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#i could draw em facing in more directions but. i don’t wanna.
frayedcircus · 1 year
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doodle dump featuring…. a guy in a weird hat
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bupbupsippycup · 10 months
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The End of Old Fuse | Tales from the Outlands
Gibraltar and Mirage are fighting for their lives as they find themselves in the middle of a Prowler Den. Gibraltar guns down a pursuing Prowler with his Mozambique Shotgun, spins around to help Mirage and sees the Prowler scratch Mirage’s leg as he tries to escape, leaving a large, bleeding gash. Gibraltar tries to shoot the Prowler chasing Mirage, but the shotgun shells do very little at this distance. Mirage activates his army of holographic duplicates, which all run in opposite directions, but the Prowler easily tracks the scent of his blood, locks him in its jaws, and rips him to pieces in mere seconds.
GIBRALTAR: No! Damn it, I’m sorry, brother!
Gibraltar looks, disgusted, at the Prowler feasting on Mirage’s remains, and then becomes truly enraged. Gibraltar roars at the Prowler with such ferocity that for a moment, the Prowler takes off at a run, never having heard another noise quite so terrifying. Gibraltar had closed the distance between them as if there was none. Gibraltar had the Prowler backed up, shaking, against a cave wall. He drew his War Axe and proceeded to hack the Prowler apart with all of his might. Breathing heavily, Gibraltar drops to his knees in a corner of the cave. He looks from the Prowler’s corpse to Mirage’s, and is beset by tears.
He looks up to see Mad Maggie, who has been sitting on a taller ledge, nursing a flask. Gibraltar notices that she is looking down, at Fuse’s torn body.
MAD MAGGIE: I told him this would happen sooner or later. He should’a stayed with me on Salvo. We were goin’ to make somethin’ of ourselves!
As she speaks, her voice begins to crack, and she eventually breaks out into tears of fury and anguish.
MAD MAGGIE: Why the hell’d you do it, Walter?! Ya didn’t have to get yerself killed, ya damned idiot! What am I supposed to do? Who am I supposed to fight for? What reason do I have to keep going? God damn you, Walter! God damn you!
Mad Maggie draws her Wingman Pistol and aims it at Gibraltar,
Gibraltar draws his Mozambique and aims it up at Mad Maggie
GIBRALTAR: I don’t wanna do this Maggie. I didn’t mean to kill Walter; I was just defending myself.
Mad Maggie stares hatefully into Gibraltar’s eyes, wondering if both of their deaths would make any positive impact in the universe.
She slowly lets down her weapon.
MAD MAGGIE: … Oh, God. You’re right. If it wasn’t you, It’d be someone else…
She sighs, looking immensely distressed.
MAD MAGGIE: This fucking blood-sport. We’re not ever going to escape this, are we?
Gibraltar lowers his weapon and sits down on the rock surface.
GIBRALTAR: I’m so sorry, Maggie. I wish I could help you.
The Dropship soars overhead, thousands of feet in the air, its engines droning, causing the ground to tremble as it goes. They both look up at it, suddenly inspired. They take off running after it.
MAD MAGGIE: How many of those M.R.V.N.s do they have guarding the Pilot up there?
GIBRALTAR: only six, but they’re heavily armored. I think it would take more than 5 of us to disable one of them. And we can’t bring weapons into the ship.
MAD MAGGIE: But what if we got everyone on the ship to fight at once? I know it’ll be difficult to convince ‘em to work together, but I bet if we say we’d help ‘em escape, we could break through to the cockpit, and take control of the ship!
GIBRALTAR: But would we be able to take it outside the Arena?
MAD MAGGIE: I don’t know. I’m hopin’ I can access the navigation. We’ll figure it out when we get there.
GIBRALTAR: Alright, but we gotta hurry! It’s starting to lower for the Revival Beacon there!
At the Revival Beacon, Loba is working its screen, while Pathfinder jumps down from the Dropship. As he falls, Mad Maggie quickly installs her Riot Drill into the Beacon, which spews flame out onto the other side, severely burning Loba’s face and left hand. She screams in pain, and falls backward into a deep trench that encircles the Beacon, then attempts to take off her Jump Drive Bracelet, but the fire causes her skin to stick to the metal, and she winces as she runs her fingers over the scorches on her wrist. Mad Maggie jumps down and kicks her over. Loba tosses an Arc Star, which sticks to the trench wall and electrocutes Mad Maggie. She roars as she tries to escape its radius, ignoring the excruciatingly painful energy coursing through her. Loba readies her Longbow DMR, fires at Mad Maggie, and it pierces through her shoulder. when suddenly, Loba is gut-shot by Gibraltar. She looks at her wound, horrified, then falls to the ground, and her soul departs without ever knowing the face of her killer.
Gibraltar runs over to Mad Maggie, who has collapsed on the ground now that the Arc Star has finally worn out.
GIBRALTAR: Oh, Maggie!
Gibraltar takes out some bandages and patches up her Mad Maggie’s shoulder. Then, he prepares a syringe, locates a vein, and injects her with Morphine. Her brows loosen, and her eyes slowly shut.
GIBRALTAR: Hey, come on, Maggie. Gotta stay awake.
Gibraltar tries to lightly shake her back to consciousness, to no avail. He holds his breath, suddenly tense. He’s just heard a noise behind him. He turns to look up at the top of the trench wall, as Pathfinder slowly peers over the edge. Gibraltar carefully climbs up the wall and takes out his War Axe. He vaults up, and plants the Axe firmly in Pathfinder’s metal shoulder-piece, cutting off the circuitry to his left arm. Pathfinder politely replies,
PATHFINDER: You killed my buddy. Now you must die.
Pathfinder fires his Grapple Gun, which lodges itself inside Gibraltar’s leg and pulls him and Pathfinder together at dangerous speed. Gibraltar yells in pain, but just as he is about to be hit by Pathfinder, Gibraltar swings his Axe through the bulk of Pathfinder’s steel torso. Gibraltar rips Pathfinder’s remaining arm off and leaves the rest of him to short-circuit into oblivion. Gibraltar picks up the barely conscious Mad Maggie in one arm and fires the Grappling Launcher on Pathfinder’s severed limb with the other. The Grapple attaches to the inner ceiling of the Dropship, and its mechanism swiftly propels them both upward. Mad Maggie wakes up as they fly towards the Dropship, and panics. She nearly slips free of his arm, but he readjusts his grip. The two of them feel a glimmer of hope now, which will be necessary for what lies ahead.
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(skate rat) kawanishi taichi x fem!reader | w.c 3.5k
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a/n: SURPRISE it’s a sequel to mouth <3 my original skate rat sin i suppose, and also like my first real fic/drab for the fandom. god bless. as always thank u to @bakatenshii​ + @sugardaddykenma​ for putting up with me ranting about this fic (and also putting up with me since mouth)
big big thanku to #1 wife @pomsuki​ for reading this for me and yelling at me to finish this damn thing <3
18+ university age | pls read ALL warnings
warnings: drugs, public sex, dub/noncon exhibitionism, degredation, humiliation, dubcon, blood, slight injury (it’s a bloody nose), toxic behavior, misogynistic energy? vibes? you’ll know when u see it honestly
reading mouth isn’t necessary but it is appreciated! and pls check out melt + nightingale syndrome for they exist in the same skate rat universe (+ they’re delicious fics) also the people who wrote em r BIG SEXY
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There were more than enough reasons to quit Kunimi Akira. He never texts back, he doesn’t go to class, he’s fucked a few of your friends and he couldn’t commit if you paid him. He was simply a waste of time, it was like every second spent with him was another mark ticked off a test, a percentile lowering on your next paper.
But chucking Kunimi would be like trying to sort grains of rice, difficult and damn near impossible. He always knew how to draw you back in and he enjoyed the mind games a lot more than his bored expression would let on. 
Despite the impossibility of quitting him you had to at least try, so you swore up and down that hooking up with him at Oikawa’s party some odd months ago was truly the last of it, that you were done with him and all of his irritating skate rat friends.
Which begs the question of how you ended up at the little concrete amphitheater on campus, sandwiched between Hanamaki and Matsukawa on one of the steps, a blunt being passed between the two of them without so much as a second glance towards you.
“Say, when’s the last time you and Kunimi had fun?” Makki’s grin is nothing short of lascivious, a slimy feeling weighs on your tongue as you shrug off a shudder.
“Say, was that ever any of your business?” You retort, snatching the blunt from his lips bringing it to your own and inhaling deeply, revelling at the warmth creeping down your throat and filling your chest. 
“Quit it Makki, she’s not gonna fuck you. Kunimi got her ‘round his little finger,” Mattsun coos, taking back the blunt, “besides, heard she’s a fuckin ice queen in the sack. Boooring.”
A sharp inhale keeps you grounded, the sound of Iwaizumi’s board slamming back down onto the pavement reminding you where you are, who you’re with. You’re not going to fall for Mattsun’s little games too.
“Tch.” Daggers prick at your lips, but you bite your tongue knowing that fueling the fire will earn you nothing but a headache. It’s not like you’re waiting for anything, or anyone, stealing a few more hits and leaving would be the best option.
“Oh? Nothing to say? But I heard your mouth was your only redeeming quality.” You focus your gaze on Iwaizumi telling Oikawa to stay out of his way, trying not to let your growing discomfort scare you away. The stubborn refusal of letting Mattsun’s words win only letting a dull ache grow at the base of your skull, prickling further when he and Makki let out low mocking laughs.
“Hey fucknuts!” Your head whips over to see a blur of crimson race by, followed gradually by a few other familiar faces you’ve seen around at parties and on campus.
“God, not these assholes.” Makki laughs as Oikawa makes faces at one of the newcomers. Your eyes drag across the unfolding scene as the number of rowdy idiots grows. You swallow hard, knowing that staying any longer would only cause your headache to further bloom.
“That’s my cue to leave.” You sigh, it’s not like you were waiting for Kunimi in the first place. You weren’t. You were just...killing time.
“Leaving?” Your head tips back to look up at the source of the question, Kawanishi Taichi, of course. 
“Yeah, dunno why I’m here in the first place.” You brush off his quirked brow and shove Mattsun hard with your shoulder as you stand up. With a curt nod, you smooth a hand over your jeans, turning on your heel to brush past Kawanishi, ignoring the low whistle that falls from his lips. You make it a good distance down the walkway before the sound of crunching footsteps behind you prickles at your ears as you ready yourself to tell whoever it is to get lost. 
“Want a ride?” You let out a huff as you look over your shoulder to see Kawanishi standing so nonchalantly, hands tucked into his pockets as he chews on a toothpick.
“Shouldn’t you be skating around with your little boyfriends?” The comment slips out, followed by your tongue sliding over your bottom lip as if it’ll soften the sharpness of your tone. 
“Nah, just droppin 'em off,” his eyes rake up and down your figure as you turn to face him, “where’s yours?”
“My what?”
“Your little boyfriend. You were waiting there like a lost puppy for him.” A protest rises in your chest, curbing it when you see a flash of something akin to flirtatious teasing in his normally passive eyes. 
“I... I don’t have one.” The words are slathered in honey, punctuated with a flutter of your lashes as Kawanishi takes another step forward. 
If Kunimi likes playing all those stupid games, why not play a few of your own?
“Is that so?” His head tilts slightly, you feign shyness, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you smile sweetly at him, confirming your statement with a nod of your head. “My car’s just over in the parking lot.” He tips his head in the direction of the closest lot, before turning to start walking. Without hesitation you easily fall into step beside him, trying to dampen your rising nerves.
Despite the dumb little hookups peppering your dating history, you had only gone so far with most of them, Kunimi being one of the few —and the only one you crawled back to— that you had made the unfortunate pleasure of going all the way with. You keep pushing away at the thoughts of inexperience as Kawanishi approaches an old, beat up, black Corolla, the paint flaking off with dings and dents littering across the body, the impeccably shiny rims on the wheels making you snort. 
It was a rather famous car across campus, seeing it around with stupid skate rats crammed in there with the windows fogged with smoke was an almost daily occurrence, especially highlighted by how it’s tied to one too many stories of girls having varying encounters with Kawanishi –and sometimes one of his friends– in said car.
“Wanna smoke or skip to the real fun?” He never minced any words, always up front or just completely skipping out on the conversation. It always made him the best project partner in the odd classes you’ve shared over your uni years.
“I don’t like waiting.” The fuzziness nipping at your spine from the few hits you took earlier were just enough, not wanting to dull your senses completely during this encounter. The bluntness of your answer causes a smirk to play at Kawanishi’s lips as he opens the door to the back.
“Well then, ladies first.” He gestures to the gray cloth seats, you make a point to ignore the questionable stains littered across it as you slide in, trying to focus instead on figuring out the heady scent permeating through the car. Cheap cologne, cigarettes, weed and maybe stale beer, and something that was distinctly him. 
Your eyes are drawn to a stain on the roof that looks oddly similar to an eagle, the thought unfinished as Kawanishi practically dives in after you. The sound of the door slamming preempting hands roaming over your body and lips moving against your neck. 
“Kawa-”
“Just Taichi.” He clips as he works the buttons of your jeans, a coarse hand working against your spine as he unhooks your bra.
“Eager much?” You laugh as he pushes at your shirt and bra exposing pert nipples to cool air, simultaneously managing to work your jeans past your hips and down your thighs.
“You said no waiting.” With a chaste kiss to your lips he’s maneuvering you onto your stomach, raising your hips in the air, face shoved halfway between the seat and door.  You let out a huff as your hand braces itself against the door, while the other on the seat below you, trying to find some semblance of comfort in the cramped setting.
“Mhm.” It’s the best reply you can manage as he grinds his clothed cock against the cleft of your ass, already hard. You can only imagine how many women he’s had in this situation to award all six feet and three inches of himself the ability to move so successfully around in the cramped backseat. 
Nimble and worn fingers circle around your hip, dipping down to tease at dampening lace, eliciting a soft moan from you. You push back against him, delighting in the soft grunt he lets out as he curls himself over you to scrape his teeth over your nape. His fingers continue to run up and down against your clothed cunt, pressing at the growing slick spot marking your wanting hole.
“Excited huh?” He mumbles as he skims his tongue against the shell of your ear, you manage a low hum in reply as he slides his hands back up, tugging down the flimsy piece of clothing, exposing your needy cunt to hungry eyes. He wastes no time pressing his fingers against your twitching hole, causing you to wiggle your hips just enough to earn a low chuckle and send the message of just how much you want him, need him. 
Without any further hesitation he slips in a finger, your back arching with the realization his fingers are longer than Kunimi’s, chest burning at the fact you could even think of another man in this situation. As if he can sense your wandering thoughts Taichi works in another finger, another following quickly after. There’s no urgency in his movements, each twist and thrust of his fingers methodical, curling in just the right way, making sure to brush his thumb over your throbbing clit to send a stinging pleasure up your spine. 
You can’t deny the way he’s taking you apart so sweetly, the tightening deep in your belly achingly sweet, as he starts to thrust his fingers even deeper, tiny gasps and whines starting to grow louder and louder as you careen towards bliss. With a particularly rough curl of his fingers you feel yourself come undone completely, punctuated by a shameless moan.
The sound of knuckles tapping against the fogged glass pulls you out of your blissful haze, still acutely aware of the way Taichi has his fingers lazily twisting inside of you. 
“It’s open.” He tugs you back by the hips slightly as he retracts his fingers painfully slow, listening as he unzips his jeans. Your heart races as the passenger door opens, shifting uncomfortably to try to catch a glimpse of who’s slid into the car.
“Oh, so that’s where you went, Mattsun said you were hanging around.” Your blood runs cold, your state of undress tightening your chest as you become painfully aware of the situation you’re in. The passive tone of Kunimi’s voice nips at your skin, tears away at the search of mindless fun that you had tried to pursue with Taichi, filling your chest with raw embarrassment.
“What do you want?” The tear of a wrapper following the question, whatever protest you had silenced by a hand coming down to grip harshly at your ass.
“You have my grinder.” Kunimi slips into the passenger seat, the sound of the glove box popping open making your eyes squeeze shut. 
“Yeah well close the door at least.” Your eyes widen at Taichi’s statement, you didn’t want Kunimi to just close the door, you wanted him to leave.
“Whatever. Can I smoke in here?” It doesn’t sound like much of a question, more of a declaration with the ‘can’ and the question mark tacked on for decoration.
“I don’t care, do you?” You crane your head just enough to catch the blasé expression on Taichi’s face, a quirked brow directed more at your ass than you.
“Yeah sweetheart, care if I’m in here while you’re whoring yourself out?” Kunimi scoffs, the irritated tinge to his bored tone making you furrow your brows.
“Oh fuck you.” You start to rise on your elbows, only for Taichi’s hand to land between your shoulder blades, keeping you from moving any further. You let out a huff as Kunimi clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment.
“Sorry babe, it’s me who’s fucking you this time around, maybe Kunimi can get the next round.” Before you can even bother with a retort, Taichi drags the head of his cock against slick folds, teasing at your entrance. You let your head hang down, the click of a lighter grating on your nerves more than you would like to admit. 
“Please, fuck me, I want it so bad.” The whininess of your voice annoys even you, but if Kunimi wants to stick around and get on your nerves, then two could play that game. 
“Since you asked so nicely.” Just like before he slides in slowly, carefully, as if to make you memorize what each inch of him feels like splitting you apart so sweetly.
“Shit.” You exhale shakily as you try to adjust to him, it had been months since you last fucked anyone, since you last fucked the asshole sitting passenger.
He sets a leisurely pace, steady and infuriating. There’s a hand clamped down on your hip, fingers digging in painfully to keep you in place, to establish that he’s the one calling all the shots. You huff, still trying to buck your hips to meet his thrusts. There’s something in his actions that makes you feel greedy, desperate for so much more than he’s offering.
There’s no way around it, you’re completely at his mercy, left taking the shallow, slow thrusts that only makes the desperate ache deep in your cunt grow.
“Hook a finger or two in her mouth.” There’s a pause in Taichi’s motions, letting you finally take a deep breath of the thick weed laced air. “Don’t look at me funny, do it and see what happens.”
You hear a non-committal hum as those devilishly nimble fingers skim past your jaw, a whimper preceding his index pushing past your lips with a harsh tug at the corner of your mouth, the painful stretch of your cheek causing you to clench down on his length.
“Oh? You were right.”
“She’s already broken in,” Kunimi takes a long drag of the joint hanging in his fingers, “no point in holding back.” 
It’s as if a flip is switched in Taichi, the statement becoming an immediate challenge as he hooks in another finger beside the other, yanking harshly as the snap of his hips becomes almost painful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the car, swirling with the heady smoke defiling the air. 
“W-Wait Taichi.” The words are garbled around his fingers, and you’re quickly dismissed as he snakes around his other hand to hook his middle and index on the other corner of your mouth, the stretch in your lips burning as he shifts from the quick paced thrusts to deep, hard strokes.
His only reply is to tug harshly on your mouth as pathetic whines and distored words spill from you. 
You can feel yourself start to shake almost violently, still reeling from your earlier orgasm and suffering at the hands of Taichi’s now vicious pace. Each thrust pushing you into madness, each tug of his fingers bringing you back. 
“Fuck, fuck.” He curls over you again, sloppily running his tongue up your nape. “You wanna cum?” 
“Mhmm,” you yelp at a particularly rough slam of his hips, “please.”
He grunts, moving a hand to grip at the back of your head while keeping his other hand planted on your hip, fingers biting into your hip. There’s no warning as he grinds into you, the hold on your hip finally relenting as he slides his digits back down to pinch at your throbbing clit, the bit of pressure sending you careening over the edge.
“T-Taichi.” Pleasure wracks through your body, your legs tremble violently as you try to move your hand on the door, shoulder aching from holding yourself in place. The second your hand moves, you give into the force of Taichi’s hand on the back of your head, forcing you to slam face first into the door, the impact making your nose sting, blood immediately starting to gush, running down your face and chin. 
You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as he continues his assault, the once careful, methodical thrusts turning desperate and depraved as he moves with reckless abandon. His teeth drag across your shoulder, before pulling out completely.
“Don’t need this.” You grip at your nose, trying to ignore the disgusting feeling of blood seeping onto your fingers, looking over your shoulder again to see Taichi pull off the condom. You can’t even protest with the way you’re bleeding profusely, pinching at your bridge at a poor attempt of stopping the bleeding.
“Stay still.” In one swift movement he’s plunging back into you, bottoming out immediately, a muffled yell falls from your lips, arching your back as he drives into you with just a few more hard thrusts you feel his seed spill inside you. 
For a moment you two stay suspended, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix, making you groan in a twisted sense of pleasure of pain. He pulls out painfully slow, delivering another harsh slap your ass as he sits back.
“Oh, sorry ‘bout your nose.” He helps you flip onto your back, swiping his thumb over the blood trickling onto your lip before shucking off his t-shirt and handing it to you. “Don’t have any tissues.” 
“So who’d you like playing fuck toy for better?” For a split second, somewhere between the back breaking orgasm and your nose being slammed into the door, you had blissfully forgotten that Kunimi was still in the car, but now that perfect illusion just had to be shattered.
“Must you be such a dick all the time?” You manage to pull your jeans back up, hissing at the stinging pain in your hips and lower back, ignoring the lewd feeling of Taichi’s cum starting to leak from your abused cunt. 
Beside you Taichi manages to tuck himself back into his pants, reaching under the driver's seat to yank out a hoodie reeking of weed and cigarettes.
“Maybe you two should just get together already.” Taichi lets out a low chuckle as he pulls on the hoodie, getting out of the backseat, slamming the door hard before throwing the driver’s door open. You don’t even bother trying to hook your bra back on as you pull your shirt down, letting yourself slump back down and lay across the backseat as you reach up to check if your nose is still bleeding.
“Like hell.” Kunimi twists around in the passenger seat, looking down at you with an amused smirk, offering the freshly rolled joint to you. “You look like shit. I said she was broken in, not to break her more.” He only gets a wry laugh from Taichi as he starts the car.
“Thanks, right back at you.” You sit up just enough, looking at Kunimi expectantly. He shakes his head before twisting the joint in his fingers and placing it between your lips, producing the lighter. Just as he’s about to hand it to you he brings his hand back a bit, grabbing your jaw with his other as he lights the joint. He picks up Taichi’s bloodied shirt, pouring water from a twisted plastic bottle onto it before passing it back to you.
“Cute, blew her back out and you’re doting on her.” You watch as Kunimi moves to sit back in his seat, not even bothering to spare you a second glance as he shrugs. You dab away at the drying blood on your face, ignoring a few of the splotches that landed on the joint.
“Guess I play favorites, drop us off at my place.” 
“Us?” You exhale after a long drag, narrowing your eyes at the back of Kunimi’s head as Taichi pulls out of the parking spot.
“What do I even get out of doing that?” You can’t help but nod in agreement of Taichi’s statement, feeling yourself growing annoyed at the way they seem to ignore your entire presence.
“You can fuck her again.” Kunimi offers and you almost drop the joint as your jaw falls open at the absolute nerve of the man. 
“Excuse me? I’m right here?” The way that neither of them even flinch at your statement, let alone acknowledge it makes you slump back into the seat, begrudgingly accepting the fact whatever you say isn’t worth shit to either of them.
“Hm.” It doesn’t sound like he’s actually considering the offer, but the quick look over his shoulder as he turns out of the parking lot sends a chill down your spine and your stomach to twist.
“Believe it or not, her mouth’s her one redeeming quality.” The two of them snicker, like two old pals sharing an inside joke.
“Shut the fuck up.” You’re brushed off once again as they toss back a few more comments before Taichi stops at a red light, looking over at Kunimi, then back at you and finally back towards the road.
“Yeah alright.”
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party-gilmore · 3 years
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...well, I managed to get to literally JUST BARELY before the actual smut starts, so please enjoy this unbetaed 2k word teaser prologue of "demi/grayace Parker doesn't feel like she's Enough for Eliot without Hardison around, so he sets the record straight."
Set during The Hurricane Job, because who gives a damn if the ep is even OUT yet, am i right? XD
“Room 236.”
“What was that?” Eliot hums. His voice is muffled beneath the heavy, sopping weight of his jacket as he tugs the damn thing over his head. His shirt peels off right along with it, so he just shucks the whole shebang in the generic direction of his luggage. He’ll have plenty of time to see to it properly tomorrow - the storm will have them trapped at least another day. With a groan, he stretches out his bad shoulder. It’s not quite dislocated again, but it’s not quite right either. Two nimble hands sneak up from behind and flit their way over the shoulder blade, one bracing against the wet neck of his white tank top while the other presses swift and hard on the joint - and ‘pop’ goes the weasel.
Eliot flashes Parker a pained but soft smile through the old dresser mirror, but it falters when he catches her eyes peeking over his shoulder. There’s a look in them he isn’t familiar with, but doesn’t think he likes.
“Park-” he starts to turn around, but she manhandles him back away from her and shoves her hand into the back pocket of his jeans. No small feat tonight, they way the rain has soaked and damn near suction cupped them to his ass. “H-hey, woah, alright there darlin’, slow it down a bit,’ he chuckles, reaching back to feel for her, but she’s already hopping back and flashing a small, colorful rectangle at him.
“Room 236,” she repeats, flipping it around her fingers like a coin. Eliot frowns. They’re in room 225, just down the hall. They’d found what the crooked cops were after with time to spare, so there was nowhere left to search. Why then, would he still have a room key for-
Oh. He reaches back and pats the offending rear pocket, flushing as he remembers Marshall Shipp’s parting flirtatious wink and accompanying gentle smack on the ass as they’d parted ways a half hour ago. He hasn’t exactly been… discouraging her interest. It's felt good that women are still interested in him even as he’s put a few more miles on, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention - especially from someone as 'his type' as Maria.
Well, what used to be his type, at least.
He shoots a sheepish, apologetic grin at Parker. Maria’s ‘interest’ was quickly becoming ‘intent,’ and now Eliot needed to find a way to nip that in the bud sooner rather than later.
“Damn, I should’ve noticed the reverse lift,” Eliot clears his throat, toying with the edge of the pocket absentmindedly. “She must’ve slipped it to me after we completed the radio broadcast. I was uh, distracted by our success I guess.”
“Bet that’s not all she’d like to slip you,” Parker’s voice takes on a bit more of a playful tone for a moment. Cheeky, teasing. It feels like solid ground.
“Hey now,” Eliot teases back, starting to undo his belt, slow and deliberate, as he begins toeing out of his boots. “I can’t help that I still ‘got it,’ darlin’. I can think of a couple folks I know offhand that might like to, uh… 'slip me a little something' right now, 'specially since I'm properly alone with one of 'em for the first time since-” The only problem is, he forgot how damn difficult these boots are to get off on a good day, let alone when soaked through with salt water. Swearing under his breath, he abandons his attempt at being suave to sit at the end of the bed and fumble with the ties. He should know better than try to look cool for either of his partners nowadays. It never works out quite right, and he’s starting to get to the age where he doesn’t even see the use of that kind of posturing anymore himself. They’ve seen him at his worst already - mentally, physically, emotionally - so what would be the point, really? On top of that, he may make a fuss about his ‘cool points’ in front of Breanna, but he knows Hardison’s sneaky ‘dorkification’ process he's been slowly contaminating Eliot with over the last decade is almost complete. He's still drawing the line at DnD, but he doubts that'll last much-
“...or, if you wanted, you could go let her slip it to you.”
Eliot is too caught up in his own head to really register the suggestion at first. He's busy ruminating on how differently his younger self would be handling this whole situation - all smooth moves and hot edges, shucking off clothing with a kind of casual grace.
‘Yeah, those days have long passed,’ he thinks, hunched over and fighting the waterlogged leather of his boots with fumbling, aching fingers. He gets the first one yanked off his foot less than gracefully, wincing at his ankle’s unsubtle protest, before what Parker said finally processes.
Slowly, he sets his singular boot the side and shifts enough to face her. Parker’s tone didn’t hold any bitterness or bite, just nervousness and a bit of resignation. She isn’t looking at him, but out the window, arms wrapped tight around her midsection in a way he hasn’t seen her do in a while. She bounces restlessly on her heels. There’s a clear energy inside her looking to get out. The thunder rumbles lowly through the suddenly silent room, murmuring a warning through the curling reverberation in Eliot’s gut.
He starts out gentle. Easy.
“...now why would I wanna go an’ do somethin’ like that?” Sometimes it’s easiest to bring things to Parker head on, and she’ll respond in her usual stark, frank manner. Just lay it all right out in the open to be picked apart. This isn’t one of those times. Eliot can read that much in every restless tap, every rapid twitch of her eyes to some place else in the room, any place that isn’t him.
“She’s your type, isn’t she?” Parker’s voice is a higher register than it should be, but not quite into her panicking zone yet. That’s a start. “She’s badass, sexy… passionate.”
Eliot notices her leaning heavy on that last word, and frowns.
“So are you, Parker.”
“Not in the same way!” She turns a bit, still looking outside, but her arms unwrap from herself to gesture between them. “Not the same way you and Hardison are!”
It’s quiet for another beat. The white noise of the hissing rain against the window settles into the room with a steady, thrumming tension. Eliot doesn’t jump to demanding clarification like he might’ve done a decade ago, doesn’t snap and tell her to stop beating around the bush. He’s learned that Parker tucks away all the information he needs to understand in every phrase, no matter how inane or incongruent it may seem. So Eliot holds his tongue and chews on the words for a while.
“Me and Hardison, huh?” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and rubs his jaw in a performance of pensiveness. The movement draws Parker's attention and she finally looks over to him, following the back and forth of his fingers. He presses on, carefully. “Thought we were talkin’ bout me and the marshall. What’s Alec got to do with this?”
“Because he isn’t here!” Parker breaks, not enough to falter or crumble but enough to say what's on her mind before she can overthink it. "He isn't here and it's different! I can feel it! I'm not-" she fumbles her words for a minute, just waving between them again. "-all passionate about the whole sex thing like he is!"
There's that word again. Eliot knows where to go from here, at least. It's all about that word. He stands up, albeit a little awkwardly with one foot still in an inch high boot.
"Sure it's fun and I like it sometimes, but not like you two do! Alec balanced me out, could give you what you needed! I'm not… by myself, I'm not enough for… for y-..." Parker cuts herself before she can grow any more manic, bunching her face up and looking away again like she does when trying to stave off any waterworks before they can start.
Eliot can see her closing up again as her words fail her, but that's alright. What needed to get out made it out. He can take it from here. He hobbles over in his awkward, single-socked gait until he's close enough to take her shoulders in hand, but he doesn't pull her in for the hug. Not yet.
"Now I want you to listen to me, and listen good." Eliot makes sure his tone is firm, but gentle. Parker responds the way he'd hoped - still not looking, tilting her head down, but leaning toward him. Into his space. Receptive, and ready to hear him. "Yeah, it feels different. That's cause you and me? Are different from me and Alec. We're always gonna be. 'That makes us, us,' remember? Just like that's different from you and Alec. It's all part of 'us,' yeah, but it's… we got our own thing, Parker. And sure, we might like it best when it's all three of us, just because we love him so, so much, yeah?"
He lifts one hand from her shoulder and tucks a bit of hair back behind her ear, giving her a chance to respond if she wants. Parker murmurs a quiet "yeah," and steps in a little closer. Eliot tugs her in the rest of the way now, assured that she's open to the touch. She pillows her chin on the shoulder she fixed, and Eliot lays a light kiss to the outside of her ear before continuing in a lower voice.
"So… we miss him, when he's not here, and we don't have the 'all three of us' thing right now. That doesn't make our thing, the you and me thing, any less good. It doesn't- Parker, you're so much more than just enough for me. You're who I need... especially when we don't have Hardison. Don't ever doubt that."
"I'll try," Parker turns her head and mutters it into the crook of Eliot's neck, and he loves her all the more for it. It's better than any empty promise of 'I won't,' because he knows the honesty of it. Knows it's not just an empty platitude of 'I'll do it,' but the vulnerable admission of 'I want to, but don't know if I can.'
"That's all I ask, darlin'."
Because it is. That's all Eliot ever asks of her. To try. Never demands that she change, never insists she should be thinking of herself differently or more kindly than she does. Just that she tries to.
"Now. About this whole 'passion' thing," Eliot sighs, pulling back so he can do that thing he does to Hardison that Parker loves to watch him squirm under, but likes it a lot less when it's turned on her. That thing where he ducks his neck and tilts his head and looks up at her through his hair with that serious, intimate look that makes her want to run because he for sure can see all of her secrets like this but also want to sink deep into that comforting gaze and never leave it. "I don't know where you got this idea that you're not passionate from, but-"
"Yeah, but it's not-!"
"The same?" Eliot cuts off her half-hearted attempt at argument. "Course it's not the 'same' as us, Parker! You aren't us. So, you… you don't lose yourself in it the same way me and Hardison do, okay? Him and me, how we get high off each other, the way we act... so you don't do that. That's fine! That’s only one type of passion, darlin'. You can't tell me,” he lets his hands skim down Parker’s arms until they meet her own palms. “That the way you focus so damn hard on taking us apart - taking me apart…”
Eliot brings Parker’s hands to his hips, and her fingers start to fidget with the hem of his shirt. Anchoring herself with the ribbed texture of the tank. Starting to explore up his stomach the way Eliot knows that Parker knows he likes. She’d ferreted that one out of him ages before they’d even thought up this whole ‘you and we makes three’ train. He lets his voice go a little breathy, a little raspy, makes sure she notices how she's affecting him. “-the way you always know exactly how to do it, piece by piece, single-mindedly pulling me apart like a damn puzzle, Park… you can’t tell me that ain’t some kind of passion.”
“Yeah, but that’s just the same way I steal stuff,” Parker giggles a little, the familiar flutter of Eliot’s sides under her deft fingers grounding her and soothing some of the unease. He’s right about this. How she knows what to do with him. How good she is at it. But that’s not anything special, it’s just-
“Exactly, Parker,” Eliot is trying to walk them back toward the bed, but it’s not really working out well. Between his having only the one boot on and Parker actively seeking out the ticklish bits of his belly that make his knees go all wobbly when she scrapes her nails down them, it’s comical enough to startle another giggle out of her. Or it’s a sob. Or it’s a hiccup. Or it’s some weird combination of all three, she isn’t really sure, but it doesn't seem to really matter either. The sound is whatever it was, just like she is whatever she is.
“It's just like that. Just like how you plan your next score. And that’s your Thing. Like me and food, Hardison and his nerdery... Do you realize how that makes me feel? Knowing you treat me like a heist? Like the thing that you let define you?”
“Yeah but that’s not a sex thing, it’s just a me thing.”
“It doesn’t matter that it’s not a sex thing, Parker, it’s your passion. Your Thing. Yours.” Eliot finally makes it back to the edge of the bed and drops, pulling Parker into his lap. He guides her wandering hands to his chest so she can feel the rumble in his voice as he growls.
“Darlin’, you treat me like damn masterpiece. Like I’m standing smack under a spotlight in the middle of the Louvre, and the only thing in the world that matters to you is how you’re gonna pick through my security piece by piece until all that’s left under your hands is a canvas stretched tight as it’ll go and a picture meant only for you and the people you choose to see it."
Parker’s nails scrape against the skin of Eliot’s collarbone as her fingers instinctively curl in, wanting to grip take steal hold climb, and he barely restrains himself from throwing his head back in a moan. He needs to make sure Parker’s in the right place first, before he gives himself over to his own wants.
“Wow,” she whispers, damn near reverent now as she looks down at him. There’s a dawning in her eyes that tells Eliot they’re alright. That they’re gonna be good. That it’s okay to pull her tighter and ask her to go ahead and steal him again tonight, since he knows her rigging is secure.
"I can't imagine anything more passionate than that."
“Uh-huh, ‘wow' is right,” he laughs breathlessly, and reaches up to take hold of her chin. It’s a light grip, barely any pressure where he between his thumb resting on the front and the rest of his fingers curling around under her jaw, but she lets Eliot guide her down until their lips touch. Not kissing, yet, just touching. His mouth moves against hers as he speaks, tongue briefly darting out to wet two pairs of parched lips. “-so tell me, why the fuck would I want to go to anyone else?”
“Maybe if you got some bad advice,” Parker murmurs, voice strong and confident again for the first time since they wrapped up the con. “From someone who didn’t realize she made you feel that way?”
“Hmmn, that could make sense,” Eliot hums back, resisting the urge to roll up against her in wet jeans that would only serve to chafe rather than provide any of the friction that having Parker in his lap always makes him crave. “If someone could help me get this damn boot off, maybe I could get to work making sure she’ll never forget it?”
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a different kind of song
(A/N: no one ever asked for this, but there isn't enough merman!Bucky/reader fics out there, lol. Also, her song is basically "Siren Song" by Margaret Atwood)
Warning- allusions to sexual assault. Do NOT read if that bothers you!
Summary: The sea swallowed her whole, and she was reborn with saltwater on her tongue and webs between her fingers.
🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊
She did not remember her life as a human. All she remembered was the war, and the hunger, and the men raiding her village. She remembered the sweat-soaked skin of a warrior snatching her up as she cried out for help. She felt the slide of his body, his blade against her throat. Then when he had finished, she remembered being thrown away into the deepest part of the sea, left to die. But she was blessed by the primordial sea god Phorcys, a child of Artemis, and was allowed to live again. Her new body was formed from misery and blood, and the reward for her suffering was eternal life with the chance to kill as many humans as she wished with no divine interference. The killing of human men, for men were the chosen victims of any siren. Women were not drawn in by their song, and if, by chance, a woman stumbled across a siren, that siren would leave her alone.
Slowly, she began to forget the trappings of humanity, the sound of her mother's voice, and the taste of human food. She aged with the world, hidden deep beneath the waves. Countless men fell prey to her beautiful song, and she learned how to kill quickly. She grew to love the taste of flesh, the sound of someone drowning. She forgot what it was like to be lonely. 
Now, she only knew starvation.
An all-encompassing hunger clawing at her belly made her whine with pain. Humans had avoided this part of the sea for a few years, and she last ate three months ago. She'd had to survive solely on fish, which, while technically food, were not filling nor even tasty. She was beginning to hate fish.
There were no boats; she checked three times in the past hour. It was dangerous for her to be so close to the surface because the air outside was toxic. There was also a very likely chance that she would be spotted by anyone who could harm her. But she was so hungry that she forgot herself. She floated just beneath the surface and sang, letting her voice ring out through the water, enticing any man into approaching. The setting sun shined down on the outcrop of rocks above her.
And there! A flash of something!
She sang louder, opening her eyes underwater. There was a man with darker hair than she had ever seen lying on a gigantic rock. He was acceptable, she guessed. She barely knew what that meant.
He had yet to notice her, dumb as he was. She could see her song was affecting him as his eyes started to close, and his hand inched unconsciously closer to the water. His finger just barely skimmed the surface before she lunged, yanking him into the sea with her. He began to fight back as she dragged him down to the sandy bottom. Thrashing against her hold, he scrabbled to gain purchase on her body, but to no avail. Her skin was as hard as stony coral and difficult to cut. She sang her trumph, mocking him as she brought him up to break the surface, only to bring him right back down.
But this man had a tail, and she did not realize it until it hit her in the face. She squawked in surprise, her song cutting off. The merman twisted out of her slackened grip. She snarled, baring her teeth as she swam at him. Sirens were stronger than mer, especially in deeper waters, so it did not take much to grab him again. They wrestled, flipping over each other. She sliced his side with one of her nails; his tail knocked the wind out of her. He pulled her lure too hard, and she made a pained sound, biting at his hand. He cried out as she ate clean through one of his webs. Blood leaked into the water, making her ravenous.
"This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible," she began, "The song that forces men to leap overboard in squadrons, even though they see the beached skulls!"
The merman ceased struggling. He stared at her, his eyes growing vast and dreamy. She grinned toothily. She had only had mer meat once before. It was harder to draw in mermen than human men, so because of that, she was only able to entice a single merman. But that was years ago, and he wasn't nearly as delicious to look at as this mer.
She dropped the tone of her voice to a seductive curl. "This is the song that nobody knows because anyone who has heard it is dead, and others can't remember. Shall I tell you a secret? And if I promise to, will you come nearer? I will tell my secret to you, to you, only to you. Come closer, closer to me."
She lifted her finger, tempting him to come over so that she could take a bite. The merman swam closer until their chests were pressed together. He said something in a language that she had never heard before.
"This song is a cry for help, my dear. Help me! Only you, only you can, for you are unique!" she cried sadly.
His tail curled around hers, and she frightened at the gentle touch broken out of her song. She spat and gnashed her teeth, but still, his tail stayed where it was. He opened his mouth and said something, but she still could not understand. She went to bite his nose off, but he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers so plainly that she stilled. She was not sure what was happening. She was not sure what she was supposed to be doing. She floated there, letting him mash his mouth against hers. His mouth tasted bizarre.
Finally, the merman stopped. He pulled away only minutely, still looking spellbound. Strange. Her song had ended. Why did he continue to look at her like that? He reached out and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. His own were darting back and forth across her face, searching for something. He spoke more things that she didn't understand.
"Uhh-h- hello," the merman said in a language she could understand. "Hi."
"Why were you crushing your mouth onto mine?" she asked.
"What, never heard of kissin' before?"
His smile was much too pleasant. That was unacceptable. Food was never supposed to look nice. She wanted to claw the smile right off of his face.
"Kissing?"
"Yeah, touchin' lips. Usually done as a sign of love or, you know, desire."
"Desire?"
"Sweet Thetis, you're fuckin' gorgeous," said the merman, ignoring her confusion.
His hand shot out to touch her lure, but he thought better of it and withdrew.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
His smile grew bigger, how funny: "Beautiful. Pretty."
"Pretty? What's that?"
"You know, like when you find a shiny thing, an' you wanna keep it forever?"
"I do not know," she grumbled (How dare this mer make her feel unintelligent!). "I have never had shiny things."
"Never had… Hold on, my pretty one."
Mystified, she waited just as he'd asked as he ruffled through a pouch that she had not noticed before. She had never seen anything like it and wondered where she could acquire one. Of course, she never had a reason to have a bag since she had no use for possessions. Perhaps it could hold weapons! Or bones to snack on!
"Ah-ha!" the merman said, thrusting something in her direction.
She stared at the thing in his hand.
"Looks even prettier underneath your lights," he said, avoiding her eyes.
"What is it?" she replied, her hand darting out nervously to touch it.
She pulled back almost instantly, but the merman grabbed her wrist.
"It's called gold," he explained, tipping it into her hands. "The humans use it to get other shiny things. D'you like it?"
"I am not sure. I do not know what I like."
"You can keep it."
"What kind of trickery is this?"
"No tricks. As I said, you're beautiful, and beautiful things should have beautiful things."
"No tricks, certainly, but what do you want in exchange?"
For the first time tonight, he looked sheepish. She noticed that his stomach was turning pink, but for what reason, she was unsure. She wondered what he was trying to work up the nerve to say.
"Well, er, matin' season is comin' up," he began.
"Not yet."
"Right, it isn't for a few months yet, but I was taught to woo the mer, er, the creature that I choose with shiny things. It's my first matin' season, you see."
"Mhm."
"An' the wooin' part takes a while. An' then there's the courtin' stage, which takes even longer."
"If you need a mate, there are mer all around this area during this time."
"Well- heh." The merman rubbed the back of his neck. "I-I'd like it to be you."
"Why?"
"Because you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Ah."
"I have more shiny things if you want 'em," the mer said, reaching for his pouch.
She shrugged. "I have no use for them."
"You don't gotta have a use for 'em. Where's your home cave? I can bring 'em there."
"I do not have a home cave," she said.
"Oh, right, where is your family's cave, then?"
"I have no family."
"No family? You mean, you're out here all by yourself?"
"Yes."
"Aren't you lonely?"
"What is lonely?" she asked.
"Sad, because you have no one with ya."
"What is sad?"
"Whaddya mean, 'what is sad?' It's sad! Don't you know what that is?" the merman twisted his face up like he was in distress, though what kind she was not sure.
"I only know hunger," she told him.
His eyes lost some of their shine. "Oh, yeah, right. How long's it been since you ate properly anyway? You don't look so good."
"I have not caught a human in months."
"D'you need help huntin'?"
"Can you ensnare a human with your singing?"
"No, but I know some good spots for fish."
"I am not in the mood for fish," she said.
"You just haven't found the right kind," the merman replied, closing his left eye.
He turned tail, swimming away from her before glancing back to see if she would follow him. The hunger in her belly was making her act quite strange in that she was willing to go along with this merman. She felt, oh, what's the word, she knew this, like mer, she was curious. She decided to follow him, keeping a bit of distance between them until the merman flipped around in an impressive display of tailfins and long dark hair, and decided they would swim side by side. His hand kept brushing hers, trying to grab onto her fingers for some reason. She tugged away, unsure of what he was trying to do. She still had not yet decided if she wanted to mate with him anyway. Sirens did not mate in the same way that mer did, that much she knew. They called it breeding, and it was over in a frenzy of teeth and claws. There were no gifts of shiny things or "kisses."
"What's yer name?" the merman asked.
The question stunned her. She could not remember her name before the sea took her in, and she had no use for a name now. No one else called to her. Her name was simply another memory, another casualty to add to her list.
"I do not know," she said.
"You know what a name is, right? Like, I'm Bucky, for example."
Her fingers drifted up to her lips, searching for her name. If she remembered the shape of her mouth as she spoke it aloud, perhaps she could remember the correct sounds. She thought back as far as she could, to the feeling of water filling her lungs, to the sounds of screams, to the smell of a fire burning down her village, to her blood staining her tongue. She wanted to remember her name. She had not even realized this was something she had lost until she needed it.
Then there was a flash of memory, jagged and cutting. Her heart began to race. In her mind, she heard it. Her mother had been crying. Her mother had been screaming at the men to stop. Her mother had been shrieking to let go of her, let go of my daughter. Her mother yelling at her to be brave, hold her breath, be strong, my love, my dear. Her mother. She remembered her mother.
Her lips parted, and she whispered the name into the water. The merman, Bucky, repeated it.
"Again," she said.
He did, and oh, she felt something new, something besides hunger. A hole opened in her chest. Her lower lip wobbled, and then she was singing a new song, never before heard from a siren. It echoed around her and Bucky, reaching out to the farthest depths of the sea. It was filled with desperation, isolation, and salvation, but it was hope and home too.
"Is this what sad is?" she asked Bucky once her song was over.
"Yeah, it is," he answered, curling his tail around hers.
When he went to wrap her up in his arms, she let him, falling into his embrace.
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theflipsiderunes · 3 years
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Debris hover everywhere around the enormous, dim room, bouncing off each other and spinning around weightlessly. Dipper pushes off the wall, hitting into Stan and Soos and sending them barreling the other way through the air. As Soos keeps a tight grip around Stan, Dipper attacks him from the other side, hitting him in the face and shouting down at his sister. “Mabel, press the red button! Shut it down!” 
Stan manages to shove Dipper off and thrusts his hands out in front of him, waving them around in panic. “No, you can’t! You gotta trust me!” Mabel holds tightly to the bar beneath the glowing red stand, looking up at him in worry. “Grunkle Stan, I don’t even know if you’re my Grunkle!” She grips it even harder, and the other three watch in silence as tears float up off her cheeks and billow into the air. “I wanna believe you, but—“ “Then listen to me,” Stan begs. “Remember this morning when I said I wanted to tell you guys something?” “T-minus 20 seconds,” the computer interrupts, and a burst of light from the colorful gateway makes them yell out as it blows all but Mabel against the wall. Mabel watches in horror before gritting her teeth and raising a fist. But Stan quickly speaks, making Mabel stop midair. “I wanted to say that you’re gonna hear some bad things about me, and some of ‘em are true, but trust me, everything I’ve worked for, everything I care about, it’s all for this family.” “Mabel, what if he’s lying? This thing could destroy the universe!” Dipper points to his birthmark. “Listen to your head!” Mabel gapes at the lightning zipping out in all directions behind her. “Look into my eyes, Mabel!” Stan cries, making her head turn. “You really think I’m a bad guy?” “He’s lying! Shut it down, now!” Dipper shouts. “Mabel, please!” “Ten, nine…” the computer counts down, and the portal spins faster. Mabel slowly moves her hand down, opening her eyes one last time. She stares into her brother’s eyes, the desperation in his expression sending a fearful jolt through her chest. Then she slowly turns back to Stan, her eyes growing hot again at his pleading gaze. Her heart sinks at the sight of him. She thought she knew him. “Grunkle Stan…” Mabel bites back more tears, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” Then she slams her palm down on the button. Stan reaches out in vain, yelling as the portal starts to collapse in on itself. Its pull grows stronger, and Mabel clings tightly to the bar, her feet dangling ever nearer to the swirling mouth of the vortex. Just as her fingers are about to slip, the portal dies with a faltering whirr. A shockwave explodes from the colossal triangular frame, and the four of them tumble to the floor as gravity rises once again.
Stan groans, clutching at his sore abdomen and sitting up with a weak “agh.” But when he looks up, his face falls. Dipper pushes himself up, lifting his head from the ground. He blinks a few times, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears as he searches for his hat. When he spots it, he stands, stumbling a little before scooping the cap up and pulling the brim down to his eyebrows. A cough makes him whip around, and he rushes to Mabel, helping her up. “Did it work?” Mabel asks, rubbing her cheek. Dipper peers over his shoulder, lighting up. He turns back to his twin, grinning excitedly. “Mabel, you did it. You saved the world!” Soos joins them, pointing at Mabel and smiling. “That was pretty awesome, girl-dude.” Their voices are nothing but distant, muffled tones from where Stan stands. A few more labored steps, and he stops, falling to his knees. He never takes his devastated, glassy eyes off of the dormant portal frame. Dipper pulls his hat off for a moment, running a hand through his bangs and chuckling in relief. His smile fades, however, when he sees Mabel’s dimming expression. Curious, Dipper glances behind him to see what she’s staring at, and he finally notices Stan. Dipper and Mabel look at each other, concern creasing their foreheads. “Kids?” Stan says, and they both jump. He doesn’t speak for a long moment, which only makes them listen more intently when his flat voice finally cuts through the silence. “I want you to go upstairs and pack your suitcases.” Mabel tugs the ends of her hair, biting her lip. “But Grunkle Stan—“ “Wait, what?” Dipper shakes his head in disbelief, stepping forward. “You heard me.” “But the government agents—“ Stan turns to them, his expression dark. “Are not your problem. It’s me they want anyway. I’ve gotten out of jail before, and I’ll escape again. Now pack—your—bags.” Mabel’s eyes start to glisten again, but Dipper narrows his eyes, standing taller. “You know what? Fine. We’ll go, and you can deal with them alone. In fact—“ Dipper marches up to a scowling Stan, jabbing a finger at him. “I hope you get caught!” he spits. “You’ve been lying to us this whole time! About the journals, about Gravity Falls, about your identity—you’re a criminal!” Stan takes a step closer, glaring down at him. Dipper backs up just a little, despite keeping up his indignant appearance. Stan speaks slowly, deliberately. “You wanna know why I’m a criminal, kid?” Dipper says nothing, still glowering up at Stan, who throws his hand down, stomping resentfully. “It’s because I was tryna bring back my brother!” Dipper’s heart skips, the tension in every muscle of his body vanishing in an instant. “You… what?” Stan chuckles, but it’s cold, sarcastic. “Oh, didn’t know I had one, didja? That’s why I was trying to keep you away from those stupid journals of his.” Stan jabs a finger at the gold-embellished book on the ground. “So you wouldn’t get caught up in all this sciencey voodoo stuff. So you kids wouldn’t ruin my one chance to get him back!” Stan pushes his glasses up onto his forehead as he covers his eyes, swallowing hard. His voice wavers. “Now I’ll never get him back.” Dipper’s breath catches in his throat and his jaw falls open, widening as his eyes do. “Your brother is the AUTHOR?” Art credits: TheFlipsideRunes: drawing, @differentducktectivewasteland: shading Author credit: TheFlipsideRunes
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howlingday · 3 years
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nora the arc au) nora finds out that blake was essentually a child soldier and blake admits she's afraid that she doesn't know how to be a good person nora sugests she find someone she trusts to be a good person and then just follow their orders. then study them to find out how to be a good person yourself.
she was expecting blake to follow her own team leader ruby. instead now she's got a cat constantly watching her and jaune trying to get intimate. SHE CAN'T HOLD HANDS IN FRONT OF SOMEONE IT'S TOO LEWD! she can kiss her husband tho so consolation prize
Ceiling Cat!
Blake heard everything. Blake saw everything. If it happens in Beacon, sooner or later, she would learn about it. So when she learned about her neighbors across the hall being both the most trusting people and the most loving couple, she needed to learn more, firsthand.
Her years in the White Fang taught her many skills, including infiltration. She knocked on the door, no doubt drawing the attention of the dwellers inside. The door opens.
"Hm?" Jaune peered out through the door. "Oh, hey, Blake! What's up?"
She needed to gain their trust if she was taking this route. Failure to do so could end in total mission failure. She needed to give them a reason to let her in.
"Hey, Jaune. Do you mind if we talk in your room?"
"Uh, sure!" Jaune opened the door wide and stepped aside. "Come on in!"
"Thank you." The door shut behind her. Mission accomplished.
"What are you doing by the peephole, Yang?" Damn! I've been spotted! It's all on you, Blake! Your partner's been captured by the ice queen! "Hey!"
Blake sat quietly across the tea table Jaune unfolded for their discussion. She was told it was an idea Ren had to help bond the team together. It was small, square, and only had enough room for one person at each end. Thankfully, however, it was tall enough to have tea on. She was served a cup pre-made by Ren for sudden guests.
"So what's on your mind?" Jaune asked.
"I'm told you're the most trusting man at Beacon."
"Wow, really?" Jaune blushed. "I had no idea!"
Blake nodded. "I wanted to get to know you a little better, and hopefully you can get to know me as well."
"Yeah, that'd be great!" Jaune beamed. "What do you want to know?"
"First, I'd like to know about your family." Blake began. "You were born to the Arc family, correct?"
Jaune nodded. "I take you've heard of them."
"Only a few times. My father used to praise your family for being kind." Jaune grinned. "But he also criticized their recklessness." He frowned. "He said your family made a habit of sticking their nose where it didn't belong. The Faunus Wars, for example."
"Oh, yeah. You mean Abigail Arc, right?" Blake nodded. "Honestly, I don't know a lot about her, except that she broke Faunus from slavery during the early settling of Vacuo."
Blake nodded. "Yes, and at the time, she was my favorite human from history."
"Really? Who was your favorite Faunus?"
"I would say Ghira Belladonna, one of the early founders of the White Fang."
"The terrorist group?" Blake flinched, but Jaune didn't seem to notice. "Kind of weird, but I guess it makes sense if you cared a lot about Faunus rights."
Blake nodded. "Yes, and I do. Jaune, do you trust me?"
"Of course I do."
"And can I trust you?"
"You can." Blake removed the string from her ribbon, causing it to fall and reveal her small cat ears. Jaune blinked and gasped. Blake blushed as she revealed her secret.
"Kitty!"
"What?" Blake whirled around to find Nora standing behind her, gawking at Blake's ears. She had stars in her eyes, like a child watching a butterfly for the first time.
"Can I touch them?" Nora gave a pouty face. "Pleeeeeeeease?"
"Nora," Jaune warned, "mind your manners."
Blake giggled. "Are you sure you're a couple? You seem more like a parent and child relationship."
Nora scoffed. "It's just a gag we run with each other. Right, Jauney?"
Jaune chuckled. "Yes, honey, it is." Jaune then looked Blake dead in the eyes and shook his head, mouthing 'No!' Nora pulled up a chair and sat between them. "So, you're a cat faunus? I take it that's why you're so curious about my thoughts on Abigail Arc."
"Partially." Blake admitted. "Moreover, I was curious on your thoughts on human/faunus relations."
"What relations?" Nora asked.
Blake nodded. "Exactly. Humans and Faunus have had a strained connection between them since the end of the Faunus Wars. Some people have held onto their grudges from then, even when the war ended before their parents were born."
Nora nodded along. "Mhm, I see."
"It's a shame when people can't see past a set of ears or a tail to have a normal conversation." Jaune replied.
"Yes, a darn shame." Nora nodded again.
"Cardin is one example." Blake offered. "His great grandfather fought against the Faunus, and he still holds a grudge against us, even though we never harmed him."
"True, true."
"Nora," Jaune looked in his fiance's direction, "when did the Faunus Wars end?"
"Uh," Nora blushed, "sixty-three years ago starting at noon tomorrow?"
Blake and Jaune shared a look, then looked back in Nora's direction. "Lucky guess."
"Look, I don't really get it, but I still think it's ridiculous." Nora started listing things on her fingers, "The Faunus Wars, the White Fang, the Menagerie Outcastings, the SDC embargoes," Nora waved her hands in the air. "It's all ridiculous! At the end of the day, we're all the same squishy people with breakable body parts."
"A bit morbid, but I understand." Blake was surprised to hear Nora make an argument against not just Faunus discrimination, but discrimination as a whole. She smiled as she stood up. "I should be going." She tied the bow around her ears. "But before I go, I have one more question to ask you."
Jaune and Nora watched carefully. "Yes?" Jaune answered.
"I used to be a member of the White Fang. I used to hurt people for a living. For ten years, every day, I fought against violence with violence. Knowing this," Blake turned to face them, their visibly pale faces watching her every move, "will you treat me any differently?"
"Yes," Jaune answered immediately, standing up and approaching her. She watched as he closed the gap between them, unflinching, expecting the worst. "I'm sorry."
Blake couldn't move. She was trapped in his grip, and he refused to let go. Worse yet, it felt... nice.
Jaune hugged her, resting his head on her shoulder, one hand rubbing her back. "I'm sorry you had to go through that?"
"Jeez, Jauney," Nora teased, "now who's being rude, hugging a girl without her permission?"
"It's fine, it's..." Blake leaned into the hug, "nice."
Blake had left, and Jaune was currently putting the tea table away. He folded it and slipped it into the closet space. As he shut the door, he was hugged from behind by Nora. "You really do have a big heart," Nora said, "you know that?"
"Yeah, I know." Jaune answered. "What I didn't know was how much you knew about Faunus history."
Nora giggled. "Just because I don't talk about it, it doesn't mean I don't know anything about it."
"Fair point." Jaune admitted. "So, here we are again."
"All alone." Nora added.
"Ren and Pyrrha won't be back for a while. Do you wanna..." Jaune trailed off.
"Right now? In the middle of the day?" Nora asked.
Jaune turned around to face Nora. He draped his arms over her shoulders. "Why not? No one's watching."
Nora gulped. "O-Okay."
Jaune and Nora held their hands up, touching palms together. Jaune shifted his hand clockwise and began by wrapping her hand with his pinkie. Nora followed suit with her pinkie, nestling it between his Pinkie and ring finger. Jaune then lowered his ring finger down, followed by Nora, though her finger's ring cause Jaune to flinch from how cold it was. "Are you okay?" Nora asked. Jaune nodded, and continued with his middle finger. Then came the index fingers, leaving only the thumbs extended. Jaune wrapped his thumb around Nora's hand, with the girl looking up with a dreamy sigh.
"BLAKE?!" Nora shrieked. Nora leapt away and looked away with a blush. Jaune looked up, and indeed saw the Faunus girl above with cat eyes wide with pupils round.
"Should you be doing such lewd things without wedding rings on?" Blake asked.
Jaune grabbed his boot from the closet, hefting it up. "GET OUT OF HERE, CEILING CAT!" Jaune tossed his boot into the ceiling, forcing Blake to scurry away.
"What happened?!" Ruby asked, static covering her speech.
"Mission failed," Blake reported, "we'll get 'em next time."
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irons-enough · 3 years
Text
June 1881 (Teenage Arthur Morgan)
A short little ficlet inspired by this amazing photo edit by @foundynnel which made me obsessed with the idea of cocky bastard teenage Arthur. Maybe I’ll expand on this one day (Red Dead YA novel, anyone?) but it was fun to write!
Rating: G Tags: Language, teeny bit of blood
Wyoming Territory - June 1881 
Arthur Morgan spat blood into the dirt. His eyes were bright with adrenaline and, just beneath the surface, an unbridled fury. His split lip curled into an arrogant smile as he raised his fists again. "That all you got?" 
His opponent cycled between shock and rage that Arthur had not gone down in one hit. but it was the look in his eyes--the insufferable, cocky stare of a seventeen-year-old drifter with a six-shooter and a foul attitude--that made him swing wide to slam his fist into the little son of a bitch's face. Arthur was ready; waiting, in fact. He raised his arm to bar the swing and with his other hand punched upward into the man's jaw. He heard the crack of bone at the same time the break reverberated through his fist, and the man fell as suddenly and heavily as he had fallen asleep, groaning helplessly as he cradled his broken jaw. 
Arthur shook out his hand, swiped the blood from his lower lip. He smirked in satisfaction at the stunned silence of the onlookers. He made a show of dusting off his shirt and casually picking up his hat from where it lay in the road. “Gentlemen,” he said in farewell, with a polite nod to the assembled crowd.
________________________________________
"Arthur. What the fuck?" 
Arthur smirked at Dutch's greeting as he arrived at their campsite, tried and failed to look innocent. "Well, hey to you, too." 
"You wanna explain why the entire goddamn town is talkin' about some cocky hotshot kid layin' out the local stable hand?" 
"Really? They are?" Arthur exclaimed, his eyes brightening. Dutch whacked him upside the head. "Ow!" 
"Tell me, son, when Hosea and I say 'Don't do anything stupid', what exactly is it that you hear?" Dutch demanded. 
Arthur rubbed the back of his head. "Not much, I guess." 
"Oh, that's evident." Dutch's dark eyes narrowed at Arthur's defiant expression. "You listenin’' to me?" 
"Sure, just not your goddamn sarcasm," Arthur spat. 
"You got some attitude, you--" He bit back the curse that was just shy of forming on his lips. "Susan!" he yelled. "Deal with him. I'm not his goddamn father; not my job to deal with his bullshit." 
"Oh, and so now it’s mine?!" Susan's voice fell like a hatchet even from a distance. Arthur leaned his head on his fist to hide his grin as Susan and Dutch argued over whose problem he was this time. 
Hosea knocked his fist into Arthur’s shoulder, beckoning. “Come on, Arthur.”
Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed as he hauled himself to his feet, as though it was a major inconvenience. He followed Hosea over to the front of the abandoned cabin at their campsite, a decrepit old building with a half-collapsed roof. Hosea struck a match against his boot heel and lit a cigarette as he leaned against the side of the cottage.
“Can I get one?” said Arthur.
“No.”
“C’mon, Hosea...” “Shut up. Get over here.”
Arthur slumped against the wall beside Hosea. He took his pistol from its holster and toyed with it: spinning it around his fingers as he drew, looking down the sights as he pointed it at the dirt. Hosea snatched it from him deftly. “What the hell?” Arthur exclaimed.
“Arthur, you wanna live to see twenty?” said Hosea.
“Who cares?” Arthur’s head lolled so that his hat hid his eyes.
“I care. And you should care.” Hosea’s voice was even now, but still severe. “You’re still a goddamn kid, you don’t know anything yet. Suffice it to say if you’re stupid enough to get yourself killed before twenty, you’re better off dead. And that’s not you, Arthur.”
“You sure ‘bout that?” Arthur mumbled.
“Me and Dutch have things in the works to get us a score. And if you’re gonna be a goddamn idiot and draw attention to yourself, that’ll be the last time you’re involved in anything we do.”
“It weren’t even so bad,” Arthur complained. “How’m I supposed to know you got plans when you never tell me a goddamn thing? Why be a goddamn criminal if you can’t do what you want? Ain’t no point.”
“The point is to live through it, Arthur. Money’s no good to you if you’re dead. Now when we need to lie low, keep our noses clean, it’s because we got something big in the works, and we can’t risk the plans while we’re still layin’ tracks. You know that. You’re a hell of a lot of things son, but a complete fool ain’t one of ‘em.” Hosea dropped his cigarette and ground it out into the dirt. “Not one of us acts alone, boy. Part of runnin’ together means sacrificing your own selfish desires for the good of the group.”
“I know that,” Arthur grumbled.
“Well, it’s high time you acted like it.” Hosea flipped Arthur’s pistol out of his hand with a flourish, catching it by the barrel. He held out the grip toward Arthur. “Stay here a while,” he said. “Somethin’ tells me I need to talk down Dutch and Susan.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?”
Hosea was already walking away. “I don’t quite care, son. Sit here and do nothing. Be still for once in your life.”
Arthur scowled and sighed, kicked up dust with his boot. For all the stealing and shooting Dutch and Hosea wanted him to do, they sure knew how to treat him like a goddamn idiot sometimes. Maybe the day would come when he could boss them around.
He looked in the direction of the setting sun, toward California where they had come from. There was always new country to explore, new people to rob, more money to be made, more sunsets to see. Every time Arthur leveled his gun at a man and made him act, or freeze, or die--it started a whole new adventure. Some were good. Some were great. Others he wished he could forget, and there were still more that had left him with scars and foul memories that endured well beyond what they should. For the past five years, Arthur Morgan had lived for sunsets like this one, and he couldn’t wait for a lifetime more.
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shortprince-cos · 4 years
Text
More Truths Than Dares
Summary: After "The Double Closet Incident" as Patton so calls it, Patton and Janus have a talk at their friends' sleepover.
Ship: Moceit (Patton x Janus)
Warnings: Smoking, claustrophobia mention, truth or dare. Tell me if I need to add anything else!
Note: This is a direct sequel to "In A Closet"! You can read this without reading that, but it'll probably be confusing!
{Previous}
{Masterlist} (I KNOW I NEED TO FIX IT BUT IM A PROCRASTINATOR FIGHT ME)
~~~~~
"Oh, I didn't know he was invited."
All Patton had done was walk in the door. He hadn't even said hi, or hugged Roman yet, he just walked in the door, and Janus was already on his back for just existing in his presence.
It was going to be a long night.
"Yes? He's my best friend, you know!" Roman defended as he brought Patton to sit on the couch with him and Logan.
"Wow, rude." Logan said.
Roman made a series of offended noises. "You're my boyfriend! So obviously Patton is my best friend!"
As the two quickly dissolved into playful banter, Patton stood to go put his overnight bag in Roman's room, hearing Janus whisper something to Remus and Virgil as he walked by.
Just ignore it, he thought, not really in the mood to argue today. Especially not after what Patton had dubbed ‘The Double Closet Incident’.
It was disastrous. Not only did Patton get locked in a closet with Janus, who has claustrophobia, he discovered that he may have a thing for men. Who knew?
Roman. Roman probably knew, especially after he had adopted Patton into their little friend group. And if being gay was a contest, Roman would be the judge.
But...it was normal to feel that way, right? It wasn't weird to feel embarrassed when someone got up in your personal space, was it? It wasn't abnormal to blush when someone said kind words to you, or odd to imagine yourself in different scenarios with someone you saw on a daily basis and they were-
Wait, what was he doing again?
Patton sighed as he set down his bag by Roman's bed. Those were thoughts for another day. He was supposed to be having fun at his best friend's sleepover, after all!
Patton put on a happy face and went back to the living room to join the others, finding that Roman and Remus were wrestling over something, Logan and Janus were debating, and Virgil was scrolling on his phone. Yep, it was going to be a long night.
---
After breaking up Roman and Remus' tussle, watching a couple of movies, and other various shenanigans, Remus decided to gather everyone up in his room to play truth or dare.
If Patton learned anything from watching the others' turns, it was to always choose truth when Remus picks you.
"Double D, Truth or Dare?" Remus asked excitedly, even though he already knew what Janus would say.
"Dare."
Remus grinned like a shark. "I dare you and Patton to stay in my closet for one hour together."
Both Janus and Patton went pale.
"I...lied. I meant truth." Janus quickly said, hoping that Remus would let up.
"Nope! Too late! Now, you and Patton have to get in there, have hate sex or something, and come out in an hour!"
"Uh- we can't!" Patton exclaimed suddenly, and then all eyes were on him.
"What, are you afraid of the dark or something?" Remus teased.
"Um- no- well, kinda- but no. I- uh- have claustrophobia."
Janus looked shocked, to say the least. Thankfully, everyone was still looking at Patton.
"Yeah, small spaces are absolute torture to be in, and I would prefer it if none of us did stuff that involves small spaces, because then I'll worry about them!" Patton rambled quickly, trying to get all attention on him.
Remus rolled his eyes. "Ugh, fine. But you guys still need to do something together."
Patton blushed a bit, and Janus sighed, looking relieved.
Eventually, Remus gave up, and just dared Janus to eat shaving cream.
The rest of the night went smoother, and Patton ended up telling a lot of weird secrets, but not very important ones.
Eventually, everyone was asleep in either Roman's room, or Remus' room. Everyone except Patton, who couldn't get his brain to turn off.
Patton reluctantly got out of his sleeping bag, and made his way to the front door, maybe some fresh air would clear his mind.
Turns out, he wasn't the only one who had that idea, because as he stepped outside, he found the one and only Janus on the porch, smoking a cigarette.
Before Patton could turn back around, Janus saw him, and nodded his head in acknowledgment. Well, no going back now.
Patton silently sat down in the wooden rocking chair next to where Janus was standing, staring off into space a little before speaking up.
"You-you know that smoking is bad for you, right?"
Janus' lips curled up in a small smile as he chuckled. "I'm aware. Don't worry your pretty head, I only do it when I'm stressed."
Patton decided to ignore the way being called pretty by Janus felt and focused on the other part of that statement. "What are you stressed about?"
Janus blew out a puff of smoke, and suddenly Patton was very distracted by his lips.
"You. You're...different than how I thought you'd be." Janus said solemnly, drawing in another breath.
"Is...is that a bad thing?" Patton asked quietly, looking down to the floor.
Janus glanced at Patton with an indecipherable look on his face. "To be honest? I don't know. On one hand, you're actually a decent person."
"Thank you?"
"And on the other," Janus continued. "I've treated you like s**t for no reason other than spite."
"...It's okay-"
"It's not." Janus interrupted.
They sat in silence for awhile, trying to figure out if the other still wanted them here or not.
"Why did you think I was a bad person?" Patton asked quietly.
Janus huffed. "It's complicated."
"I mean...we got all night."
"...true." Janus sighed. "I think it's because ‘nice’ people don't usually want anything to do with me, and when they do, it's usually for the wrong reasons." He explained. "So when you started talking to me...I don't know, you reminded me of all the wrong people."
Patton's heart broke. He reminded Janus of some probably terrible memories, and had probably been hurting him just by being around him! No wonder Janus frowned whenever Patton walked in a room!
"Janus, I'm so so sorry, I never knew-"
"What are you sorry for?"
"I- That I remind you of some terrible people in your life-"
"Patton," Janus rest a hand on Patton's shoulder, making him blush. "You don't have any control over who you remind me of. Please, don't apologize for that."
"Well- then you can't apologize for being reminded of those people either!" Patton argued.
"I didn't say that, I said I was sorry for treating you terribly!"
"Well, then, I guess you're forgiven!" Patton retorted.
Janus looked at him in shock, as if Patton had just said a bunch of profanities, before quickly looking back to stare off into the distance again. His cheeks were red, but Patton convinced himself that he was probably cold out here.
"You're...too forgiving." Janus mumbled softly, as if he was talking to himself.
"I think that's a good thing." Patton replied.
Janus huffed. "...Thank you." He said, looking at Patton with a small smile on his face. "For everything."
Patton blushed. "Y-Yeah. No problem."
Janus looked at him with a disagreeing look on his face, but let it go.
They settled into comfortable silence as Janus threw his cigarette away and Patton almost fell asleep.
The second time Patton had to force his head up, Janus huffed.
"You should probably get to sleep."
As if on cue, Patton yawned. "So should you." He said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
Janus chuckled. "Fine. I'll go back to bed if you do."
"Okay, fine. You have a deal."
Janus had that stupid, self-satisfied smirk on his face that he usually wore that made Patton feel fuzzy inside.
"Good," He smirked. "See you in the morning."
"Yeah. See ya."
Janus ventured into the house, Patton following a few moments later.
Patton felt like he was getting into dangerous territory with Janus, but instead of feeling concerned, he felt more excited than ever.
~~~~~
Hi guys!!!! Its been awhile! So, this is an au that ive fallen in love with, so i wanna keep writing for it! If you guys have any name ideas, send em my way please!
General Taglist: @resident-crow-goth @macademmia @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dles @tranquil-space-ninja @chaotic-murder-muffin @lugooble @sander-crossing @princess-rosie @sleepyysoot @hi-its-tutty @lookingforaplacetosleep @sarcasmremovedsoul @corkeecoderyt @drarrymalecsolangelo @private-snippers @girl-who-reads @emy-loves-you @reptilian-with-scallions
Ask to be added or removed!
Reblogs are appreciated!💖
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years
Note
can you maybe do sdra2 cast reacting to their S/O revealing that they’re apart of void? (minus the other void members,of course-)👉👈
Oop I’ve been kinda losing motivation for this one, so I left out Yuri, Shobai, Yoruko, and Sora. Apologies! ^^;
..........
Yuki
“You’re with THEM?!!!”
“Y-Yuki, calm down-”
“No! I..I-I can’t believe it..” The orange-haired male stood up, his hands shaking as he stared down at you. Tears filled up his eyes. “Why tell me this? Why now? Are you planning to kill me? D-Did..Did you only fall in love with me just to-?!”
“No, no! I would never do that to you!” You stood up as well and took his hands, praying that he stayed and listened to you. “I’m not gonna kill anyone.”
“....you’re only saying that because you saw Hajime die.”
“Not even that. I..I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I just..figured it was best to tell you now while we’re alone. I never wanted any part of Void's plans. I'm not gonna turn into a killer. I swear it, Yu.”
Yuki was conflicted on whether to forgive you or not. On one hand, learning this information hurt him deeply. But on the other, kf you were willing to betray Mikado by telling him this then...you must truly loved him.
He looked up at you, blinking back the tears. “You promise?”
“I swear it.” By bringing him into a tight hug, you secured that promise.
...........
Kokoro
“You wanted to tell me you were in Void.”
“.....yeah, you truly are psychic.” You sighed, rubbing your head as you nervously anticipated your girlfriend’s response.
Though she was calm and briefly looked up from her tablet, gazing into your eyes. “And you don’t want to be associated with them anymore. You wanna be on our side, even if it means certain death for you.”
You simply nodded. “Hitting all the nails on the head, I see."
"I understand why you joined them, but I'm not mad or disappointed as you might expect me to be." She stated. "You don't want to kill so I see no reason to be cautious around you at all."
Even though you knew her talent was just that powerful, you were still surprised by her words. But you smiled a little in relief.
"Thanks, Koko. I appreciate your understanding." 
You kissed her cheek, which made her blush slightly as she raised her tablet to hide her face.
"I-It's just natural for me to observe my partner..that's all."
..........
Hibiki
“Y-You...YOU TRAITOR! YOU’RE THE WORST!! GET AWAY FROM ME FILTHY VOID!!”
“W-Wait, Hibiki-!!!” You were shoved back by the small vocalist. By the time you regained your balance, she was out of sight. “Shit..”
With a sigh, you began heading in the direction that she went. Of course you knew she wouldn’t take the news well, but it hurt to be insulted before you even had the chance to explain yourself.
You asked around, and eventually found Hibiki at the beach. She sat alone in the sand, crying into her knees. As you sat beside her, you cautiously put a hand on her shaking back, and she looked up at you with a tear-stained face. "P-Please don't hurt me.."
"I wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart." You reassured, before you began explaining the reason you were in Void and how you hated the idea of killing, hoping she would understand.
Once you were done, you just waited anxiously for what Hibiki would say or do next, thinking she'll still hate you anyways.
But she just began crying again as she hugged you tightly.
"I-I'm sorry for pushing y-you away...I just...you've helped me so much and..I-I don't wanna leave you.." She sniffled into your chest, feeling your comforting arms wrap around her.
"I don't wanna leave you either, Biki. I promise I won't." You told her.
There was no guarantee you could keep that promise, but for now...you gave her what she needed to hear.
..........
Teruya
It wasn’t easy to confess, but you decided to tell Teruya about your affiliation with Void. 
And...as expected, he didn’t take it well.
He had his hands on your shoulders, begging for an explanation as to how and why you were with them.
But after you told him your motivations and how you don’t want to kill anyone, the regret only grew as he slowly took his hands off you. His expression was bleak, which made your stomach sink with despair.  
Shit. He’s fully convinced that you betrayed him now. 
“Teruya..I-”
You tried to say something to defend yourself. But his face spoke louder than words.
He must’ve thought you were a coward and a traitor...and now you’ve possibly ruined this relationship-
“C’mon.” He suddenly grabbed your hand, while drawing out a gun in his other. “From here on out, you’re under my surveillance. You will not talk to anyone else about your affiliation with Void except me.”
“H-Huh..?” You were bewildered by his actions. “I thought..you were gonna leave me..”
Teruya looked back at you with sadness in his eyes, their emerald color seeming darker than usual. “No. Not after what you told me. Look, I still love you, [y/n]. I’m only doing this for your protection. So please..don’t resist, and let me be useful for once.”
.............
Shinji
“Shinji? Did you mean it when you said you wanted the Voids to be our friends?”
“I meant every word, [y/n].”
“....what if they were your lover, though?”
“Then I’d still---wait...” The firefighter turned around fast, confused. “What did you say?”
“I’m with Void. B-But I swear on my life I don’t plan to kill anyone or-!” Frantic words began tumbling from your mouth.
“Hey, hey..take deep breaths.” He placed his hands on your shoulders ever so gently, giving you a calming smile. “I’m not mad. I...w-was just surprised, that’s all. I’m glad you decided to tell me.”
For a few moments you stared at him, baffled that he didn’t get angry or feel hurt by your confession. Though your initial panic subsided as you smiled back at him. 
“Thanks, Shin..for not freaking out.” You then looked around. “Y-You won’t tell anyone else, right?”
“Only if you wanna. I trust that you don’t want to take that bastard’s side anymore, so..you tell ‘em when you ready.”
Nodding, you hugged him tightly, the action causing him to blush. But he held you in return, promising to protect you with every inch of his life.
..........
Kanade
“Oh...I knew it all along.”
“You did?” Blinking in surprise, you stared at Kanade, wondering how she could’ve known you were with Void.
But the guitarist just giggled as she took your hands, absentmindedly swinging them and never taking her eyes off of you. “Yeah, but I didn’t really care about them or what you do. That’s why I never said anything. Though..I know you wouldn’t leave me for them, would you?”
“..no.” You sighed, feeling unnerved as to how she figured that out. At the same time you were relieved she didn’t get angry at you. “I promise I’m not gonna kill anyone or hurt anyone..especially not you.”
There was a long pause, which made you nervous once more, though Kanade simply kissed your cheek and let go of your hands. “Don’t worry, I know you could never be capable of something like that. I’ll be sure to carry this secret to our graves~”
She gave you one last innocent smile before walking away, leaving you to ponder over her grim promise.
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skampi835 · 3 years
Text
Let’s never speak of this again! (Motonari x reader)
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Let’s celebrate Motonari’s upcoming route with an oneshot! 🥳 Since I hopefully avoided most of the spoilers I didn’t come up with any good idea, but then I found this:
you and your enemy hug each other, it's completely accidental, and neither of you know why it happened, and it's like,,, you glare at each other, with an expression of ''let's never speak of this again'´
Thanks for putting this idea in my mind @screnwriter​!
Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku
Language: english
Starring: Motonari x reader (female)
Genre: Comedy
Warning: besides Motonari’s slanguage surprisingly none... ahaha who am I kidding? It's Motonari 😂
real Warnings: angst, bad language, violence (fighting scene!)
Word Count: 1.810
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“Get her!”
Shoot! How do I always end in situations like this?!
With this thought you’re bolting straight into the next alleyway. You’ve left the busy trading streets of Azuchi a long time ago and unfortunately lost track of your current position due the rising panic inside of you. Honestly, you’ve no idea where the heck you are right now! Though obviously still in Azuchi you’re running hopefully into the right direction towards the fuller marketplace!
Desperate, you’re squeezing your way through a very small gap between two buildings and dash on. Maybe your pursuers can’t follow you through this and it'll buy you some extra time! The shouts from traders and the sounds of frisky chatters are getting louder with every step you’re taking, which means you have to be on the right track!
Determined you’re keeping up the fast pace, praying you’re able to shake off your pursuers completely in the crowds of the busy market, as you round the next corner. But all of a sudden you’re awfully crashing into a wall.
“Woah!”
“Uff--!”
The heavy impact is stealing your air, though obviously not only from you, but also from said wall, which in the hustle and bustle you’re literally falling into his arms eagerly not to fall. Together you’re even staggering sideways for a split second. Stressed and tense you’re spinning your head up with surprise, staring into the startled, wide ruby red eyes of the man. "Wah-…?"
“… You?!”
You didn't even realize how tight you were clutching Motonari when you crashed into him, until he’s violently yanking your arms away. "The hell yer doing? Got a bloody death wish?" He hisses and is glaring at you furiously.
As shocked as Motonari's reaction was, so are you aghast to face him right now. "What, of all people, are you doing here?!" You snap, still completely out of breath.
Quick steps are pulling you back to the current situation you are still in. You were supposed to keep running from your pursuers but simultaneously you’re facing an enemy of the Oda forces. Your situation is definetly growing somewhat hopeless. Nevertheless the sight of Motonari’s anger makes it a lot easier for your decision, to pass him and run away, than to stand rooted on the spot.
Unfortunately Motonari suddenly grabs your wrist roughly when you've just turned away and is pulling you back. "Ack-…! Let me go!" you plead.
"I won't do shit," Motonari growls venomously. "Now that yer recognized me, princess, I’ve gotta improvise something."
The hectic steps from the side street are getting louder with every passing moment, before they’re coming to a sudden stop right next to you. “There’s this witch!” One of the pursuers is shouting. He’s considerably tall with broad shoulders and a massive body. Shortly afterwards another two coarse figures appears behind him. They’re building themselves up with stern grimaces in the narrow alleyway.
Your eyes anxiously widen and your body starts to tremble ever so slightly. But there is no running away again for you, for Motonari’s adamant grip is chaining you.
"Huh, didn't even know yer know so many grim-looking acquaintances, princess." Motonari’s saying coolly, scanning the three men with his steely gaze. Still he doesn't loosen his grip on your wrist instead he’s tightening it.
"I haven't!" You snort, trying to yank your hand free to get away from him - without avail. You don’t know if it's better, getting caught by Motonari or these guys. But you know for shure both scenarios are pretty bad.
"Hey, you there! Plat-head!” One of the scoundrels growls and is glaring at Motonari grimly, whose dryly raising an eyebrow at this denomination. "Give us the little girl. We have business with her."
“That stupid hussy broke my nose!” Another of them shouts indignantly. You’re noticing his swollen red nose and you can't suppress a brief, yet inappropriate, flash of pride in your face.
It was just a few minutes ago, when they stalked you after you’ve exited your favorite shop. Unfortunately this shop is located in the outskirts of the village so there weren’t many people when they confronted you. The guys wanted to ‘talk to you nicely’ and after a few seconds you’ve ‘nicely declined'. Thank goodness you know some techniques of self-defense!
However, even more inappropriate is Motonari's spiteful laughter that he’s suddenly uttering. It’s giving you the creeps! "Seriously?" With a quick sideways glance in your direction with his ruby red orbs, he’s grinning at the fellow with extreme smug. "Tell me, how’d she did it, putz? Did she climb onto yer?"
Good gracious! Wouldn’t you please make him madder than he already is? Pretty please?!
"What did you just call me?" The broad shouldered man’s roaring furiously. Shortening the distance to Motonari, he’s threateningly waving with his massive fist.
Without wanting to, you’re quickly seeking cover behind Motonari, who has finally let go of your wrist. Now with his hands free he’s facing the attacker. With quick reflexes Motonari’s skillfully dodging the scoundrel's punch and draws his sword with a metal 'shink' that’s humming in the air. You’re holding your breath when Motonari’s holding the blade right against the throat of the ruffian, who is instantly not moving a muscle anymore. "Are you out of yer damn mind? You fucking want to take me on unarmed?!"
Motonari’s sounding incredibly unimpressed, for it was him against three rapscallions, but also incredibly pissed. No matter how this will end, you're sure you won't be of any use. So you’re looking around for an escape route. But you are cornered. The only side you could rush to is a dead end.
"The lil’ one’s mine, get it? So piss off, aye? ” Motonari’s growling with a frown and kicks the man roughly in his side. Gruntling the man hits the ground hard.
"You sunova-!" Furiously about the defeat of his crony, another ruffian - not quite as stupid as his predecessor - is trying his luck with a rusty dagger, when he’s running towards Motonari. But after a few seconds it lands on the ground, followed by the guy.
The last of the crew charges in, just to earn a brutal smack with the back of Motonari’s sword in the side of his neck. "Tch! How the hell did ya morons think yer can take me on when a lil’ girly beat you up? Ya wanna make me really mad?”
You’re recognizing the change in the air around Motonari. It’s tense, shifting from the beginning amusement to bloodlust. Motonari’s wielding his sword, but apparently used it just to disarm his opponent. But now it seems that he won’t restrain himself any longer.
"Crap, let's get out of here!" The guy with the lost dagger is yelling towards his pals. Frantically they’re getting up and quickly disappear into the alleys.
You sigh, relieved as the men finally disappear. But just one moment later your heart’s sinking completely into your boots when Motonari turns back to you, though this time with a sword in his hand. "Back to ya, princess."
“I haven't seen or heard anything!” You shout, throwing your arms up in air and backing from him. Now pressed against a real wall on the side of the house, your heart is pounding up to your throat, when you meet Motonari’s sharp gaze. Luckily the bloodlust you’ve seen before has gone, too.
Motonari’s raising an eyebrow, probably irritated by your strange reaction and is fixing you. Then the corner of his mouth curves up to an amusing smirk while he’s withdrawing his sword back to his belt. “Heh, ain’t that a start?” He snickers.
Abruptly he shortens the distance to you, placing one of his white gloved hands right next to your head against the wall behind you. Superior and smugly, Motonari’s looking straight into your eyes, straight into you. The tension’s getting tangible again and your heart’s pounding hard in your chest. "You owe me. I bet you saw nothing, understood?"
Something you least of all wanted, is to owe to some madman like Motunari! His stern expression is sending a shiver through your spine. "I- ... uhm ... thank you?"
"What should I do with yer thanks? Can’t buy anything with ‘em.” Motonari snarls dissatisfied and is slightly narrowing his eyes. "Either you damn shut yer mouth about everything ya saw - hell, just forget I’m even here! Or I'll cut out yer pretty tongue. Ain’t that a deal?"
Automatically you’re pressing your lips together sealing your mouth - and especially your tongue. You’re staring at him in horror with wide eyes. "Let's never talk about this again, aye?"
What joice do you have? Of course you could just agree with Motonari and then tell the warlords about his whereabouts. But you’ve always been a woman which sticks to her word, no matter how bitter this one is. Not entirely sure whether he'll still carry out his threat to cut off your tongue, you're just nodding, while glancing determined up to him.
"Splendid." Motonari’s pushing himself off the wall with a mask of satisfaction on his face, giving you the way free. "Then rush back to yer patrons, ‘lil princess.”
Uncertain you’re blinking towards him. Motonari makes no move to stop you, he’s just waving with his hand in your direction. He really leaves you with just that! Without further thinking, you’re taking to your heels and bolt away. Not that he'll change his mind after all!
After two more alleys, you’re finally reaching the busy and crowded market and try to calm your panicked pounding heart. That was definitely too much excitement for one day! Still, you're grateful for Motonari getting those ruffians off your back. But why does it haf to be Motonari of all people?!
A deal is a deal, you’re thinking to yourself taking one last, deep, nessecary breath. Certainly it won’t mean anything good that Motonari’s currently in Azuchi. You just hope, you won’t regret this deal someday.
With quick steps you’re heading purposefully back to the castle. Even if this idiot surely won’t appreciate it, your silence about that accident was certain to him.
And you are going to take to grave, that you’ve embraced Motonari by that accident, when running into him. Yes, better never even think about this again!
_____
Motonari’s running his white gloved fingers through his hair and grunts in annoyance, after you left. That you’ve recognized him is a great nuisance to him. It’s time to rethink his plans. That would slow things down a lot.
As if he’d actually trust a little princess like you to keep her mouth shut. What stupidity!
Casually he drives his hands on his sides to get rid of the strange feeling from your delicate arms embracing him.
Let's never talk about this again. - Yeah, better let's not.
68 notes · View notes
nutmegalomania · 4 years
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Movie Night
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a mammon x male reader ff
description: on a night when all you wanted to do was to get an early night's sleep, mammon decided to barge into your room and force you into a movie night. you had thought your hormones were under control, but you soon snapped. what first started out as the two of you innocently watching the wide variety of movies he brought turned into a steamy night with the movie night long forgotten.
ingredients: mammon (obey me!)/reader, male reader, mammon (obey me!), bottom mammon, movie night, smut, blow jobs, anal fingering, gay sex
flavor: spicy 🌶️
calories: 9,410
🥐
You sat on your back atop your bed, flitting through the manga you asked to borrow from Levi, when a knock on the sound of your door creaking open grabbed your attention. The manga shut as you turned your attention to the intruder who didn’t even have the manners to knock, and you sighed when Mammon slinked into your room with several movies in his hands. Instead of greeting you, he plopped down in front of your TV and turned it on, ignoring you as you shuffled into a sitting position.
“A ‘hello’ would be nice once in a while, Mammon,” you said, and he swatted a hand at you without taking his attention away from the blue screen in front of him. 
A deep sigh left you as you stood from your bed, dizziness taking over you for a few seconds before you blinked a few times and walked over to Mammon. You braced your hands on your knees as you bent over to get a look at the collection of movies he had splayed in his lap, but he leaned forward to cover them from your vision.
“If you don’t tell me why the hell you barged into my room at 10 pm with a bunch of movies, I’ll kick you out and lock the door... after I steal my duplicate room key back from you,” you said when he opened his mouth to argue back.
At that, he shut his mouth, and he turned his head in your direction with wide, frightened eyes at your threat. You gave him a soft smile, but your eyes told him not to fuck with you. He barged in during your manga reading session, though you hadn’t been able to concentrate on the words and drawings as your pent up sexual frustrations begged for your attention. Frankly, the last thing you needed was Mammon coming into your room when all you wanted was to jerk off and go to sleep.
“The... The—ummm—No one else would watch movies with me. It’s-It’s not like I want to watch ‘em with you or anything. Ya got that?! You’re the only person I could think of that would be willing to watch ‘em with me. Not that you’re special at all! Just my last choice, okay? Don’t get any funny ideas, ya hear!” he sputtered out, face reddening as he avoided your eyes.
With a groan, you sat down on the floor beside him, noticing how his body jolted when your knee touched his leg. You stretched your legs out in front of you and leaned back onto your hands while you fixed him with an intrigued stare.
“Okay. I’ll entertain you for a bit. Not like I have much to do either way.” Your head rolled to the side as you watched Mammon fidget with the movies in his lap. You reached a hand into his lap to grab out a movie case. He tensed when your hand grazed his inner thigh, and you pretended not to see it, though the redness of his ears made you want to tease him some more. As you flipped the movie around in your hand, you hummed. “Isn’t this a horror? I thought you hated those types of movies.”
“I-I thought someone else would enjoy it. It was just a suggestion! I didn’t wanna try to overcome my fear of them or something like that. Don’t go spreading false information to any of the others, ya hear me!”  
You held up your hands in mock surrender, a deep chuckle making your chest bounce while he tried defending himself with a red face. “I won’t. I won’t. I promise!” 
He pouted at your reaction and snatched the movie out of your hand before throwing it onto your bed, and out of your reach. You opened your mouth to speak your thoughts, but Mammon grabbed a random movie from his pile of what looked like five movies—six including the discarded horror movie—and held it up. From the cover, it seemed to be an action spy movie, a man with his back facing the viewer as a woman held him close against her body with her face giving a sultry look while she held a gun up looking at you. He opened it and slid the disc out before he got onto all fours to crawl forward to the DVD player to put the disc in.
You leaned back and honed your eyes onto the curve of his ass through his jeans as he stuck it out while he inserted the disc, and you mentally slapped yourself when you imagined something else entering a place you wouldn’t speak of. The DVD player whirred as it sucked the disc in and read it, and before long, ads popped up. Mammon cursed as he searched for the remote, and you grabbed it from the table next to you to hand to him. Your hands touched each other when he took it from you, and the warmth from his fingertips lingered against your cool skin. This time, Mammon acted as if nothing happened, but the redness of his neck betrayed his embarrassment. 
As he skipped the ads and reached the title screen of the movie, you decided to ask the all important question. “Did you bring popcorn?”
In response, he reached into his jacket and pulled out two packages of popcorn, a serious look on his face as he scanned the screen. A chuckle left you that turned into full blown laughter with you clutching your stomach and rolling on the floor.
“What-what are ya laughing ‘bout?!” Mammon asked as he turned his attention towards your body, wondering what drugs you had taken.
“I didn’t expect you to actually have popcorn! And your face when you pulled it out!” You let out a series of breathy laughs, and you sat up and crossed your legs as you let your laughter fade out. “You didn’t have to look so serious! I thought you were planning how to knock me out and steal all my shit while using popcorn as your distraction.”
“Sh-shut up! I had to hide it from Beel or else he’d interrupt.” Once those words left Mammon’s mouth, his hands shot up to cover it, and he looked at you with wide eyes.
You tilted your head to the side as you watched his face redden even more than it was—which you didn’t believe to be possible. “Oh? So does that mean you didn’t ask the others before me?” When he shifted from side to side, you leaned in closer to his face, and he avoided your face. “Or am I reading too deeply into things? Was it just a slip of the tongue? Is there something Beel would interrupt going on here?”
“Just… Just be quiet! It’s nothing, all right?! You’re-you’re just reading too deep into what I-I said. I-Idiot!” he said, and his stuttering made your heart clench from how endearing you found it. You wanted to tease him more, but at the same time, you didn’t want to scare him off so that you could see how everything played out.
You’d be a good boy and comply with his wishes for a movie night, no matter how much your hormones raged on inside you and urged you to tease him until he became a sputtering, blushing, crying mess underneath you. Now your groin burned as images of a crying Mammon popped into your mind, and you groaned as you adjusted your sitting position. As Mammon stood up to pop the popcorn in your microwave, you grabbed his wrist and dragged his attention towards your figure on the floor. You thanked your oversized t-shirt for covering the raging boner you had now as he looked at you.
“I’ll pop the bags. You just ready everything else, okay?” you told him, relieved when he nodded his head and plopped back down onto the floor as you stood up. 
You hissed as you walked towards your microwave, your erection rubbing against your thighs as you moved, and you were glad Mammon focused on readying the TV and seats for the two of you to snuggle into. You shoved the first bag of popcorn into the microwave and pulled out a bowl to put it in. While you stood there, waiting for the timer to run out, you willed your boner to disappear, and you thought about Lucifer scolding you for taking part in Belphie and Satan’s shenanigans against him. That seemed to do the trick, for now at least, and the timer beeped. After emptying the bag into the bowl, you shoved the second package into the microwave. The smell of buttery popcorn wafted through your room, and you hummed in content before you emptied the last bag into a new bowl for yourself. As you readied yourself to walk over to Mammon, he looked over his shoulder at you, eyes already in puppy mode, and you sighed as you waited for his request.
“Could ya get some drinks too?” he asked.
“What? Where the hell would I get drinks from?” You grabbed the two bowls of popcorn and headed over to him. When you bent down to set them on the ground, he pointed towards the fridge in your room that tended to house yogurt or pudding that Beel asked you to hide from Mammon. You looked at Mammon through slitted eyes, and he gave you a smile that made you roll your eyes before you listened to him and walked over to your mini fridge. The moment you opened it, a pack of sodas greeted you, and you glared at Mammon who avoided your eyes. “When did you buy these and put them in here?”
“Well—ya see—the thing is....” he trailed off, and you put a hand on your hip.
“Mammon.”
At the no-nonsense tone in your voice, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you. “I bought ‘em a few days ago and snuck in while ya were sleeping to stash ‘em away.”
With an irritated sigh, you grabbed two cans and walked over to him to bonk him on the head with his. “That’s it. Gimme your copy of my key right now. Who knows what other shit you’ve done in my room while I’ve been asleep.” You sat down next to him and held out your hand, but the cool feeling of metal against your palm never appeared. 
Mammon shook his head and leaned away from you, clutching the side of his jacket, where you assumed he kept the key to your room. You let out a deep sigh and leaned towards him to snatch the key from him, but he leaned further away.
“I’m not playing your games, Mammon. Just give me the damn key,” you said, fed up with his lack of cooperation. Again, he shook his head, and you pushed yourself to your feet to tower over his sitting figure. He looked up at you with wide eyes, and you took his surprise as your chance to grab him and grab at his jacket to steal your key back.
“No! Ya ain’t getting it back! Over my dead body!” he said as he clutched his chest and twisted his body around to kick at you with pitiful hits that only served to distance the two of you and not stop your pursuit. 
You drew closer to him, and he leaned back, letting out a grunt as his back hit the ground. In that quick second, you jumped on top of him, pushing his legs down and sitting on them to keep him from kicking you. As you straddle his legs, you leaned over him and pried his hands away from his jacket. You held his wrist together above his head with one hand while you used the other to search his jacket. Your hand rubbed against his chest, and he pursed his lips and turned his head to the side, neck and ears burning red while his legs fidgeted underneath you. His body twitched when you ran across his nipple through the fabric of his shirt, and when you felt the cool metal of the key, you snatched it out and released his wrists and clambered off him before you did something you’d regret. 
“Got it. Now you can’t barge into my room in the middle of the night to watch me sleep,” you said, hoping a little joke would lightened the mood, but Mammon didn’t respond as he laid on the floor for a few more seconds before he sat up with a flushed face, fixed his crumpled jacket, and slid into his spot.
He grabbed his popcorn bucket and placed it in his lap, remote in hand. Without a word, he hit play and opened his soda, the fizzing pop of it echoing in the quiet room. Instead of pushing the issue, you stuffed the key into the pocket of your sweatpants and grabbed your own popcorn and soda to enjoy the movie. To be honest, you didn’t even remember what it was about as your mind busied you with images of Mammon blushing underneath you, body jolting as you ran your hands across the naked expanse of his chest. Your mind only registered flashing lights that flitted on the screen and mixed with yells. You couldn’t tell if Mammon was into it either with the way his eyes seemed hollow, as if he were looking through the TV. 
Before long, the movie ended, and he instantly shoved a new one in without saying anything. You didn’t complain, assuming he would be uncomfortable talking to you after the situation that transpired between the two of you a few hours before the first movie. He put on a romance movie next, and while you tried to focus on the story this time, the moment the two main characters kissed, all you could think of was you and Mammon kissing instead. You wondered how soft his lips would feel, if you’d be able to taste his chapstick or if he’d taste like popcorn and sickenly sweet soda, if he’d wrap his arms around your neck and press his body against yours, whether or not he’d use his tongue, or if he’d moan and squirm as you deepen the kiss. 
You grabbed a pillow from your bed and covered your lap with it, hoping to hide your boner from Mammon. His eyes focused on the movie though, and he reached into his bowl of popcorn to grab more, only to pout when he felt nothing. He had finished it an hour before and seemed to have forgotten. You, on the other hand, still had almost your full bowl of popcorn as you were too preoccupied with your dirty thoughts to eat any. You handed him your bowl of no-longer-warm popcorn, and he perked up to take it from you. A content smile came to his face as he shoveled more popcorn into his mouth, not caring if it wasn’t fresh. 
The credits greeted you the next time you blinked and exited your thoughts, and Mammon sat there, sniffling as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt. You didn’t know what he was sad over since you couldn’t focus on this movie either. You reached onto the table next to you, grabbed the tissues, and handed them to him. While he blew his nose, you checked the time, taking a deep breath when you saw that it was only 1:36 am. As Mammon reached for another movie in his stash, you grabbed his hand. 
“Why don’t we mix things up a bit?” you said when he gave you a questioning look. 
Before he could ask what you meant, you scooted back towards your bed, grabbed the horror movie off of it, and scooted back to him. His eyes zoomed in on the cover of it, and they widened as he shook his head. 
“Why not? We could help you get over your fear of them. Think of it like exposure therapy. I’ll also be here to fend off any scary monsters that are lurking in the dark,” you said, and he hesitantly nodded his head, looking a little relieved. You offered him a soft smile and put the movie in. 
A scream sounded when it started, and Mammon jumped, the kernels in the bowl flying out of it and hitting the floor. You gave him a worried look, unsure if it was a good idea now, and he only shook his head and focused on the movie. Whenever suspenseful music came on, his body tensed, and during jumpscares, he’d fling his body around out of fright. When he had one especially bad fright, you paused the movie and scooted over to him, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close to your body.
You rubbed up and down on his shoulder. He looked up at you, tears in his eyes. Your breathing stopped as you took in his disheveled appearance, teary eyes, and red face, and thoughts swam around your head and made your brain come close to short circuiting. Shallow breaths pushed through his lips as his chest moved up and down, and you swallowed thickly. Once he calmed down, he placed a hand on your thigh to push himself up, but it slipped, and your eyes widened when it brushed against your erection.
You turned your head towards him so slowly as everything felt like it was in slow motion. Mammon retracted his hand and shot up, and he stared back at you with wide eyes. The silence between the two of you resounded in your ears, louder than anything you’d ever heard before. Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to say something, but you couldn’t come up with anything to say. You were happy when Mammon said something, but his words were the last thing you’d expected him to say, only hearing them in your dreams.
“Do-do ya want some help with that?”
At the embarrassed tone in his voice, your body tensed. “What?” was all you could say, and you wanted to slap yourself for sounding so stupid.
“It looks painful,” he said as his eyes zoned in on your raging boner, and you realized he had knocked the pillow away from your lap in his haste to stand up.
“I-uh…” You couldn’t think of anything to respond with. You wanted to shout “Yes, please!”, but you didn’t want to scare him away and let him in on your carnal desires that revolved around him. “N-no! I can… I can take care of it myself.” The awkwardness in the room made you want to run into your bathroom to take care of it, but with the way Mammon kept staring at your erection, you felt that moving would be a bad idea. You grabbed the pillow and held it against your front as you stood up, Mammon’s eyes trailing up to your embarrassed face. “Good night, Mammon. Uh… See you tomorrow?” You wanted to jump into the burning pits of hell and die a painful death.
You tried to side shuffle your way to the bathroom, but before you made it far, Mammon walked up to you and pushed you down onto the bed. You let out a surprised grunt as your back sank into your mattress. The pillow disappeared from its spot covering your boner, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to see Mammon sitting on his knees between your legs. You sucked in a deep breath as he slipped his warm hands under your shirt and ran them across your torso. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip as he stared at the bulge in your sweatpants with hungry eyes, and your dick twitched.
He brought a shaky hand to the waistband of your sweatpants and boxers, and he dragged the both down, gasping when your erection sprang out in front of him. He grabbed the base of your cock in his hand, and his eyes trembled as he felt the heat from your shaft seep into his palm. His hesitation made you stop for a second.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Mammon. I can take care of it myself,” you told him, but he shook his head, fluffy white hair bouncing to show you his disagreement with your statement.
Mammon leaned in close to your dick, sucking in a deep breath when it throbbed in his hand, and placed a kiss to the smooth skin of your shaft. Your cock twitched at the feeling of his soft, warm lips against you, and the way he looked you straight in the eyes with hooded eyelids and irises burning with sexual desire made you want to take him right there
“I want to do it for ya,” he rasped, and you didn’t get the chance to answer before he licked a slow strip up your shaft while his thumb circled the tip, and your body flinched when his thumbnail scraped against your slit.
“Mammon,” you groaned as he pressed his thumb down against your slit, his soft lips working on the sides of your cock. You needed his mouth around you… now.
At the low, gravelly sound of your voice, Mammon squirmed in his spot on the floor, but he complied to your silent request. His thumb stopped circling your head, the warmth of his smooth lips soon replacing the rough pad of his finger. You let out a shaky breath as his lips parted, and warmth encased your tip as he slipped your length into his mouth. A hand grabbed at Mammon’s hair, and he groaned as you tugged at his roots, the vibration of his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure down your cock. 
“Shit…” you breathed out, and Mammon dragged his mouth back up to your tip while his tongue swirled around it and picked up the beads of precum that spilled from the slit. 
His cheeks hollowed as he sucked at your tip, and soft hums of content left his throat as the bitter taste of your precum reached his taste buds and spread across his tongue. You ran your fingers through his hair, the soft strands caressing the skin of your digits as he relaxed his jaw and pushed his head down further on your cock. You bit your lip as the warmth from his mouth hit your dick and made it twitch, and when your tip pressed against the back of his throat, you couldn’t hold back the loud moan as his throat clenched around your length. You wanted to shove his head further down on your shaft, but the tears in his eyes made you stop, and he pulled off you as he gagged. Coughs wracked his body, and you grabbed the sides of his face, thumbs swiping at the tears spilling from his reddening eyes.
“Are you okay? If it’s too hard on you, we can just move on,” you said. The way his body shook with each cough stabbed at your chest, and you were five seconds away from telling him to drink some water while you busied yourself in the bathroom, but he shook his head again.
He looked you dead in the eyes, determination flashing through them, and the breath caught in your chest. He scooted closer to you until your legs sandwiched him, and your cock stood directly in front of his face. His pink tongue flicked out to swipe across his thick bottom lip, and he took a deep breath.
“I just need to get used to it. I ain’t stopping unless ya tell me you want to,” he said, and you opened your mouth to respond.
With one hand, he grabbed your cock, and the other reached up to settle high on your stomach. He applied pressure with his hand on your stomach until you flopped back onto your bed, and he wrapped his lips back around your tip. This time, he took a deep breath through his nose before he relaxed his jaw and pushed his head down your shaft. His throat closed around your shaft, and you squeezed your eyes shut. After a few seconds, it relaxed, and you hissed as more of you slipped into his mouth. You covered your eyes with your arm, trying your best to yourself back from thrusting into his mouth. 
Before long, his nose bumped against your pubic bone, and he hummed at the feeling of your large cock sitting inside his mouth and throbbing against his tongue. You couldn’t stop your hips from thrusting upwards, and Mammon let out a surprised gag. 
“Shit! I’m sorry… I couldn’t hold it back.”
He breathed out through his nose to tell you it was all right as he settled himself back down until all of you was inside his mouth. He stayed there for a few seconds to let his throat adjust to your size, and he pulled his head up, a wet sucking sound following before he shoved his head back down and repeating it again. Your stomach and legs tensed as he sucked in slowly every time he pulled up, and you sat up to place a steady hand on the back of his head. Once he fully got used to feeling you entering his mouth, he sped his pace, head bobbing up and down as wet gagging sounds echoed throughout your room. 
The warmth of his mouth mixing with the pressure from his sucking made your high come to you faster than you would have liked, and you twitched inside his mouth, signaling that you were close. He looked up at you through his bangs, his yellow and blue eyes piercing into yours, saliva spilling from his lips as he bobbed up and down on your cock. Tears formed a shiny gloss over his eyes as lust twinkled inside them, and you couldn’t stop your body from tensing as you twitched in his mouth and released your cum. Mammon didn’t pull off no matter how much you tried to tug him off. A throaty groan left your throat as your body tensed as you released inside his mouth.
As you filled his mouth with your thick, warm cum, his body twitched, and a loud, muffled moan left him. You pulled out of his mouth as a final string of cum shot out onto his face, and he stuck his tongue out to catch what he could as he let out ragged pants. While your orgasm calmed down, you took the chance to look over him and his disheveled appearance. His silky hair stuck up in random directions, and a mixture of saliva and tears made his reddened face shiny in the lights of your bedroom. His jacket and shirt were crumpled, and as you dragged your eyes down further, you sucked in a breath.
“Did… Did you just cum from sucking me off?” you said in surprise as you noticed the stain in his pants, and Mammon nodded slowly as his hooded eyes stared right into yours, his hands swiping your cum off of his face and shoving it into his mouth as a blush spread across his cheeks and ears. He swirled his lips around his digits, bobbing his head on them to get every last drop he could from them, and you groaned at the sight, your dick springing right back up.
“Get on the bed,” you ordered as blood rushed down to your erection, and he didn’t need to be told twice before he slipped off his belt, climbed onto the bed, and laid on his back, legs spread and the bulge in his pants prominent.
As you looked at his wet lips and lustful eyes, you bit your lips and ran your hands along the dips in his waist until you grabbed his jacket and helped slide it off him. He sat up to let you slip it free from his arms, his face centimeters from yours and his breath fanning against your lips. You leaned forward to capture his lips, but he laid back on the bed, his shirt riding up to expose the smooth muscles of his stomach. You let out an irritated breath and jabbed the inside of your cheek with your tongue, but you didn’t stop raking your eyes over his figure. On your bed. Ready to be fucked by you.
The fact that the reason for your sexual frustrations laid in front of you, ready for you to fuck him senseless, still felt like a dream to you. Mammon noticed you losing yourself in your thoughts, and he grabbed the collar of your shirt to pull you down on top of him. As you braced your forearms on either side of his head, he pressed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened as you felt the softness of his lips rubbing against yours. A delicious shiver ran down your spine as you realized just how well your lips fit into Mammon’s, as if they were destined for each other. 
Your sexual fantasies took control of you, and while he softly kissed you, your tongue slithered between his lips and entered his mouth, eyes closing. He let out a surprised squeak that you swallowed and tensed underneath you as your tongue rubbed against his, but before long, he relaxed and let you swirl your tongue around his. Though the two of you had just eaten popcorn, his saliva tasted sweet against your taste buds, and you couldn’t get enough of it. Mammon fisted your shirt tighter as you deepened the kiss and licked inside his mouth, savoring the flavor of him as your mind clouded with lust. He shuddered when you licked his teeth, and his body warmed up underneath you until you could feel it through your clothes. When you pulled back to catch your breath and opened your eyes, your breathing stopped as Mammon looked at you with a red face, eyes hazy as soft pants pushed past his red and swollen lips.
“Fuck…” you said as your cock twitched in your pants, begging to be inside Mammon.
You dipped your head back down to recapture his lips as your hands ran underneath his shirt that exposed his stomach. Mammon’s stomach tensed underneath your cool hands, and he bit your bottom lip and tugged at it, letting out a content sigh as you rubbed his sides. The calloused skin of your hands caressed his smooth skin, and he shuddered underneath your touch as your hands slid higher up his body, pushing his shirt higher up on his body. Your thumb ran over his hard nipple, and he mewled, eyes screwing shut as his chest pushed up in the air until it rubbed against yours.    
Your arm slithered behind his back, pulling him closer against your chest while you twirled his nipple beneath your thumb. The soft pants he let out on your lips made it impossible for you to stop caressing his warm skin and pressing your lips to his. As you held him against your chest, your hand behind his back slid down until it brushed against the waistband of his jeans. He sucked in a breath as he clutched your face and kissed you, and you slipped your tongue back inside his mouth, your hand slipping beneath his jeans to ghost the rough pads of your fingers across the skin of his ass.
Mammon moaned at the warmth of your hand and thrusted his hips up, rubbing the bulge in his pants against your erection. You let out a shocked grunt at the feeling of him pressing against you, and you pulled away from him to sit back on your knees. He laid in front of you, shirt barely covering his chest as his nipples stood proudly in the air for you to train your eyes on and bulge painfully hard in his pants. A deep breath left you as you held yourself back from stripping him right there and taking him at once.
He decided to test your patience though when he trailed a hand up his exposed chest to his lips, dragging his bottom lip down while his other hand cupped your boner. He pushed himself back on you and ground against your boner, and you screwed your eyes shut, lips pursing to hide the groans that threatened to spill. Mammon didn’t like that, and he slowly circled his hips.
“Fuck, Mammon…” you breathed out, the lust in your voice dropping it an octave as his name rolled off your tongue to dance in his ears, and his teeth caught his finger as a light breath pushed from his lips at the way you said his name.
“Hurry up. I… I can’t take it no more, Y/N,” he said, hips still circling as the finger in his mouth trailed down to run over his boner, and you placed your hands on his hips to stop his movement. He opened his mouth to complain, but when you pulled him into a sitting position to slip off his shirt and throw it to the ground where it crumpled into a pile of cloth with his jacket, he zipped his lips and flopped back onto the bed. 
Your hands grabbed the waistband of his jeans after you unzipped it, and you tugged them free from his legs. He shuddered as the material of his jeans brushed against his sensitive skin. Your mouth ran dry as Mammon laid in front of you in nothing but his boxers, a thin sheen of sweat creating a shine against his warm tan skin. He propped himself up on his elbows and ran his eyes up and down your body. He pressed a foot against your boner, and you let out a string of breathy curses as the aching in your cock spread throughout your groin. You needed to be inside him, to feel his warmth squeezing you as he moaned in pleasure.
“Turn around,” you said as you grabbed his ankle to stop his foot.
“Wha- No. I wanna look at ya,” he said back, and you sighed, reaching into your bedside nightstand to grab out a bottle of lube you kept in there for reasons.
“I have to prep you first. It will be easier for you if you’re on all fours.” Before he could argue, you flipped him over until his ass stuck in the air.
Your tongue swiped across your bottom lip as you slid his boxers down his thighs. His body twitched when you grabbed his ass, and he groaned into your pillow as you kneaded the flesh of his ass in your palms. Your thumbs spread his ass apart until you saw his hole in front of you. It clenched around nothing, and you ghosted the pad of your thumb across it, loving the way Mammon shuddered beneath your touch.
“Hurry,” Mammon begged while you squirted lube onto your fingers.
“Patience, baby,” you said, the pet name slipping from your lips before you could stop it. 
Mammon’s face burned at the name, and he hid his face in your pillow. You smiled to yourself at the redness of his ears and neck that betrayed his embarrassment as you spread his ass with your lube-free hand. You swirled a lubed middle finger around his hole, and he sucked in a breath as the cold lube touched his skin. His entrance clenched, waiting for your finger to enter, and while you wanted to tease him for a while, the aching in your lower half told you to hurry it up.
“Are you sure you want this?” you asked him to make sure, finger still swirling around the skin surrounding his opening, and he peered at you over his shoulder with a groan.
“Why are ya asking it now? Just shove your fingers in. I can’t take it no more!” he told you with a grumble.
“I just want to make sure I’m not getting ahead of myself. Yes or no, Mammon. Do you want to continue?” you said as the tip of your finger scraped over his hole.
“Yes! Just hurry it up before I die over here!” he replied as he pushed his ass back in hopes of getting your finger inside of him.
 “Oh, we wouldn’t want you to die now, would we?” you drawled, and as Mammon opened his mouth to retort, you pushed your middle finger inside him.
He threw his head back as your finger pushed inside him, his walls tightening hungrily around it as his jaw clenched. You rested your forehead against his back as the warmth of him spread through your fingers. You could already imagine how he’d feel around your dick.
“Fuck, you’re so soft inside.” Your breath fanned across the bare skin of his back, and he shivered. When he didn’t respond, you jammed your fingers into his hole and watched him throw his head back and bite his bottom lip. The ease with which your fingers slid into him brought an image to your mind of Mammon fingering himself in preparation before coming over to you, and you licked your lips. “Did you prep yourself? You’re pretty loose already. Were you already anticipating this happening? 
“I... ain’t tellin’ ya!” he ground out through clenched teeth as you bent your fingers around inside of him. You smirked and ran your free hand along his thigh.
Soft pants left Mammon as you pulled your finger in and out of him, and you bit your lip as he clenched around you each time your finger moved. You added a second finger, and he let out a needy moan as your fingers rubbed against his walls. You spread your fingers inside him, scissoring him open as you thrusted your digits inside him. 
“Ah! Hah…” Mammon panted out as you sped up your pace. You angled your fingers downwards, and a high-pitched, drawn out moan left him as his body tensed underneath you.
“Found your sweet spot,” you said as you continued to shove your fingers inside him, adding a third one as you aimed for his prostate.
“Shit… Right-right there! Oh my-” He shoved his face into your pillow to muffle his moans, and you growled in annoyance.
While you fingered him, your free hand reached up to grab the back of his head, his white hair tickling your hand as you gripped the strands between your fingers, and you tugged his head back. He let out a shaky mewl as pain spread through his scalp and sent delicious tingles throughout his body. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face to his neck, where it hung from his Adam’s apple. His eyes screwed shut as heavy pants mixed with moans and spilled from his lips without stopping. 
Mammon pushed himself back against your fingers with each thrust, and you leaned forward to tilt his head to the side and capture his lips with yours. The inside of your mouth vibrated as he moaned into it, body tensing and hole clenching around you. You released his hair and reached a hand around to grab his dick in your hand. He let out a shocked choke as you ran your thumb over his tip, the nail of your thumb running over his slit and making his body jerk. Precum from his slit spread over his length and slicked it for you, and you flicked your wrist while you moved your fingers in and out of him. His body rocked back and forth, filthy noises leaving him every second as pleasure built up in his body. 
You squeezed his cock in your hand, and with a final thrust of your fingers, a slow, drawn out whimper spilled from him into your mouth as his body tensed and cum shot from his dick onto your bed. You flipped him onto his back, and he didn’t complain as his cum pressed into his back while he let out soft pants and tried to calm down from his orgasm. He watched as you slipped your shirt off, exposing your toned torso to his hungry eyes. 
The bed dipped for a second as you pushed yourself off it and walked to your nightstand to pull out a condom packet. As you stood there to grab a few—just in case you needed them—Mammon turned onto his side and grabbed the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging downwards. You chuckled as his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth while he focused all his attention on trying to strip you of your pants. With the condom packets in your hand, you complied with Mammon’s wishes and pulled your sweatpants down along with your boxer, and he sucked in a breath as your erection sprung out.
“You literally had this in your mouth several minutes ago,” you said.
“Well I didn’t get a good look at it then. Is… is that even gonna fit?” he asked as his eyes widened when your dick twitched.
“We can make it fit,” you replied, and he flopped onto his back again. “Are you sure you still want this?” You walked back to the bed, and it creaked as you got back on top of it.
“Y-yeah. It’s gonna hurt, ain’t it?” he asked, and you pursed your lips as his voice trembled a little.
You rubbed his thigh, swirling circles against his skin to calm him down. “I’ll do my best to make it as painless as possible. Just make sure you relax, okay?” 
He nodded, still a little hesitant, but the heat from your hand on his thigh eased his worries a bit. He spread his legs, and you slipped between them. You ripped open the condom packet and rolled it onto your cock. After pouring lube onto it, you poured some more on Mammon’s hole, and his body shuddered. You braced yourself on a hand as you held your dick with the other.
“I’m gonna put it in now,” you said as you looked into Mammon’s eyes, and he nodded while biting his lip, eyes trusting you fully. “Make sure you relax, babe.” After you spoke that pet name, you pressed your head against his entrance, not giving him any time to process the name that slipped past your lips. 
A sharp breath left him as his eyes squeezed shut, and his body tensed when his hole stretched to accompany the size of your tip. You peppered soft kisses against his chest, and he let out short gasps when your teeth nipped at his nipples. The veins on your neck bulged as you clenched your jaw, his tight hole sucking you in and squeezing your cock hard. As you pushed in deeper, Mammon’s back arched up from the bed as he pursed his lips and trapped a choked whine from leaving his mouth. His frantic hands grabbed your tensed jaw and yanked it up to stare at his face, and you let out a surprised noise as he crashed his lips into yours.
His hungry lips danced against yours, neither of you faltering as the pace quickened and turned sloppier, and you slipped his tongue in. His hands on your jaw fell down to grasp your shoulders, and he swallowed a soft hiss that left you as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, toes curling as your tongue swiped around inside his mouth and brushed against his in a sloppy, wet mess. While you distracted him with the kiss, you took the chance to pour more lube onto your dick before you slid yourself in more until you reached halfway.
Pain flared up in your shoulders as Mammon’s nails dug at your skin, but you ignored it when you remembered how much more pain he was in compared to you. Tears spilled from his screwed-shut eyes, and your heart hurt at the sight. You started pulling yourself out of him, ready to stop there and just finger him until he came, but as you slid out of him, he wrapped his legs around your waist and locked his ankles to trap you in.
“Don’t… Don’t pull out,” he ground out, and your eyebrows creased in concern.
“But you’re hurting, Mammon. I don’t want to hurt you,” you replied, and he shook his head.
“I’ll get used to it. I-I wanna feel ya inside me. Fully inside me. I’ll tell ya to stop if it becomes too much.”
 Though not fully convinced, you nodded, and he pulled you back down into another lust-filled kiss as you pushed yourself inside again. You let out a throaty groan as your pelvic bone hit against his ass, the full length of your cock nestling inside of him. Mammon mewled against you, your hot and pulsating cock a strange feeling inside of him that he loved already. You ran your hands along his sides, and you dipped your head down after pulling away from his lips to roll your tongue around his nipple. When his back arched as you nipped at his skin, your hand grabbed his free nipple and twisted it between the calloused pads of your fingertips. He cried out in pleasure, walls tensing around your cock, causing you to hiss against his skin.
“Didn’t expect you to be this sensitive,” you said as your tongue swiped over his nipple while you looked up at him, and his body twitched, soft pants escaping him.
“Shut… shut up!” An aching, drawn-out moan slipped from his lips when you pinched his nipple and nipped at the other one, and you grunted against his skin as he clenched around you. 
You wanted to move so badly, but you weren’t sure he had adjusted yet, and you weren’t about to make this experience horrible for him. The two of you stayed still for a few moments, Mammon’s hole trying to get used to the foreign object of your dick inside it while you practiced patience. Your neck veins popped as you willed yourself to not move. Heavy pants pushed past your lips as you screwed your eyes shut and felt a bead of sweat drip down your forehead before it hand from the tip of your nose. Mammon watched the bead of sweat hang on for dear life before it plummeted down onto his skin, and he pursed his lips. 
His entrance still burned where it took you in, but pleasure mixed with it and spread out from his hole until it coursed through his body, and he knew he needed you to move before this pleasure became unbearable. While you remained still above him, he pushed himself back against you and grunted as you slid in and out of him. The clenching of his walls and the groans leaving his mouth forced your eyes open until you looked down on him. His eyes looked down at where the two of you connected, mouth open as groans turned into soft moans, and his hands clutched the bed sheets as he pushed himself back and forth on you. 
“F-fuck… You’re-you’re gonna hurt yourself, Mammon. You haven’t adjusted yet,” you told him as you fought the will to slam into him as you watched his chest heaved up and down, perky nipples standing straight in the air and begging to be touched. 
“I don’t… give a… shit!” he ground out, and his body spasmed as your dick poked at a certain spot inside him. “Fuck!” he said as he shut his eyes and tightened around you until you felt ready to burst inside him. When you remained still, his eye flicked up to glare at you, and he locked his ankles behind your low back, pulling your hips towards him and pushing your dick deeper inside him. “Move.” 
The thin string of reason that held you together reached its final thread before it snapped, and you wasted no time in slipping your dick out of him before thrusting it back inside him, hitting his sweet spot. His back arched as he threw his head back on your pillow, exposing his neck to you. As your dick slid in and out of him, you bent your head down towards his neck to nip at the skin around his Adam’s apple, smirking against his skin when sharp breaths left him whenever your teeth caught his skin between them. 
You pulled back to admire the red blossoming against his skin around his Adam’s apple, and he covered his eyes with an arm as he noticed the proud look in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat, but he didn’t notice the feeling as pleasure replaced all the pain inside his body and built up deep inside him. Before he had come into your room, a deep itch inside him had taken his time as he tried anything he could to get it to stop, from the use of his fingers to any of the sex toys Asmodeus has given him, but only your dick seemed to reach the deep spot inside him that he desperately needed hit. His body heated up with each thrust into him until he burned beneath you and sent his warmth coursing through your body. 
Your hands grabbed his waist, and you pulled him back against your cock with each thrust, and his eyes widened as you slammed into his prostate. He reached his hands out to grab at his aching cock that begged for attention, but before his fingers could wrap around his shaft, you detached a hand from his side to grab his wrists and pull his hands away from his cock. He whined as you thrusted into him, precum leaking from his slit and spilling down the side of his desperate cock as he tried to yank his wrists free.
“Uh uh uh. I didn’t say you could touch yourself,” you told him, and Mammon glared at you.
“Ya dick,” he said, and you smirked.
“Well, that’s what’s inside you right now anyways.” 
He flushed and groaned as his hole stretched around your cock. His silence after your remark made you smirk at how cute he was, but at the same time, he looked so sexy as he sucked your cock up with his hungry hole.
“Are you sure you aren’t the real avatar of lust?” you asked, your eyes raking over Mammon’s appearance. Tears pricked the corners of his blue and yellow eyes, a shine coating them and making them shimmer, as saliva spilled from his open mouth that let out whines while he focused his attention on your cock sliding in and out of him. His hair stuck to his forehead as sweat coated his entire body and enhanced his lean muscles that contracted with each thrust of your cock. With your hand restricting his wrists, the redness of his face added to the fucked out look on his face, and your cock swelled inside him.
“Fuck, I’m close!” he cursed, fingers curling up as he tensed beneath you.
At those words, you switched your positions until your back rested against the bed sheets and Mammon sat on top of you. Your teeth caught your bottom lip as you looked up at him, his eyes hazy as his mouth hung open, saliva dripping from the corners as his dick twitched against his stomach. He let out a deep moan and leaned forward on top of you, resting his hands on your tense stomach as he adjusted to the new position. Your dick hit deeper inside him and reached spots he didn’t even know were possible, but he loved the feeling, especially when your cock pulsed inside him and begged for him to move. 
You rested your hands on his hips to help guide him as he started off slowly, lifting his hips up before he sank back down on your shaft. He threw his head back, mouth wide open as a silent moan wracked his body, your tip pushing deep against his walls. 
“It’s… so deep!” he gasped out as he lifted himself up one more time before plunging back down. His body trembled with pleasure, and you clenched your jaw as he tightened around you. 
He sped his pace up as he got used to your cock hitting deeper inside, and your hands on his hips moved down to grip his ass and spread it apart. His hole sucked you in, wet sounds echoing throughout the room as he moved his ass up and down your shaft. He laid down on top of you, his chest pressing against yours, and he pressed his lips to yours as you snapped your hips up to match each drop of his hips. You swallowed his moans, your tongue swirling inside his mouth. His pace became more frantic, and you knew he was close. His body tensed, cock swelling.
“I-I can’t anymore…” he panted out, pace slowing down as fatigue took over, and you flipped your positions one more time so that he laid underneath you. 
Without warning, you slammed yourself inside him, angling yourself so that your tip hit him in his prostate each thrust. His toes curled with pleasure as his body tensed underneath you, cock twitching and ready to burst. The build up of pleasure he had been experiencing threatened to spill out with each snap of your hips, and he bit his lips to hold back the long string of moans that wanted to escape.
“Don’t bite your lips. I want to hear you moan as you cum,” you said, and he obeyed at once, his teeth releasing his lips to let out staccato moans that were music to your ears. 
“I’m-I’m comin'!” he said as he pushed his head back against the pillow, hands gripping the bed sheets.
“Me too,” you grunted out as your cock twitched inside him, and when he squeezed your cock, you came undone inside him with a deep grunt.
As your cum filled up the condom inside him, Mammon let out a loud, drawn-out moan before his body tensed and shook with pleasure. His back arched off of the bed, stars dotting his vision as a wave of pleasure he had never experienced before washed over him. His toes curled, hand clutching the bed sheets and eyes screwing shut as he let out a debauched cry. Your mouth hung open as you watched his body twitched underneath you, hole clenching sporadically around your sensitive cock.
“Was that a dry orgasm?” you asked as Mammon’s body stopped spasming, no cum dripping down the side of his cock or against his skin.
His dazed eyes and twitching cock told you all you needed, and you gripped his dick in one hand. Your hand jerked up and down it, feeling his veins pressing against your hand with each motion. He twitched underneath you as overstimulation wracked his body, and he whined.
“N-no more. I can’t take anymore,” he said.
“Just a little more, baby. You need to let it out,” you told him, and he mewled when the nail of your thumb hit his slit. 
When his cock swelled in your hand, you tightened your grip on his cock and slid your hand up and down faster until his body jerked and a string of hot cum shot out of his tip. His cum splattered against his chest, and his hole squeezed you, and you groaned as you realized your oversensitive dick still settled deep inside him.
You rolled off Mammon as you pulled out of him and plopped onto the bed beside him. Heavy pants left him as he tried to return his breathing to normal while he calmed down from his high. Once his breathing returned to normal, you rolled onto your side and propped your head up on your hand to look at him. He flickered his eyes up towards you, and you licked your lips, your dick still pounding. 
“Let’s go for another round,” you said and gave him puppy eyes that he looked away from to not get suckered in. 
“But what about the other movies we didn’t- Ahhh!” Mammon didn’t get to finish his words as you pounced on him and peppered his body with kisses. As his soft gasps met your ears with each butterfly kiss, you realized something.
The rest of the movies would have to wait until another day.
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thatabitcryptic · 4 years
Text
Have the first chapter of the ficlet for the timestuck au :))
It’s about 1300 words
For context: Ford and Mabel have just convinced Fiddleford to help fix the time tape to get Mabel home. (This is set after fidds quit the project, Ford stumbled across Mabel on his way back from the diner- so everyone’s a bit of a mess but dad instincts kick in here yknow??)
———
Although the couch was much warmer in comparison to the frigidness of the basement, Mabel couldn’t help the cold pit that formed in her stomach. Things were starting to go in the right direction for getting back to her time but.. were they?
Ford and Mcgucket had been practically avoiding each other like the plague. Anytime either of them needed something from the other it was always Mabel who had to speak for them. Sure it made sense they were upset with each other but how could they possibly get her home if they didn’t even look at one another? Grunkle Ford refused to stop working in the basement so he could keep watch over the portal and Mcgucket’s terms of never having to enter it again.. how was she going to get them in the same room? They hated each other.
But then when she brought up the time tape why had Ford immediately jumped to needing Mcgucket’s help?? Ford was a smart guy, and not that she didn’t like the extra company but if her Grunkle had been so angry at his old friend why ask him?
And in the future when they had watched Mcgucket’s memories he didn’t sound mad at Ford, just that he had wanted to forget. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to hold grudges either. Well, future him at least.
The strange air between them wasn’t the only thing that was throwing her off though. The whole house was wrong. It didn’t have any semblance of a home; more of a very disorganised library.
The mystery shack had never been the tidiest place but even when she and Dipper had first arrived Grunkle Stan had the place in organised chaos. Everything had a place and each place made sense at least. Here it was sporadic with no order like Ford had stopped during the middle of something and started a new task leaving previous items cluttered amidst coffee cups and stacks of books.
It was wrong in so many ways and there were so many things she missed from home. Even the little things. The murmuring of tourists in the gift shop, the mouldy spots on the roof, the spur of a tool from wherever Soos was fixing something in the shack, the weird gross smell of Grunkle Stan, Dippers late night reading, Pacifica's sweet perfume, Waddles’ hooves clicking along the floor-
Tears welled in her eyes as she stared down at her blanket. What if she never saw them again? What if Grunkle Ford and Mcgucket were never able to get her back home? Would she have to grow up here? What if she never saw waddles again? His swishy little face, his curly tail that bounced when the toddled behind her-
And Dipper? Would the next time she saw him be when they were born?? Thirty years from now?
Mabel’s head spun; all this time travel made her nauseous. Her chest ached and her hands were hot from wringing them on the scratchy fabric. She couldn’t think straight. It was just the swirling thoughts of her fate in solitude. All she could hear was her rhythmic heartbeat pumping another reason to miss her time into the front of her mind.
Her sweater was too tight, her headband too sharp, her cheeks were itchy from the waves of drying and flowing tears-
“-lright there sweet pea?”
A soft southern drawl from her side snapped her back. Mcgucket.
She didn’t hesitate to launch herself towards the familiar tone and bury her face in his green jacket. It smelt like a strange mix of tobacco, grease and molasses but that was closer to home than the stale dusty air of her surroundings.
“Shh shh shhh shh, it’s okay sugar plum.” He ran a hand through her hair and softly untangled any knots. “Ya’ wanna tell me what’s the matter?”
Mabel’s mouth immediately burst open with bubbling incomprehensible sobs.
“I wanma go h-homemm, Dippmffft, grunkmplmh stamm,” she took a breath and looked up at him with blurred eyes, “m-my pett pig waddles and h-his face.” And then she pressed herself back into his side. Each breath she took shook her body but it was stifled by Fiddleford hugging her closer.
“Hmmmm, a pet pig huh?” He paused and tapped his fingers on her back in contemplation.
“Did future me ever tell ya’ tha’ I grew up on a hog farm?”
Mabel stopped for a moment to look up at him with a trembling lip. “N-no, I-I don’t think s-so?”
Mcgucket drew back with a faux sound of horror. “Well, I never! I can’t ‘lieve this feller’! Ya’ hav’ a pig and ‘e didn’t even offer some advice!”
Mabel smiled and rubbed her nose on her sleeve.
“Naw’ darlin’ here.” Fiddleford reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief for her.
“T-thank you.”
“It’s tha’ least I could do after withholdin’ my advice in the future, or is it before..” He chuckled and shifted to rest his chin on top of Mabel’s head. “I’ll have to remember to tell ya ‘bout it”
Mabel stiffened and wiped her eyes again but didn’t comment.
Maybe it was best not to ask her...
“Now waddles?” he hummed. “I gotta say Mabel that’s a mighty fine name for’ a pig I reckon. The little fellers do tend ta’ waddle about.”
“Y-yeah.” Her voice quivered in reply and she absentmindedly latched onto the sides of his jacket and pulled them in over herself. “He- I miss him.”
Fiddleford could feel Mabel beginning to shake again and he wracked his brain for something else to talk about. He may not have known her for very long but it was heart breaking for such a bubbly kid to be so disquieted.
“How does he fancy the banjo?”
“The banjo?” She turned and lifted her head to look up at him with big eyes and Mcgucket’s heart melted. Mabel may as well have been Stanford’s kid in his eyes, each little mannerism was instantly recognisable as one as Ford’s.
“Uh huh, piglets on the farm used’ ta’ love it! ‘Td help ‘em drift off ta’ sleep in a big stack.”
He grinned at Mabel’s gasp and the way her eyes lit up when she spun around to look at him.
“In a piggy pile?” she started to bounce with enthusiasm.
“In one ‘o the biggest piles ‘o piglets a‘round!” He poked her nose eliciting a giggle.
“Old ma- I mean Mcgucket can you pretty please teach me to play? I-I’ll uhh umm I’ll draw one of my famous catacatures for you!!”
Mabel’s energy was contagious but Fiddleford couldn’t help his knee from bouncing slightly as he sheepishly looked past her to the door.
“Oh uh not that’ I don’t want one of yer drawins’ girlie but I���m not uhh too sure that’s such a good idea, Stanford’s mighty busy at work an’...”
He looked down to see Mabel’s eyes were full of stars as she was practically buzzing with excitement that he hadn’t seen since he met her. Fidds couldn’t help but feel delight at the sight. Just like Stanford.
“Hehaha ‘lright but if we hear Ford comin’ up we ‘ave to hide my banjo ‘else I’ll never see it ‘tagain.”
“Ahh thank you thank you thank you!!” Mabel wrapped him in a tight hug and it was as though all her upset had been transferred into her keenness for a banjo lesson.
Fiddleford stood, and helped Mabel out of her cocoon of blankets before fixing his glasses.
“Ahaha okay okay hush now aha we’ve gotta’ be a bit more quiet kidlet.”
His smile faltered as he saw his hand rising to grip his hair, Mabel must have noticed too because she quickly held onto it and subtlety swung it back and forth as they went to collect the instrument.
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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years
Text
As Fate Would Have It
[1 / 5] 
Ghost
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The last time I saw him was July 16, 1392. It was also the day I died. 
--
➣ pairing/genre: idol!KTH x reader, past life au // feat. OT7 BTS
➣ word count: 1.3k (jus a lil bitty beginning)
➣ warnings/tags: this is gonna talk about death, but not in a super gruesome/direct way. we keep things pretty SFW over here
a/n: here we goooo! thank you guys for sticking around for this new series, I hope you enjoy it! as always, your comments, reblogs, and asks mean so much to me and really help more than you know to keep going. So please let me know how you feel about this new series! Enjoy! 💕 p.s. if you didn’t read the prologue I would recommend you do! 
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series masterlist || join the taglist
--
“This is a major downgrade,” you sulk while shivering beside a crowded bus stop.
           “Yeah, well,” Noa, your roommate gripes from your right, “at least you got to be royalty once. Quit complaining.”
           “I heard that Kate Middleton is on her third life, and she’s been royalty all three times!” Daeun chimes in from your left. She’s also shivering, clinging to a flimsy umbrella that’s doing a poor job of keeping the three of you safe from the rain.
           “Like what, born into royalty? Or did she manage to marry into it like this lifetime?”
           Daeun and Noa continue chattering away, throwing off multiple theories and speculating about Kate Middleton’s past lives. Of course it’s all guesswork; the details of previous lives are usually meant to be kept secret. However it provides a temporary distraction from the bad weather, which is all you can really ask for right now. Hopefully it will prove enough of a distraction to sway you from your rampant thoughts of last night’s dream.
           “Being born royal isn’t all that fun,” an elderly woman calls out as she ambles up from her seat to catch the approaching bus. It’s not the one you’re taking, that won’t be here for another couple of minutes. “My mistress saw a lot of sorrow in her day, and few remember her now. She deserved to be remembered, in my opinion. I owe her my first life.”
           You tilt your head, squinting a little as the woman gives a wistful sigh. A memory nudges you from the catacombs of your mind.
           “Who was your mistress?” The question falls from your lips before you can catch it.
           The woman blinks, smiling softly. It’s almost as though the mere thought of her past mistress brings her peace. “Iseul, the final daughter of the Goryeo dynasty.”
           The name carries a weight that comes crashing into you, both liberating and binding you to your memories. You’ve heard that name before, albeit centuries ago. And this woman…
           “Ja-young.”
           Two syllables, enormous power. The instant you utter them, the elderly woman gasps and drops her cane in shock. You rush forward, picking it up and placing it gently in her hands with a warm smile. There are tears in Ja-young’s eyes as you look at her, her old face creased with wrinkles and countless stories.
           “My…my lady…” Ja-young attempts to bow, drawing the attention of several onlookers. You grasp her shoulders, stopping her.
           “There’s no need to bow,” you reassure. “I’m just a girl now. I hold no power.”
           Ja-young shakes her head. “No, my lady. I- I owe you my first life! What you did for me-”
           “You would have done the same for me.”
           “Oh, my Lady…” Ja-young’s bottom lip quivers as she clutches your forearm with surprising strength. “My wish has been granted. For so long I’ve been waiting to meet you again. You look just as you did, all those years ago…how did I not see it sooner? So vibrant – you haven’t changed at all.”
           Noa and Daeun remain silent behind you, having experienced this before. It’s not your fault that nearly all your court from your first lifetime as the emperor’s daughter in the Goryeo dynasty have just so happened to be born within the same lifetime. Although, it does become a little odd when you cross paths with a gossipy maid or flirtatious errand boy in the produce aisle of your local grocery store.
           Life is funny that way. You’re on top of the world one moment, and living off of a diet of Mac n Cheese the next.
           “I’m happy to see you like this,” you smile. “You’ve lived a full life, it appears.”
           Ja-young inclines her head. “As I did in my first lifetime, so long ago. My Lady-”
           “I’m afraid that I’m just Hana now,” you gently correct. Despite the fact that you’re living in the 21st century, you still aren’t the most keen on the general public discovering your identity. Not when there’s potential danger still lurking out there.
           “Oh, if that’s the case then I’m Ma-ri now,” Ja-young – now Ma-ri says. “Hana, I’ve been praying for the opportunity to see you again. I’m running out of time now.”
           Time. It once seemed so infinite. And now it’s slipping through your fingertips faster than you can keep up.
           “You’ve made it to your fourth…?”
           Ma-ri nods solemnly. “And final lifetime. But I wanted to tell you, my Lady, that I kept my promise to you. I visited your grave often, I told my children stories of you. However, I wasn’t the only one who frequented the site.”
           You jump as the bus driver lets out a shrill honk, clearly impatient. Ma-ri turns around, waving him on. With a shrug and an eye-roll, the bus driver closes the doors and continues on his way. Now the bus stop is empty save for your party of four.
           “Who else visited me?” You ask, curious now at the gleam in Ma-ri’s eye. She had always been a feisty one, if you remember correctly.
           An invisible shudder runs through Ma-ri’s body as she finally delivers the message she’s waited three lifetimes to deliver. Indeed, she can pass on to the unknown now that she’s finally laid eyes on her mistress once more.
           “Sungho.”
--
           “Kim Taehyung is not a murderer!” Noa defends, crossing her arms protectively as you clench your jaw.
           “No, but Sungho was. And they’re one and the same, aren’t they?” You mirror her, also crossing your arms. “Aren’tthey?”
           Your eyes flicker across the street, toward a billboard that lauds a BTS sponsorship for all to see. However, all you see is Sungho, smiling down at you with those same dark eyes from centuries ago.
           Ma-ri left just a few minutes ago, catching a bus and leaving you with a scribbled address to visit anytime you wanted. You tucked it away safely into the pocket of your jeans before losing your mind.
           “Hana, I don’t think you should be directing your anger at Taehyung,” Daeun quietly interjects, standing just off to the side. “He’s done a lot of good in this life-”
           “You’ll understand when you’re older!” You grind out. Noa winces, but begrudgingly agrees.
           “Yeah…sorry Daeun, but you’re a first-lifer. You’ll understand the next time around. It’s hard to separate people from what they were before.”
           Daeun doesn’t argue, knowing it’s pointless. Living with seasoned lifers, as people who have lived multiple lives have been so lovingly dubbed, doesn’t allow much room for argument. Noa sports two past lives, enjoying her third. And you…
           “Is this really how you wanna live this life?” Noa says, arching a brow. “Angry at some idol philanthropist just because of what happened in your first life? C’mon, Hana. That was three lifetimes ago.”
           “You’re not suggesting that I get over it, are you?”
           “Well…”
           “Nuh-uh,” you take a step back, offended. “No way. Goryeo fell, I died, and he was there to watch everything burn to the ground. And I’m just supposed to let it go all because he’s some adored global icon?”
           “YES!” Both Noa and Daeun shout, sending a few birds flying from a nearby bush.
           You pause to think, staring daggers up at the billboard and Taehyung’s flawless features. Perhaps you would find him beautiful if it weren’t for the past marring your current viewpoint. You stare and stare, mind whirring with the possibilities of all that you could do instead of forgiving.
           “It’s no use sitting here and sulking about the past, not when I can’t do anything about it…” you start, ignoring the relieved expressions on your roommates’ faces.
           “Good, that’s good.”
           “But…”
           “No, back up. You were doing so well!”
           The corners of your lips turn up into an evil grin. “…I have an idea.”
           Daeun groans. “What’s the stupid idea now?”
           You shake your head, stepping forward as the bus rounds the corner. “I’m not telling you.”
           “Why not?”
           “Because you’ll try to stop me.”
           Noa elbows you lightly. “At least tell us what your end goal is here.”
           The bus pulls up, doors opening and a flurry of people pouring out onto the street. In the din and chaos of it all, you turn to your friends.
           “If you can’t beat them…” again, your eyes fall on the billboard, quickly finding Taehyung’s eyes among the rest. “Join ‘em.”
--
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tastyykpop · 4 years
Note
a holiday drabble smut w chanyeol would be appreciated cause a bitch misses him 😔 (it’s me, i’m bitch)
Me too though 😔💔
ᴄᴏᴏᴋɪᴇs
Pairings: chanyeol x reader
Genre: smut, fluff
Warnings: some d/s themes, its pretty soft and cute because its Christmas, unprotected sex, y/ns an innocent bitch, maybe a small😳🤏corruption kink
This was longer than I planned to write-
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"Chanyeol the cookies!"
"cHaNyEoL tHe cOokiEs!" Your boyfriend mocked before you shoved your elbow in his side, making him laugh and stumble away from you.
"I'm serious," you sounded like you were lying because you were laughing along with him, "You're gonna make them too liquidy if you put too much milk."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He placed the cup of milk down on the table next to the bowl of mix, "Its not like you wouldn't be able to fix it anyway." Chanyeol shrugged, suddenly moving behind you to give you a back hug, but also leaning almost all of his weight on top of you too.
"Yeah but they have to be good for Santa...and my parents, but mostly for Santa!"
Chanyeol lifted his head off your shoulders and raised a brow, even though you couldn't see it, "Santa? What are you twelve?"
You stopped rolling the dough and froze, "Wha- yes Santa! Who do you take me for!? And why are you on me im trying to bake!??"
"Cuz I'm bored, for one, and two," he paused, did he really wanna break your heart and tell you the truth or did he want to be a good boyfriend and go with it? "Santa isn- is gonna love these cookies even if they turn out bad!" Chanyeol changed his mind and somehow made himself more believable when you smiled, jumping up a bit, but most importantly rubbing against him.
"Really!? Yayy~ Now hurry up and help, its almost 9pm!" You went back to rolling, but chanyeol didn't move, he was too focused on the fact that you were unaware of your ass grinding against his now growing member. Chanyeol really just wanted to bend you over the counter since you made him hard during a sweet bonding time, he wanted to ruin your innocence so bad. "Chanyeol."
He shook his head, not realizing you were staring straight at him, "Huh? What?"
"I said are you okay, you haven't even done what I asked and were staring off into space." You stared at the older man, wondering why he looked suddenly uncomfortable and red.
"I-im fine but...I need help with something." He blurted out, cursing himself for saying it so quick.
"Whatever it is, can't you wait till after? I need to put the cookies in." You looked back at the cookies, still slightly brushing against his boner without realizing and bent down to open the oven. He moved out of your way but he definitely felt your ass against his boner. Chanyeol was trying to hold it in, but it was becoming too much.
How could someone be so innocent? Chanyeol wondered to himself.
Chanyeol placed his hands on your hips when you stood back up, you thought he was just being his regular loving self so it didn't affect you in any way until you felt chanyeol kiss up and down your neck.
"What now?" You groaned, trying to brush him away but chanyeol grabbed your chin softly making you tilt your head the other way. "C-Chanyeol?"
"You trust me right?" He whispered waiting for a small nod which you gave him, "Good because I really need you right now, babe."
"B-but the cookies-"
"They're fine." He mumbled against your neck. You gripped the counter, trying to wrap your head around your boyfriends sudden horniness. "You're so cute y/n." Chanyeols lifted your shirt enough to explore your body with his curious hands, groping your breasts softly just to hear your small whimpers.
"C-can you please j-just..." you let your voice fall, too shy to tell your own boyfriend what you wanted. Its not like you haven't done this with him, but your so inexperienced unlike him.
"Can I just what? You have to talk to me pretty girl." You blushed, ignoring the way chanyeol easily slid off your Christmas pajama pants along with your shirt and underwear in a heartbeat.
"I want you to...f-fuck me?" Chanyeol lifted you up to seat you on another counter that didn't have the cookies on it, before raising your brow at your unsure self.
"Are you sure?" You quickly nodded, "Don't nod, speak."
A frown settled on your face, you didn't understand why you had to open your mouth when you already gave consent, "Yes, please."
Chanyeol was set and took his aching hard cock out, lining himself at your wet entrance before pushing himself in. "Fuck.., you're so tight, princess." He grunted, throwing his head back as he slowly pushed all the way in and started thrusting.
"Feels...s-so good." You moaned, face burning from how much you really enjoyed it.
Your boyfriends hips moved like a piston, fucking you fast and deep as you both moaned at the feeling. You loved how dirty it felt to be fucked right in the kitchen where anyone could walk in. It made you excited.
Chanyeol dug his nails in your legs, your nails scratching his back as he pounded into you. Each thrust was brushing your cervix ever so softly and you couldn't help but whine. It was intense for someone so innocent like you, but you knew once this all ended, it would be euphoric.
"Pl-please, i-im so full." You mumbled and bit into Chanyeols neck to keep yourself from screaming in pleasure, he hissed when your teeth sunk into his skin though it wasn't enough to draw blood.
"You love my cock, right princess?" Chanyeol went faster, if possible, and you hummed against his neck, but he took you by the hair and pulled you off him, "i wanna hear you say it."
You whined and shook your head, "i-i cant! It's em-embarassing.."
"Its only me, nothing to be shy about." He slowed his hips, barely moving at this point only now wanting hear you speak.
"N-no wait keep going please!" The legs around his waist tried pushing him back in but he stood his ground, still waiting.
"Say it, and then I'll make you cum all over my cock after."
Heat rose to your cheeks and you huffed, "....I l-love your c-cock.." this made him smile and coo at your cuteness. Chanyeol began again, gripping your hips and pushing in and out bringing you closer and closer to the edge. There wasn't a time where you weren't moaning with him, he was so good at pleasing you.
"You're such a good girl for me." He captured you lips in a heated kiss, biting your lowered lip every chance he got before pushing his tongue into your mouth. It was sloppy and so were his thrusts. That's how you knew he was close and you wanted to say something but he seemed to read your mind, "Cum for me, princess."
You didn't need to be told twice. You easily came around his length, blushing and squirming on the counter as your bliss slowly faded and Chanyeol was left, pulling out and finishing himself. He quickly came on your stomach, loving the way it dripped down you sweaty skin.
"So cute." He pinched your flushed cheeks. "But, do you smell burning?"
Your eyes widened before realizing you forgot the cookies in the oven, "Th-the cookies," you lifted a small shaky finger at the direction of the cookies.
Chanyeol, after lifting his boxers up, rushed to the oven. Turning it off, he took the now burnt cookies out, "Good thing we have more dough.."
"But those were for Santa." You cried.
"God, you're so innocent y/n."
Your head fell down to the mess on your stomach, still embarrassed yet not as much as before, "I'm not that innocent."
"You believe in Santa."
"What? Are you saying he isn't real?"
Chanyeol said nothing except press his lips into a small line.
"What!?"
Your heart may have been crushed and you may have felt like crying before your boyfriend spoke, "Merry Christmas!"
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earthfire-75 · 3 years
Text
You Send Me Flying
Chapter Two:
Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta’d by @lady-jane-revisited. Based on The Dirt movie as I still don’t have the book ☹️ not smut…yet.
Vince came back after a few minutes and found us still in the kitchen. “Hey, guys, listen, she wants to go home-“
“What? No way! We still have to practice!” Nikki spoke up.
“Jesus H. Christ. If I wasn’t fed up with her shit before, I am now. That woman fucks with my nerves and doesn’t bother with a courtesy reach-around. She can take a cab, for fuck’s sake, or call her daddy.”
Nikki points over at me. “I like her, she can stay. Your girlfriend on the other hand…”
Vince sighs. “I’ll see what I can do.” He leaves to go talk to her again and we can hear her yelling through the door. It takes longer, but Vince does eventually come back in. “Ok guys, she’s gone.”
Everyone gave a sigh of relief at that announcement. For the remainder of the day, the boys continued with playing more songs until the sun began to set. We were all feeling a little peckish and so we decided to call in a phone order for Chinese food. After the food arrived, we sat round the coffee table to eat, Nikki passing out notebooks and pens to Tommy, Vince and Mick.
“Ok, so here’s my theory,” Nikki begins, “if we wanna knock people on their asses, then we gotta give ‘em a show. The Punks, they’re doing the minimalistics, so let’s take it in the exact opposite direction. I’m…I’m talking like stadium shows in the clubs, man. Like costumes and lights-“
“And pyro! With flames and explosions and shit!” Tommy interrupts, turning his can of hairspray and lighter into a makeshift torch.
“Exactly, exactly! Look, it’s a fuckin’ war out there, and the only way we win is by showing these kids something they’ve never seen before.”
“So what do we call this thing?” Vince asks.
“Here…” Nikki picks up his notebook and starts flipping through the pages. “It’s all about being larger than life!” He finally holds up his notebook for us to see a pentagram with X Mass under it.
“X Mass?” Vince asks.
“Yeah…”
“On a scale of one to ten…I give it a one point nine.” Mick intones, making the other three laugh.
I shook my head in feigned anguish, “That’s harsh. Accurate, but harsh!”
Mick just shrugs.
“It’s a play on Christmas! You know, you can use all the Christ imagery and shit! It’ll piss people off and make people think, you know?”
Tommy makes a face and I could tell Mick still wasn’t convinced.
“It’s got shock value…”
Vince shook his head.
“Yeah, I’m shocked by how much it blows.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Mick has some wicked wit. Which, by the way, does nothing to cool down my attraction to him as we sat around the table.
Nikki tossed the notebook down, “Alright, assholes, you give it a shot. But make it big!”
Everyone picks up their notebooks and a pen or marker. Vince looks like he can’t come up with anything, and I find myself entranced by Mick’s look of concentration, but Tommy is quickly scribbling in his. When he’s done, he turns it around. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Tommy’s childish giggle was enough to confirm I wasn’t seeing things. Vince laughed and Nikki scoffed while Mick rolled his eyes.
“Still have the mind of a twelve year old, I see. As well as the body.”
“Ouch…and she says I’m the harsh one.”
“The Foreskins? Really? Tommy?”
“Yeah! Cause we’re gonna fuck the audience in the face every night, dude!”
“Yeah, but…but can you see that shit on the marquee above the Forum?!”
“Yeah, ok, you’re right. I’m out.”
Vince holds up his hands, indicating he’s not even gonna try. But Mick starts to write something down thoughtfully. The guys seem impressed when he turns the notebook in his hands. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this day.”
“Alright,” Nikki says, taking the notebook from Mick and adding to it, the dots over the O and changing crew to Crue with the dots over the U. Mick smiles with satisfaction. It’s the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen and damn if I wouldn’t fall head over heels if I stuck around. And yet…
“Hey, you were talking about costumes before. Does that include makeup?” I asked Nikki before I could stop myself.
“Yeah! Yeah! All that shit!” Nikki enthuses. “Why, you know someone who can do that?”
I just smile and point at myself.
“No shit?”
“Yeah,” Vince pipes up, “she’s getting her makeup artist license. She’s perfect for the job!”
I smile, “Well I do need a job, and based on what I’m hearing, I am getting a few ideas in mind as to how you could all dress. I mean, if you’re interested in what i have to say.” I grabbed the notebook and pen to create a quick sketch of possible outfits or makeup. The guys were interested, some even suggesting to add their own ideas as to what they could wear too. Talks of leather, tight pants, belts, and a bit of heavy make up were tossed around, “Nikki you said that you guys want to go all out? This is how you do it.”
Mick rested his chin on his palm as he looked over the drawings, “That’s pretty wicked actually.”
I felt my cheeks becoming warm after hearing his compliment, and who else but Tommy proceeded to tease me with a schoolboy-ish tone, “Oooooh!”
“Fuck off Tommy!” I shouted, hitting him with the notebook, although that hardly affected his immature outburst when he made a puckered up kissing face. “You’re such an asshole!” I stood up and headed towards the balcony to cool off. Once I was out there, I took out my lighter and pack of cigarettes. The stupid thing wouldn’t light up, it had to be low on butane. I chucked the lousy device into the street and rested my elbows onto the steel bars, letting out a frustrated huff.
The night was warm, typical of most any night in the City of Angels. The street lights were already glowing bright, except for one near the end of the street that’s blinking. The light’s trying its very best to burn bright this evening. The sound of approaching footsteps are of no concern to me, instead I kept my eyes on the concrete ground below me. A clicking noise caused me to turn around, there’s Mick with a lighter in hand, the flame burning bright. He brought it close to my cigarette and, after inhaling the harsh, familiar taste of tobacco in my mouth, I thanked him.
“You alright?” Mick wondered, standing by my side.
I simply shrugged my shoulders, “It’s whatever, Tommy’s always been like that for as long as I’ve known him. I don’t really care anymore.”
“You sure about that?” he asked nonchalantly.
I scowled at him and spat back, “Why do you care?” I took another drag and puffed out a cloud of smoke to him.
He raised an eyebrow and then headed back inside. A part of me was kicking myself for responding back at him like that, yet I was reminding myself that I had more important matters to focus on. Quite frankly, he shouldn’t have been one of them.
@nature-and-music @lady-jane-revisited @mickmarstookmyheart @gothicfuneralsblog @sophiazeppelinchick
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