could feel his fears of being abandoned in her own skin, and froze at the realization: his endurance and his strength were only there thanks to music. A music his heart lacked at the moment.

Music.

That's the answer. Music was what healed his heart. This time too, he needed music.

But what could she do without musical knowledge? Or without any instrument to play?

'My voice' she notices. ‘I still have my voice’

Marinette starts singing her own heart song as composed by Luka, while the battle outside continues, now with their visit to Jagged Stone's memories.

Perfect timing.

And clouds appear over Jagged's glass window, the wind carrying some pieces back to its original place- partly reconstructed.

Maybe the mermaid form had another purpose, Marinette wonders. Maybe Luka couldn't completely let go of music, after all, whether he was akumatized or not. Or maybe...

Back to present, Marinette sees a light up that lifts her out of Luka's insides. Next time she blinks, she has recovered her original appearance- clumsy human girl Marinette.

"Run!" Chat Noir commands, and she obeys. As she runs, she gazes back at Luka, who shows her a painfully sad smile.

"Marinette!" Her kwami calls her before she can give it deeper thought. "Tikki! Spots on!"

Moments later, Ladybug makes it to the battle. "Lucky charm!"

____________

The battle ends soon. Too soon, to Ladybug's surprise. ‘Why did he offer no resistance?’

She'll have time to think about this later. First… "Miraculous Ladybug!" Ladybug rushed to recover Juleka's Miraculous so they could go back to Luka as soon as possible.

"Thank you, Ladybug" Juleka says, running off to hug her brother.

Marinette detransforms next and soon reaches them too. But she hesitates again. Should she be by his side when she hurts him so much?

Luka meets her gaze and smiles softly, apologetically and embarrassed, but clearly welcoming her. And she doesn't hesitate anymore to join their collective hug, melting in love after a swirl of emotions. They part from the hug and they all focus on Jagged Stone who is still processing what happened.

"Wait a second- Are you really my children…? You thought I abandoned you…?” Jagged asks the twins, before turning his head to Anarka. “Why didn't you tell me? Weren't we partners? 'Rock-'n'-roll until the crocodile controls'. Remember?"

"You said you wanted to go solo. You left me behind. Did you really expect me to go back to you after the humiliation I suffered? I gave you my heart and you threw me away as soon as you could!" Anarka yelled.

"I was young and immature, and not the best father figure, I admit it! But I deserved to know! You should have told me!"

"I'm telling you now! They are your children, Luka and Juleka. If you ever want to meet them, you know where we live. Don’t you ever come back if you plan to abandon them later" Anarka says, grabbing her children's shoulders and guiding them to move out of the hotel room with a push.

"I'm sorry…" Luka mumbles to Jagged, before leaving the room.

"I'm the one who is sorry…" Jagged admits to Marinette before she runs to follow the Couffaines and Kitty Section. “I’ll go visit sometime! I promise!”

“Are you ok, Luka?” Marinette asks after leaving through the hotel doors, seeing how Jagged is looking at them from the highest balcony.

“I will be. Eventually…” he returns his gaze down to focus on Marinette, reaching to hold her hand. “I don’t need Jagged’s music as long as I can listen to yours''

Marinette feels her cheeks burn.

________________________

On their way home, Marinette can’t take what she’s seen out of her head. ‘It was Luka's heart, right? And Luka’s true feelings. He truly loves me’, she realized. ‘But why…?’

With an instant of bravery, Marinette pulls Luka's hand to separate themselves from the rest of his family and friends.

"Luka… I- Am I painful to be with? To watch?" She bites her lip a bit and asks in terror. “Am I hurting you?”

"Of course not, Marinette. Never.” Luka assures her with a soft, faint smile. “You're more than I could ever ask for. You're the most beautiful song I've ever heard"

"Even if I have those unbearable to watch green stains...?" she whispers, embarrassed and angry at herself for not being able to make her feelings go according to her wishes.

"It can’t be helped, can it? And even if that’s the case, for me, you’re still the most beautiful despite those colors"

“Is my heart song really enough to cover for that ugliness? I hate it myself…”

“You shouldn’t. Imperfections can enhance beauty. I don’t mind them as long as I can hear your song up close” he answers.

“But-! Are you sure…? Aren’t you afraid I might end up abandoning you?” she finally asks, scared for his answer.

“I am. I’m terrified” he admits. “But how am I supposed to stand in the way of your wishes- your happiness? I can’t and I won’t do that” Luka shrugs, “Aren’t you scared of being abandoned too?”

“I am” she answers, after giving it some thought. “and that’s not the main reason for it, but I want to stay by your side” she realizes, “more than ever”.

Luka squeezes her hand and shows her a soft expression. “Thank you for always saving me. Akumatized or not,” he whispers to her ear. It surprises Marinette to see how his cheeks are pink over his fond smile.

“No-! I- I just sang a song and- It was all thanks to the new her-” she stopped herself. Luka couldn’t possibly remember what happened when he was akumatized. No one told him, no one showed him the news. He couldn’t know he turned her into a mermaid, or how she sang. Yet he thanked her for saving him.

‘Of course he knows’ Marinette understands. ‘Yet he didn’t reveal me to Shadow Moth and he let me go on purpose, too’. Her thoughts deepen. ‘I get it now’ she reaches her conclusion. ‘He wanted me to save him. He wanted me to take him back after he realized he was on the wrong side. It makes sense. He protected me despite being akumatized once again- like when he was Silencer’.

The girl’s feet stop walking for a moment at the revelation, causing Luka to look back at her. Taking one step closer, she raises on her tiptoes and gives Luka a kiss on his lips, surprising both of them.

‘I wonder what kind of music his heart is hearing now,’ she wonders, ‘because I can only hear a grateful and sincere happy tune in my own heart right now’

“Your heartsong is beautiful” she finishes with a smile he reciprocates.

Most likely, both of them knew deep inside that their relationship as it was now was bound to end at some point, sooner or later. Maybe both of them would always be afraid of loneliness and being abandoned, too. But wasn’t it enough to enjoy the music they created in that instant, while it lasts? Isn’t it the same with live concerts? They might end, but the sensations last forever in memories. Is it something to regret? Neither of them felt it was. And perhaps both of them secretly agreed with that logic as they continued walking hand in hand, enjoying each other's company and welcoming their mutual love and support, in whatever form their relationship changes into in the future.

[highdwightofmylife]

Hello, I just discovered your blog and your Oni content is so *chefs kiss* like holy crap!! I was wondering if you had any hcs on how he reacted to realizing the entity made him look like an Oni and maybe how his s/o reacts to finally seeing his face? Ty in advance!!

🥺🥺 thank u...

Oni And His Face

When Kazan came to the Entity's Realm, Kazan first knew something was amiss as he looked to his hands. He'd awoken in the fog, sprawled on the dying grass, and as he sat up, he caught sight of the hue. Blue skin, with claw-like nails jutting from his fingers. He fumbled, clawing at his arms, exposing more and more azure skin. Panic set in. He felt sick. He tore at the mask that was clinging to his face and threw it upon the dirt with a clatter. He palmed his cheeks. His ears. His mouth.

He'd frantically crawl on his hands and knees, nails forcing sharp indents into the ground. There was a force behind his movements that felt unnatural, like it didn't truly belong to him. Just what had the Entity done to him?

The reflection of his face stared up at him as he peered over the flurry of the stream. In the disturbed water, he could see all he'd become. In that moment, he felt his heart sink. It was one thing to be called an Oni while he was still human. It had ignited anger, sure, but now... Now he was the very thing he'd been named.

For a long while he'd stare. He'd feel everything sinking in. The panic would turn to sorrow. And then to grief.

And then? To anger. He'd make futile attempts to beat at his own reflection in the water, screaming at the top of his lungs, cursing the Entity for what it had done to him.

He descends into a rage that lasts for days, and not a single soul dares introduce themselves to him during this time. So he had a very... lonely start to living in the fog. Many trees were literally torn to pieces at his hand.

Now, lets fast forward. He's not over how much he hates what he's become, but he's... More accepting. Theres nothing he can do about it. He despises the Entity. He wears his mask constantly, because despite being the mask of an Oni, it's also just that. A mask. He prefers to wield the fake visage of an oni than to display his warped face.

But now there's you. Skipping over how you met and how you came to be together, you eventually have to look at his face. He puts it off for so long. Your hands reach for his face and he'll recoil from your touch. He will not let you look.

But it comes off one day. Not by choice. It's totally by accident. Kazan's a big guy and he's particularly heavy footed, always stepping in the wrong place and stumbling over. He can usually catch himself and steady himself against a wall or something. And usually he'll laugh it off, deep rumbles of amusement escaping him.

But not this time. The mask gets caught as he lurches forward, and it's ripped from his face. The air hits his skin and he freezes. He knows you're looking at him. You're not saying anything. He assumes you've saw what he is and yo you're disgusted.

He begins to claw at his face, fumbling to cover himself. His fingers dig into his skin and fresh blood wedges between the nails from his assault. His chest swells with anger. With disgust. With regret and shame. Heavy breathing, heaving shoulders, crimson on his fingers and on his face. You think you hear him utter something. A growl of a word.

Sorry. In his native tongue. He's apologising to you. He's harming his own face and yet he's saying sorry to you. He's sorry you had to tolerate him. Sorry you had to deal with his affections. Sorry you had to have a monster love you.

But those are just his thoughts. His thoughts. Not yours.

You dont touch him. He's freaking out, and you know by now that he shouldn't be touched in his rages. Even if he didnt mean to, he could easily lash out at you.

You call his name. "Kazan," you say. He doesn't hear you. There's a tremble in his voice as he continues telling you he's sorry. Even if you do speak his native tongue, it would be a hard task to know what he's saying due to the muffle of his hands and the shake of his deceiving angry tone. He sounds angry. But he's not.

You say it again. Louder. He doesn't hear .

You shout it.

He stops. Covering his face, his shoulders freeze up. You hear him withdraw a thick breath. You know he's going to apologise again.

You stop him. He's not lashing out now. It's safer. You say his name, softer now that he can hear you in the silence, and place your hand on his arm. His body shifts and flinches, and he tries to angle his face even further from you.

You tell him it's okay. That he's okay. You tell him that he's safe, not that it matters to him, and that you're safe. Now that one matters. When he hears you telling him that you're safe, it's something that makes him settle, even if only slightly.

You reach out, your fingers curled under his chin. He tries to move, but you urge him towards you. Gently pulling at his face to make him face you. He can't find it in him to deny you. You deserve to know, he thinks, even if it makes you hate him.

When he's facing you, you take his hands. Gently pulling them from his face. His eyes are watching your intently, swelling with sorrow. He waits for you to recoil.

But you don't.

You let go of his hands and your palms find his cheeks. He's so warm. You don't care that he hates how he looks. You don't care that there's blood on his face. You don't care.

He's hunched over you. Though he was tall enough to stand up and keep his face entirely from your reach, he doesn't. He let's you guide him closer to you as much as you want.

You kiss his cheek. And then the tip of his nose. And then his forehead. And then his lips.

You tell him you love him. He searches your eyes, wary, but there's nothing deceiving about you that he can see.

He trusts you. A weight is lifted from his shoulders.

He says sorry again, but this time he's apologising for reacting so harshly. You smile. You kiss him again and he swells with a fluttering, butterfly-filled breath. He's looking at you with adoration now. The fondness in his eyes is unbelievably endearing. It's nice to see it now that he isn't hiding his entire face from you with a mask.

The very moment he realises that you live him almost as much as he loves you 👀

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ Sensitive dream ~

Warnings: SMUT! sub!changbin, fem!reader, pillow humping, subconscious, massage, consensual somnophilia.

Word count: 743 words

Requested; No..? but it's based on anons ideas (I HAD TO AaaAAAaah)

Note: THANK U SO MUCH ANON! i always get so happy when i see something in my inbox ／(･ × ･)＼ (dont be shy yall ;)) )

"Changbin, sit still!" you said, the boy squirming as you massaged his shoulders. The brown haired boy sat in between your legs on the carpeted floor, back turned to you.

"But it tickles...AHH! yo it hurts!!" he turned around, giving you a pout to which you awed and bent down to peck him on the lips.

"Now turn around and take off your shirt, I can't massage those knots properly through the shirt." your eyes were guled to the tv screen infront of you, blaring you with blue light as you watched some bad series.

He complied like a good boy, removing the clothing and sat back between your legs to endure the painful massage. His chest was buff, a slight sixpack showing as the tv light accentuated his skincolor.

With one finger you started to trace the outline of his neck and shoulders to which he immediately reacted, goosebumps forming on his delicate skin. His breath hitched everytime your fingertips got closer to the sensitive part of his neck making you smirk. Changbin contiued to squirm beneath you, this time more than before.

"You good baby?" you asked him. He couldn't be squirming from pain because you hadn't massaged him properly yet, you thought.

"Mmhhm..." he nodded his head vigoursly, looking like a guilty puppy.

"It's gonna hurt now!" you announced to the boy to not startle him as you started to massage the knots in his shoulders from dance practice.

Small groans escaped his mouth from time to time, his head was mostly hanging down in order to stop himself from making anymore noise.

After 10 minutes you patted him gently on his back and said that you were going to sleep as you grabbed the tv remote to turn off the device. You gave him a peck on the cheek from behind and stood up to go to the bedroom. Changbin still sat in his seat, his shining eyes following your figure as it dissapeared into the room. He looked down into his lap. A painful erection appearing through the grey sweatpants. Changbin huffed and whined quietly to himself until he stood up and went to bed with you.

♡

'3 AM' ,the digital clock radiated it's numbers into the dark night. You were barely awake, struggeling to see through sleep coated eyes. A strange noise filled the room which woke you up. Not only that but the slight movement of the bed alarmed you. A string of sweet nothings pierced thorugh your ears..

"y-y/n...please touch...touch m-me..." Changbin whimpered desperatly.

Confused, you sat up and looked at him, what you saw made you smirk. He layed on his side, a pillow between his legs as he was rubbing his clothed dick against it in desperation. Small moans espaced his delicate lips, slightly parted with a bit of drool hanging on his plump bottom lip. All this whilst he was still sleeping. His lashes feathered on his heavy eyelids.

You couldn't just watch the poor boy trying to get off so you decided to help him. Carefully, you removed the pillow that was being crushed between his thighs from him trying to gain contact with it by squeezing.

Underneath the pillow was Changbins raging erection which made your breath hitch. You ligthly cupped his erection with your hand as you looked at him, reading his every facial expression. He whined as he rubbed against your touch with furrowed brows. You loved seeing him this helpless but he wasn't the only helpless one in this situation. A hot wave flashed across your face, panties getting wetter by the second. You both needed release and so you kissed him, deepening the kiss by sticking your tongue in his mouth.

Changbin responded right away, his big brown eyes twinkled as the slowly opened them, making direct eyecontact with you. His cheeks were rather puffed having just woken up in the middle of the night.

"You need some help?" you asked, breaking the passionated kiss.

"The massage earlier...made me h-hard." Changbin broke the eye contact, looking almost ashamed from how easy he got turned on.

"I-I didn't want to say anything cause I was embarrassed..." he said underneath his breath, still looking away. His hot breath grazed your red cheek.

Your hand trailed down beneath his underwear, nearing where he needed you the most as you continued to look at him. Changbin met your gaze. In a quiet and shaky voice he said; 

“Please fuck m-me y/n...” 

[vegetacide]

Veggie art’ing Part II complete…  This is a continuation of THIS 

Also for something a bit new as I had several notes asking what was going on with the previous pic I wrote a little something to accompany this.  It took a rather unexpected direction on me as I had ordinally intended for this to be a reconciliation picture..   Just were my mind veered for some reason.. I blame these two idiots…

I have spent far too long plunking away at this so bare with me if its absolutely crap. 

Anyway.. if you wish to read it.. look check out below 

Working title: …haven’t come up with one yet.. meh. Sue me

Blanket warning: Hints to adult subject matter that some might find offensive or triggery..mentions of past trama…. etc etc

Rating: Teen.. I guess

Word count: 2726 words 

Characters: Virgil/Kayo

Fandom: TaG’verse A/U

Location: My made up beach house located somewhere on Tracy Island..  

Veggie notes:   Any errors are completely my own and I am sure I will catch them at some point on one of my obsessive read throughs of self doubt.  :D

Enjoy…

o0o 

Damn, how in the world had it come to this? 

Virgil watched as she padded on quiet, bare feet across the beach house deck.  Retreating again and effectively shutting him out.  Her slender shoulders so small under the too big flannel of his shirt, were hunched as she protectively wrapped her arms around herself. Closing off like she always did when things got too close and too real for her to deal with. 

His chest hurt, a dull ache behind his breast bone and he rubbed at it subconsciously.  Like his heart was too big and in its floundering it was trying to break through the meager sack of flesh that housed it.

Cursing, he rubbed at it again and resisted the urge to drive his fist in the plastered wall of the beach house.  The effort wouldn’t serve any meaningful purpose anyways other than splitting his knuckles. There was no detracting from his present circumstances and potential broken bones wouldn’t change that. 

He should have taken more care with his words instead of letting his thoughts run free as he did and he kicked himself for his short sightedness,  not that it fixed anything.  He’d been too caught up in his own little world,  completely forgetting the reality they were living and now here they were. 

On opposing ends of a vast chasm.  Him holding on with all his might to keep his family whole while Kayo fought against it. The horrible twisted image of family that a mad man had imprinted on her at too young an age warping her view on things to the detriment of them both.    An idea she had been fighting her whole life to make different and one she couldn’t escape, it seemed no matter how hard they tried to.  

The old doubts and worries were always just beneath the surface just waiting to spring forth to bugger things up. The present being a prime example.  

The morning had started out completely different and felt almost like a dream to where they were now.   Warm and lazy with a vague like quality one found just upon waking.   

Kayo had been snuggled in his arms. Her legs tangled with his among the rumpled sheets. A sweet ocean breeze blowing through the gossamer curtains and dancing pleasantly over their satiated bodies.  Wicking the dew of sweat from their skin as their pulses slowed and their minds drifted back from the bliss of carnal sensation. 

His fingers had been lazily tracing up and down her back, over the sinewy grace of her shoulders and down the curve of her spine. Paying homage and mapping every glorious inch to his artist brain. 

He’d been lost in a day dream of what could be. The gentle rise of her hip, the varied valleys of her ribs  directing the course of his thoughts.  A picture was forming of a future, one that stretched out before them like a blank canvas, waiting for them to take up the brush and fill it with colour and life. 

A story in images had started to sketch itself  in his mind’s eye.  The two of them, together.  Healing, growing and evolving with a world of opportunity before them and nothing to hold them back. 

Not being able to contain himself as he lazed with her, Virgil had voiced his thoughts. Letting loose all that he’d hoped for.   A tumble of words spewing forth that had Kayo suddenly growing still and stiff to his touch. 

“Virgil,  stop…”  Had been all she’d uttered before she’d turned from his embrace and slipped from the soft comfort of their bed.  Her hair a tumble of love tousled ebony, hiding her face. 

“It would be a nice picture to paint.”  He’d replied, mind still on other things and not on the present.   “Go anywhere, wherever we want.  Take in the sights for a change instead of just jetting by them.  Go to that little cabin by that lake I told you about… it would be a perfect spot to..”

“Enough! …” The abruptness of her raised voice had him snapping his jaw shut.  

With jerking motions, she’d grabbed up his shirt.  The match to his favourite pair of lounge pants.   The one she loved to cozy into and entice him with. A glimpse of flesh here as it rode up her thighs, a flash there as supple mounds peaked out between the row of loosed buttons. Now though it covered her in a different manner entirely.  Like a shield, she clasped it tightly 

He’d pushed up to his elbows, brows dropped low with concern as he’d finally taken note that something wasn’t quite right..  “Kay?"  

She’d cast her gaze back at him then.  The briefest of looks had been enough for him to catch the shadow of disquiet in them.  Their usual vibrancy muddied by brewing clouds of anger that had him sliding from the sheets and reaching for her. 

“Don’t.” Was all she said, shaking her head as he’d risen and moved towards her.  Her hands held aloft to hold him back as she’d strode from the room.  

“What… Tin,  what’s going on?”  

Grabbing up his pants Virgil had stumbled after her, hopping as he yanked them on amid a  litany of colourful words. 

“Shit… Wait..”  

Steps later he was confronted by a fury he hadn’t expected considering where and what they had been doing mere moments before.  

She had been pacing like a caged animal,  across the expanse of the living room and back again.  Rage flowing from her with each hurried step. 

“What…?”  Was all he managed to say before she turned on him.  Fire in her gaze,  colour high on her cheeks.  

“You know what?”  She seethed, poking a finger in his direction as she did another circuit of the room.

He’s own anger bubbled to the surface,  “Actually, I don’t. So would you enlighten me to whatever erroneous infraction it is that you think that I’ve done?”  

“Oh, don’t give me that.  You know exactly what the problem is.”

Virgil’s brows shot up as her words had struck a chord in his grey matter. “Problem? You really think…”

“What in the hell were we thinking?!”  She growled out, shoving a chair out to the way and knocking it over with a crash. “Selfish..Stupid.”

“With the lives we lead….You can’t ask this of me!”   

Her words had been like a physical blow and Virgil had taken an involuntary step back. She’d wanted her words to hurt and she’d succeeded.  She never did pull her punches and her aim was as impeccable as ever.

He’d seen the realization of what she’d said flicker through her gaze but she’d quickly buried it. Instead of saying more, she shook her head, turned  her back on him once more and walked out the open sliding doors putting more than just distance between them. 

And he’d let her go,  his shoulders slumping at the writing between the lines of what had been said. In his mind there was only one option open to them but maybe for her that wasn’t the case. The implications of those options was something he couldn’t dare to fathom…but it was a road he wouldn’t let her travel down alone.  

He had a responsibility to uphold,  as  her husband and as the man he prided himself on being.  A rescuer in dark times, when there was no one else capable of the job and sometimes those that needed rescuing were closer to home.

Squaring his shoulders he went after her.  She was begging for a fight. An obvious distraction from the core reasoning behind her lashing out at him but he wouldn’t take her up on the invitation.   He wouldn’t let her push him away to deal with whatever this was on her own. 

Passing through the doors,  his eyes scanned over the deck and his breath had caught.   

She looked so small, fragile and it had brought him up short. Slumping,  he braced himself between a support post and the beach house wall.  An uncanny exhaustion suffusing him as he saw the uphill battle of the task ahead.  A task he was determined to see through to the end, no matter the outcome. 

He hated seeing her like this and despite her best efforts to push him away, Virgil knew her too well.  Had spent most of his life knowing her.  He could read her nuances, gestures and mood even when she tried to close off from him like she was trying to do now under a mask of anger.  

“Tin,”  He said carefully, dropping his hand and pushing away from the post.  He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, letting the tension slip from his shoulders.   Approaching her with all guns blazing would only crank her defenses up higher and wouldn’t get them anywhere.

He watched her stance with a practiced eye as he stepped closer.  She was like an abused animal.  Even with all of her training, when she was emotionally compromised as she was right now the scared little girl she had been came to the fore.  The one they met when she’d first came to live with them, hiding behind her father’s leg.   

He hadn’t known her history then,  the actions of her uncle and the effect that it would have on the rest of her life.  How it would shape her into the strong, determined woman she was today.  Never letting anyone get close enough to see the frightened child she closeted away inside.  Virgil though had managed to find his way inside,  found the cracks in her apparent impenetrable armour and had broken through to  the core of the woman inside.  The one she tried desperately to hide from the world in a shell of fierce resolve and purpose.  

Under it all was a woman, who had seen too much.  Abused, battered, basically orphaned by her absentee father and desperately afraid.  To top it all off, she hated the weakness and fought tooth and nail to hide it from everyone.  With the exception of him,  she didn’t have a choice there. He’d wormed his way in and he wouldn’t stand by and let her retreat from herself or from him.  

Gently he placed his hands on her tight shoulders,  cupping their slender, wavering strength and he whispered her name again.  “Tanusha…”  

Her head bowed further,  a meager attempt to hide in the fall of her hair but he could feel the quiver in her body now,  hear the soft stuttered intake of her breath.  She was crying and trying oh so hard not to be. 

Pain and love swelled through his chest, and an undeniable protectiveness.  

Virgil pulled her back into his embrace, encircling his arms around her waist and with little resistance she melted.  

“I’m sorry,”  He whispered over the curve of her ear,  brushing his lips across the elven-like arch of it.  “I’m so sorry.”  

He put all his love he could into the words, hoping that by apologizing for something he wasn’t wholly the cause of would help alleviate her suffering in some way. 

“I wasn’t thinking and it was insensitive of me.”  He tightened his hold on her,  reassurance imbued into the gesture and slowly began to rock giving her the time to pull herself back together again. 

The slight tremor slowly dissipated,  her breathing settling into a somewhat normal rhythm and he knew that she was ready to hear. More so when she dragged in a ragged breath and exhaled a long drawn out sigh. He could almost hear her counting to ten in her head.  A method she used to reign back in some of her control and a calm he knew well creeped back in. One that camouflaged a great deal of hurt. 

He did the same,  his warm breath stirring her hair and ghosting across the smooth column of her neck which peeked out from the drooping collar of his shirt.   

“You know we’ve got this, right?”  He questioned though he wasn’t expecting an answer.  “Yes,  he’s out…”  She stilled once more in his hold but Virgil couldn’t stop now,  Kayo needed to hear this even if it was just a band-aid to the problem.   He couldn’t sit by and let her lose herself in fear so he pushed on. There was too much at stake.

“Yes,  he’s upped his game in a big way.  Dad knew he was capable,  your Dad knew….” A flinch at the mention of the absentee man but again he pressed on.  There was no backing down now.  What he had to say, needed to be said.  

“We were unprepared but we know better now and I promise you, Tanusha Kyrano Tracy;  just like I did on the day you said ‘Yes’.. That I will never,  ever let that man hurt you again.”  

He slipped a hand down,  between the soft folds of flannel,  across her silky, soft skin that concealed honed muscle and deadly skills. Brushed the edge of fine lace and stilled, cupped and shielded that which was only known to the two of them.  

With strength of purpose his chest swelled,  a determination unlike any he had ever known bulked up the threat behind his next words.  “I’ll do everything in my power to protect both of you, I swear it or the Hood will regret the day he heard the name Tracy.”

She turned, taking his hand in her own and lightly brushing her lips across his knuckles. “You’re too good for me Virgil Grissom Tracy and I don’t deserve you.”  

The brief storm of anger has fled from her eyes, leaving behind only doubt and fear.  “But I don’t think it’s as easy as that. You’re too good a man to stoop to such levels and I don’t think I could live with myself if you made that sort of sacrifice on my behalf. 

Besides,  what sort of life could we offer with him out there.   He’s already been the cause of so much pain.  You and your brother’s have suffered for years because of it..I don’t think I would have the strength if he was to get you or….” 

Virgil’s frowned.  “Tin,  I married you.  All of you and everything you brought with you. I knew full well what I was marrying into but that man,  that bastard… he can’t come between us and what we want unless you let him.”  

Her gaze dropped and with gentle fingers he lifted her chin and waited for her to meet his pleading eyes.  “Don’t let him win… not in this. Please God, not in this.”  

“We may not have a choice…” Came the whisper of her response, her forehead resting against his own as a lingering tear slipped from her lashes. 

“Tin, please….”

“Virgil, I love you.  God, how I love you but I can’t tell you what you want to hear.  Not right now. If the Hood found out…. 

Just then the island klaxon blared  and Virgil’s comms started to ping with urgency.

Kayo took a step back from him and he stared after her. Brain going a mile a minute with words he wanted to say,  emotions he wanted to express.   

“Go…” She said with resignation, her arms once more crossing over her frame.   “You’re needed..” 

“I’m needed more here.”  

His comms buzzed again followed by the voice of his star loving sibling. “Virgil, you’re needed in Ops. A.S.A.P.  Please confirm.””  

Conflicted, Virgil stood unmoving,  his fist clenched at his side.   Trapped between the woman he loved and the life they’d chosen.  

“Go,  I’ll be here when you get back..”   

His brother’s voice sounded again from his comms, pulling him in two directions at once.  The hint of stress he picks up in it though had him unfreezing and heading for the underground access to the hanger.  

Passing through the automated door and hitting his comms to reply to John, he looked back at Kayo.  His heart sinking and doubt filling him as he watched her turn away from him.  

Uncertainty prickling across his skin as he questioned the validity of her words but there was nothing he could do right now.   Lives were at stack…more so than just those that needed rescuing and his hands were tied… 

“FAB John,  on my way…”

FIN….????

[tcstu]

April’s Honorable Mentions

This was definitely a hard month to judge. Each of the entries below took a totally different perspective and it is very difficult to hold them to any kind of comparison. I hope you will take the time to read each of these stories and make sure to let the writers know if you liked one. I’m sure they would love to hear from you!

As a reminder, the piece for this month’s contest is an untitled work created by @beewithagun. If you like this picture as much as I do, make sure to check out Beewithagun’s page to see more original artwork!

(The Honorable Mentions below are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.)

Title: The Fay

Written by: @daalseth​

Deep in the forest lived a fay. Older than time, but as young as spring she had known every tree since it was a seed. She was the soul of the forest. When she was sad, the forest mourned, when she was happy the forest was bright, and when she was angry, well you didn’t want to be in the forest when the fay was angry.

The fay came across a fallen tree. It was lying on the ground, but it hadn’t blown down. It was cut off square at the base. Then she saw another. There was a clearing, a whole section of her forest that was dead and many of the fallen were missing. As the fay passed over she was horrified. What could have caused this?

Soon she came upon the camp of men where they were feeding the dying trees into grinders. The fay could hear the trees, still alive scream as they were shredded into wood chips. The fay’s horror grew deeper and she went to the men to plead for them to stop. Beg them to not kill the trees, her brothers and sisters. But as soon as she appeared the men grew angry at her interference. They yelled at her, threw things at her, they even tried to shoot at her.

The fay fled into the depths of the forest. She was heartbroken and began to cry. When she cried the rain began to fall. So deep was her sorrow that the rain came down in torrents and began to flood the blasted land. The fay went back to the camp. She saw that the men had stopped shredding trees. Now they were battling the waters. They had used machines to push earth up to block the water. The fay noticed that some metal barrels had been broken by the machine and were spilling their poison into the water. The water flowed across the clearing into the forest. Wherever the poison flowed, everything died. Fish, mouse, moss, and tree all died in agony.

The fay grew angry. The men could see fire in her eyes, and sparks illuminated her hair. The rain turned to thunder and bolts of lightning rained down upon the camp. They struck the shredder, and the building, and the piles of shredded trees, and the lightning struck the men, it ESPECIALLY struck the men. Electric hands reached into even the deepest hiding place to grab the terrified men.

Soon it was done. The fay came out and passed among the charred remains. She smiled a grim smile. The rain stopped and the sun came out. She was pleased. Though the fay mourned her lost friends, she knew the forest would heal with time.

At last she came to one man still alive. With his last breath he pleaded for help. She looked at him with cold eyes and turned away.

She was the fay of the forest and men were not her concern.

Title: “About Danny’s First Time”

Written by: @evanthenerd83

It was wonderful.

It was also kinda, sorta, a little gross.

There were a few glaring issues. Primarily the question of how Danny would get into the appropriate position, and how she would get into hers.

The swamp wasn’t all that big. It wasn’t even a swamp. The girl sat in a rather small pool.

Said pool was, of course, filled with water. And said water contained muck, yuck, and other things generally considered unpleasantly…  sticky. Twigs and fallen leaves floated along the surface—

No. Not floated, exactly. They were stuck on the surface, a skin not unlike jellied jam.

Which meant the girl could only sit on her knees, or lay on her stomach with her head propped up in her arms.

Danny particularly liked that position. Her skin was green, lighter splotches running down her neck and her arms and her spine. Her hair spilled over bare shoulders.

And it also made certain things much more… pronounced. Danny felt his blood rushing down.

The girl tried to explain why she couldn’t leave the pool. Something about an ancient curse and her mother. A woman who, as she so elegantly put it, hated her guts.

“All of my sisters are much more, you know. Beautiful. Human… er? More human? Humanoid?”

Danny didn’t care if her sisters were literal goddesses. They’d never compare to her. He pulled off his shirt, then threw it over his shoulder. The skull-and-crossbones printed on the front disappeared.

The girl blushed. An even darker shade of green filled her cheeks.

“Anyway, you’d be better off going to them. I don’t have, like, much experience with… you know… uh… physical stuff.”

Danny plunged into the pool. The water wasn’t cold. It wasn’t warm, either. It was nothingness.

The girl shifted in place, while Danny took her hand. It was only slightly warmer than the water, which surprised him.

He kissed it. “Neither do I.”

The girl stared, eyes wide. Then, she glanced down, at his bare chest. Then, up to his face. Then, down to his chest, again, and then—

“Oh, what the hell?”

Soggy lips met lips.

She laid back.

He leaned forward.

Calm hands clasped behind his neck.

Awkward hands panicked.

He grabbed the straps of her swamp-weed dress, the not-actually-fabric tearing apart, as easily as paper. Certain things were suddenly freed.

“Oh. Crap. Sorry—”

“Don’t be.”

Legs thin as twigs wrapped around his waist.

She undid the zipper to his jeans, yanking them down, discarding his underwear at the exact same time. Something else was suddenly freed.

“Now, let’s just… a little to the—”

“L-like that?”

“Oh! U-uh. Y-yeah.”

What happened next was kinda, sorta, a little gross.

But also… wonderful.

Title: “Sing Me Out a Storm”

Written by: @winterrose42

She couldn’t remember the last time it had rained this much.

Though she could only imagine the chaos that must be raging above the pond underwater it was as calm and serene as it had ever been. Idly, she swung her feet through the loose sand and reeds, blurring her vision with the silt she kicked up. That was just fine with her, there had never been much to see in her small abode to begin with. Sand and rocks worn smooth and sparkly lined to bottom, with the sides sloping up gently until they met the shore. She could swim from one end to another in about three minutes if she went slowly, and it was just deep enough that casual swimmers wandering in wouldn’t see her unless they knew to look. It was perfect.

Closing her eyes she sighed contently and stood her ears up just a little bit more to catch more of the soft pattering of rain that was still filling up her home at a slow and steady rate. The frogs had long stopped their evening croaking and she knew the few fish that lived here wouldn’t have a care that it was storming above their home. The pond hardly ever changed and when it did it simply meant there was a meal to be had, which was always fine with her.

Perking up she strained her ears as something new invaded her serenity. A low, mournful note drifted down to her slowly, draping itself around her shoulders and weighing them down with the burden it carried. Tears pricked her eyes as she pushed off from where she’d been sitting, intent on seeing what could make such heart jerking noises. Their voice picked up again, another long, drawn out note that was almost more moan than song. Curious and slightly concerned she drifted closer to the hunched figure. The song wrapped around her so slowly she hardly noticed it, pulling her along as gently as a suggestion with little intention beyond calling for aid. Closer and closer she came, reeds fanning out with her hair as she kept as low as she could with her eyes still above water, squinting through the storm to see clearer.

Quickly, so quickly even her natural instincts were too slow, the comforting net turned to one full of malice, her limbs cinched so close she could hardly breathe as she finally caught sight of the face of her entrancement. Cold eyes devoid of the emotion their owner had been singing peered at her viciously from under soaked bangs. The notes heightened in pitch, rocking up to a scream as her own voice stuck fast in her throat. Deep in her bones she knew a siren was not meant to be trapped this way; enchanting one wasn’t something she had ever heard of, but feeling the last tendrils of the song fade away into a cold nothing she knew it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t remember the last time it had rained this much.

Untitled

Written by: Felix @that-dumb-space-kid

We’d been traveling for little over two days when we found her. Cass had insisted on taking breaks over our journey, and, with some persistence, I was able to convince Sage to go along with her idea. The lake she’d found was far enough from the path that no one would notice us but close enough that we wouldn’t get lost. Those were Sage’s requirements, our quest would remain as secret as possible. They said word would travel fast about three teenagers going off to battle an evil force. Of course, they were probably right. It was raining when we finally reached the lake. Sage set about surveying the area, making sure nobody was around, and Cass began digging through a basket for some food, leaving me with nothing to do. I decided to go down to the lake to get some water. I couldn’t hear quite right over the rain, but I could’ve sworn I heard crying as I walked up to the water.

When I reached the shore, I was certain I that’s what I was hearing. I looked out over the lake, and that’s when I saw her. She didn’t look like the monsters Sage warned us about, but she didn’t look human either. I was so entranced by who she was or what she could be that I didn’t hear Cass and Sage approach me. Cass opened her mouth to speak, when the creature in the lake snapped her head to us.

“Who are you?” She sounded almost human. If I hadn’t been looking at her, I would have assumed she was. Sage and Cass immediately started arguing over whether or not we could trust her. Not that that was surprising. They argued over everything. The creature and I held eye contact, unnoticed by the others. Eventually I spoke, silencing my friends’ argument. “I’m Oliver. Who are you?”

“Nimue.” For a second her tears stopped, and it seemed as though a venom overtook her. “They destroyed my village.” The moment passed and she was crying again.

“Who?” Sage glared at Cass as she asked.

“I don’t know. Darkness started pouring down into the water, and I heard voices and then nothing. When I woke up, I was the only survivor.”

“Sound exactly like what we’re after,” Sage muttered. “It’s too much of a coincidence.”

Cass slapped them. “No, it’s not.”

I stepped into the lake and offered my hand to Nimue. “If I’m right, we’re already looking for the thing that destroyed your village. How would you like to join us in stopping it?”

Before Sage could yell at me, Nimue nodded and grabbed my hand. She climbed out of the water and became the fourth member of our quest.

[rawiswhore]

Triple H, Shawn Michaels x Fem Reader- "Working With Meat"

At the beginning of 1998, the World Wrestling Federation was undergoing a makeover, where they now had a rougher, edgier looking logo and a new name, as well as altercate a new beginning to the WWF.

What was once a family friendly, cartoonish and colorful company that seemed like a live action Saturday morning cartoon aimed at kids was now becoming much darker, edgier, much more violent, sexual, boundary pushing and even shocking.

And who helped initiate this new era of the World Wrestling Federation?

Not just Stone Cold Steve Austin, Kane, Mankind and even Brian Pillman, but a wrestling group known as D Generation X, comprised of Shawn Michaels, Chyna, you and who is now known as Triple H.

The former Ravishing Rick Rude was even a member and manager of D Generation X, but he was a completely pointless and unnessesary member who did nothing for this company.

Despite that the WWF's rival company, WCW, has a hugely popular wrestling faction called the NWO increasing WCW's ratings, the WWF now have their own answer to the NWO known as D Generation X.

And while many could argue DX are a rip-off of NWO, the WWF LOVES them already and is eating them up.

D Generation X pretty much personified what was known as the WWF's Attitude era and are even part of the reason it was called that.

They were rebellious, disrespectful, boundary pushing and savage, doing anything that could piss people off, especially the censors.

But...wasn't the Attitude era pretty much like that in general? Hence the name "WWF ATTITUDE"?

In January of 1998, after the entire arena had gone black while the Undertaker's entrance music played, the audience hoping to see the Undertaker, only for the lights to turn on to reveal it's actually Shawn Michaels dressed as the Undertaker whilst he stripped out of that costume...

As D Generation X's Rage Against the Machine-knockoff entrance theme played, Triple H walked to the ring wearing an apron with a rather brash, vulgar quote while holding a huge paper bag in one hand while his other hand was gripping onto a crutch snug under his arm.

You joined in with him, wearing nothing but a short little apron while you rolled and escorted a grill (no, not those diamond covered tooth covers that rappers wear) to the ring.

This got the audience's attention, especially the males, whose eyes were on you wearing nothing but a small little apron, their eyes growing wide.

Women and girls were cheering for Shawn Michaels stripping his outfit off, whereas males were cheering for you dressed in nothing but a short little apron, although you had a thong underneath your apron and some stiletto heels.

Besides males cheering for you, some of them were even making those corny "wolf whistles" at you like how they make at an attractive woman.

Jerry Lawler's eyes, of course, were on you while you walked to the ring wearing nothing but a small apron, he was smiling from ear to ear while his eyes were bugged out.

"Is she wearin' nothin' but an apron?!" Jerry shrieked at the commentary table.

Yes, yes you are.

Your outfit of choice was inspired by Renee Zellwegger's character in the movie "Empire Records", during the scene where she's wearing nothing but a small little apron.

"She's got a barbeque grill!" Jerry shrieked.

"They're gonna have a cookout!" Jim Ross chimmed in on commentary.

When you and Triple H had gotten close to the ring, Shawn was now by the ropes around the ring, where you and Trips both had lifted the barbeque grill up from the floor and handed it to Shawn.

Shawn grabbed that grill and lifted it over the ropes, holding onto that grill and carrying it while he walked to the center of the ring, placing the grill in the middle.

Triple H and you, meanwhile, entered the ring by sliding under the ropes, lifting yourselves up from the ring, whereas Triple H grabbed the paper bag he was previously carrying.

When you and Trips were standing in the ring, you and he walked to the center of the ring where Shawn was, where Triple H pulled out a white chef's hat from the bag he was holding and handed it to Shawn.

Shawn placed that hat on top of his head, trying to fit it around his head, whereas Triple H pulled another chef's hat out and placed it on his head this time.

Trips' chef's hat fell off of his head when he was pointing his index finger to the message on his apron in front of the camera filming him, but your hand grabbed onto the chef's hat that fell off of his head and placed it back on top of his head again, where it thankfully didn't fall off.

What was the message on Triple H's apron?

S*ck the cook, as in, suck the cook, although the letter "u" had to be censored.

Now you know why that apron he wore had an obscene, vulgar quote on it.

Shawn, on the other hand, lifted that Undertaker costume and long haired black wig he was previously wearing on top of the barbeque grill, indicating that you're gonna roast the Undertaker.

Triple H and you were looking down inside that huge paper bag, sticking your hands in that bag and pulling out a bag of marshmallows as well as a little packet of hot dogs, placing those things on top of the grill.

Shawn was holding onto a barbeque fork that was already attached to the grill you brought to the ring.

D Generation X's entrance music faded away and cut off, while Triple H carried a microphone in one of his hands instead of a huge paper bag that he sat down in the ring, Shawn was holding onto and wiggling a hot dog he pulled out of the packet.

"Y'know, Shawn and I both got jumbo weenies!" Triple H stated, pulling another hot dog out of that plastic packet and holding it up. "But y/n, show us what you're bringing to the barbeque, girl!"

While you had an ear to ear shit eating grin plastered on your face and your hands on your hips, you bent your body down and your hand reached down in that plastic bag, pulling out a huge salami, your mouth still grinning while your eyes looked at that huge salami.

You held up that salami with a huge smile on your face like you were presenting this meat like it was something to be proud of.

It was a treat when you bent down, because the audience could see some of your thong underneath your apron.

"That is the BIG stick!" Triple H exclaimed. "Hey Shawn, where'd you get those cool clothes you came out here with? A fire sale?"

"Well y/n, Triple H" Shawn started. "How do you like your Undertaker? Do you like him rare, medium or well done?"

Shawn and Triple H proceeded to cut a promo towards the Undertaker and Owen Hart, stuff you don't give a crap about.

While they were cutting a promo, in particular Triple H, you were staring at Trips with a wide grin on your face like you really wanted him.

You walked closer to him so you could snuggle up right next to him, leaning and pressing your body next to his.

You snuggled yourself next to the opposite part of Triple H's body that didn't have a crutch under his arm.

One of your arms draped across his shoulders, whereas your other hand was on his chest, your index finger drawing circles on his chest.

As you did this to him, your eyes were looking up and down at him while you grinned at him, thirsting over him.

After Triple H was comparing his manhood to Owen's, Triple H offered to show the audience why you stuck with Shawn and Trips instead of the Undertaker and Owen (and anyone else, for the most part, for that matter).

Triple H moved the microphone towards your lips, the camera zoomed in on your face.

"Well, Triple H and Shawn have such big, hot, juicy, delicious meat" you confessed, putting emphasis on the word "delicious". "I can still feel their meat's hot juices in my mouth and running down my throat"

One of your hands moved to your throat and motioned their juices running down your throat, although you didn't choke and strangle yourself.

Men and women got some of the sexual innuendo you were saying, and the women shrieked and squealed when you gushed over Triple H and Shawn's meat, and you're not talking about what they're grilling.

Triple H was grinning whilst you said this about him, his eyes looking at you while you mentioned that.

Shawn, too, was grinning as you gushed over his private parts.

Triple H then moved his microphone back to his mouth.

"Even though I've got her by my side" Triple H stated "For all you California girls out there..."

Women in the audience started cheering and squealing when they heard they were called.

Shawn handed Triple H that huge salami you pulled out of the bag, and as Triple H held that huge meat, he proceeded to make a pun about Ric Flair and then a sexual innuendo, thrusting his crotch while he had that huge salami you pulled out of the plastic bag in front of his crotch.

Speaking of which, while Triple H was holding onto that huge salami, your fingers wrapped around that salami (not his penis) and proceeded to start slowly pumping and cranking your hand up and down that salami like you're masturbating it.

No, you weren't masturbating his penis, but that huge salami you pulled out of a plastic bag.

Sometimes, your fingers rotated around that salami.

As you looked like you were jacking off that salami, the men in the audience loved this, cheering for you, whereas Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler's eyes bugged out of their sockets and were at a loss for words.

You were grinning wickedly from ear to ear as you looked like you were masturbating this huge salami and Shawn was cutting a promo.

Triple H interrupted Shawn's promo sometime, to mention you.

"She's obviously hungry for some of my sausage!" Triple H stated, pointing his thumb to you, to which you nodded your head whilst smiling. "Well, you'll have to wait a while until after this is over"

Your smile then turned into a pout, sticking your bottom lip out and looking disappointed.

"Don't worry" Triple H calmed to you, to which your eyes looked at him. "Shawn and I've got some hot dogs that will fill your buns!"

You smiled from ear to ear, to which the women in the audience shrieked hearing that innuendo, even Shawn cackled a bit hearing that pun.

"She'll have a bite of our hot dogs soon!" Triple H added, thrusting his crotch out while one of his hands made a chopping motion next to his crotch.

The audience got out of their seats and roared in delight, cheering.

"Oh, will you stop that!" Jim Ross said rather angrily.

Shawn proceeded to still cut a promo, you were looking at Shawn or either at Triple H, you looking at Triple H and sometimes Shawn like you wanted to fuck him while you had your mouth grinning at him.

You didn't really like the way Shawn looked with facial hair, Shawn was hotter without it.

_____________________________________________________________

I've always had this fantasy of my female wrestling original character I created being the main female in D Generation X instead of Chyna, as well as this fantasy of my female wrestling OC doing all of this stuff (wearing nothing but an apron, gushing about Triple H and Shawn's meat).

And today is the 4th of July, where people have barbeques!

[stovetuna]

Stony for 30 or 40? I LOVE U SO MUCH UR FICS GIVE ME LIFE 💛💛👏

AHHHH YAY LIFE!!! you and an anon both requested #30, so here’s some classic tony!angst and protective!steve :3 — I PROMISE THERE IS A VERY MUSHY, VERY HAPPY ENDING

#30: “You’re not worth it.” (TW: child abuse, references to alcoholism, Howard being a shitty human being [but what else is new]) 

***

It’s Wednesday, and Wednesday means movie night at the mansion. A time-honored tradition that goes all the way back to the Avengers’ inception, back when Steve was still finding his way out of the ice—literally and figuratively—and Iron Man and Tony Stark were two different people. 

It’s been a long time since those early days, Tony thinks, watching the new team assemble on the couches, loveseats, beanbag chairs, and blankets strewn around the in-home movie theater. The screen isn’t excessively massive, per Steve’s wishes, but the sound is as good as it gets, per Clint’s; Tony updates the hardware year over year to keep up with the times, especially as film goes the way of digital (much to Steve’s chagrin). 

But tonight is Steve’s pick for movie, and Tony wonders if it was planned that way the moment Luke Cage asks what they’re going to watch and Steve gets that glint in his eye. The one that Tony can recognize from a mile away now without even trying, the one that screams “Steve Rogers is a little shit” and that very few people seem to be able to hear. 

Tony groans the moment Steve grins and says, “Home movies!” while revealing two armfuls of reels from behind his back, some of which are so dusty and small, Tony wonders if they’re Steve’s. 

The team settles in with enough snacks to put a rhino in a coma while Tony and Steve head to the back of the room where the vintage projector Tony pulled out of storage for the occasion awaits. 

“Next week, you can pick the movie,” Steve whispers conspiratorially, bumping Tony with a friendly elbow. Tony has to hold himself back from leaning into Steve in response, the way his body feels primed to do and has done for literal years, ever since—god, since always. But Tony knows his interest and affections are very much one-sided, and Tony doesn’t need to flagellate himself over it any more than he already does with everything else in his life. Plus, watching Steve with each of his girlfriends is more than taxing enough.

He’s had years of practice keeping his feelings for Steve from the man. He can handle an elbow and a wink. That shit’s practically child’s play. 

“If footage from my sweet sixteen made it into this lineup, we’re watching all three Die Hards,” Tony replies with a saccharine smile that makes Steve blanch. 

“Tony, no.” 

“Tony, yes.”

“The last time we watched Die Hard, Clint wouldn’t stop talking with a fake German accent for a week.” 

“I know! It was hilarious, and I want to get it on camera this time so I can send it to Alan Rickman. He’ll hate it.” 

Tony giggles at Steve’s huff, which is really a laugh disguised as exasperation, another one of Steve’s tics Tony knows by heart. The pain and joy of knowing that secretly splits Tony right down the middle—the joy of knowing Steve is a much bigger troll than anyone realizes, the pain of wanting to grab him and kiss him for it—but he hides it all with an elbow to Steve’s ribs and a muttered “jerk” under his breath. 

He’s spent the past ten years and change like this—halved by a love that makes him feel whole, which is an equation that shouldn’t work, but does, because Tony’s math is always right—so what’s one more night? In the grand scheme of things, not much, and every second of it is more than Tony could have ever hoped for. 

Together in the darkest part of the room he and Steve work in tandem to load the first reel onto the projector and let it run: it’s early footage of the first Avengers team, recorded off of a news broadcast. Down in front, the rest of the team throws popcorn and jeers, laughing themselves hoarse at the costumes, the villains, the dialogue—“‘He’s a real ball of fire!’” Clint wheezes from his beanbag before Natasha pelts him with Milk Duds—while Steve and Tony sit back behind the projector, shoulder to shoulder, running their own private commentary all the while:  

“I miss that armor.”

“Shut up, no you don’t.” 

“It’s true! Anyways, isn’t vintage all the rage these days? You should bring it back.” 

“I’m not bringing back Pointy-Faced Iron Man and his Roller Skates of Doom, Cap.” 

“Not even for me?” 

Tony slides Steve a look out of the corner of his eye, face still directed toward the screen, a classic are you fucking kidding me? if there ever was one. Steve bats his eyelashes in response, because of course he does. Unfortunately for Steve, Tony is mostly immune to that tactic by now. 

Mostly. 

“Let us watch Die Hard next week and I’ll consider it.” 

“Ugh, Tony…”

“Hey, heart-eyes! Next reel!” someone (see: Bucky) shouts. Not for the first time, Tony’s glad to be concealed in relative darkness back here—even Steve’s enhanced vision won’t be able to make out the blush Tony’s knows is all over his face right now. He also gets a reprieve from sitting so close to Steve, hyperfocused on his warmth and all of the sensory trappings of home that come with it, while he swaps out the old reel for a new one. New-er, rather. He doesn’t look at the case or look at any frames before feeding it through the projector. 

“Alright, you rabble-rousers, pipe down,” he shouts as the image on screen flickers to life. 

“‘Rabble-rousers’?” Steve quirks an eyebrow at him as he sits back down. Tony folds his arms over his chest and shushes him. 

“Don’t start.”

“Ooh, is that you, Tony?” Wanda coos from her place on the loveseat next to Vision. 

“Look at all of that hair! Danny Zuko’s got nothing on you, Stark,” Clint laughs. Tony nails him with a popcorn kernel right in the ear.

The footage unspools, harmless—albeit embarrassing—at first: it’s a home movie from when Tony was young, no more than eight or nine. He’s wearing what looks like the remains of what was once a nice suit, something his parents forced him into, probably, but devolved into undershirt and slacks and suspenders hanging down past his knees. He really was a gangly kid, wasn’t he? 

Tony laughs along with everyone else, warmed by Jarvis’ voice offscreen telling “Young Master Anthony” to show off his latest invention for the camera. He feels Steve’s eyes flicker over to land on him whenever young Tony smiles at the camera or laughs at something Jarvis says, but Tony ignores it. Mostly.

“He reminds me of Steve,” Bucky tells the room when young Tony is shown with a replica of Cap’s shield, posing triumphantly to the sound of Jarvis’ delighted laughter. Jess aww’s. 

“He does, kinda, doesn’t he?” 

“How have I never seen these before?” Steve whispers, leaning closer as he does. Tony swallows hard against the shiver that ricochets down his spine hearing that low voice in his ear. 

“A lot of things of mine you haven’t seen, Cap,” he replies, too late to stop the innuendo from slipping out. He looks at Steve after he says it and almost, almost lets out a gasp: when did Steve get so close? And why is he looking at Tony like that? All intense and considering? 

“Oh, here’s someone else I remember,” Bucky laughs. Tony turns away from Steve, grateful for the excuse, and starts to release the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

It gets caught in his chest the moment he sees himself filling up the screen, young Tony standing alone in Howard’s office, having perched the camcorder on the big oak desk to record himself with Cap’s shield—the real one this time, not a toy. On screen, Tony has his back to the camera, the vibranium shield clutched in his too-small hands. He has to perch it on the floor, its weight just enough to counterbalance Tony’s, but holding it…even now, he remembers the thrill of that first time. The cool touch of vibranium humming under his fingers, the knowledge that he was holding his hero’s greatest treasure…his adult fingers clench against his thighs at the memory. 

But then, the image shifts into a sharper memory still, and Tony feels something old and awful claw its way from somewhere deep in his chest, remembering all too well what comes next. It tastes like bourbon and cigar smoke and the metallic taste blood leaves on the tongue after you’ve been smacked in the mouth. Tony’s hands fly out to clutch the sides of his chair and stick there; he can’t move them to stop the projector in time. It just keeps playing out, each frame worse than the one before. 

Of course he remembers this moment. He remembers it perfectly, because it was the first time Howard really hurt him. Not with his hands, although the bruises did linger longer than usual, after. 

This was the moment when Tony, so tender and impressionable even at that “advanced” age, learned what his father really thought of him. 

That old, awful feeling feels a lot like drowning when he thinks of Steve seeing what’s about to happen, let alone the rest of the team.

“I’m Captain America and I’m here to save you!”

“You’re not saving shit, boy.” Howard stumbles into frame like a bad Vaudeville performer, slurring Tony’s name like an expletive. “Put that down, you fucking brat. You’re not worth it.” 

The blood rushing in Tony’s ears drowns out the sound of voices past and present. All he can see is Howard filling the frame in that horrible tan suit, gripping a bottle of bourbon by the neck. The image catches on young Tony’s terrified expression, the way he hides behind the shield that’s almost as big as he is. He watches his own mouth move—Cap will save me, he’d cried, so confident, so certain that his hero would come and put Howard through the wall and carry Tony away to safety—and then down the bottle comes…

“Turn it off! I said turn it off!” 

Something hits the projector hard enough to not only knock it off the table it was sitting on, but send both hurtling across the room. They smash to pieces against the far wall with a noisy clatter that almost stops Tony’s heart in his chest. 

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the thwap-thwap-thwap of film smacking the floor as the reel spins on and on until coming to a feeble stop. He can hear breathing, heavy and labored and sliding quickly toward panic, and he realizes with a shuddering gasp that it’s him making that sound.

Tony looks up and sees Steve standing where the projector once was, cradling his bleeding hand. The man looks stricken, pale and horrified, worse than if he’d seen a ghost; behind him, the team has inched closer, all of them wearing varying expressions of distress and pity and guilt and sadness, and suddenly Tony can’t bolt out of his chair fast enough. He can’t get away fast enough. He follows his feet out of the room into the corridor and down, down, down to the workshop where it’s safe, where he can’t get in, no one can, not unless Tony lets them. 

Someone is calling his name, but Tony disappears down the stairs before he can figure out who. He bursts through doors he can’t see and staggers over to the closest workbench, sucking in deep, ragged breaths like he can’t catch up to them. Is that a screw loose in his chest cavity, he wonders, gasping, because that rattling sound seems to indicate something has come undone that shouldn’t have. Howard’s dead, Tony reminds himself, over and over again. It’s a fact as true as any algorithm, so why won’t it take? 

JARVIS’s voice moves gently through the noise in Tony’s brain: “Sir, Captain Rogers is asking permission to enter.” 

Steve. 

Tony can’t decide if the thought of Steve seeing him like this helps or worsens the rattling in his chest. Either way he feels like shit, but only one of those ways ends up with Captain America pitying him, or worse. 

He’s so caught up in thinking about all the ways this could backfire he doesn’t realize JARVIS has let Steve into the workshop, regardless of Tony’s feelings on the matter. The realization sets in when Steve’s voice appears close to his ear, soft and low with a frisson of urgency, like he too is slightly out of breath. 

“Tony, it’s just me. It’s okay. I’m going to put my hand on your back.” 

Warmth spreads from Steve’s fingers through Tony’s shirt and into the skin high up on his back between his shoulders. Steve can probably feel how fast Tony’s heart is racing, but spares him his overt concern and instead keeps telling Tony what he’s going to do before he does it: a hand on Tony’s forehead, an arm around his back, asking JARVIS to turn the lights down to thirty-five percent. 

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” 

Tony sags into Steve’s touch, his large, warm hand cradling Tony’s head like something precious; the deeper dark quiets the room around them, makes it less overwhelming, less full of ghosts waiting to cast their own opaque shadows on the empty walls. Tony and Steve are left standing in a dim light Tony knows makes him look sallow; he wavers on his feet, left to borrow from Steve’s strength because he can’t find his own. Lucky for Tony, Steve is right there, braced and ready for anything. Like always.

The rattling has settled somewhat, but Tony still has to rely on Steve to tell him when to breathe and how deeply. He forgets, sometimes, that Steve has experience dealing with panic attacks, which so often came before an asthma attack. Steve once told him that even years removed from his sickly days, he still remembers what it’s like to lose that grip on reality, feeling the heart too acutely as it beats against too-brittle ribs.

While Steve draws on those memories often enough with others on the team, it’s a rare occasion for Tony to be on the receiving end of Steve’s nursing hand like this. Jokes or angry silence over cuts, breaks, and bruises, sure, but this? Tender hands and a voice pitched low and soothing, lullaby-soft, speaking words of gentle encouragement? Tony’s head feels light with it. 

“Do you want to sit down?” Steve asks. Tony shakes his head against his palm. “Okay,” Steve whispers, his voice the only one in the room, which makes for a funny kind of one-sided conversation. Then, before he can think better of it, Tony turns toward Steve, wraps his arms around the man’s impossible waist, and hugs himself close to Steve’s radiating heat. He’s too gone for shame, and too weak; a soft, gentle Steve is hard to resist, even on good days. And this just became a no good, very bad day.

Fucking Howard.

Steve, for his part, takes the hug in stride like they do it every day. Tony likes to imagine it, touching Steve like this whenever he wants to, but that’s all it is—a fantasy. Just like being with Steve is a fantasy, one Tony has entertained for far too many years to count. He satisfies himself with Steve’s friendship, tells himself it’s enough, and if he happens to sleep with the occasional look-alike, that’s nobody’s business but Tony’s (and JARVIS’s, and in one deeply unfortunate instance, Pepper’s). 

Strangers want Tony Stark, the celebrity; Steve wants Tony as a friend and teammate. That’s all. So Tony steals his nice, platonic hug as he trembles and breathes his way out of a panic attack, being careful to avoid nuzzling the soft notch at the base of Steve’s throat the way he wants to. Badly.

He’s so preoccupied with holding all the disparate parts of himself together and hiding them so Steve can’t see, he doesn’t notice Steve’s hands start to rub his back in long, soothing strokes until Tony is half-melted in his steady arms, weak-kneed at how comforted he feels. Steve doesn’t say anything—just keeps moving his hands, up and down Tony’s back, across his shoulders, along his arms, and over again. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this, without motive, ulterior or otherwise; his skin feels warm down to his toes.

“Better?” Steve murmurs. Tony nods against his chest. He doesn’t let go. Neither does Steve, who seems to fold himself over Tony until they’re more like one person than two, standing there breathing together in Tony’s darkened workshop. 

Slowly, thoughts of Howard, of hurt, start to melt back into the shadows. In their place is Steve, filling up all of Tony’s empty spaces with light, even some of the ones he didn’t know he had. For such a strong man, Steve is unbearably gentle, handling Tony the way he might handle spun sugar or thin glass. Tony has never felt so genuinely cared for, and the fact that he can’t pull back and thank Steve with a kiss smarts a little in the face of it. 

That is, it does, up until the moment he feels Steve brush a kiss against where Tony’s hairline meets his forehead, soft and uncomplicated, but lingering, like Steve wants to stay there. To do more. Tony knows that move because he’s imagined doing the exact same thing to Steve, god, thousands of times.

Tony wants so much. Too much. Asking Steve for this would tip things precariously toward the latter. But the question is taken out of Tony’s hands the moment one of Steve’s perches itself under his jaw and tilts his face up.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. 

“It’s ancient history,” Tony replies, maintaining eye contact through sheer willpower when all he wants to do is look at Steve’s mouth, now so close to his. 

“Not to you, it isn’t,” Steve counters, and there’s not much Tony can say to that. “I’ll talk to the team. They might have questions, and you shouldn’t have to answer them. Not tonight, anyways.” 

“I know you’ve got big shoulders, Steve, but you don’t have to take on my baggage on top of everything else.”

As they talk, their bodies never move an inch apart; chests pressed flush against each other, Steve’s fingers splayed along the side of Tony’s neck. All of it—the proximity, the tenderness, the intimacy—feels as natural as the breathing they just did together. Ten-plus years of friendship will do that. But then, the way Steve is looking at him doesn’t really scream friendship. 

It kind of screams I love you. 

Steve gives him that little smirk and says, “Maybe I want to.” Tony scoffs, flicking one of the shoulders in question for good measure. 

“God, how are you still such a horrible liar, Cap? Is there something in the serum that makes it impossible for you to keep a good poker face?”

“This is my good poker face,” Steve replies, and there it is again, the same look Steve gave him earlier before the night spun out like a race car with its wheels blown off: intense, considering, and so, so close. 

Tony swallows nothing but air. Steve, never breaking eye contact, cards his fingers through the hair on the back of Tony’s head and holds them there. 

“If I kiss you right now, will you have another panic attack?” he asks quietly. Not even a blink. The part of Tony’s brain—a scant centimeter, at best—that isn’t currently blasting a hundred sirens at full volume is actually kind of impressed.

“I doubt it,” Tony replies evenly. “I’ll probably just pass out.” 

The smirk becomes a full-blown grin. Steve squeezes his other arm around Tony’s lower back and hums, deep and resonant, in his chest as he leans down to brush his lips feather-softly against Tony’s. 

“You fall, I’ll catch you,” he whispers before dipping in for a proper kiss that floods Tony’s head with incandescent light. It’s chaste and measured and burning with mutual restraint, tastes faintly of the buttered popcorn Steve ate earlier, and the only way it could be better is if it never ended. 

Tony tightens his arms around Steve’s waist, and when Steve pulls away to speak, he doesn’t go far, seemingly content to stand there in Tony’s embrace in the middle of the dimly lit workshop. 

“Still breathing?” he asks. Tony smiles; Steve smiles back. 

“Takes a lot more than that to knock the wind out of me, Cap.”

The way Steve’s eyes darken at that little remark is definitely something Tony intends to investigate further, later. For now, he leans into the hand now resting on his cheek and sighs. 

“We’ll test that theory another time,” Steve husks before leaning forward to press a kiss to each eyelid. Tony hums happily, sinking further into Steve’s arms. “Can I carry you to bed?” 

Tony gives him a look. “I’m heavy,” he says. 

Steve just smiles, kisses Tony like he’s been doing it forever, and replies: “You’re worth it.”

- - - 

see? happy endings. fuck howard.