#damn i need to make a post of just them being drawn next to each other

[101suouexpressions]

Friend who's scared to death and friend who's always (⌒▽⌒).

[joffyworld]

The Wall of Mutual Appreciation - Part I

@machetelettuce

You officially have the cutest Narinder boba eyes I've ever seen. They utterly confound me in the most captivating way. Perfect Nari Boba, 10/10! Not to even mention your lamb, that motherfucker is the cutest lil lamby ever made. So fluffy, so cuddly, so smiles. I need them in my life, thank you for making that possible.

@caffeinecramp

Sozo. Such an underrated and underutilized character is most au's but by God did you nail the design. He's so fluffy and neat, he looks so friendly and pure. But behind that fluffy exterior is the mad eyes of a scientist turned delusional zombie, and you portray it beautifully.

@halftoastedwaffle

Expressions! I'll admit I don't really know how to phrase this perfectly, but your expression work is flawless. Each face conveys such a beautiful range of emotions, even with characters that are super hard to use for facial expressions like Shamura. Such a powerful skill to have when telling a story through visual media, and you've got it down to an art form unto itself.

@thetireddoktor

Ugh Shamura. Shamura Shamura Shamura. Don't get me wrong Dok, your bishop designs are all absolutely stunning, I admire them constantly. But my God, you sure know how to draw that damn spider. I am deeply, deeply in love with that damn spider, and you've only made that feeling so much worse in the best way possible. You've got a real knack for drawing that evil bastard, I adore it.

@flowersgoldandgraphite

I love your Leshy to death and back. He's so smiley, so fluffy and so smug. Not to mention, he absolutely killed that dress you put him in. He looked beautiful, like he's always deserved to. The Leshy stan community thanks you dearly, your contributions will never be forgotten!

@z00lea

Undisputably the King of Cannibalism and Gore in the fandom. I don't know anyone that quite matches your crazy sense of detail when it comes to guts and violence, but somehow keeps it intimate and sensual at the same time.

@fanofthelambalt

I cannot overstate how much I adored when you went around with Vitas and interacted with so many other lambs. It was such a beautiful moment of community and made my heart so much warmer, I'll never forget those posts. So wholesome, so fun and so cute. It was perfect, and it reflects your kind and fun heart so well. Also your Helob drawing? Still the most beautiful piece of art I've seen of him, and it deserves the due credit. Such an under-drawn character, but man did you COOK with that. So so cool, so cool

@midia666

Horror! Few have mastered horror in all its subtleties quite the way you have. Your designs are dripping in horror and unease even before the gore and limbs begin to fly or dismantle, and it's such a treat to see. Not to mention, your Narinder and Shamura tear my fucking heart out. They're so tragic and pained, it's incredible really. You have a real knack for unnerving me in all the best ways, it's incredible to behold.

@wolsalwastaken

RATIL!!!!!!!!! RATILLLLLLLL!!!!!!! I fucking adore Ratil you don't understand, they're possibly my favourite main character OC and they're such an adorable lil fella. So so perfect in every way, I love the lil rat so much. Also when you put them in a dress I screamed, so bonus points for that! Your art style in general is just so fucking adorable and flexible to different tones, it's so good.

@yourtaquitos

Siliiness and seriousness, you always know the balance. You're so beautifully capable of shitposting one minute, then blowing my mind with a masterpiece the next. Your anatomy is delicious, your silliness is divine, and your art is deeply appreciated.

@lime202

Comfort. That's what I think of when I see your art. It's so perfectly comforting in every way. It's detailed, but simple, with beautiful intricacies threaded without being overwhelming. Your art reminds me of Spring and blooming flowers, it's so warming to the sight. Also your Leshy? So beautifully fluffy and cuddly, I will always love him.

@stitchesofsoulsart

There's so much love in every single post you make. It's so beautiful, the way you draw such wholesome loving fun and comfort the masses with your beautiful designs and creativity. You're equally capable of angst and drama, but goddamn the comforting fluff is what drags me in personally the most. That Nari design too? To die for. No other way to put it exists, it's peak Narinder alternate design. So fucking cool and pretty ugh.

@blueaceart

Okay this is super specific but the way you draw Shamura just intrigues me. The tired eyes and sunken sockets, like the weight of knowledge and the burdens of war have weighed upon them for eons. It's so beautifully harsh and real, and I never see anyone else take up the challenge of it in such a subtle way. So cool.

@shrimpsketchy

Pirates! I am utterly obsessed with your piracy au idea, it's so embedded in my brain and I genuinely screamed when I saw it. It's beautiful, such a unique concept I've not see anyone else attempt and WOW was the art that accompanied it just stunning on a whole other level. Genuinely art gallery tier art, I'm in awe at it every single time.

@jomo-is-here

Where the fuck to even start with you Jomo. Jomo, formerly known as Fwick, is the subject of my largest conspiracy yet. I am fucking CONVINCED that Jomo is the dev of the game that does the official artworks for special events and DLC, because holy SHIT is Jomo's art in a tier of its own. Jomo is the fucking Michael Jordan of Cult of the Lamb art, rivaled by very VERY few. The environments are splendid, the characters are adorable and it's all done in such a beautifully similar style to the official artwork of the game. You could easily tell me Jomo IS the person doing the official art, but if I'm being honest? Jomo is better (in my opinion). But don't get it twisted, you can tell the difference with a mere glance and Jomo's uniquely recognisable style is a unique and adorable edition that wouldn't go awry in a museum or an award show. This shit is top tier lemme tell you, I can't glaze it enough.

@scared-lantern

Lantern approaches art with a beautiful style and flair that few can match. Your lamb is one of the most adorable designs around and by God do you know how to maximise that cuteness in every way. Not to mention, your painted art style is just a real marvel for the eyes. I can't eat it enough, I'm always going up for seconds.

@jellyseafish

I absolutely adore the silly fun you upload with your art. Your lamb is so big eyed and fun to stare at as they get up to hijinks, even if the hijinks are just them staring back with big ol' peepers. Cutest patootest around, and boy do they love a good shenanigan. I adore them, I can't help it.

@shadbells

GOLD. Shad has a flair for the decorative and beautiful when it comes to art, and boy does it shine through in such a unique and beautiful way. The designs you make, especially for your lambs and Nari, has really quickly become some of my favourites Shad. The gold accents of the clothes and jewellery really highlight their beauty so well, and let me say personally they are BEAUTIFUL. Absolutely stunning designs with a delightfully devilish side when they want, I adore them in every way. 10/10, would marry and smooch, then get stabbed probably.

@ccarmody101

Your lamb design is beautiful as hell and your Nari and Goat bring me some seriously needed joy when I stumble on them again. You were actually one of the first COTL artists I stumbled on when I got Tumblr, and I'll always appreciate how you fed my addiction just as I took my first steps.

@shind91

Uniqueness. That's the first word that pops up when I think of Shin's art. The way you translate these furry fellas into humanised and more realistic designs is just bafflingly cool to me, it's such a brilliant translation that few people can so perfectly pull off. It's a genre of art I didn't know I needed, but by God do I love to see it now that I've seen your art more than ever before in my life. It's such a unique talent, and I cherish it every time I see it.

@spilycoris

Armour! I love the armour you've given your lamb, it's so beautiful while still being believable that they'd wear it. It's like a beautiful but functional jewellery, and really pulls the outfit together! Absolutely adorable, 10/10!

@angry-ursidae

Ursidae art, some of the most fulfilling silliness there is on Tumblr. Your Narilamb fuels my life, and your Shamura makes me die laughing. I don't know why, I just love that design it's so silly to me for some reason and I can't help but adore it. I love Ursidae art, this is known.

@frecktheheck

When I think of COTL character designs, Freck is one of the first names that pops into my mind. Between the anatomy, the charisma and character that blossoms in the characters designs and the historically-designed outfits, there's not a single thing you do badly, or even mediocre for that matter. Every single piece is a gift woven from the threads of love and passion, and the art style reflects your beautiful heart in a way that's so pure and comforting to all who see it. I cannot, and will never, have enough Freck art in my life. I can't stop devouring it and begging for more like a camel in the Sahara, and I wouldn't ever want that to change.

@haggz-is-here

If I had to give someone an award for "Person most likely to be a time travelling renaissance artist" it would be you Haggz. Your work, simply put, is INSANE in it's quality and baffling in its detail. I cannot, no matter how long I stare at it, understand how you do it. On a damn iPad no less. Da Vinci's legacy lives on in you, and by God do you do it proud. I can't praise it enough, it's just stunning every time. Stunning, there's no other word for it. Other than shocking, maybe?

@cultistic-ann-aka-sannaliel

Sanna is, quite frankly, a fucking genius at detail. There is nobody better for the minutae of an art piece than Sannaliel, and I will die on that hill. I have yet to be anything other than shocked and awe-inspired at a Sanna art piece, and I doubt that will ever change.

@hotchocolatedemon

A writer and a drawer, a rare double-talent! Not only that, but both are done to a wonderful degree! Never let it be said that hotchocolatedemon isn't a demon in the creative fields! I guess a deal with the devil would explain that 🤔

@tidalfoam

I fucking love your little gremlin ratsona. They're such a little thing, I adore them. I don't think there's a better meet the artist than your one if I'm being honest. It's perfect, sometimes less truly is more.

@loloelia

Lolo! The way your art has improved, even in the tiny amount of time I've sort of known you, has been tremendous, and it beautifully reflects your bubbly personality. Your positivity is a force for good in a negative world, and your art reflects that with every doodle and drawing! Don't ever change or doubt yourself, you're an amazingly joyful person to see around the place!

@cj-the-random-artist

This motherfucker manages to do two things at the same time. One: Draw the cutest lil fellas I've ever seen. They go to tea parties, they hug and slow dance, they go to TEA PARTIES. Two: educate the fuck out of me. I will always mention how CJ's QPR au was the first time I'd ever even heard of a QPR, l t alone been shown how it functions. It's so beautiful and passionately crafted, and reminds me how important representation is in art. There's nobody that does it better, and warms my heart in such uniquely beloved ways.

@twooftheluckyones

Gem and Cake!

To Gem: Your art heals a child in me I didn't know was wounded and in need of a bandage. It's so cute and pure, but so versatile in that too. Una is an utter delight, and Narinder is dripping with edge but without sacrificing the clear goopy interior that lies in his heart.

To Cake: You are, simply put, a writer in a tier purely of your own. The way you weave a tale with a myriad of writing tricks is just stunning to behold. If Gem is the heart, then you're the soul. There is nobody I take pride in learning from more than you, and you set a new standard with every piece you write. Never let it go said that Cake the Lucky can't write a bonafide masterstroke whenever he pleases, and in any genre he pleases. Smut? Action? Romance? Melancholy? Call this guy, he's the one to do it. Don't even get me started on how these two work together to make this shit sparkle, I'll be here all day.

@bogor-o

Have you ever seen an art piece so beautifully cuddly that you just wept because you can't actually hug the characters on your screen? Well, lemme tell you something. Bogor is the fucking expert of that. If you've ever wanted to see a character that looks like they could kill you with a stare and hug you back to life in the same breath, then go take a gander at Bogor's art, you will NOT be disappointed.

@greedykrab

Your skill in taking the abstract and turning it into the deeply developed is outstanding and profound. I will never quite "understand" your art style, and I think that's what draws me to it. It's like a beautiful puzzle you could stare at for days and never fully replicate, so uniquely yours in a world of already unique artists and styles. So so good.

@the-artist-grimm

The art? Spectacular, 10/10 on the cuteness and the violence when necessary. But the writing? Oh my God you crank that up to 11! Crimson Angel has torn my heart out every single step of the way and I'll never stop singing its praises. Your writing of parenting and the relationship between two firey but pained loves? Immaculate. Utterly perfect in every way.

@ro-bee

KIRAN. The beautiful baby boy I had the absolute honour of helping name. I will forever fawn over Pupigoat and your beautiful art style that brings them to life. Their pain is wholesome but brutal, and your skill at drawing it brings it to life so wholly and passionately. Not to even mention the rest of your art, it's all so unique and wonderful.

@losing-catharsis

A fellow poet amidst a sea of visual artists! The way you weave words into song without a rhyme scheme utterly fascinates me, and was a huge part of what inspired me to try free verse poetry in a few of my own works, to very little succes xD. Your a wonderful writer, never stop Cath <3

@zynical-forg

You draw, without any competition or contest, the CUTIEST PATOOTIEST Patooties ever. They're so small, so round and so lovable. Perfectly drawn blorbos every time, ready for some cute adventures together. Beautiful, 10/10 would fawn over again.

@yellowflowrs

Carillonneur. Need I say more? Okay but seriously now, you crafted the absolute BEST swap au I've ever seen in my life design-wise. The character traits? Hilarious and intriguing. The clothing? Beautifully horror themed. The actual character's designs and anatomy? Oh my God. Next level insane. The Carillonneur? The Rinder? So so good. I just devour them every time I see them. I've had to limit myself to my favourite of your au's or I'll be here till I die of old age, but I love them all so so so so sooooo much ugh. I can't wait to see what you get up to next, be it COTL or something else entirely!

@eliza-forget

You. You are the absolute most powerful MACHINE of creativity I have ever born witness to. I don't understand how you never seen to run out of ideas, motivation or passion, it's such a beautiful display of the human spirit at its finest. To top that off, the detail on every piece is just BAFFLING to point my eyeballs at. Every. Single. Post is just dripping with detail, whether that be clothing, design, anatomy, lighting, perspective or dialogue. It's insane how you produce artwork so fast, so efficiently and compromise nothing when it comes to vision, detail or passion. I genuinely feel inspired when I see your newest work almost every single day, I can only aspire to be like you and your bountiful spirit the same way someone aspires to a myth of the ancients and their acts of heroic bravery.

@loullipopx

Versatility. Lou does it all and goddamn do they do it well. Cuteness galore? Look no further than the Pokémon au and their designs. You'll cry they're so cute, and then you'll cry because you know you'll never see something as cute ever again in your life. Beautiful and sensual art? Go look at the pinups she did for the Lamb and Nari during the bunny suit trend. They have scarred my mind in such a beautiful way, I'll never forget it. Loulli makes that shit pop, and by God does it pop good as hell. Don't even get me started on the music she makes. Yeah that's right I'll say it publicly, this fucker makes music. Good music. GREAT music! The skillset goes above and beyond, and boy does it astound me every time I learn something new.

@lotus-duckies

Cannibalism? Check. Cuteness? Check. Religious themes? Check! The way you weave religion into your pieces is utterly fascinating to me, and I still remember our little theological talks super fondly. Every single piece is utterly soaked in symbolism, metaphor and a diabolical amount of love and passion, even when the love involved leads to a cannibalistic eating of a spouse or two. I cannot praise the detail put into these pieces enough, and the art style just emboldens those details tenfold. Never before have I seen an art style take me by the hand and plunge me into a sea of joy so quickly and vividly, and I'll always love it dearly.

@mudtrash

Two words. Anatomy. Ears. Your anatomy work on your lil sillies is utterly fantastic, especially your rare naked Nari. But the real prize in my eyes? The way you draw ears. I don't know why, but you give those motherfuckers the most beautiful flop I've ever seen. Nari? Big dorito ears. Lamb? Lil gloppy floppas. Goat? Middle ground flopperoos. They're all just so perfect. Your style is so cute and fun without sacrificing detail, it's to die for. For me though, the ears are the cherry on top of an already perfect cake. 10/10 dude, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

@streetchicken

Streetchicken cookin in the kitchen like it's KFC. Make no mistake, this motherfucker can COOK. Gay soldiers? Absolutely. Gay furry gods? Not a problem. Just a dude? Light work. Frog is an artiste behind the brush, but lemme tell you the real secret. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, can draw a bear or a hunk quite like Streetchicken. Not a soul. This motherfucker can COOK when it comes to big huggable bears and rough-and-tumble fellas, and the competition never truly stood a chance. Whether it be Captain Price, Soap or Leshy, there are hunks abound. I thank you for your contributions to the bear community Frogo, never stop cooking 🫡

@faebunnyleap

Smiles! That's my immediate thought when I think of Fae. There's not a single piece of yours that doesn't have me smiling at the hilarity, the domestic bliss or the calming of it. Every single post is crafted with such a refined and calm hand, and 9 times out of 10 your characters are always so smiley and free. Your art style helps that so much too, it's so diverse. Your sketches are so silly and fun, but when you turn it up to 11 and get serious it's such a fantastic result. Also, I think about that fuckass pagliaci twins post so often it hurts. It's so good, top 3 shitposts ever. I love it, thank you so much.

@neon-virus

Size! I absolutely adore how you use your characters and their size differences, with such a crazy array of heights and builds. Goat is absolutely HUGE, a real unit, while Lamb is like the tiniest lil cutie patootie ever made. Nari acts as this weird middle ground where he's still super tall, but Goat's such a monster that he looks kinda normal? I love it so much. Also wow, your shading and rendering on your more detailed full pieces? Utterly splendid, I cannot ever be sated from my greed for more. So so beautiful.

@paintpaintpaintman

Trad art central over here. Your paintings are honestly stunning and it's so refreshing to see some trad art standing out amongst the digital age. Your designs are awesome too, and seeing them painted to life is so wholesomely warming. I get a shot of giddiness in my veins whenever you post, and I don't see that feeling ever fading in the slightest!

@cconfusedkat

The cuddliest designs in the whole world, so full of joy and whimsy. Every design bursts with a huggable energy that just sucks you in. It's beautiful, I adore it. There's not a single character that I wouldn't snuggle, pat on the head and feed a cookie for being such a delightful lil fella, I love them. I can only hope that they would love me.

@teruuu-main

Teru, Teru, Teru. Your brilliance knows no bounds. Every au just drips with personality and beauty, each so unique in the ways they shine. Old Faith Academy? Beautifully tropey, so comforting and warm. Compulsion of Flesh? Ohhh BOY lemme tell you about Compulsion of Flesh. Never have I seen someone write two characters that are so fucking VILE that I cannot help but love them. They're insane, they literally eat each other, and I eat it up like a starved hyena. I can't help it, they've devoured my brain since day one, and the saying is true, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." This au will always be one of my favourites, and one of the first fan projects I ever got obsessed with. Words don't quite match my love for it, so just take some sounds. SNOOB. GLOOB. GLEEB. HAPAP! And so on.

@kikorikoiko

Your improvement in the time I've known you has been absolutely immense, and I adore the way you draw Astaroth and Kallamar. You've brought the Astaroth character to life in a way few have, and it's beautiful every time. Devs hire Kiko please, we need tragic polygamous gays to be canon (as if they aren't already).

@junoberrii

Cuteness. Pure and simple cuteness. There is not a single un-cute bone in Juno's wrist I swear to God. Every single post is just the cutest shit imaginable. So cute, in fact, that I constantly forget that the lamb is canonically a mass murderer, and that Nari is an asshole. If you want fluff, and you want it FLUFFY, go to Juno and just stare at the art on display. It heals your soul man, it really does.

@spiderin-space

Talk about versatility! Spider writes, and writes a damn fine story too! Not only that, but such a passionate and dedicatedly written story, with such a beautifully paced yet long winding story that leaves you always waiting for an update. The art though? Oh man the art. Cuddly, cute and joyful but with a perfectly conveyed sense of fear whenever Spider needs to put the brakes on the fun zone. Spider knows their shit, and does it perfectly to a T. Don't sleep on spider, that spider knows how to write a story that bites in the night, or soothes in the daytime. Take your pick, you won't be disappointed.

[heavens-crown]

And The Were Neighbors PT.3

A/N: There is a brief description of prior domestic violence, it is not graphic details but is talked about

Warnings: Angst, mention of DV, minor wound care

Master list

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“It’s a date.”

When the door to his apartment shut behind him Robby had to lean against it for support. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spent time with a woman like that, especially one who just seemed to get him. Groaning, he scrubbed his hands over his face. He needed to get it together, he was acting like a horny teenager. Spending half the night trying to fight off an erection had not been in his horoscope for the day he was sure. 

“Get it together,” He muttered to himself. Stalking into the kitchen he grabbed a protein bar and sat heavily on his couch. Apparently peace was too much for him to ask for because the moment he sat down his mind assaulted him with image after image of Delilah. Before his mind could continue to perverse everything his new found friend did his phone began ringing. Grateful for the distraction he grabbed it from the coffee table and answered it. 

“Where the fuck do we get the physical patient sheets?” It was Jack, Robby’s coworker and begrudged best friend. 

“Well hello to you too. I’m doing great thanks for asking.” Robby chuckled hearing Jack’s annoyed huff. “Check in the filing cabinet near my desk. They should be in there if not I got no idea.” 

“All the computers decided now was the best time to just shut down and not work and shit is just crazy here,” Robby could hear him shuffling through papers while he grumbled under his breath. “Found them, thanks brother.” With that Jack hung up. 

Robby shook his head in amusement, he was used to Jack being rather prickly so the attitude didn’t bother him much. Now that it was silent again in his apartment Robby’s mind began to wander again and this time he didn’t stop it. Christ he was a dirty old man, he had no business wondering how soft her skin was. Or how she’d look spread out underneath him while he worked his way down her body. As his mind continued to wander a thought struck him, making him grab his phone. She had mentioned her art blog where she advertised her work, she had even given him the name of it in passing since it was apparently a joke of some kind. 

It didn’t take him long to find it, and when he did he felt a flush work its way up his neck. The profile picture was her alright and when he began scrolling through the posts he damn near threw his phone. The first post that popped up was an art piece she recently finished, tentacles held a woman who looked eerily like Delilah in the air. The woman's legs were spread open and even though it was blurred he could tell the tentacles were in between her thighs, while another one was shoved down her throat. Fucking christ, Robby thought as he continued to scroll through the posts. She hadn’t been kidding when she had warned him about how graphic they could get. One post in particular caught his attention. In the description was a link to a secondary blog that was apparently for all her explicit work. Before he could stop himself he had clicked the link. 

A full hour had gone by the time Robby had finally found the willpower to put his phone down. Apparently the second blog was more of her personal art along with random things she wanted to post at will. When it wasn’t monsters and women it was one particular character drawn in various scenarios. His first look through the blog he had failed to notice the captions and tags on each post but when he went back through his breath had hitched.

-I just want to be someone's toy. Is that too much to ask for?

That caption had been with another drawing of the character she seemed to favor bent over a couch. A fist was bunched in her hair pulling her head back while the other hand gripped her hip holding her in place. Robby’s gut had twisted when he’d seen the caption and he had to stop himself from picturing him and Delilah in that pose. He groaned when he felt his dick throb and laid his head back against the couch. He was a grown man and he should have better self control. A minute passed with no signs of his hard on going away before he groaned and shoved his hand down his pants. Hopefully Delilah never found out that her neighbor was jerking himself off to thoughts of her. 

Delilah busied herself with finishing up a makeshift breakfast while trying to ignore just how horny she was. After Robby had left she had tried to sleep and when she failed at that she had tried to masturbate since that usually helped her sleep. Spoiler: it hadn’t worked. Even using her favorite vibrator hadn’t done jack besides make her over stimulated. So she wasn’t in the best of moods but at least she had cinnamon rolls and fruit to look forward to. Her phone dinged, pulling her attention away from the fruit she was chopping. Before she knew it she had sliced her finger instead of the cantaloupe.

“Fuck!” She yelped. Dropping the knife she grabbed a tea towel and wrapped it around her finger. Tears welled in her eyes as the wound throbbed. Her morning was looking like a real shit show, a few tears rolled down her face as she attempted to survey the damage done to her finger. Before she could there was a knock at the door. With a sniffle and attempt at wiping her Delilah made her way to the door, opening it to Robby standing there. He was all smiles until he saw the tears and her clutching the towel to her hand. 

“Jesus are you ok? What happened?” Robby pushed himself into her apartment gently cradling her hand. He peeled back the tea towel as she explained what had happened. Delilah sniffled as more tears gathered in her eyes. She knew she was crying from more than just the cut, everything was threatening to overwhelm her. 

“I’m sorry for crying so much,” She muttered as he continued to survey the damage. Frowning at her he pressed the towel back to her hand. 

“Why are you apologizing? You’re hurt it’s natural to cry when you get hurt,” He brushed some of her hair out of her face. “Sit on the couch, I'm going to grab my first aid kit. Thankfully you don’t need stitches.” Before she could argue with him he was herding her to the couch and only left once she had sat down. When he returned he sat on her coffee table directly in front of her. His legs bracketed hers as he grabbed supplies out of it. Once he had what he needed pulled on a pair of gloves before gently pulling her hands towards him.

“I’m gonna clean around the cut just to get some of this blood off. Once that's done I'm gonna put these butterfly bandages on it ok?” When she nodded her consent he started cleaning off her hand. “I’m going to use this mild antiseptic solution, it’s gonna sting a bit.” When it did begin stinging Delilah winced.

“Shit you weren’t kidding,” more tears gathered as she tried to not flinch away from him.

“I know I'm sorry just hold still a moment longer,” Robby said as he finished up cleaning the wound. When she took in a shaky breath he gave her a warm smile. “That’s it good girl, take in nice deep breaths for me.” Delilah prayed to whatever higher being there was that he didn’t notice her squeeze her thighs together at his ‘good girl’ comment. Jesus she was a wreck, she shouldn’t be lusting after her neighbor while he bandaged her up. 

“I’m sorry again for crying,” She said softly. “I think it was just sort of a straw that broke the camel's back. Things haven’t  been great up to me moving here.” Robby finished applying the bandages to her finger. He didn’t let go of her hand as he studied her face. 

“If you want to talk about it you can. I’m a really good listener," he offered. His thumb was rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand while his other hand gently cupped her wrist on her non injured hand. She hesitated for the briefest moment, but seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the way he didn’t push her to share anything made her crack. 

“I have this ex, we met when I was 19 and he was 29. My parents had just died and I was an emotional wreck. He made me feel important and showered me with gifts, it's why when he suddenly criticized anything I did or got in my face during an argument I didn't immediately see what was happening,” Delilah paused, taking a shaky breath. “When I was 21 he started hitting me. It just escalated from there until two years ago he threatened to kill me if I left him. My friend Cherry managed to convince me that he’d kill me even if I stayed so I packed a bag with anything important and I left.” 

“Delilah,” Robby started. 

“You don’t have to say I'm sorry or anything, I know people tend to feel a little uncomfortable at first when I talk about this stuff.” Another deep breath and she felt less shaken. “After I left I bounced around alot, never staying anywhere for long. It was only a year ago that I reactivated my blogs so I could go back to art commissions. Then about 3 months ago my grandma called saying that she was going into a nursing home here in Pittsburgh and she wanted me to be close by. So i decided fuck it, and moved here.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, Robby seemed lost for words and Delilah was just staring down at her hands still held in his. The timer on the oven dinged startling both of them. Laughing a bit Delilah pulled her hands out of his grip and went to stand. 

“That’s the cinnamon rolls, let me go get them before they burn,” she went to stand but Robby stopped her.

“I’ll get them you sit and rest,” He said. “Doctors orders.” Winking at her he got up and made his way into the kitchen. Delilah turned so she could watch him in the Kitchen. He moved around easily, pulling the tray of cinnamon rolls out of the oven and placing them on the stove to cool. He also put the bloodied knife and cutting board in the sink and washed them off. 

“I got the icing ready for the cinnamon rolls. So in a few minutes I can come in there and we can ice them up,” Delilah said, enjoying watching him move about. Robby shot her a mark glare, his fits on his hips. 

“What part of the doctor's orders do you not understand?” He scolded playfully. Making his way back to the couch he dropped down next to her and sighed as if she were a troublesome child. “Am I going to have to tie you to this couch to get you to sit still?” 

Oh my god, Delilah thought. Logically she knew he didn't mean it that way, but her brain still kicked into overdrive at the images that statement produced. He was smirking at her, as if thinking she wouldn’t clap back. Before she could stop herself she found herself talking. 

“My safewords ‘banana’ if you really want to play that game.”

Seeing the satisfied smirk on Delilah’s face damn near made his control snap. It took Robby a moment to get his thoughts together since he honestly hadn’t meant to threaten to tie her down, nor was he expecting her to say that. 

“Cat got your tongue?” She teases. Sitting back with a triumphant look on her face Robby makes a split decision. 

“Keep it up little girl, and i’ll put you over my knee,” it’s not a threat but a promise. He watches as her pupils dilate just slightly and a flush works its way up her face. It’s at that moment Robby has a lightbulb realization. She’s just as attracted to him, and fuck if that doesn’t make some of his self control start to fray. He’s leaning toward her about to say something completely inappropriate when all of a sudden his phone is blaring. Frowning he pulls it out of his pocket and he feels his stomach drop when he sees the message flashing across the screen. 

[MCI Alert: Pittsburgh PA - Train derailment]

[ckret2]

Answering the second half of this ask now.

Yeah, I'm interested in Jack/Aku. It's not my favorite ship in the fandom*, but it's up there.

(*My favorite ship in the fandom is Aku/Scaramouche and I won't derail this post by talking about it but please. Somebody ask me. Give me the excuse I need.)

For reference here's my Does Aku Is Gay? post (the ultimate conclusion is "my god, I think he is does gay") and a post of a few random headcanons about Jack & Aku's relationship in a general/platonic sense.

When it comes to shipping I think "could that work out?" is the wrong/less interesting question. Like, in this case, no, in canon I don't think it could work out.

The more interesting question is "what would it take for it to work out?

The first step is you have to decide that, if there were no dealbreakers, each would find what the other one has going on sexy and/or romantically attractive. And that's a matter of pure headcanon. Personally I prefer headcanoning that a ship's compatibility is rooted in being drawn to each other's personalities rather than physical traits, but that's a matter of taste.

Jack seems pretty exclusively into babes but you could go "well maybe he ISN'T. Maybe he's bi and into redheads." Or you could go "Aku's half-seduced Jack as a hot babe so many times that those emotions just kind of eventually transferred over to Aku in his real form." Or "due to some extremely complicated plot reasons and/or a genderbend AU, Aku is now long-term disguised as a hot babe and/or is a hot babe." Or "Jack's sexually attracted to women but romantically attracted to whatever."

We have no hints about what, if anything, Aku is into. What we know is that until he meets Ashi, he's pretty damn sure he hadn't done anything that would give him kids, but that could mean a LOT of things. So you can go ham. Make up any bullshit you want. "He's into the strong silent stoic type." "The reason Aku calls himself 'shogun of sorrow' is because he actually thinks samurai are SUPER sexy and likes fantasizing about getting to order around thousands of them." "When he gained sentience his sexual preferences imprinted upon the first living thing he saw, and like,, Jack is the emperor's son." "Aku can't get off unless his life is in danger and he's spent decades trying to prevent Jack from catching on during their battles." "Aku is a Thing Of Evil that has Never Known Kindness so if he's on the receiving end of Jack's endless sympathy & generosity ONE TIME he's done for." Anything. Go wild.

The second step is getting past the dealbreakers.

This is the hard part.

"Jack is trying to kill Aku" and "Aku destroyed Jack's home, has tormented him for years, and is actively oppressing the whole planet" are dealbreakers. But even if they didn't have that history and were meeting for the first time with none of that going on, "Jack is a heroic do-gooder" is probably a dealbreaker for Aku (unless you wanna headcanon "Aku has an embarrassing kink for heroes" or something) and "Aku is, like, just evil, and his life goal is to be as evil as possible" is DEFINITELY a dealbreaker for Jack.

If you don't wanna make it a ROMANTIC ship you could get around it by giving them reasons to be attracted to each other, skip over giving them reasons to like each other, and just make it hate sex. Combine "Aku gets off to being imperiled" with something like "spending his puberty in combat training made Jack get turned on by subjugating an opponent" and end up with something like "after an hour-long battle Jack's got his sword to Aku's throat, You Won't Guess What Happens Next (it isn't Aku dying)." Or go for the traditional "the villain has captured the hero and is now torturing him (erotically)." There's a billion variations for hate sex.

But if you DO want it romantic—or even just platonically friendly with benefits—you gotta deal with those dealbreakers.

Various options I can think of, in no particular order:

1. Instead of "Aku is made out of Pure Evil" make it "Aku is made out of Pure Darkness, which everybody just assumed is evil," and since Aku was treated like some sort of arch-villain from his creation he just took it for granted that yes he is evil and never bucked against that role. Taking this route opens up the possibility that: 1) Aku could realize he's not inherently evil (or maybe something could cause Jack to realize it and go "hey what gives?" so Aku realizes it next), 2) Aku has an identity crisis as he realizes his entire life is built around the belief that he's something he never was, 3) *insert some reason to motivate Aku to change instead of just go "oh well, who cares about nature vs nurture, I embrace being evil ✌️"*, 4) shove Aku down a redemption arc, perhaps with assistance from Jack who's cautiously sympathetic now that he knows Aku's somewhat of a victim here of being unnecessarily pigeonholed into a life of villainy, and 5) maybe seal the deal by going back to the past to undo all the evil from the start so that now bam Aku's never actually done anything bad and Jack doesn't have to feel guilty about liking him now, if you want a nice tidy uncomplicated happy ending.

I'm not a fan of this because I prefer for Aku to be actually (and joyfully) inherently evil, but that's a matter of personal taste. You can make a compelling plot out of this scenario, and who doesn't enjoy taking the most irredeemable villain character possible and trying to finagle a redemption arc anyway?

2. Go with "Aku isn't inherently pure evil, everyone just sorta assumed it" except Aku knows and he just likes being evil, then insert a reason to force him to change and take the redemption arc. Like "there's a BIGGER threat that's gonna DESTROY THE EARTH and Jack & Aku have to TEAM UP to STOP it—and OH NO, it turns out THE ONLY THING THAT CAN SAVE EARTH is Aku doing something GOOD and POSSIBLY SELFLESSLY SELF-SACRIFICIAL! I hope making this choice doesn't irrevocably change his personality from now on!"

Again, not my taste because I prefer the challenge of imagining him actually Pure Evil; but also again, that's just my personal taste and the story could work.

3. say Aku's still pure evil, but for some reason for the greater good greater evil? his own self-interest, Aku has to ACT in ways that are good, against his own nature, and then contrive the plot such that making the change a permanent part of his behavior is mandatory. This'll take effort to pull off convincingly, but that's what would make it impressive if it was done right. Maybe allow him some "acceptable" avenues to do evil. ("yeah you can torture these guys, they're serial killers. Sure you can burn down the ruthless bandits' camp.")

4. Keep the hate and keep the dealbreakers but force them in some kinda situation where they each see in the other the traits that you've decided they each personally find attractive. Maybe stick them in a situation where they CAN'T continue their mutual murder attempts and thus it's temporarily irrelevant (Aku's powers are being suppressed + Jack's lost his sword—AND THEY'RE SNOWED IN TOGETHER and there's ONE BED and it'll be ALL NIGHT before the weather clears up enough for them to travel to the town where Jack's sword was left in the lost & found and Aku dropped the antidote to this power-suppressing curse), and so as long as they can't do anything about their hate, why not pretend for a few hours that it doesn't exist, and pretend... It's probably gonna have a tragic ending, most likely they go back to the canon status quo—but YOU know there's secret yearning for A Love That Can Never Be underneath, and isn't that what's really important?

5. Say they've been fighting for like ten thousand years and they're both so worn down from this battle that they no longer have nor care about their ancient morals anymore and the only constant in each other's lives are each other and aren't they tired of fighting, wouldn't they rather just lay down the sword and eye lasers and collapse together into the uncomfortably comforting familiarity of each other's company? Give up. Give in. Rest now. There's only one bed.

6. Brainwash Jack! Make him evil! Maybe a partial resurgence of the Aku Infection, maybe some kind of magic, maybe future science brainwashing lasers, whatever! Bad ending for Jack but good ending for Jack/Aku! Would take some finesse to make evil Jack still seem like Jack rather than like some brand new evil character that we're told is Jack but doesn't actually seem like him in anything but appearance—like,, the evil Jack we see in canon isn't actually Jacklike in personality, y'know?

7. Brainwash Aku! Force him into the path of some god's divine soul-purification beam and turn him good against his will! Come up with a ritual to forcibly alter his nature to make it good! Smack him real hard on the head and when he comes to and asks where he is and who he is go "you're my noble shadow sidekick and definitely NOT evil and we fight crime together." Again, would take some finesse to make Aku still feel like himself.

8. Brainwash them both! Aliens are mind controlling them for their own sick amusement! They both got hit with a magic spell that gave them amnesia and now they're bumbling around the wilderness assuming they're besties because otherwise why would they have been hanging out together! Whatever!

And in any of the brainwashing cases, if you want you can later reverse the brainwashing and have them go "I got in too deep while I was brainwashed/while you were brainwashed, I don't think I can go back to the old status quo anymore, what now"

9. I think Jack is the kind of guy who couldn't possibly develop romantic feelings toward some villain who's ravaged the world but I don't necessarily think Aku absolutely couldn't develop romantic feelings toward some hero trying to kill him. If you went "but well maybe he could develop feelings?" I'd go "All right, it's unlikely but not necessarily flat OOC."

Aku pulls the ol' "pretend to be a hot chick to get close to Jack" routine, realizes with horror that he's actually falling for Jack, and then has to decide what to do about it—break it off and run (but ah! the feelings linger, perhaps triggering a redemption arc, certainly making him hold back during future battles with Jack), or maintain the ruse and just sorta alternate between going back to his castle to be a villain and fight Jack and then taking a break to resume the disguise to travel with Jack (perhaps resulting in... character growth??), or maybe maintain the ruse long term until Jack figures it out and/or dies. And what if Jack reciprocates the feelings for Aku's hot chick disguise. What then.

Likely a tragic ending, and most happy endings would be unconvincing, but you could finagle a happy ending into working with some effort—it would likely require either major effort to give Aku a redemption arc, or MAAAJOR effort to persuade the audience that, when Jack finds out about the disguise, he's already so in love with this side of Aku he's never seen/imagined before that he's willing to overlook, you know, all that.

But tragic ending is easiest. Keep it romantic by keeping them both infatuated but TORMENTED by the fact that IT CANNOT BE because Aku will never change and Jack will never surrender, AND YET THE LONGING FOR SOMETHING IMPOSSIBLE REMAINS. You can wring a lot of choice angst out of that. even if the relationship isn't there, the feelings are there, and that's like the ship succeeding.

10. Just keep it simple by sticking them in an AU where none of that drama is a problem. Any AU. Make up whatever the hell you want. Aku's a demonic barista at the local coffee shop and Jack has been coming in every morning for the last two weeks going "do you serve tea? :)" and Aku says "for the last time NO" and Jack goes ":(" and on the fifteenth day Aku slaps down a box of tea bags he bought himself and goes "here's a cup of hot water make your own damn tea." Aku goes "yes, I am pure evil down to my core, but it's because I'm a barista and I have to take orders from customers, who do shit like try to order tea from a coffee shop" and Jack goes "honestly completely understandable, I don't hold this against you at all" and Aku goes "so now I plan to take over the world and burn everything to the ground" and Jack goes "I am given to understand that's a common reaction to working in the food service industry." I got too into this joke. Anyway: AU.

11. Not alternate universe but alternate timeline where they never became enemies.

Just like, go back to the moment Aku was set on a course for evil and instead maybe Jack's dad goes "WOW you're a big scary fucker, wanna come back to my kingdom and be our personal army and kill invaders?" and Aku's like "killing people?? sure I'm in" and now Jack grows up going like "dear diary today I again had a distant glimpse of the dark god who guards our kingdom fighting off invaders, I wish he would visit the palace more often so I can appreciate his strange shadowy physique from up close who wrote that"

or say Aku did kill the emperor the first time they fought and the newborn prince was smuggled out of the devastated kingdom and grew up in a rough demonic-war-torn region so that by the time he meets Aku as an adult he's like "oh you need soldiers to help you conquer the world faster? I've killed like seventeen people for money and food and I'm decent with a sword, is that good enough? why no I don't know anything about the emperor you killed or his family, why do you ask?"

12. Groundhog Day plot where Jack finds a time portal but decides to use it to prevent ANY of Aku's evil from EVER happening and keeps trying again when he doesn't succeed, and after 200 loops he goes "wow there are hidden sides to Aku I never imagined" and "I know now what I must do to ensure Aku never harms or has harmed ANYONE... seduce him to the side of good."

Some of the above options are kind of cheats. Some are kinda cheesy, some are kinda cliche, and all of them are very subject to personal taste—what would work for some audience members wouldn't work for others, any of them could get someone to go "well what's the POINT if you're using XYZ trope, that basically doesn't count" or go "characterizing them that specific way simply seems OOC to me" or "I can accept Aku being turned on by almost being killed but I draw the line at Jack being attracted to redheads." Whatever! I don't like all the above ideas myself.

But like... they're stories that would work for somebody. It's up to you what you'd like or what you think "makes sense" or what you think would "count" as doing it "right."

so conclusion: Jack/Aku couldn't work out... but you could MAKE it work out. And on top of that there are so many beautiful, interesting, yearning-filled, grief-filled, angsty ways it could fail to work out—and for some people "they both acknowledge they FEEL something, even if they can't get it to work out" is enough to say that the ship happened.

[wonderingpanda]

MM/Tales Mikey and his S/O. being "improv bf and ballet gf"?

Improvised Ballet

Tottmnt!Mikey x Ballerina!Reader

Ok, I had no idea if that post was going to get out there but it did so that’ll you guys! I have 3 other request to work on at the moment and I love them all so thank you, keep it coming! I tried to stick to clichés mostly as I really wasn’t sure how to write this but I hope I did well so please, enjoy!

You and Mikey first met in dance

It seemed like a fun elective and most of his improv friends were doing it so he figured, why not?

Upon entering the classroom, you were one of the first people he noticed

You were just sitting there, doing some personal stretches before warm-up, and all he could think was

“Damn, that girl can bend like spaghetti! Or pizza I guess. Mmmm I love pizza. Shoot, now I’m craving pizza! With a golden crust and gooey, delicious cheese…”

“Mikey! We’re about to start dude.” He was so deep into his own thoughts his friend had to snap him out of it. Wouldn’t be the first time either

“Oh yeah totally, I’ll be right there.” And as he moved to go find a spot, he couldn’t help but notice you gazing over in his direction. Interesting… very interesting

As time went by he kept being drawn to you. He noticed you in the halls, at lunch, but most of the time he’d be caught looking over at you during dance

Eventually, the class had to split into groups and each work on a group piece to present. Turns out, you guys had quite a few mutual friends and ended up being dragged into the same group together

Mikey, ever the extrovert, immediately took the opportunity to introduce himself and you guys got to talking

He found out you were mainly there to do ballet. Also contemporary (as that was the main focus of the class) but mainly ballet

Also apparently the school has a dance team, sick!

He did get to hear all about the ballet classes you take out of school and all the pain joy that rehearsal brings

In all honesty, you love it, it just requires a lot of physical strength

From that day onwards, you guys kept talking and hanging in class, then out of class, then out of school

It was awesome and Mikey couldn’t be happier, he had found a new close friend

As you two hung out more, some feelings started to grow

Nothing really changed much but close contact like high-fives and hugs became increasingly heart-racing

Even sitting next to each other was enough to raise your heart rates

Also villains might of seen you two hanging out every now and then so there may have been some kidnappery that left you in need of saving

But it’s fine, you’re fine

Everything’s fine

It was actually after one of those daring rescues that he finally asked you out, after an attack on the school

He had originally planned to do a dance with your friends and make it a big gesture

But after that fight, he didn’t want to take any chances and possibly leave it too late

So, once everyone was safe and everything, he immediately ran to you

Y/n! Are you hurt or anything? Don’t worry Mikey, I’m fine. Okay cos I kind of have something to ask you. Sure, what is it? Will you go out with me?

He said it, straight up just like that

You said yes, obviously, but it wasn’t your answer he was super worried about

He just wanted the chance to let you know how he felt

And so, you two were quickly recognised as a couple around school

A theatre kid and a ballet kid, two performers each with unique styles that somehow mixed perfectly

Now, you had known who Mikey and his brothers were long before you two even first talked

I mean, the whole school knew about them; it wasn’t any big secret

But you’d never really talked to them in-person before not until they started teasing Mikey about his crush on you

Then they had to help save you and from there friendship was inevitable

Seriously, you can’t just ignore someone after they’ve helped save you… multiple times

And believe me, it doesn’t matter that you two were dating now, they still loved teasing Mikey about it

So sometimes you had to take extra measures to ensure payback was efficient

But don’t worry they still have their shells on, for now

However, there was one close friend of Mikey’s whom you struggled to get comfortable with

April

While I hate to say it, you and April didn’t get along easily

Being a ballet kid sometimes came with a bad rep and for someone like April, who had been picked on by so many people (including the ballet kids), trust wasn’t always easy to instil in others

You did manage to become friends though. Yes, some of the ballet people you hung out with weren’t the best and yes, you may have laughed along with their cruel jokes to try and fit in but that was the past

Also, surprisingly, April is super forgiving and chill so everything’s good between you two now

As for how you and Mikey are as an actual couple, well…

There’s running through halls

MIKEY, DROP THE GLITTER BOMB! But Donnie made it just for meeee! That doesn’t-no-stop-get back here you turd! TURD!? What kind of an insult is that! Mikey! Catch me if you can!

Crying to movies

Why’d they have to kill the dog! I don’t know. I loved that little guy. *sniffle* I-I know *simultaneous sobbing*

Mikey teaching you improv

So the idea is we go around in a circle and keep a steady rhythm. And you keep that rhythm by using hand gestures and yelling ‘wah’? Exactly! Ok… just wondering, how does this relate to improv? I don’t know. I guess it’s cos it makes you think on the spot. Right.

And you teaching Mikey ballet

Come on, stretch! Ahhh! Stretch! I-I can’t! Yes you can! Now STRETCH! Aaaoooww!!!

Oh, and sometimes you have to be a bit strict with him

Mikey loves chaos and has been raised on it but you’ve been taught to follow the rules so much that not doing so almost seems terrifying

So if, on the odd occasion, Mikey is trying to hide something from you it’s ok

He’s not cheating, just breaking the law

He loves attending your concerts and follows no laws of theatre etiquette which can be embarrassing but also adorable

You, on the other hand, found it almost life-changing to go to one of Mikey’s improv nights

The audience interaction and goofy scenes made it all so thrilling and exciting

And while you do have friends who had been doing improv for ages, you’d never actually attended one of the shows before

But your bf is the exception, forever and always

You still haven’t met his dad as you refuse to enter the sewers and Splinter still struggles with coming out in broad daylight

And your parents are yet to hear of your relationship as you have no idea how they’d feel about you dating a mutant turtle

They do, of course, know of your friendship but perhaps you’ll wait a bit before breaking the news that it’s a little more now

And the shots they’d make you take just for kissing him, the thought is draining

Besides, it can’t be that dangerous to kiss a turtle… can it?

👀

And don’t worry, I didn’t forget about the precious mutanimals

They know of you but you are yet to meet, you’ll talk eventually though

Overall, your relationship is messy, chaotic, thrilling and partially secretive

But it feels right

I hope I did good. Also, I’m an ex-ballet kid and a current theatre kid so I found this hilarious to write. And I do mean ex-ballet kid, I haven’t done proper classes in years so apologies if I got some stuff wrong. Anyway, as usual, please have a lovely day/night wherever you are!✨

[vip-komilk]

Okay here's the sbms sex headcanon post. I may add onto it later.

cw for blankshipping, again like 95% nbkd

D/S / BDSM

We gotta start with Dom/Sub / BDSM. Blanket statement. The structure and well-defined rules make navigating sexual play feel more secure for them; they don't really have to worry about it as much with each other, because they have always been able to communicate their feelings and wants and needs to each other fairly easily, but when bringing in additional partners, the structure allows them that sense of safety and security.

I usually like to think Ingo and Emmet pretty consistently align to dom and sub roles respectively, although their physical positions switch. Ingo sometimes struggles a bit with the dom role because although he likes flustering and teasing Emmet, he doesn't like inflicting severe pain onto him (Emmet is verrry good about giving him aftercare in return after particularly intense scenes though, not to worry).

There's just something about the absolute trust Emmet has in Ingo — like, to a concerning degree, to the average person. Emmet sometimes gets too in his own head, isn't always good at getting himself out of mental spirals. He sometimes feels like he leans on Ingo too much, that he is a burden to him. It's a relief to be used by Ingo in such cases; to know that at the very least his body is useful to his brother. And Ingo knows how important it is to Emmet, tells him just how good he feels as he meticulously edges and fucks every cruel thought from his beautiful little brother's head until it's wonderfully empty, and then fills him back up with loving praises.

I've mentioned before how brainrotted I've become over Rali's Emmet bondage art so like. Yeah. You can just assume that's going on in my head for them too. I had a whole friggin post about Emmet being a huge fan of edging, so I won't get into detail about it again, but the bondage lends itself to that, particularly if his being restrained means he's unable to remove any other stimuli being applied as well (vibration, shock, temperature etc etc, I'll get to that more in a sec).

Petplay is such a good one for them by the way. To me. Do I need to get into detail about it when I've drawn it repeatedly and wrote a whole damn fic about it? It's just another facet of Emmet eagerly giving up his autonomy to Ingo, placing himself entirely into his brother's hands to do with what he wants. It's the idea of being the defender, the guard dog, willing to act at the other's command. It's the idea of a collar as a symbol of how they utterly belong to one another; the heaviness of leather against a throat as a constant reminder, the thrill of it being seen under their clothing. Which leads me into the next thing.

---

Possessiveness and Exhibitionism

I think this is slightly more Ingo's thing than Emmet, though Emmet certainly isn't opposed.

I like writing Ingo with a possessive streak. Part of it certainly stems from his desire to protect his brother from anyone potentially suspicious (read: anyone besides himself). Part of it is entirely selfish and jealous, which is something he is usually good at hiding. When it comes to his brother though, his composure and rationality shatters surprisingly fast. It's something Emmet knows, and likes to exploit and take advantage of just to see that darker side of Ingo come to the surface.

(cw: ntr) Emmet can be a tease and a flirt. He wants Ingo's attention, and all attention is good attention. He'll always try to rile Ingo up in public, try to crack his composure, try to get a reaction out of him. He knows the power he holds over his brother, and he's always testing the limits of what he's allowed to get away with. He'll flirt around to make Ingo jealous or invite casual partners into their apartment knowing Ingo will walk in on them, just to piss him off. At the end of the day though, Emmet always comes back to Ingo.

Ingo likes to mark Emmet up when they have sex; scratches and bitemarks, bruises, rope and wax burns. He purposefully does it in places that aren't necessarily out in the open, but that have the potential of slipping into view; his collarbones, his wrists, his hips. Emmet is usually exasperated with the state of his body in the aftermath, but the sting of raw scratch marks rubbing against his clothing or the ache of bruises on his arms and hips as he goes through his workday always sends a thrill down his spine at the memory of how exactly they were placed there. Ingo, on the other hand, can't help but to puff out his chest a little more at the mere glimpse of the marks; as taboo as it might be, there's a part of him that wants other people to see them and wonder just how exactly they got there, and who was the cause of them. Similarly, they're not opposed to experimenting with things like shibari under clothing or plugs/vibrators inserted for extended periods of time.

They attempt public sex a lot more often than they should, considering their relationship and their reputation. The way Ingo feels sick with adrenaline is addicting to him; everytime they get away with it successfully, he swears they'll never do it again, but then he's always the one initiating it again only a few weeks later.

---

Sensory play

Exhibitionism is Ingo's Thing and sensory play is Emmet's. It's tied to the edging, and I went into it in detail in that initial post as well, but to summarize: the appeal of sensory play to Emmet is the challenge to withstand it. Things like shock stimulation, temperature play, wax play, pain play etc. are all erotic because they're uncomfortable or even painful. I hc that Emmet has built up a tolerance to electroshocks from training his electric type Pokemon, so it's what he tends to be the best at edging himself with. He also likes sensory deprivation; blindfolds, gags, ear plugs, restraints etc etc etc. Not being able to anticipate what's coming next adds to the excitement and the challenge, and depriving his senses allows his imagination to wander.

The thing I didn't write about in that initial post is that I don't really think Ingo enjoys the sensory play much at all (the deprivation stuff he's fine with, just the addition of pain stimuli). Like I mentioned at the top, he's not actually very keen on inflicting pain on his brother, and so because of Ingo's hesitance, Emmet enjoys some of his sensory play in solitude, as a form of prep or masturbation, before dragging Ingo in to finish him off.

Ingo is particularly sensitive to sensory play the few times he has tried it himself, and either comes embarrassingly quickly or taps out within a couple of minutes because of the discomfort. Emmet thinks it's hilarious, Ingo obstinately thinks it's dumb.

---

CNC / Somnophilia

(cw for non/dubcon elements) So... the thing I like to headcanon about Emmet. Is that he has very little concept of himself outside of his relation to his brother. Ingo is a little better at asserting his independence; Emmet not so much. (Which is why post-Ingo-disappearance is so fucking interesting to me, because Emmet is very jarringly forced to confront that fact, but that's a tangent we simply don't have time for.) The point here is that Emmet really does just kind of approach their relationship as if they are an extension of each other; Emmet's body belongs to Ingo as much as it belongs to himself, and he allows — expects — Ingo to use it at his leisure.

He would be more than fine with Ingo taking him by force, any time, any place he wanted. He would be delighted to be woken up with Ingo's fingers inside him, having him persist gently but oh so firmly, showering him with praises even as he attempts to protest. He would love to feel Ingo's grip on him tighten, his body pulled flush to Ingo's as he squirms and writhes in a feeble attempt to escape.

Ingo would only ever do such a thing if it were discussed at length ahead of time, but boy does Emmet fantasize about it.

Something that's not quite the same, but is... dubcon related (lol) is this post I made about Ingo bottoming/subbing when he's in some sort of altered state (fatigue, illness, alcohol/drugs, hypnosis, heat/rut etc.). He doesn't like the idea of Emmet having to do the work, so there always has to be some sort of "excuse" to fall back on. Meanwhile, sometimes Emmet is absolutely desperate to give back in some way, to prove that he is capable of pleasing Ingo and worthy of his affection (not that he needs to prove it but again. Emmet be gettin in his own head about things sometimes).

---

Vocalization

Everyone knows Ingo is loud. That's submas 101 shit. More importantly, Ingo's sounds during sex are constant. He's always grunting and moaning and whimpering about something. He's a notorious rambler the more turned on he is and the closer he gets to orgasm; the type to always be muttering praises and affirmations and encouragements, whispering "I love you," "you're doing so well," "you feel so good," "You look so beautiful". The closer he gets to coming, the more frantic and loud and clingy he gets.

Emmet is the opposite. As opposed to words, he mostly just makes noises, and the longer a scene goes on, the less vocal he gets; slipping into subspace (during actual intercourse or not) usually involves him speaking a lot less than usual, and he will sometimes go completely nonverbal. They have both verbal and nonverbal safe words/gestures for this reason, and that makes things easier for when their sensory deprivation play involves gagging as well.

---

Other random shit

Here's just some random thoughts that aren't developed enough for a whole damn paragraph.

Ingo likes seeing Emmet dressed up or in lingerie; he gets too embarrassed to do it himself (although Emmet can convince him to every once in a while with the strict stipulation that there's no photos).

If ever they have to spend the night apart because one of them (usually Ingo) is on a business trip, they WILL be having phone sex, and Emmet usually makes Ingo be extra loud so he can hear him clearly (why's the Xtransceiver connection always so bad when Ingo is away?? Isn't that so strange??).

Ingo has sensitive ears and a sensitive chest, which Emmet loves to take advantage of by licking and biting them.

Emmet is usually the more adventurous one in the bedroom and the one to bring new ideas to the table. He'll sometimes get in his head about bringing them up, but he also acts very obviously weird when he's trying to hide something and so Ingo knows to pry it out of him. Ingo will then research everything exhaustively, even if it's not something he’s really interested in, and be ready to try it by the next evening.

Edit:

This one is less serious but I like to ignore the whole identical twin realism for a second just to make Emmet have a huge dick that he doesn't use. Only Ingo is allowed to touch it for sexual reasons, Emmet refers to it more like a toy than his own appendage. The objectification of it all. Huge dick, tiny tits, absolute bottom but I don't have a fave or anything... As a friend commented when I told her, this is the greed they spoke of in the bible.

Speaking of tits there's a whole post about it, I'll keep my degenerate shit over there.

I can't believe I forgot to mention cock cages I might have to amend the top section later lol; Anyway I think Emmet is wearing cock cages a lot. It's the edging again. I don't need to explain more I don't think.

Something to add in more detail when I have time. I think Emmet is a lot more into involving other people in their sex life than Ingo is (again, Emmet likes the attention and Ingo tends to get possessive/jealous). After Ingo disappears, Emmet tends to throw himself into relationships thoughtlessly and haphazardly because he craves the physical intimacy he shared with Ingo; these relationships end up being short-lived and self-destructive because it's clear that Emmet is just projecting onto his partners. Ingo, on the other hand, is practically celibate in the case that he has any recollection of having a previous partner that he can't remember the details of. I think Ingo is painfully loyal in that regard.

again something to get more into later is feederism stuff uhhh I mean this is nothing new I've seen this hc in fics a lot, but especially in an au where they reunite post-Hisui, I think Ingo is particularly stringent about getting Emmet's neglected health back on track. It starts out entirely well-meaning when he starts taking over the cooking in the house and making sure Emmet is working his way up to regular-sized portions. Aaand maybe he's a bit intense and pushy about it when Emmet says he's full and Ingo insists he just have a bit more. Aaaand maybe it starts to get a bit perverse for both of them. Who's to say.

[poppyfamily]

Amangela Writer Appreciation Post!

I'm feeling a lot of things right now and I've decided to write what I like about my Amangela writer friends' writing. I often forget to leave comments on their work because they are GOOD at what they do, and I often forget I'm in the middle of reading good writing because it just exists (something something baby fish asks mommy fish where water is only to realize they've been swimming in it the whole time). Can you believe they do this for FREE? And share it with us just because they want to? They are GIFTS to the community.

It is such a privilege to be in the same creative sphere as these people and I need to express Emotions or regret not doing it. They inspire me everyday. Here is a public declaration of love, hope y’all are okay with that. Ramblings under the cut, because it goes without saying, this got really long.

@okiankeno is so imaginative with their writing. My Teeth, Your Neck is impressive with its incorporations of many elements that are familiar to Smosh and Amangela while throwing them into a fantastical, supernatural universe. I haven't watched Buffy, but their writing is so good at making this fantastical world feel lived in. The world just seamlessly slides into the way they write character motivations, making for strong characterization and dynamics that have me INVESTED. That Maia/Valerie twist? Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.

@babychosen is wonderful at dropping Amanda and Angela in situations optimized for maximum tension - which is clearly seen in first time that i met you (i didn't have a damn clue) and you could be bad (but i wanna find out). I love how she crafts her plots, keeping me at the edge of my seat for what comes next, which is driven forward by the way she writes dialogue - natural to the situation as it captures a range of emotions: awkwardness, uneasiness, attraction and just all the quirks that come with forming relationships. Her writing is so fun to read!

@sage-lights writes fics that are short and sweet, but they pack such a powerful punch. With just a few words, she's able to tell a story that contains the energy of a multi-chaptered fic. This is especially true in sometimes i hold you closer (just to know you're real). LIKE HELLO. I was on the road when I first read it and it had me spiraling for a good few hours. She also captures their voices very well. They also capture the tenderness of Amanda and Angela in such a specific way. One of my favorites is met you at the right time (this is what it feels like), capturing the intimacy of two women who earnestly love each other, beyond romance.

@xxsuicidalravenxx 's writing explores the inner turmoil of being drawn to someone while having a lot of insecurity about your own place in other people’s lives. You know I'm such a fool for you (you got me wrapped around your finger) captures something so incredibly real about the anxiety that comes with a murky and under-communicated relationship dynamic based on unfair assumptions about both herself and how Amanda feels about her - which ultimately is a reflection of Angela’s own self-worth which at this point isn’t the best. It’s so real, god - the self-sabotage and all that and slowly realizing that the people around her care more about her beyond whatever mistake she believes she’s made. Also just - all Chamangela dynamics are excellently written here. It’s a gift.

@unknownteapot is masterful at her craft. I've said it before - their writing is so cinematic.  I can see it clearly in my mind - so good at painting clear pictures of where the characters are in the story. It's dramatic, tension-filled and just excellent writing all around. Several minutes of my life have been spent reading her fics. I feel comforted whenever I read her stuff, it gives the feeling of hope - that things will be okay even when it doesn’t seem that way. I remember when sweetheart dropped in the Amangela ao3 tag and thinking WHO is this absolutely talented writer that came out of nowhere (to me lol), but now I can't imagine this little community without them.

@shesmore-shoebill is so good at capturing Amangela vibes as we see it. Like it truly feels like they've broken down the dynamic into its bare essentials which enables them to produce fics that I can vividly HEAR.  They also just infuse a lot of tenderness into the way they write Amanda and Angela, whether it's in a joke or in like genuine moments of checking in - both demonstrated very well in empty space and Joint Custody (Hey Siri). Also, you just know they're a good writer without reading any of their fics because they are already so articulate in how they write commentary on videos when they aren't even trying to write a story, so when they do have a story, it just hits even more. So good.

@skiespeaches has authored one of the hottest, tension-filled fics I've read in my god damned life. From the first chapter of The devil is in the details I was screaming over how THE FUCK they were able to make just ONE KISS feel like THAT. Also, really really really love how grounded this is in the way they write dialogue and internal thoughts. It captures the pleasant feeling of realizing just how much you like someone and receiving some cues that they might like you back. It captures actions you take because of those feelings that can get in the way of communicating what you really want, the emotional tentativeness that comes with not wanting to bear your heart completely quite yet - yet there is a willingness to see where it goes, hoping that it does come to that point. The entire fic feels like the most emotionally charged scene of a slice of life movie - which is literally my personal favorite genre.

@ghoulishhgayy - famed author of hit Amangela fic Oil Burns had me invested in a situation that I personally haven't read a lot of in fanfiction. The spirit of their fics can be boiled down (haha get it) to the way they write about two women who deeply care about one another unconditionally supporting each other through difficult times. That's the kind of shit I eat up, and it's done so excellently. They just also write in a way that just makes being in love so appealing. They capture the moment of oh in Oil Burns so well that it has me gnashing my teeth, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure etc etc.

@wlwsmosh manages to get to the heart of a story in a few words. It's actually crazy and I’m in awe of their talent. There is a lightness to their fics that just makes me smile so much while also like having some really smutty scenes, which is so dang impressive - balancing sweetness and steaminess really well while also feeling very much like Amangela. My favorite from them are when i call the shots, you call me mommy which I think feels so much like Amangela voice and humor, while also placing them in a relationship and kink context. Honestly, all of their fics are gems.

@baflegacy is so GOOD at putting Amangela in the silliest of situations (heck, situations that are very much based on what we have seen in canon) and teasing out its potential romantic through line. They have a way of capturing emotions that accompany these situations in a way that just shoots you straight to the core. They write tension so well, and are so good at keeping me engaged with what's about to happen next. All of their works are GOATED. I, however, am extremely biased when I say that my favorite is their birthday gift for me - too good (to deny it) - aka one of the best angsty pieces of writing I've read in my whole life my GOD.

@cuecrynsleep is so!!!! A newer friend whose first fic in the Amangela tag I fell in love with immediately (Being Transparent). It was so simple, but captures Amangela’s adorable nature within the context of a romantic relationship REALLY WELL. I’m also just out here eagerly awaiting every post from Reconnecting the Past, which is a chat fic - a format that I rarely like the execution of, but damn I love the way they’re doing it here with the added bonus of the Changela, Arangela, and Shourtmanda dynamics which is just feels absolutely right. I’m out here thinking what are they gonna do next. They are so good at building intrigue and I’m just here sipping my tea and thinking in my head that I sound like some pathetic fuckboy sexting going “and then what?” because I am seated. I am sat. 

Anyway, if you’ve reached the end of this post - go support these writers!!!! Make sure you let them know if you like their stuff - either through a comment, kudos, an ask, a message, or bookmark. I promise you it makes these authors’ days whenever they see any kind of feedback for their work, and it keeps the community ALIVE. I am guilty of not doing that but it’s always great to try instead of not. I know from personal experience that it makes so much of a difference in their motivation to write more, while also allowing us to savor the work instead of mindlessly consuming it. Thanks for reading me gushing about all of them. Love you Amangela RPF community! Very grateful for y’all more than you’ll ever know <3

[twotimefromforsaken]

MURDER DRONES EPISODE 5 : Random details and favorite parts of this episode

Will be putting major spoilers under cuts if anyone has NOT seen the new episode, or has yet to see it. CW/TW: Blood, body horror, murdery stuff! SPOILERS!! AHHH!!! You get the point. I am not responsible for your actions :3

(This post is a mix of different things btw, Md related tho)

None of this will be in order, and I might need to make a PART TWO!!! Since the total is 45 images. :’)

FIRST UP. I would like to take the time to appreciate doll so have some LOVELY LITTLE images of her I took.

She looks so fucking awesome???? Like holy shit. She slayed!!!!!

not to be fruity .but. yea

SHE. also Isn’t that the campsite? Or just a different location with the same appearance.

OKAY. Next up. BABYGIRL . I SQUEALED AT LIKE EVERY SCENE OF THEM SHES SO FUCKING CUTE. MAN😭

BLEEEEEH (I’m going to make this my icon soonthat was the purpose of the screenshot. Also because I love them)

World is mine by Hatsune mi- cyn. World is mine by cyn. The famous vocaloid /j (HSES 😭😭😭😭)

Noticing how her balance is SOOO Much better while holding someone?. Also MOOD .just like me .real 💔

i lov e you🥺EEEK /p. Shes melting

MY SIB AND I WERE FUCKIJG DYING OVER THE PUPPY EYES.LMAO. I love their humor

J* , and they locked her in the basement. I am so SAD about this information

PROTECTIVE BIG BRO MODE…babys

Okay, listen, i know these 2 got shipped before the release but OUCH this makes things so much weirder!!! eugh:( (mainly saw em as friends.tttotallt not becsuse I project my friendship with my silly mutual onto them.no. /sarc)

anyways forget them being friends as my headcanon. THEYRE FUCKING SIBLINGS EVEN BETTER!!! (prjdedcts me and my elder sib onto th— *gets killed /j*

GAY RIGHTS(After the 2nd watch i realized she was making them kiss each other and I started laughing so hard my sides hurt)

Okay glitch QUIT SHOWING OFF. god damn !!!!! Literally appreciating this scenery so hard. 10000/10. :3

YKNOW HW I WANTED TO SEE TEARS IN THE NEW EPISODE!! LOOK. KIND OF CLOSE!!

LOOK HES SOBBING!!!! ALMOST. I GOT WHAT I WANTED OMFG!!!!! YAYYA!!!! (Love it when ppl cry /j

Lovely little lad. Reading abt dogs:) so cute…

subtle hints of favoritism..👀(she obvs likes J more I think,)

I love how immediately i could tell this was drawn by Liam. Canonically J in the show but like his style is so adorable and bouncy!!!! AND LIKE yummyys:3 eated

Cute detail in Uzi’s room. SHE LIKES BABY COWS GUYS. ITS TIME TO MAKE FANART OF UZI WITH BABY COWS. /J

Blushys:)!

For those wondering what this is it’s basically a ripoff of YouTube. The caption is titled "Top 100 Doors ever!!11!" and then the views at the bottom 😭😭. KHAN AND HIS FUCKING DOORS GOD DAMNIT

This part scared the shit out of me i was literally about to cry. I THIUGHTT SHE KILLED HIM

I had to slow this down and repeat the same clip OVER AND OVER Just to get it right, apparently the solver can swap roles? (The order is supposed to be yellow then purple since Uzi takes over as an admin instead of CYN.) very cool.

STP FIGHTING D:

BOTH VRY SCARY :(

Better glimpse of her backpack. Cute little skullbat zipper!! Also batteries. 👍

Apparently DEAD BATTERIES, aka the logo on Uzi’s sweater could be a possible band? Or reference to a band I don’t know? Like how they have my chemical robots (or something like that) as a ref to the band MCR (romance).

Sigh., N was that you.

Conlang? Fictional language? Glyphs? I’m assuming it’s VERY important (since liam lovessss foreshadowing, i will further elaborate). Hoping there will be ways to "simplify" it to english!

Yknow how in episode 2 Uzi takes braidens sentience or sumn like dat. Yea 💀

Alright I’ve hit the limit, gonna rb again with part 2!!!!! Soon. Maybe

[janesociety]

‘tis the damn season

regulus black x muggleborn!reader

type: angst

word count: 1.8k

summary: leaving regulus on boxing day after an explosive (literally) christmas party

warnings: drinking, hate groups (death eaters)

masterlist

𝜗𝜚

“Come on, Y/N, you’ll have to face him at some point,” Dorcas said, stroking back your hair from your tear stained face. You sniffed, turning and finally facing her. The sun was barely peeking through the drawn curtains, a sliver of it landing right next to her.

“Sirius was right and I should’ve listened,” you said, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. You were quite sure what he was right about. Maybe it was him telling you to stay away from the group of Slytherins you had been hanging out with, maybe it was when he insisted you not go out with his younger brother, or, possibly, it could’ve been when he warned you against going to a Christmas party at number 12 Grimmauld Place. “I was being stupid.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, sitting up and looking down at you. “Sirius was being an asshole and you couldn’t have known what would happen.”

But you should’ve known, you told yourself. You should’ve known that Regulus’ family would’ve reacted to you the way they did. You should’ve known that a Black family Christmas party would be full of death eaters and sympathizers. But Regulus should’ve known how dangerous bringing you actually was. Regulus should’ve known that leaving you alone to get drunk was a bad idea. He should’ve been the one comforting you now, not his friend who was now having to apologize for the actions of her housemates.

There was a knock at the door and Dorcas got up to answer it. She pulled it open just enough to peak her head out before pulling it open all the way and letting Pandora in. She smiled weakly at you.

“The boys are all having breakfast,” she said, leaning against the post at the end of the bed you were laying. Dorcas resumed her position next to you. “I can have Kreacher bring you something if you’d like.”

“Do they remember anything that went on last night?” Dorcas asked. Pandora bit her lip.

“I don’t think so.”

Regulus, Evan, and Barty decided to get shitfaced along with a few of their other pure blood friends in attendance, making the night even worse for you and the other two in trying to keep them out of trouble. Regulus was fun to be around when he got drunk at parties, not when you needed him to be there for you.

The night was supposed to be great. You knew from Sirius’ warnings that you should’ve managed your expectations better, but you couldn’t help but become excited at the idea of attending a high society party with your close friends and boyfriend. You, Dorcas, and Pandora spent the whole day getting ready- doing each other’s hair and makeup, helping each other into the dress robes you all had picked out days before. You were practically giddy with excitement by the time you made your way downstairs to see Regulus as the party guests began to arrive.

“You look beautiful, mon coeur,” he had told you once you appeared in front of him. You were both too enamored with each other to notice the disapproving looks of the passing blood purist.

The dinner was only moderately uncomfortable- you spent most of your time talking to Pandora, Regulus, and Barty as they were on either side and across from you. You tried to ignore the talk around you of blood status politics.

Even after the dinner when the boys began drinking and you, Dorcas, and Pandora gathered yourselves in a secluded corner, you weren’t exactly miserable yet. It wasn’t Walburga pulled the attention of the crowd by tapping her wand to the side of a metal goblet that your stomach filled with actual dread.

“Ladies and gentlemen, dearest friends, I would like to thank you for coming on this lovely night,” her voice echoed artificially throughout the entire house. “Tonight we celebrate many things, friends and family among those, but most of all, we celebrate unity under the Dark Lord.” Dorcas’ hand instinctively grabbed your arm and you could feel Pandora tense next to you.

“We should find Regulus,” the blonde whispered, discreetly scanning the room for the nearest exit. Walburga continued to ramble on about their mission and blood purity and the Dark Lord- you get the picture.

“I kindly ask all of you to make your way out to the courtyard for a holiday firework display,” Walburga’s voice echoed. You watched Abraxas Malfoy clear his throat from beside her and she quickly shot him one of her deadly looks. “The show was provided to us by the Malfoy family,” she said through gritted, pearl-white teeth.

You, Dorcas, and Pandora began to follow crowds towards the exits, stopping in a corridor just outside the entrance to the back courtyard where people were gathering.

“This way,” Pandora whispered, you and Dorcas trusting her as she led you down a hallway. The grand, arched windows provided enough of a view of the party guests outside that you could look from afar as the light show began. You were distracted with trying to find Regulus’ unruly mop of hair to notice the fireworks until you heard Dorcas gasp. What you saw made your blood run cold.

A glowing dark mark appeared in the sky, the snake slithering out of the skull’s mouth and around the rest of it before bursting into thousands of little beads of light which quickly began to form new shapes.

“They can’t be,” Dorcas said, dumbfounded by the horrendous display in front of her. “Not this outright, not this open.” Being in Slytherin meant she was used to small displays of loyalty to Voldemort, but nothing like this. This was bold, even for the Black family.

“We have to find Regulus,” you whispered, grabbing fistfuls of your dress and walking faster down the hall.

But you hadn’t found Regulus, at least, not until after it was too late. Him, Evan, and Barty were sitting outside on the ground, drunk out of their minds, and laughing at the glowing images in the air. Images of horrible, blood supremacist acts being committed, images of Dumbledore’s head on a stick, images of their beloved school being consumed by snakes coming directly out of the mouth of a dark mark. Reasonably, you knew they didn’t know what they were laughing at. Their eyes probably couldn’t even focus on what was right in front of them, let alone the lights a hundred feet up in the air.

But here you were in tears, at his house, at his family’s party, scared for your actual life, and he was happy and drunk. He wasn’t comforting you, he wasn’t trying to help you leave for the Potters’ through the floo network, he wasn’t doing anything except looking at you with that dopey smile that made you fall for him.

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were heartbroken. You were betrayed. He promised he’d stay by your side the whole night, and then there you were- you and your two friends sneaking through a house full of people who openly wanted you dead. Dorcas and Pandora stayed in the guest room you had been sleeping in that night with you and made sure to lock the door behind them when you got there. You all had trouble falling asleep that night- the horrific images played off as a hopeful firework display still fresh in your mind. And now here you were, crying in your bed because the boy who you defended to your other friends, who you fell in love with, had let you down in such an extreme way.

“There’s a fireplace in the kitchen we can use to go to Cas’ house,” Pandora offered. “I’ve used it before. We’d have to walk past them, that's the only thing.”

You sat up fully, brushing your hair over one shoulder to get it off your neck. “Like you said, Cas, I’ll have to face him at some point.”

You marched through the house, your bag in hand, the portraits that you had done your best to ignore the day before shouting obscenities at you. You didn’t think you could get any more upset, but when you entered the kitchen and Regulus’ face lit up, you could hardly stop your cheeks and neck from burning with- well, you weren’t sure what. It could’ve been anger, shame, flattery, or even sadness. It was probably sadness, you decided.

“Good morning, mon c- hey, what’re doing?” he stood up as you brushed past him, doing your best to avoid looking into his eyes. When his eyes fell to Pandora, she simply shook her head, silently telling him to let you leave. He didn’t listen, of course, he was a Black after all.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You whipped around immediately, pushing his hand off of you. “Wha- what’s wrong?” he asked, shocked at what seemed to him as a sudden change in your mood. You could barely control your emotions as you looked at him. You felt the eyes of everyone in the room on you, making your skin crawl.

“You left me alone,” you muttered, barely loud enough for him to hear. You mentally cursed yourself at the childish sounding complaint.

“What?” he asked, a confused smile playing on his lips. Oh, the once so serious Regulus Black, now thinking everything was some kind of joke. The smile made your face burn- this time you knew from embarrassment- and you turned around again, making your way over to the fire place. “Y/N!” he said again, more sternly. “What’s going on?”

“You left me alone in a house full of people who very vocally want me dead, that’s what’s going on,” you finally exploded. “You left me to watch a firework display of people killing muggles, of people killing muggle-borns, of dark marks so you could party! I spent all night at a party all my friends told me not to go to- but I went anyway because you said it would be fun- listening to grown adults talk about wanting to wipe people like me off the face of the earth. And you weren’t there.”

Regulus stood there, frozen. His memory of the night prior was foggy, but he wouldn’t have done that, would he?

You scoffed at his silence and turned back around to the fireplace. You stepped in, taking a hand full of floo powder in your free hand.

“I’ll see you at your house, Cas,” you said, looking over Regulus’ shoulder. You looked back at him, still in front of you, still frozen. “Merry fucking Christmas, Reg.”

You threw the floo powder.

[fuckingloginwall]

✎ I Love My Selves

✴ Post-Standard Imposter AU ft. Your Self-Insert (or at least one of them)

—☵☵☰☰☰☵☵—

One second Teyvat was drooling for your death, the next you were the most beloved deity in the world.

Pretty hard to believe the latter given your first impression of this nightmare, one you'll never wake up from.

Said nightmare was constantly proclaiming it's love for you, right after trying to kill you . . . Yeah you've seen enough horror to know where this is going.

But all humans need to be loved.

You'll never turn to Teyvat for that, and nobody from Earth can fill in that role, nor will your trauma let you reassure yourself, so what do you do?

Practice self-love, but with extra steps.

—☵☵☰☰☰☵☵—

⌡ 🔏 Reader from Faraway, be on guard, Cults, Religious Themes, and Mentioned Execution, are features of these pages. ⌠

⌡ 🔏 Do come and tell me if there are any other details I have failed to alert thee of . . . ⌠

—☵☵☰☰☰☵☵—

The Crowning Of The True Creator, a seven-day-long festivity all of Teyvat was celebrating alongside the execution of the Imposter.

It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, one of prayer and salvation for Teyvat after daring to obey the Fake. One where you and your creations would forgive and forget, pushing aside the past and making way for a glorious future.

Or it was supposed to be.

Predictably, gods—or at least those human enough—never forgive and never forget something as wretched as witch hunts and attempted lynching.

You know this better than anyone else.

And as if that wasn't enough you were declared The Creator, the creator of a universe coded and drawn by the hands of a corporation you had no part in.

And all of this because of some funky gold blood in your veins? Bah! It was all bullshit!

You were no imposter and you were no creator, but because of your flesh and blood, nooobody believe you.

So all you could do was smile and nod. Smile and nod to the every word of these cultists, your captors.

It was during one song speaking of your alleged Infinity Powerful Abilities™️ that you couldn't help but wonder . . .

. . . that yeah, you have no powers, but what if you did? What's the harm in trying out?

During a heavenly break from the masses, in the privacy of your gilded cage, you poured all your focus into trying to create a special somebody. Somebody you did create.

And create you did.

There they were in front of you, your self-insert, made from your personality and your desires. Somebody you lived through.

And the best part is that they understood you, were bearable (maybe even better!), and you freaking enjoyed their presence, flaws be damned (or even welcomed)! even those you hated in yourself and everyone else

For the rest of the week you two were glued to the hip, conversing with one another and doing as you wished. Never mind the cultists you had to please and expectations to meet! You had a friend to be besties with!

For your Self-Insert it was a realization—to say the least—that they didn't exist before you brought them here. Their memories and stories, their world, those they knew, everything was just fiction you dreamt up. Once upon a time they weren't real!

But they were real now, and your the reason why.

And you were somebody who lovingly made them, lived the unreal reality alongisde them. Someone who handpicked each part of their every being and loved the gestalt for what it was.

Not the forgone past. Not the potential future. The current now.

You poured your soul into them, brought to them to life—

"—and the universe said 'I love you because you are love.'" Recited your creation to whoever it was they humored.

'And so too was the universe loved' they'd think to themselves, but Teyvat purged that certainty from you. Nevermind the past. Just as you had, they would lend the same love given to them. Love you held for them, and thus yourself. After all . . .

Those stupid Allogenes may have been your characters to play with once upon a time, but they were your real Vessel, one whose very being was a part of you, and nothing could change that . . .

Your self-proclaimed Acolytes would watch with envy. Was it shameful to hold such a grudge towards something tailormade, so trusted, so perfect for such a purpose?!?! Yes. Yes it was.

But how are the creations of a forgotten body ever to compare to an art piece, that of the current self?

—☵☵☰☰☰☵☵—

Comment below any "[they] would not fucking say [or do] that" moments you experienced while reading this one lol

A break away from my own Imposter AU.

Reader assumes that since they didn't actually participate in making Genshin Impact, only seemed to have Gold blood to make them stand out, and zero memories of any past life, that they weren't really special, just unlucky enough to be the product of the cult's obsessions but that wasn't the case lol.

So yeah, since you're stuck here, might as well make the most of it and see if you truly have powers to make and break

You have the power indeed! You use it to make your Self-Insert real and break the hearts of Teyvat once again!

Why have a cult that tried to kill you when you can have your Self-Insert with you instead?

You're SI's thoughts on you? obvs they have some love for you, but what kind of love that is, is up to you.

Also you consider your SI your only creation lmao

Anyways worldbuilding

The Crowning is an event every nation spends seven days celebrating, and The Creator attends the main event in a different nation each day. So for example, Day 1: Mondstadt, Day 2: Liyue, etc., etc..

Lots of fighting on what order the Creator's visits would go in. It's whatever you imagine.

For the most part Teyvat pray, sacrifices and gives offers to the Creator. Partakes in purification rituals to be cleansed of sin (cuz of the Imposter Hunt and Imposter being deemed the Creator) and spends the rest of the day celebrating the Creator's descent.

But the day the Creator is in the nation? It's all jubilation and sky-high celebration. That's when the celebration of the Nation peaks and everyone is trying to at least get a glance of the Creator. The next day they presume as scheduled afterwards.

Once reader's Self-Insert comes into being and is brought into public eye, word spreads fast, especially to the next nations the duo is to visit.

Opinions are split.

Because during the event, the Creator has personally created a being, somebody who takes up all their attention, giving less attention than before to their worshippers, favoring them just like that.

The nations before this are glad to have more acknowledgement from the Creator than the nations yet to be visited due to the SI's abscence.

Others are estatic that the Creator's newest creation is going to bless the nation with their pressence, and revere the Creation almost as much as The Creator. Others are salty that the Creator made their Creation after leaving their nation.

Some don't complain about the Creator's Creation. For one, Teyvat irreversibly hurt the Creator, and it makes sense for them to turn to another Creation they could actually trust. The favoritism was inevitable.

Or maybe they think something else.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk​ who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys. 

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party. 

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that. 

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now. 

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought. 

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!" 

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening. 

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?" 

More cheers, more hollers. 

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!" 

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day. 

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse. 

Again—you fucking hate frat boys. 

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst. 

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer. 

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt. 

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team. 

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!" 

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hell no!" 

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike." 

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." 

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed. 

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?" 

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.  

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly." 

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer. 

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little. 

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?" 

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along. 

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though. 

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?" 

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.  

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer." 

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers. 

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in. 

He does, and you let out a breath of relief. 

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?" 

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?" 

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you." 

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs. 

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue. 

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?" 

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself." 

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon. 

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip. 

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice. 

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach. 

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum. 

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!" 

"Ayyy, waterfall!" 

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced. 

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch. 

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up." 

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game. 

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards. 

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace. 

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup. 

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you. 

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely. 

*

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you. 

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before. 

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team? 

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you. 

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out. 

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult. 

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt  Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes. 

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses. 

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way. 

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls. 

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you. 

*

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc. 

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover. 

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall. 

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster. 

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him. 

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them. 

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it. 

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms. 

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees. 

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested. 

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins. 

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?” 

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away. 

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him. 

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave. 

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning. 

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you. 

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too. 

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was. 

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips. 

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble. 

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere. 

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out. 

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper. 

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind. 

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind. 

“Holy—” 

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs. 

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass. 

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately. 

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress. 

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan. 

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you. 

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it. 

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to. 

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door. 

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

*

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias. 

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again. 

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot. 

Is still hot. 

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong. 

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner. 

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits. 

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face. 

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you. 

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago. 

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head. 

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick. 

God dammit, why is he so sexy? 

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so... 

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body. 

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face. 

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted. 

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip. 

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock. 

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion. 

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth. 

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue. 

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you. 

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward. 

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot. 

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit. 

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to. 

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine. 

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts. 

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight." 

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you. 

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed. 

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach. 

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression. 

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support. 

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot. 

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?" 

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee." 

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out. 

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side. 

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

*

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like. 

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?" 

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!" 

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together. 

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave. 

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it. 

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove. 

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?" 

And, there's that point. 

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request. 

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea. 

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times. 

But, it needs to stop. 

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth. 

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer. 

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call. 

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven. 

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it. 

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them. 

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious. 

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before. 

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods. 

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated. 

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself. 

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee. 

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much. 

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully. 

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?" 

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?" 

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?" 

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to. 

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point. 

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you. 

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie. 

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?" 

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal." 

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?" 

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended. 

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards. 

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day." 

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face. 

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias." 

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick. 

"You have any classes?" You ask. 

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place. 

"Sucks," is all you can come up with. 

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?" 

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself. 

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'. 

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?" 

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals. 

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it. 

"God dammit." 

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear. 

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to." 

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan. 

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole. 

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane. 

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name. 

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit. 

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air. 

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess. 

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat. 

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate. 

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

[arrowflier]

hi 💛 i know this may be out of character for post-finale, but i was wondering if you could write a bit of angst (with happy ending of course) where mickey becomes more withdrawn from the gallagher fam cause he doesn’t feel like he really belongs (thinking of lip during the “mickey’s not family” kitchen scene and mickey&lip’s fight) - maybe mick is staying back at their westside apartment more often, not attending family events, only feels comfortable around ian, etc. - eventually ian catches on, they talk, and he makes it better 🥰

This went a little different and it's ooc for the other Gallaghers, but I think it still hits the general vibe so I just went with it.

---

The wake of Frank Gallagher’s death was filled with uncertainty. For the present, the future, the family. For Ian. Because for all Ian said he wouldn’t care when Frank died, for all he said he was done caring for, mourning for a man that used him, threw him aside…

When it came down to it, Ian was still a Gallagher. And Gallaghers didn’t let each other go that easily.

Mickey wasn’t a Gallagher. He never had been. And he had never felt that difference more strongly than now, standing behind the counter in the Gallagher family kitchen, feeling like an eavesdropper as he listened to them plan.

Plan for a wake no one wanted, a remembrance no one asked for. Plan out Frank’s goodbye while the man himself sat in ashes on the mantelpiece.

Ian looked tired sitting on the opposite side of the room, facing Mickey. His face was drawn, his eyes squinted thin and surrounded by red, and his mouth twisted as he argued with Lip over how much of the money from selling the house should go toward completely unnecessary arrangements.

“I’m just saying,” Ian said plainly, “that we don’t need to do anything fancy. There’s nothing wrong with a cheap party at the Alibi.”

“Party,” Lip snorted. “Don’t think this is the kind of thing we’re supposed to celebrate.”

“Why the fuck not?” Mickey couldn’t help himself from chiming in. “Frank was an asshole, and nobody cared when he was dyin’ on the goddamn sofa.”

It was true enough. They had all been rather unbothered by his imminent demise until they got the call, a few words over a tinny phone connection enough to suddenly make it real. To make it important.

“No matter how much we hated him, he was still our dad, Mickey,” Lip argued, wiping a hand over his face. He eyed the drink Carl held hungrily before taking a slow sip of his own cola, adding, “Not all of us can just leave family to fuckin’ rot.”

And that hurt. Felt like a fucking kick in the chest, over a heart already bruised. He could see Ian watching him, though, and his husband had enough to deal with without getting into Mickey’s shit again.

“He’s already cremated,” Mickey pointed out, putting on an unconcerned face for Ian’s benefit. “Nothing left to rot, man.”

“Well we can’t just do nothing,” Debbie said, for once on Lip’s side. “I mean yeah, he was a shitty dad, but it’s not like he was Terry.”

“Not a high bar,” Mickey countered. “Think he deserves some kind of parade just cause he didn’t try and kill any of ya on purpose?”

A brief moment, just one, as that went through the room. Then:

“Mickey,” Lip sighed, “just let us deal with this, yeah? This is kind of a—”

“Family only thing,” Mickey interrupted bitterly, repeating words that Lip had thrown around one too many times. “Yeah, I figured.”

Ian offered an apologetic look from across the table, but didn’t argue for him. Not like last time, when his first thought had been to defend Mickey’s place.

Mickey took the hint.

“I’ll be out back,” Mickey said shortly, directed at Ian, and marched toward the door. “You know, whenever fucking family time is over.”

“Mickey…” Ian called after him, but he didn’t get up. Didn’t follow. And as Mickey left, he could vaguely hear Ian making apologies.

So he didn’t stop when he went down the steps. And he didn’t stop at the gate. He didn’t stop at the sidewalk, or the street, or the edge of the neighborhood.

If he wasn’t fuckin’ family, he didn’t need to be at the family home. So he went to his new one instead.

---

“Mickey?” Ian called out as he entered the apartment, hours later. “Mickey, are you here?”

Mickey didn’t answer. Ian found him anyway.

“There you are,” he said with a sigh as he came into the living room, where Mickey lay sprawled over the sofa. He stopped at Mickey’s side, towering over him.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Ian complained, looking to the device Mickey held with both hands. “Why did you leave?”

“Why do you think?” Mickey answered. “Wasn’t exactly welcome.”

Ian had the grace to look chagrined.

“Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly. “You know how Lip gets…”

“Stupid?” Mickey said, and Ian shrugged.

“I mean, yeah. Kind of.”

Mickey went back to playing on his phone, leaving Ian standing awkwardly at his side.

“I told them I’d come back once I found you,” Ian told him abruptly. “You should come with me.”

Mickey didn’t answer, eyes on his game.

“Will you come?” Ian pressed, and Mickey dropped his phone with a sigh.

“They don’t want me there,” he answered. He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck, and Ian caught it, pulled it away.

“Why would you say that?” he asked, voice earnest, his thumb tracing circles on Mickey’s wrist.

“Dunno,” Mickey lied, then caved immediately. “It’s a family thing,” he said. “And I ain’t family.”

“You’re my family,” Ian countered, but Mickey shook his head, pulling his hand free.

That wasn’t enough.

They were quiet, for a moment, and Mickey was about to give up and pick up his phone again when Ian broke the silence.

“You’re more family than Frank was, if you think about it,” he said suddenly. “Definitely more of a Gallagher, if you only count the good bits.”

“It’s cheating to only count the good parts of me,” Mickey argued, feeling bitter, and Ian knocked his shoulder with his hand.

“Meant only the good bits of being a Gallagher, Mick,” he corrected, rolling his eyes before they settled, soft, on Mickey’s face. “Stuff like being there, taking care of each other. Sticking together when things get rough.”

“Don’t think your brother agrees,” Mickey said flatly, then winced as Ian sat down hard on his outstretched legs.

“My brother,” Ian started, “is an idiot.”

Well, Mickey wasn’t going to argue with that.

“But believe it or not,” Ian continued, “he does think of you as family.” Mickey tried to cut in, but Ian glared at him until he closed his mouth, settling back against the arm of the sofa.

“You know what I heard him telling somebody the other day?” Ian asked. Not waiting for a reply, he said, “that if they had any trouble, he’d sic his brother-in-law on them.”

“Don’t think using me as a threat counts as me being part of the family,” Mickey grumbled, but Ian shook his head.

“Wasn’t a threat,” he explained. “He was offering your services. Cause you’re part of the family, now, and he knows you would help him.”

He would. Of course he would. Without a second thought, even for his least favorite in-law, even at risk for himself. But it was a surprise to hear that Lip knew that.

“Carl tells people you taught him how to fight,” Ian went on. “Brags that the infamous Mickey Milkovich taught him everything, and that’s why he makes a good cop.”

Mickey snorted. Of course that little fucker did.

“Didn’t think he’d grow up to be a pig, did I?” he said, and Ian just smiled.

“Liam tells the school bullies that if they mess with him, his brother will beat them up,” Ian continued. “Didn’t work very well until he said that brother was you.”

“Damn right I would,” Mickey agreed easily, scowling at the idea of anyone giving Liam a hard time. “He’s a good fucking kid.”

“And Franny fucking adores you,” Ian said, knowing it would make Mickey smile. “Which means Debbie does, too.” Ian scooted closer, sitting on Mickey’s thighs instead of his shins.

“You know I offered to babysit the other day, and the first thing Debs asked was if you would be there?” Ian laughed. “She almost said no until I promised you would be.”

“Little sis has good sense,” Mickey muttered, flushing to his ears, and Ian nodded.

“She does,” he agreed. “They all do.” He raised a hand to Mickey’s face, held his cheek. Stroked his thumb over it. “You’re family, Mickey,” he whispered. “And they love you. Just like I do.”

“Fucking sap,” Mickey murmured, leaning into the touch.

“You know it,” Ian said, and pulled him in for a kiss.

When they parted, Ian took Mickey’s worries with him.

“What do you say?” Ian asked softly, hand sliding down to Mickey’s neck. “Come home with me, let them apologize?”

“Thought this was home, now,” Mickey said.

“It is home, for us,” Ian answered. “But the house is home too. Family is home,” he stressed. “And you’re family.”

“Lip ain’t gonna apologize,” Mickey pointed out next, leaning in again, and Ian shrugged.

“Come home with me and tell him he’s an asshole?” Ian offered instead.

Mickey grinned, resting their foreheads together.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I can do that.”

[anythingwriter]

Vipers

Tommy Shelby x reader

Warnings: language, men being sexest, brief mention of death, a little bit of a slow burn

Word Count: 3,900 of pure trash:)

Requested by: @imthebadguyyy

Summary: Thomas Shelby has been expanding his business for years, making deals with other gangs all the time. But the Vipers, they were a different story. They’re crazy and dangerous, and they are not willing to share their land, so Tommy sets up a meeting with their leader. It was not who he expected.

a/n: Dudley is a city in England kind of close to Birmingham, just so y’all know.

*******************************************************

Polly was minding her business, walking around the shop straightening up here and there. It was just her and Esme at the moment, the betting shop had not yet opened. There was supposed to be a family meeting in about ten minutes, but by the looks of it Tommy was going to be late as perusal.

Ada had just walked in, shortly followed by John and Arthur. Finn stayed with Isaiah, Tommy had told him not to come because it was an “adult” meeting. They all sat around, conversing and just having small talk and after twenty minutes of waiting for Tommy, Polly was fed up.

“Where the bloody hell is that brother of yours?”

John and Arthur looked at eachother wearily, should they tell her?

Their looks didn’t go unnoticed by any of the women. Ada was getting frustrated too, Tommy called the damn meeting so where the hell was he?

“C’mon boys, Polly and I want to know.”

Arthur sighed, rubbing a hand down his face and itching his mustache, “so you see ladies, he-”

Arthur was interrupted by the door to the shop slamming open and banging against the wall, Tommy coming in with literal blood on his hands.

“What the fuck Thomas? Where in the bloody hell have you been? An- and is that blood?! Christ Tommy!” Polly was so confused, her nephew came into his own meeting late, with blood on his hands?

Tommy ignored his aunts questions and walked around the table, lit a cigarette and poured himself a glass of whiskey, Irish of course. He grabbed a cloth and began to wipe the blood off of his hands, all while being silent. Everyone else had grown quiet too, waiting for Tommy to speak, or at least acknowledge them.

He drank his whiskey in one gulp and poured another. He then finally looked up at his family, now clean from the blood on his hands. Well, at least the blood that you could see.

“I’ve been trying to make new...acquaintances you could say,” he took a long drag of his cig, “and people were not happy about it.”

The three women looked at Tommy, waiting for him to explain more. John and Arthur already knew everything, they were just sitting there, waiting for their aunt's reaction to what Tommys was about to say. He quickly drank his second glass. Polly copied his actions, bringing her drink to her lips as well.

“As you all know, our business is expanding everyday. We’ve already reached London, and now, now I’m trying to get to Dudley.”

Ada's eyes widened and Esme immediately got up to leave. Polly began to ferociously cough on her drink, not expecting to hear such news. Arthur leaned over in his seat and aggressively started to smack his aunt’s back, trying to help ease her drink down. Tommy sat there just watching everything with a stoic face.

Polly began to swat at Arthurs hands, and he pulled them back raised in the air defensively, not wanting to get hit by his aunt.

She rose from her seat, a look of disbelief on her face and pointed her manicured finger in Tommy's face, “Are you MAD Thomas?! You have no business being on their land! Now you've done dragged us all into this! Thomas, what in the blo-”

“Hear me out Pol, I’ve al-” Polly cut him off like he did her, she was furious. He was going to get them all killed!

“No Thomas, you listen to me. You go on their land and expect to make a peace treaty with them? They’re so good at what they do no one’s ever seen their faces Tom! Just you wait, this is all going to come back and bite you in your ass!” Polly stormed out of the shop and into their house, slamming the doors behind her.

They all sat in silence for a few seconds before John decided to break it, “well, that went better than I thought it would.” Arthur snorted at that, raising his drink to cover the sound.

“Whose blood was on your hands, Tommy?” For the first time the whole meeting, Ada had finally spoken.

“Some man came up to me and told me to leave, saying they didn’t want the devil to walk among their streets. He pulled a knife on me, so I shot him. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that? Simple as that Tommy? You’ve shot one of her men! This is war now Tommy.”

Arthur looked up from his drink and made eye contact with Ada, “Her? Who in the bloody hell said anything about it being a woman, Ada? You really think the leader of The Vipers is a woman?”

“Haven’t you lot heard? There's been rumors for months about the WHOLE gang being run by women.”

John and Arthur both barked out laughter, women? Why would women be running a gang, let alone one as dangerous as The Vipers.

Ada’s face turned red, cursing her sexest brothers. Stupid men and their cocks.

Tommy sat there reclined in his seat, lost in his own thought. It couldn’t be women, could it?

His sister stood up from her seat, yelling at her brothers before leaving the room in the same fashion Polly had, even slamming the door a little harder.

Arthur smacked his hand against the table, breaking Tommy out of his trance. Him and John were still laughing their asses off.

“Women? Can you bloody believe that Tom? A bloody woman!” John doubled back over in laughter again at Arthurs words. Tommy still just sat there, watching his brothers laugh. He got up to leave the shop, heading to London to see a certain Solomons.

*******************************************************

“Tommy, what can I do for you mate?” Alfie was loud, as usual.

Tommy sat in front of Alfie, preparing himself for the conversation ahead of him. “There’s word going around, Alfie, that you are the only ally of The Vipers, is that true?”

Alfie stared blankly ahead of himself before letting out a loud boisterous laugh that had Ollie wincing in the corner. He looked at Tommy and immediately stopped when he saw Tommy was serious.

“Oh, oh you’re serious?” What business could you possibly want with The Vipers Tommy?”

“Is that a yes or no, Alfie? Are you allies with them?”

Alfie eyeballed Tommy before sighing and nodding his head. Tommy smirked at his small victory. “I’m wanting to do business with him, Alfie. I want to expand and put some of my men in Dudley. But, I need help. I’ve heard they’re unpredictable, especially their leader. Would you care to tell me his name, Alf?”

Again, Alfie laughed. He stood up with the help of his cane and leaned on his large desk closer to Tommy, “right, there's two things you need to know Tom. First of all, they are unpredictable and they wouldn’t hesitate to bite your head off if you backstabbed them, yeah.” He paused for a second, debating if he should tell Tommy the second part.

Tommy nodded, waiting for Alfie to continue, but he didn’t.

“What’s the second thing?”

Alfie just smirked down at the brummie, “That's for me to know and for you to find out.”

*******************************************************

Three days later it was Friday evening and Tommy had invited everyone for a family dinner, it was all Polly’s idea. They were all gathered around the unnecessary large dining table at Arrow house. Charlie sat next to Tommy, Esme and John were next to each other, their hundreds of kids all at home with a sitter, along with Karl. Polly and Ada were sat side by side and Arthur was in the corner of the room pouring himself a drink. It was getting late, everyone had already ate their dinner and dessert.

“Mary, could you take Charlie up to bed? It’s getting late.”

She quickly walked around the table nodding her head, “Yes, Mr.Shelby.”

Everyone had migrated to the living room now, for once not talking about business. Their laughing was interrupted when there was a knock on the door, they all stood up.

“Who could that possibly be this late at night?” The loud knock had put all of them on edge.

The men all drew their guns, walking to the door, telling the woman to stay put. Naturally none of them listened and they all followed behind the boys.

Tommy swung the door open with his gun pointed out, ready to shoot whoever was there. They were all confused when they didn’t see anybody, but they were even more confused when they looked down to see a box with Tommy’s name on it.

Polly smacked Tommy on the back of his head, “Don't just stand there you idiot, bring the box in!” She reached down and grabbed the box, bringing it in and sitting it on the living room table.

John was a little hesitant, why was there a box? Who had dropped it off?

Tommy inspected the box, it didn’t seem harmful, but that didn’t stop his nerves. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was a little freaked out at the package too. He slowly reached for the box and ever so slowly opened it.

“BLOODY HELL!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“TOMMY I-”

“WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT?!”

Everyone was screaming and panicking, Tommy had jumped back and almost tripped over his feet, the women had all run to the next room and the men had drawn their guns once again.

Lunging out of the box was a bright green fluorescent Viper, hungry for blood. It striked again, almost catching Esme by the arm as she ran by it. It slithered out the box, its fangs out waiting to catch someone. Arthur began shooting at the floor, steadily putting holes in it. Tommy had finally stood back up, and John reached for Esme to check her for injuries. Arthur kept shooting, still putting bullet holes in Tommy's wooden floors.

A loud bang echoed through the house, and it wasn’t Arthur because he had run out of ammo. There stood Ada with a small revolver in her had, and a bullet lodged in the snakes head. Everyone stopped to stare at her, eyes wide in shock.

“Guess chasing rats finally paid off, huh?”

Polly had walked back in the room and bent down to inspect the green snake before standing up to look Tommy in the eyes.

John hugged Esme to his chest and turned towards his brother, “What in the bloody hell is this Tom?”

Tommy looked at John blankly, he himself didn’t even know. He went to make something up but Pol had beaten him to it.

“This, John,” she reached down and picked up the dead but still squirming snake, “is what you call a Viper.” And with that she flung the snake at Tommy who jumped back in disgust.

Adas head perked up at that, “A viper? But how, they're not native.”

Everyone thought about it a moment, before they put the pieces together. Polly began to laugh maniacally and everyone averted their gaze to her, had she gone mad?

“I told you Thomas! I told you this was going to come back and bite you in your ass!”

Tommy sighed and ran a hand down his sweating face before peering in the box again. Inside was a note and he reached in to grab it and he read it aloud, “Stay off our land Shelby.”

Everyone began to fret again. They were running around like a chicken that got its head cut off, screaming about how Tommy never should have stepped foot in Dudley.

Tommy sat down on his couch, thinking about what to do. What if Charlie had been downstairs? The snake surely would have gotten to him, after all he is just a child. He needed a smoke and a drink as soon as possible, he stood up and marched up to his office to make a phone call, completely ignoring his family's calls of his name

*******************************************************

Two weeks after the snake incident, Tommy had managed to get a meeting with you, thanks to the one and only Alfie Solomons. When Tommy had told him what had happened that night he shook his head and chucked, telling Tommy you had done the same thing to him all those years ago. But Tommy still didn’t know who you were.

The three eldest Shelby’s stepped out of Tommy's car and landed on the Dudely turf, they all felt a little uneasy about the situation. They began to follow the directions Alfie had given them, the area getting more and more sketchier as they went.

Dudley was very dull, the sky was always grey and the streets were always muddy. The air was foggy like Birmingham, maybe even worse. They were getting looks everywhere they turned, none of them being used to it considering their name.

A loud clang of metal caught their attention and they all turned to look. All three of them pulled their guns when they saw a scruffy man charging them with a knife. Right when Arthur was about to pull the trigger, they all four stopped when someone yell.

Another man came running towards them, screaming at the man that was attacking them.

“Stop Marc! They’re here because Yilan has agreed to meet with them!”

The man stopped what he was doing immediately, turning as pale as a ghost and dropped his weapon to the ground. He turned back around to the Shleby’s and apologized profusely before running off.

The three brothers looked at each other in confusion.

“What the fuck was that about? Who the hell is Yilan?” John was asking too many questions and Tommy didn’t have the answers to them.

“I don’t fucking know John, now shut the hell up!”

(a/n: Yilan means snake in Turkish [which is my family’s native language])

The man who had stopped the other walked up to the brothers.

“I am sorry, sirs. Yilan is what we call the leader of the Vipers.”

Tommy nodded a thanks to the man, asking him if he could take them to their headquarters. The man reluctantly agreed, not wanting to get on anyones bad side.

After around twenty more minutes of walking they stopped in front of a worn down brick building. It had vines growing up the whole thing and two very, very large men were guarding the door. Their escort had scurried off as soon as they got there, Tommy not even being able to thank the man.

The brothers began to walk towards the door and Arthur leaned down to whisper, “Ha, and Ada said they were run by women!”

John chuckled, he couldn’t wait to tell Ada she was wrong. Tommy hushed the two before speaking to the men guarding the door.

They both stared at the brothers, almost as if they were staring into their souls. They didn’t speak, waiting for one of the others to.

Tommy cleared his throat, “We’re here to see your boss. We have a meeting, Thomas Shelby.”

The larger out of the two opened the door, “Third floor straight down the hallway.” Tommy nodded his head before heading in, the two brothers following his lead.

The inside of the building was loud with music and the walls were all painted bright green. Tommy guessed for a viper. They all walked in a little further and stopped in their tracks, shock registering through their veins.

There was not one man inside. The room was full of women from every race you could imagine. Some had a tattoo here and there, some were covered in them. There was women with red curly hair, others with black straight. Any type of woman you could imagine, from short to tall and thin to curvy, was there. And they were all staring at them.

Arthur gulped and John smirked but then quickly frowned when he realised that his sister was right, this whole gang was women. He did have to admit though, it was a little sexy, even though he knew half of them could probably kick his ass.

Tommy cleared his throat before walking ahead, not making eye contact with any of the women. He walked towards the stairs and climbed them until he got to the third floor and walked straight down the hallway. When they reached the door Tommy hesitated for a moment before knocking. A faint “come in” was heard, and they all walked in.

Sitting behind a large oak desk was you, relaxing in your chair with a wicked smile on your face. You were so ready to finally meet the man who wanted your land.

Not making any effort to sit up in a more presentable position, you gestured to the three chairs in front of you, telling them to take a seat.

Tommy and John did but Arthur was still hesitant. What had they walked into?

“No offense ma’am, I think I would rather stand,” he was fidgeting the whole time and you could smell his nervousness. Tommy looked up and glared at his older brother.

You leaned forward in your chair and rested your arms on your desk and sat your chin on your hands. “Please, Arthur, take a seat before I shoot both your knee caps and make you sit.” You pulled a gun and sat it on your desk, smiling up at Arthur.

John was a nervous wreck and Arthur visibly gulped and sat down with shaky legs. Tommy kept staring at you though, he thought you were beautiful, but psycho. You intrigued him.

You leaned back in your chair again, leaving the gun on the desk. “Mr.Shelby, I do really hope you enjoyed my gift the other day. Alfie told me it brought… excitement to your family.”

God you were definitely psycho.

Tommy cleared his throat, “Ms.Yilan I-”

You sat back up again, “No no no, Mr.Shelby, that is not my name. Please, call me y/n.”

For a brief moment there, you almost seemed normal. It scared the brothers how easily your emotions changed.

“Right, okay. Let's not even talk about that, okay? Let's just get straight to business. And please, call me Tommy”

“I like the way you think, Tommy.”

And boy did you like the way he looked too.

“First of all Tommy, I do NOT like you coming on to MY land and shooting MY people.” You were getting angry, your eyes were ablaze and your jaw was clenched.

“That man you shot, Tommy, had a family. He had a wife and two daughters, and now I have to spend MY money on them because YOU shot their caretaker. I could be doing so much more with that money.”

Tommy was taken aback with your forwardness, those were not the words he was expecting to hear.

“He charged me with a knife, it was self de-”

“Nonsense Tommy! You could have simply knocked him out, anything but shoot him! He was an innocent man Thomas!”

Tommy sighed, he knew there was no winning this. “You’re right, and I apologize for my mistake.”

John and Arthur looked at each other with wide eyes, Tommy apologized?

“Thank you, but your apology is not accepted, but I do believe we're even.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed, even? How were you even?

This caught Johns interest too, “Even? How do you mean?”

You smirked at all of them and they became concerned, what had you done?

“On your way here, hope you all had a nice trip by the way, I sent two of my women to your town. I told them to do exactly as you did, but add some Viper charm to it. They took my beloved snake Ebony with them, and they allowed her to pick an innocent man, like you had.”

Tommy was definitely confused now, where was this going?

“She did amazing, really. She struck an innocent man in the streets. And I would say that right about now,” you checked your watch, “her venom is kicking in, and he is dying a slow and painful death.” You looked up at the three, flashing them an innocent smile.

“You fucking crazy bitch! What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!” Arthur lunged for you across your desk, Tommy and John trying to stop him.

He grabbed your gun that you left on the table and pointed it straight to your face. All you did was smirk at him.

Tommy pleadingly begged Arthur to put the gun down, but you held up your hand to stop him. He looked at you like you were crazy. Which to be fair, you were.

“Go on Arthur,” you pressed your head closer to the barrel, “I know you want to. Why don’t you pull it, huh? Do the world a favor and get rid of a crazy bitch like me.”

Arthur stared in your eyes, looking for any sign of fear. He found none. He thought about it for a moment, should he do it? After all, the world would be a better place.

He smiled, and pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened, his smile fell when he heard you laughing. He opened the barrel to the gun and found that there were no bullets, you had played him. He backed away and fell back in his chair when you got up. You pulled a gun from the waistband of your trousers and pointed it towards him, shooting a shot that whizzed by his head so he knew this one was full. John flinched, and Tommy reached for his own gun.

You pointed your gun at John and then back at Arthur, “You two, get out. I want to speak to Thomas. Alone.”

They both got up and scurried out the door like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. You put your gun away which was a sign for Tommy too as well, and you both sat down.

“Now Thomas, lets talk about business, yeah?”

*******************************************************

Almost an hour later you and Tommy had finally come to terms and made a small business deal. It wasn’t anything big, but it was a start. Tommy still sat in front of you, drinking his whiskey that you had poured him. Oddly enough he had grown to like you.

Strangely, so had you.

Tommy put out his cigarette and pointed his drink in your direction, “What’re you doing this Friday y/n?”

You pretended to check your agenda, and smiled at Tommy. “Well, hopefully I’ll being going on a date with a very handsome man.”

He smiled up at you “He must be quite handsome for you to agree.”

“That he is Tommy. How about you?”

He smirked at you through the rim of his drink, “Oh you know, I’m going on a date with one crazy bitch.”

******************************************************

I hope you like it @imthebadguyyy !! Although, I low key hated it😂😂

Have a great day darlings!!❤️❤️❤️

Let me know if y’all want to be added to the taglist!!

@nothingleftthaticando @shadowfoxey

[the-only-ace]

Hey I know you are really busy with all the request and job and all that but can you do shinee's reaction to s/o stealing their t-shirts and hoodies?? You can make them one shots of you want too😁

shinee reacts: their s/o wearing their clothes

heyyy~ i really liked this request because i personally love to do this. for this request, i want to try something new since you gave me an idea with the one-shots part. so instead of describing their reactions, i'll convey it in a form of a short story. it will still be per member! i hope you will like this one (heads up though, the posts is a bit longer than my usual shinee reacts) <3

p.s. if you guys can, kindly let me know if you like this kind of format for shinee reacts. thank you!

send in your requests here!

onew / jinki: you sighed for the nth time within just 10 short minutes. you were staring and pouting in front of your closet for you can't find the perfect clothes for your brunch date with onew. it was a hot day today and you just wanted to wear something cute but comfortable. however, it seems like your wardrobe doesn't offer that kind of outfit.

your eyes slowly traveled toward onew's part of the closet. his side was full of quirky graphic tees which you always find adorable. you don't usually borrow his clothes but you can't help but to take a peek at them and take the one that caught your eyes.

it was a white oversized shirt with a cute box cartoon drawn in front of it. you tried it on and it stopped perfectly on your thighs, making it look like a cute dress. surprisingly, it even matches the pair of sneakers you were wearing.

before you can even decide whether you were keeping it on or not, onew walked into your room. his hair a bit damp and he was only wearing a towel considering that he just took a shower.

"oh, is that my shirt?" he pointed at you.

"uh... yeah. do you mind? i just wanted to wear something that is yours." you sheepishly replied.

"no problem!" he beamed his big bright smile before proceeding to get his own outfit.

you muttered a thank you then went to your vanity to finish touching up your makeup. afterward, you grabbed your phone and wallet and placed them inside your shoulder bag.

"alright, I'm ready to go..." you trailed off as you saw what he looked like. "what the hell are you wearing, lee jinki?"

"your shirt?" he raised an eyebrow, clearly feigning ignorance.

he was wearing your favorite grey t-shirt and it looked pitiful on him, it was as if it can tear at any moment. it barely covered his abdomen and was stretched to its limit.

"no shit, sherlock." you facepalmed at his usual weirdness. "what i want to know is why... why are you wearing it?"

"i thought we were doing a thing wherein we wear each other's clothes." he shrugged as if his response should be expected.

"what? no! please have mercy on my shirt and put on your own clothes." you can't help but laugh at him as you pushed him back to the dresser.

"alright, alright! i just wanted to make you laugh and look, it worked perfectly." he playfully pinched the tip of your nose before taking off the top he borrowed. "also, you should keep that shirt since it looks a hundred--no, million--times better on you."

"thanks, love," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a warm hug.

key / kibum:

after the long busy months, you were finally having a girl's night with your best friends. you stood in front of the full-length mirror in your room to give yourself a final check. your hair was styled into textured waves and your lips were colored with the boldest red lipstick you can find. your nude heels matched the little black dress you were wearing. your outfit looked almost perfect and you just knew what you were missing. you quickly snatched key's gold leather jacket and put it on. ah, perfection.

this was the norm for you. your boyfriend's wardrobe was beyond incredible especially his outerwear collection and you just had to wear them every chance you can get. to be honest, key was very stubborn in letting you borrow his clothes... at first. after all the compromising, begging, and crying you made, he eventually budged and gave up. of course, it does not come for free. he practically made you sign a contract that once you stained his clothes, you have to shoulder the bill of the laundry and the shop will be chosen by him. however, if you damaged or god forbid, lost his clothes, you have to replace them. you immediately said yes to all of the conditions in a heartbeat. so far you only paid for 2 incredulously expensive laundry bills.

now, you were finally ready to leave. you walked out of the bedroom and made your way down the living room. there, key was sitting on the couch watching one of his favorite tv series.

"I'll be going out now," you announced as you grab your car keys near the front door.

"hey, hey, hey!" key clicked his tongue upon seeing your clothes. he was now looking behind his shoulder and giving you a stink eye. "is that my jacket?"

"um... maybe?" you gave him an awkward smile.

"of course, it's mine." he shook his head disapprovingly. "only i can pull that off, by the way." he sassily added.

"wow, i didn't know the fashion police was here. you should have given me a head's up, babe ." you bit back with a scoff. the last time you checked, you looked damn fine in it.

"just stating facts, baby," he replied in english.

"alright, then why don't you take me shopping then? so you can buy me a new set of clothes that will satisfy your standards." you challenged and if he said yes, you were clearly the winner.

"excuse me, i do call you 'baby' but i am not your sugar daddy. go now, you'll be late." he shooed you off.

"okay bye," a playful smirk appeared on your face. "daddy."

this made key rolled his eyes before turning his back on you. he would very much rather ignore you if you keep on acting that way.

"it's bye now, for real." you giggled as you open the door. "love you!" you called out before stepping out.

"love you too, brat." key mumbled with a small smile.

minho:

winter was approaching and the air was slowly becoming colder than usual. it was the best time to stay in the comfort of your warm home and enjoy hot cocoa with your loved ones. a perfect time to wear your sweaters and hoodies indoors. however, this was not the case for minho for his favorite hoodie was missing.

"hey, babe?" he called out from the bedroom. "have you seen my black hoodie? the one with the white writings on it."

"what's that, i didn't hear you?" you went inside a few seconds later.

and there it was, his favorite hoodie being worn by his favorite person. you looked smaller while wearing it since it was way too big for you. the hem almost touched your knees and your whole arms were lost inside the sleeves. he can't help but smile at the sight.

"nothing, i was just looking for my hoodie but it looks like i found it." he gestured at the clothes you were wearing.

"oh, shoot. sorry, i didn't tell you that i borrowed it." you hit your forehead with your palm.

"it's okay. you're free to use them anytime, anyway." he patted the top of your head.

within the last few weeks, minho noticed that you sometimes wear his clothes. it was not a daily thing though and you even asked for his permission. slowly, it became every day and he would just be surprised to see you walking around the house parading his jackets and sweaters. he didn't mind it though, he was just curious about what you do to your own clothing. also, he hoped that he still had some remaining tops for himself during the cold season.

well, guess luck was not on his side.

his eyes were staring at his closet wherein there was only one jacket left, one. you followed his gaze and you promptly felt the warmth raised to your cheeks. you were surely red from embarrassment now. you were happily wearing his clothes that you didn't have the time to count how much was left.

"oh my god, i'm sorry! i didn't--" you cut yourself off as you watched him put on the lone jacket from his dresser. "i'm sorry, i didn't notice it. i just... can't help myself. your jackets are so comfortable and warm compare to mine." you tried to explain yourself. also not to mention that they all smelled just like him.

"don't worry about it." he reassured you as he placed his arm around your shoulder. "just be mindful next time. i might end up half-naked someday, you know."

"how can you be so sure that's not my goal?" you teased before sticking your tongue out.

he laughed at your silliness and then pressed a soft kiss on your warm forehead. you decided to make a cup of hot cocoa for him as a peace offering.

taemin:

it was past midnight and it was raining cats and dogs outside. you visited taemin in his apartment for a stay-at-home dinner date but a storm came before you can even go back home. taemin then convinced you to spend the night there instead. it was not a big deal anyway since you stayed over a lot of times already. you just didn't bring your sleepover bag with you and the dress you were wearing was definitely not comfortable to sleep on.

your caring boyfriend of course promised to ease your worries. the two of you shared a warm bath after dinner and he lent you his clothes for you to change to. so that was how you ended up on his couch, fighting off sleep because the show you both were watching always had a cliffhanger ending per episode. you two needed some answers before you can drift off to sleep peacefully. it was the weekend tomorrow anyway so staying up late won't hurt that much.

your head was laying on his lap while his right hand was playing on the locks of your hair and his left one was comfortably resting on the top of your hip. his hand would occasionally rub circles on the exposed skin. as much as you hate to move from your cozy spot, you had to or else you might end up dozing off right there and then. not to mention, him playing on your hair does not help at all.

you slowly got up from the sofa as you tried to stifled a yawn. "i'll just go get some cold drink." you pushed yourself up from your seat.

you then raised your arms and stretched with a satisfied groan. your shoulders and back were sore after laying down for more or less 3 hours. you can even hear your joints cracking from stretching out. also, you felt the shirt you were wearing raised up.

taemin's shirts were not overly huge for you whenever you wore them. the hem barely covered your behind and right now you were sure that a tiny portion of your buttcheeks was peeking through the white tee. you weren't conscious about it, taemin saw much more than that anyway.

suddenly, you felt a slap across your behind which made you freeze on your spot. you looked behind and saw your boyfriend confidently leaning on the couch with his legs crossed.

"did you just slap my butt?" you inquired.

"uh-huh," he nodded with a cocky grin. "want me to spank you again?"

you frowned a little as you processed the sudden change of mood. taemin won't deny it though, seeing you in his shirts always made his heart skip a bit and his breathing ragged. you always looked effortlessly sexy in them.

"sure, why not?" you replied wickedly after a few seconds of silence.

taemin processed your answer in a split second and he hastily grabbed you by the waist and threw you on his broad shoulders. he did not forget you give you another smack on the ass when he made his way toward the bedroom, the television was completely forgotten.

[ganymedesclock]

Ooh ooh ooh, how about your version of Sonic for the powers thing?

You see, Sonic is fast, because if he doesn't keep ahead of his problems, he'll have to actually think about them, and then he'll have a crisis.

This is partially a fun opener joke and it's also not. I'll let you decide how much of each it is. In the meantime, I'm going to talk about what my reads of various canons inspire in me, and how that informs Worlds AU, a bit more than talking about Worlds AU itself.

So Sonic in the initial game canon, started out with an extremely simple conceit. You can see this mirrored across all of the non-Amy classic characters: Sonic runs, that's his thing; Tails flies, Knuckles punches, Eggman makes robots and also problems, which sort of condenses into one thing considering the role robots have in the classic games.

(that damn caterkiller has cost me SO many attempts at a chaos emerald...)

This sort of got to be a problem as the games advanced. In particular, the Sonic game I started on was Sonic Adventure 2, which pitted Sonic very prominently off of Shadow. At this point, character concepts are no longer about simple capabilities, and every other member of the cast has grown up. (even Amy... though not too much. sorry Amy). Tails is now building robots to go with how his flight allows him to reach unconventional 'tricky' routes; Knuckles is now more of an adventurer, explorer, and even a mystic given his history and relationship with the emeralds. This earthly pugilist sense grounds him in a more versatile skill-set.

Sonic... basically his gimmick was remaining true to the classic formula- he was still the one going fast, popping those shuttle loops, and tumbling through a chaotic universe. Yes, they absolutely polished this and put flourishes on it- now he's grinding rails and flipping on poles, this sense of street-smart parkour that carries him cheekily through any environment...

But he's played off Shadow, where the thing about Shadow, especially in the first game, is Shadow is a person who suppresses most of his personality for his context. Not in an inorganic or badly written sense, mind- but he outright says to Rouge at one point that it doesn't matter if anything he remembers is fake- in essence, that it's more real than he is, and a dead person's wish is more important than his life.

Shadow is a soldier, is an alien, is a bioweapon, is a teleporter and he shoots lasers. We are beyond the days of simple conceits; if he was conceived in the classic era, he'd have probably been either only a jet-skater or a teleporter, and that one conceit about how he moved through the world would've been through everything.

Sonic picks up the chaos control from Shadow- in direct reaction to Shadow- and this is commented on. In this scene, Sonic not only rejects Shadow's unhealthy obsession with context- that where he came from was everything- but mirrors it with an attitude that, frankly, to me, rings just as unbalanced- Sonic basically denies having a backstory whatsoever.

"What you see is what you get!" he says.

And that flew in the classic era. We didn't really have a consistent or strongly-drawn backstory over why Sonic was fast. Most continuities around that era point it to either an accident or a happenstance synergy with an outside force. But we didn't really need a story over why Tails can fly or why Knuckles had spurs on his fists.

But in the modern era... there's context. Many characters have superpowers. And more and more, there was a sense that those superpowers had context and history, whether the outright spelled, like Shadow (he was engineered to be capable of this; if you look at him, he has most of the abilities you'd expect of a boss fight in Resident Evil, minus the squelchy, infectious sorts and the Black Arms imply he could well have those and just not use them)

...or the simply alluded, such as Blaze's ominous comment that her flames are the reason she was always alone.

Sonic... clearly has powers. He's been reframed to keep up with he setting as it changes. But that exchange between him and Shadow- where Shadow looks at what Sonic is capable of, looks at him, and asks, verbatim, "what are you," and Sonic delivers a non-answer so naked and so certain that there's not really anything to say to that.

To this end, while I think it's highly intuitive that they picked the wind as the motif to spice Sonic up to- with its sense of freedom, and with its association with speed- I think there's also something about air in general that connects to Sonic.

Air is... omnipresent. It has an extremely complex seething system high overhead. Enormous paths and belts and spirals of wind curl over us all the time, pushing clouds the size of entire states around like it's nothing. When you look at the sky, it looks stationary. But wait, squint- it's actually moving. It's actually moving really fast.

One of my absolute favorite characterizing moments of Sonic is in Archie Comics, specifically the post-reboot series. To keep context minimal, Tails confides in Sonic that he's losing his memory of a certain incident that affected both of them, and he's worried; Sonic reassures him, typical hero big brother best friend, and gives him a big hug. The scene is warmly lit.

The very next panel is literally in the shadows, over Tails' shoulder and behind his back. And Sonic's expression is... troubled. Telling. We immediately understand from that alone he just lied, and has no ability to 'just remember for Tails'.

Sonic is not a vacuous person. He's not empty, he's not innocent, and he's certainly not just your same good nostalgic friend who never changed or got complicated so you don't have to reevaluate all of those things- the guy you can always count on, just like the sky is always there- but he sure pretends to be all of those things, and tries to keep the stormy weather as far away from other people as possible.

This is given another heroic-sounding-but-actually-concerning context in Sonic Unleashed, one of several games in which Sonic shows a maybe suspicious but profound aptitude for darkness where he guzzles and serves as a very powerful conduit for the energy of Dark Gaia, who is strongly connoted with rage, despair, denial, and other states considered bad for your health.

Sonic asks Chip- who he's just found out is Dark Gaia's counterpart- if it was his protection that kept him from losing his mind the entire time. Chip denies this, and states instead it's that "you never let the darkness win."

The thing is... anger and sadness are actually pretty important to feel. And it's actually not true that Sonic as a character doesn't feel anger- there's a few rather notable scenes in which he really loses his cool, some of them within Sonic Unleashed itself (he actually scares Eggman at the culmination of the Egg Dragoon fight) and in the game Sonic and the Secret Rings he actually achieves a super form powered by negative emotions- and that game also ends on a surprisingly melancholy note, where Shahra, when leaving Sonic, specifically gives him a bunch of tissues, a nod to how they met, and specifically "So you can cry as much as you need to."

Sonic is a good person. But Sonic is also... kind of a liar. He has this powerful connection to these highly destructive and dangerous entities- Dark Gaia, Chaos- and this is a thing he, pointedly, doesn't wonder about. And it's not arrogance, or an inability to consider the possibilities- in Sonic Colors he is very real with himself that he can't outrun a black hole, but only admits that once Tails is out of earshot on the one safe ride away from it- and while gearing up to try to do so anyway.

Wind is a contradictory thing. In the sky, we consider the possibility of ultimate freedom; flight and wings are often depicted as symbols of enormous power and efficacy because the very notion of being able to go wherever you want to captivates us.

On the other hand, though, a state of freefall is terrifying. In the unparalleled freedom of the sky, absolutely nothing can catch you if you fall.

(you know, except Tails, if you're fighting Eggman in Marble Garden- I'll leave)

We can talk about a bolt from the blue, a sudden storm or a just-as-sudden clear blue sky... the mechanisms of the air around us are often very hard to perceive for their superficial simplicity. And on sunny days when the wind lazes slowly through the leaves, it's hard to think of it as capable of hurricane forces.

I guess the note I want to leave this on is, it's pretty interesting how Sonic genuinely likes running, but he also tends to either outrun or fight anything that stresses him out- and "what he is" and "what he's capable of" is something he really doesn't like talking about even if he's happy to show or compete it.

[aetheternity]

Hello! I’ve read your work and fallen in love! I don’t know if your requests are open, but I really like the Armin x you x Levi post you wrote🥰 may I please request a smut of this? Thank you!

First of all thank you! I'm so glad you're in love with my work. 😊 Second of all I'm sorry this took a while I got sick and writing smut while being sick is honestly disgusting. Plus I recently fell in love with Saiki K and have been binge watching it . 🤭 N e ways! Hope you enjoy this.

Warnings: Polyamory, threesome, Nsfw content.

Ok you'll be honest with yourself four years ago you didn't expect to be as happy as you are now. 

After you'd grown sick of your living arrangement with your parents. You'd left that life behind. Moving into the small empty bedroom your best friend since your last year of middle school had open in his surprisingly tiny apartment. 

And when you said tiny. You meant tiny. 

Some rooms in the apartment weren't even big enough for someone to stand in with their arms outstretched. Not to mention a couple of your nights were spent huddled next to Armin on the couch with a huge blanket around your bodies because the heat randomly shut off. 

You'd think a situation like that would be worse. But weirdly enough it had been the best for both of you as your relationship had always had a sort of looming sexual tension that went unexplored. 

Long lingering touches to your waist got just a little bit longer while trying to squeeze past you in the bathroom. "Sorry I just need my brush." Armin would whisper. Warm palm against your hip. The ghost of his pelvic bone so close yet so far away. Just the realization making you arch in his grasp. You'd hold his gaze and in the back of your mind you could watch the soft slither of his tongue as it wet his gorgeous pink lips so many times over. 

Of course it escalated with neither of you ever saying a word about your feelings. You spraying water from the sink on a shirtless Armin during a heat wave that just wouldn't let up as he walked into the kitchen wearing only grey sweatpants. (Yup.. only sweatpants.) The way they hung so low on his hips practically begging for your tongue to stretch across the expanse of his pelvis. 

Him hugging you tight around the waist for literally any reason he could think of. (And he found a new reason everyday.)

And then it escalated a little further.. you pulling back the shower curtain to "complain" about him eating your leftovers. Him pulling you into his lap while the two of you watched tv. 

And one day it just ended. And by ended it meant you two opened a bottle of wine on New Years and the ball wasn't the only thing that dropped. He had you laying ass up, legs spread and pussy sobbing as he rocked your hips for eight fucking hours with no stop. Did that table break? During hour five but Armin managed. 

And then you guys moved. After a mutual agreement that the two of you were aware of each other's feelings and wanted to be together. You'd both managed to pool enough money together to afford a bigger place with two bedrooms. One unused and one that was immediately broken in with Armin over stimulating you the second the boxes were halfway unpacked. 

Fast forward to a man named Levi moving in across the hall, him developing feelings for you over a long period of seeing you daily thanks to his best friend absolutely adoring you and constantly inviting herself into you and Armin's home.

After a while you'd started picking up on the signs of his affection too. His long glances that sometimes didn't even break when you looked back at him. The little gifts that began to show up at your door. The way he'd bring over food when he knew Armin wasn't home. 

Once you'd started to develop feelings too Armin allowed you a night. One night to see if those feelings were actually real and what they might mean. Cue a night of carriage rides, roses (lots and lots of roses), stargazing and a kiss that damn near floored you and it was more than one night. 

Two nights and Levi had had you on his couch with him snuggled in what would soon become your favorite blanket. Three nights and Levi had you eating his mom's homemade spaghetti. And by a week you were begging for Levi to fuck you harder, fingers shaking on his white tiled kitchen floor. His relentless thrusts still causing your thighs to tremble hours after. 

He looked so lost in bliss in a way you'd never seen him before and you hugged onto him so tight you didn't even go back to Armin that night. Just curled up under your favorite blanket on his couch with his cock nestled deep inside you. His kisses littering your face till the moment you fell asleep. 

It was definitely a cause for fear. An unrelenting kind and you sat down on the couch with Armin the next day explaining how deeply you loved them both. Only to be shocked when he brought up the topic of polyamory. It definitely shocked you a ton when Armin agreed to it after some explanation of his own feelings but the real surprise was Levi explaining how he'd also thought about it and would be up for it. 

And thus began the beautiful bloom of a poly relationship after him and Armin had gotten better acquainted. You know after you guys all moved because Levi hated living in the apartment. 

The three of you left to live in a gorgeous house. (For once you were living in a place with more than one floor and an island in the kitchen.) A place you'd been calling home for over a year now. 

~~~~ 

Your breath hitched soft moans stuttering off your lips. You don't even remember who started it but here you and Armin were, his breath tickling every bit of your face with sweet languid kisses. One hand brushing over every curve you possessed while the other was softly brushing in between your pussy lips. 

Your body perched in his lap as he sat against the headboard. Pillows scattered around the two of you as you writhe and begged for more of his touch. 

You were probably drawing blood where you were grasping his shoulders but you couldn't even begin to think about it. Armin's warm breath tickling your lips in a soft chuckle. The tips of his fingers softly caressing your clit as you let out little whimpers of pleasure. 

"You promise you'll moan nice and loud for daddy's fingers?" He asked, closing the distance between your lips with a much slower kiss. 

"Yes." You could feel his nail brush inside and you almost buried his fingers but his harsh grip on your ass paused your movements. Your thighs shook and you rubbed your forehead against his. Leaned into his broad chest with both hands. "Please daddy.." 

"Good girl." 

With one more small kiss he laid you out flat on the bed free hand coming up to squeeze your areola. With a tap of your outer thigh you spread for him watching the way his spit dribbled off his lips and directly onto your already wet hole. The mixture making a much wetter sound as he pumped two fingers fully inside. 

With a gasp you yanked the sheets hard, almost squeezing your thighs together. His fingers curling, snatching your breath away. The bed creaked a little as he repositioned himself, stomach flat against the sheets with his mouth on your thighs. Spreading a soft array of little open mouthed kisses. 

"A-Armin.." 

"Keep your ankles in the air, love. I don't wanna punish you tonight." He breathed 

You sucked in a breath, reaching out to hold your ankles. Almost immediately you felt embarrassed by the high pitched moan that fell off your lips at the first long slide of his flat tongue over your pussy lips.

And then right in between them in a beckoning motion over your clit that had you biting into your lip. The smile on his lips so evident over your core. 

You lifted your head in time to watch the slow drip of more of his saliva stretch between your clit and his bottom lip. Tongue immediately outstretched with eyes drawn to your features as he lapped it back up again. 

With his free hand he spread apart your pussy lips a little further giving your clit an almost harsh knead with his thumb. The friction making you cry out and almost drop your legs onto his back. 

His fingers carefully slipped out of you to your own dismay. The slow drag against your walls almost painful, that is until his tongue was sliding in to replace them. Giving your inner walls a massage that made your gaze fall white. 

You felt him hum. Sweet vibrations flowing through your cunt as he slurped down every bit of your juices. His arms snaking around your legs to yank you so much closer as he pushed his tongue impossibly deeper. 

"Daddy.." You begged 

"Shh, keep moaning for me baby.." He hummed, flicking your clit with his thumb. 

You obeyed with an arch that probably could've launched you off the bed if not for Armin's tight hold. Your eyes squeezed shut, brain going completely empty. 

"Such a good girl." He breathed "So good for daddy." 

The pad of his tongue stretched over both sides of your lips with little nibbles. Sucking the skin into his mouth roughly. You could feel his eyes on you, practically see those bright blues pop with lust as he pressed his tongue back inside with languid thrusts. 

Your heartbeat pounded in your ear and you felt the hold he had on your legs loosen. His two fingers delving and sliding back into your warm fluttering cunt. The overwhelming pleasure forcing your hands back on the bed holding out for dear life. 

"Daddy.. daddy please.." You cried 

"Getting close baby?" When you nodded vigorously he smirked. "Come on baby almost there." He hummed 

He sped up his tongue, fingers stretching you open quickly adding another. Your breath caught with a high pitched cry that left tears  flowing over your cheeks. An endless chorus of his name flooding off your lips. His own moans sending vibrations through your core. 

Your stomach tightened, toes curling in the air as you tried and failed to steady your breathing. One of your hands unfurled itself from the sheets now sticking to your sweat soaked body. Carding it in the beautiful blond locks between your legs. 

"Baby.. baby I'm about to-" He sucked your clit into his mouth and your eyes went hazy, head falling back. 

"Finish baby, come on.." He whispered 

Your lips spewed curse words between every breath lost. When his fingers tapped smoothly against your g-spot you knew that was it for you. And with one last shudder you came around his fingers, screaming his name as your orgasm racked over you in a loud burst. 

And he licked up every drop, nose buried to collect it all like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. 

"A-Armin.." You shuddered body flush and hazy. 

His fingers feel wet, a combination of your pussy juices and the sweat between both your bodies. You slowly blinked in the darkness combing strands of his hair back as your lips made contact. The mixture of your taste and his on your tongue, in an almost overwhelming way. 

You tensed under him. Hands stretching over every part of him you could reach only for him to back away a bit. With your nails still gently grazing over your back he pressed his damp forehead into yours, fingers sweeping over every bit of bare skin. 

With barely any warning he hoisted you to your feet next to the edge of the bed. And you reached out for his shoulders as he slipped his boxers down his legs. Inching himself back up to the headboard. 

"Take a seat." He gestures, laying back. 

He's got a hand around your waist in seconds. His cock soon just below you, so so close to where you wanted it. Where you needed it so badly. 

Your knees came down on both sides of him, carefully administering your weight evenly until every inch of his hot cock was stretching you open. His tip soon resting firmly against your cervix like it always did and you both relinquished a sweet gasp. 

"F-fuck.. so full.." You huffed 

It felt like it had been so long when in reality it'd probably only been a week. And yet you were moaning like you'd been starved of him. Rocking your hips like he'd punished you with no cock for months. 

Suddenly his arm wrapped itself around your waist again. He hoisted you up with a strong hold moaning directly in your ear as he thrusted up into you like it was the first time. His knees pressing your thighs open.

A hiss falling off your lips as he kissed over your shoulder and collar. Hands squeezing both your breasts like they were his personal stress balls. 

You hadn't been aware of how hard Armin was going until the rough knocks of the bed hitting the walls finally began to settle in your ear. But you could barely care Armin's cock was hitting every spot inside of you and your leg was starting to twitch where it was forced outward. 

His breath grew more ragged with every thrust. Sweat dripping off your forehead onto his. His sweet murmurs of praise turning you on even harder.

"Love, you take me so well.. You're doing so amazing…." He moaned 

You leaned your head into him, feeling that sweet familiarity deep in the pit of your stomach. You reached around to the back of his head, yanking a little rougher than intended on his scalp. 

The uneven slaps of your skin meeting managed to keep the two of you distracted  until the sound of the door practically slamming into the wall shook you both to a halt. 

Levi's dry sigh filled the once noisy bedroom. "Do you two have to make so much noise? I'm busy with a work project." 

Despite Levi's gripes Armin angled his cock back towards your g-spot barely grazing it but it was enough to force a little mewl from your lips. 

He laughed, pulling you a little closer. "Mm sorry Levi. Didn't know we were being so loud." 

There was a small glint in Levi's eyes. The quick dart of his pupils to where you and Armin were joined and then back up to your face putting a devious grin on your face. 

"You should take a break, daddy." You said 

"Tch." Levi huffed, "This thing needs to be done by tomorrow. I don't have time for this." 

You reached out for him with one arm. An arm that unsurprisingly didn't even reach close to him from his stance near the bedroom door. By this point Armin's thrusts were going at almost the same pace as before. Not as rough but enough to resume the gentle rock of the bed. 

You let out a soft moan as Levi took the bait, slowly walking over to the bed. His finger carding affectionately through your tousled hair. He leaned in, pecking your kiss swollen lips. 

If there was anything you knew for a fact about Levi it was that he always had a hard time saying no to you. 

To be completely honest it didn't surprise you that Levi was already more than a little hard. Though it did surprise you how easily he gave in today. Watching with unchanged expression as you pulled his belt from the loops and buckle, undoing it with a light clatter which quickly followed the almost inaudible sound of his zipper being pulled down.. 

You let out a relaxed hum, lip pressed between your teeth at the sight before you. His thick cock poking out over the hem of his underwear. You grasped at the sheets with one hand a little shaky as you slipped his boxers down over his ass until they pooled at his ankles. 

Armin slipped his hand under you right up against your stomach. Levi immediately followed suit already knowing what he was doing. He stepped over to the edge of the bed as Armin laid you down on your stomach. Levi's wet tip dangling in front of your lips. Before you could even register it Armin had your hips in the air slipping all the way back inside with a loud gasp. 

Meanwhile you were wetting your lips. Hand curving up and down the length of his dick. You inched forward on your elbows to slowly surround Levi's dick in the warm confines of your mouth. The hiss he let out sending shivers over your spine.

"How's it feel? I know how much you love taking two dicks." Levi grunted 

Armin reached forward, tugging your hips in close with one hand. The other hand on your ass as leverage. Allowing him to ease out to his tip before slamming back inside. Your eyes rolling back with pleasure. 

As if it wasn't already difficult enough to take Levi he wasn't even fully hard yet. Just expanding in your mouth as you coaxed your throat into relaxing enough to slide every thick inch down. 

"I know that pretty mouth can do so much better than this." He reaches out with zero warning to grab a fist full of your hair. Yanking you forward with barely any restraint. 

Though you must admit the sound that leaves his throat when he does is almost worth the tears pricking over your hollowed cheeks. 

"Baby I'm so fucking close.. I'm gonna fill your pussy." Armin sighs, his hand comes down to wrap around the base of your throat angling your mouth into Levi's rough thrusts. 

Your heart is hammering but you close your mouth as best as possible without biting to take Levi's cock. Already feeling the effects on your jaw as he presses in a little harder with a deep moan. 

By now his cock is fully hard rocking you back into Armin with deep rough thrusts that almost make you gag. 

"That's my g-irl.." Levi grunts, even though they're small his nails dig into your scalp so roughly you could swear you felt something trickling down to the back of your neck. 

You grip the bed sheets with both your toes and fingers, the creaking around you unmistakable. 

"I'm cumming.. I'm cumming!" Armin cries out and you'd honestly give anything to see his gorgeous blue eyes roll back and the little smile that curves against his lips as he climaxes. 

You finish just a couple seconds ahead of him. Eyes unfocused where they roll into shut. Little sounds muffled by the thick dick stretching open your throat. The feeling of Armin's cum flooding your walls makes you whimper and he lets out the softest moan as his orgasm slowly whittles away. 

Your gaze soon fixes on Levi only to be met with the prettiest tint of pink brushed right up against his cheeks. His eyes pressed tightly closed, lips parted over every harsh breath. 

It didn't take long for the sweet drag of Armin's cock to begin again. His light touches to your spine making you arch a little higher. 

"You look so fucking pretty, you know that?" Armin mummered, cock slamming into your g-spot. "Doesn't she look gorgeous, Levi?" He asked with a little whimper. 

Levi's eyes fluttered open a hint of a smirk cresting on his lips. "Like she's gonna.. pass out.." He combed your hair back again gripping it a little tighter forcing your head up. He paused at the back of your throat. "Can't take it baby? Want me to pull out?" 

You grunted at every slam of Levi's dick until that all too familiar sound flooded your ears, followed by almost every curse in the english language. 

"You're doing so well.. f-uck.." He moaned "Swallow my cum.. swallow it. I'm almost there.." 

Levi hoisted his leg up against the already shaky foot of the bed using as much leverage as possible. His fingers tugging your head forward on every pump of his thick cock. Mixing with the loud gasps of Armin behind you as he also neared his end. 

And with one more deep thrust Levi was spilling down your throat with a choked groan. Cock head nestled deep in your tired throat holding you still as his orgasm flooded from his body. 

You were a little relieved when he stepped back allowing your jaw to relax. The still wet tip pressing sweetly against your lips. 

"Such a pretty girl.." He said, so low you thought you imagined it. 

"Switch with me." You heard Armin say 

You sighed as his cock left you, feeling yourself immediately being flipped onto your back. His large hands coming down from where he now stood over you to perfectly envelop your breasts. Meanwhile Levi was pulling your hips close and sliding in as effortlessly as he always did. 

"Levi!" You threw your head back 

Armin smirked over you, his hands kneading a little rougher. You arched into his touch pressing the balls of your heels into Levi's back, pushing him just a little deeper- 

God it was perfect. The feeling of his dick so much different from Armin's but honestly just as perfect. The moan you let out was downright pornographic and you pressed your head back into Armin's thigh. 

One of Armin's hands came up to your face brushing aside your hair soaked in tears. "You look perfect. But I wanna make you more perfect." 

He pulled himself off the bed, sliding a hand over your cheek. "I wanna paint your face baby. It's so perfect.." He mumbled already pumping his long dick over your face. "You'll let me right.." He whimpered 

When he leaned in again it was to press a little kiss to your lips. "P-please.." 

The curve of his lips made your heart flutter in your chest. "Mm.. let Levi see when I'm finished." 

One of Armin's hands sat rather aggressively on the edge of the bed. And you could see the way every vein in his hand moved. Grip tightening a little with every pump of his cock, back and forth his knuckles practically ripping through his skin. 

You gasped as Levi leaned over you, fat cock pressing into your G-spot. "Stop ignoring me." He grunted 

He slid his teeth beneath your earlobe administering a barrage of sweet nibbles mixed with more aggravated bites. 

"Levi.. Levi!!" 

Armin gasped above you, "Almost there.." He moaned 

A bright white was starting to take over your vision as you shut your eyes, mouth hung open for Armin's cock with absolutely no sound coming out as Levi continued to use your tired pussy. 

Small huffs of fuck littering the air. You bore your nails into Levi's back and chest. His leg shaking against you as he pushed through his last thrusts. 

"I-I'm.. I- shit!" Armin came first, missing Levi's head by a hair (literally) as ropes of hot cum plopped onto your face, you barely registering it as your own orgasm hit you like a two ton truck. Levi's thumb coaxing small spasms from you through your clit. 

Levi huffed, face scrunched, lip bitten and eyes shut as he came for the second time with a hard gasp. 

The room went quiet for what couldn't have been any longer than 2 minutes before Armin was pulling himself up from where he'd slumped over the bed. 

"Levi, look how sexy she looks with my cum all over her face." He cooed 

It stuck to your eyelids as you blinked though ultimately chose to keep your eyes shut. You felt Levi's small chuckle and the brief feeling of him slipping out of you to your own disappointment.

"Open baby." Armin said 

As soon as you did his fingers slipped into your mouth. The salty/sweet residue of his cum littering your tongue. Quickly joined by Levi who swiped his thumb across your eyelids before pressing it into your mouth. 

"How're you feeling?" Armin asked as you opened your eyes slowly. 

You blinked in their faces standing above you with a small smile. "Tired." 

"You can't sleep until you've washed off. It'll be better for you anyway." Levi replied, heading into the bathroom. 

Armin quickly followed after carefully lifting your fatigued body off the bed. It took a couple minutes for Levi to get the temperature to perfect but once he did you slowly felt yourself sinking into perfectly warm water. 

The soreness in every part of your body already beginning to dissipate as you leaned back against the edge of the tub. 

"We did a number on you hmm?" Armin asked, carding your hair back. 

"I'll make you some tea once you're cleaned up. Then we can cuddle under your favorite blanket." Levi said 

"Thank you guys but I feel like I could fall asleep here." You say lifting your thighs for Levi to clean under. 

"I promise I'll pay you back big time tomorrow." Armin replied, rubbing your arm with soap. 

Your lips curled up deviously, "Now that I look forward to." You grab his chin pulling him into you, pecking his lips.