#i made the ‘trying to groom an old guy’ one all the way back in august

[bluvlet]

trolley problem text posts part 2 (part 1)

[mrsimpurity]

Perhaps some sfw and nsfw alphabet headcanon for Wolverine?

hi anon! ty for the request

nsfw alphabet with logan

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

king of aftercare!! prepare yourself for snuggles. logan  smothers you in kisses, carries you to the bathroom and sets you down in the bathtub himself (he’ll join you if he’s up for another round ;) )

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he loves everything about you, but he’s undoubtedly a thighs man. and not only when it comes to your thighs of course, because he likes to remind you of that one time you were so desperate, you got off on his thigh..

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

no questions asked, logan’s gonna cum inside you (with consent ofc). he’ll spread your legs and push it back inside as it drips out, letting you lick up the remnants of his release on his fingers.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

sometimes, logan waits for you to get out of the bathroom so he can take a shower, because he sees that you’re tired and he’s not too sure he can contain himself if you’re both in there.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

let’s be honest, logan’s over 200 years old, he’s more than experienced. but you don’t mind that. he’s yours and he’s made it clear, so his experience can only benefit you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

logan loves fucking you in missionary. sure, you riding him is more than nice, but there’s no better feeling than being able to tower over your body as he makes love to you. it makes him feel like a protector, and in return makes you feel safe, especially because you both enjoy the eye contact.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s not really the most serious guy during sex, he’ll definitely let out a chuckle or two, especially when you won’t stop squirming and moaning at his teasing.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

logan is definitely hairy, but the two of you have no problem with that. he’s well groomed down there despite of his hairy chest (you like to tease him about it, but it’s definitely a fav of yours).

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

oh logan doesn’t fuck, he makes LOOOVE. this is one of the most important factors in his relationship with you. he notices if something’s off and communication is key, so sex is definitely the best way for him to apologize, blow off some steam or just show you how much he loves you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he doesn’t do it very often. likes “saving himself for you”. also, he finds it pointless. he’s not a teenager, so if you’re not in the mood or just not feeling okay, masturbating or sex in general is the last thing on his mind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

breeding kink for suuure. just the thought of you filled with his warm cum, or perhaps with a swollen belly, carrying the result of the love between you guys.. he keeps it to himself but you’re pretty much aware of it by now, with all the times he’s come inside you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

besides the bedroom, of course, logan loves taking you on the kitchen counter. sometimes it’s solely for your pleasure, but the thought of you splayed out for him on the kitchen island in just your bra definitely gets him worked up.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

this one is a no brainer - he loves it when you’re not wearing a bra. this happens only when the two of you are home alone, but it always ends up in the bedroom, especially when you’re wearing that satin cami top of yours, tits spilling out of the flimsy piece of clothing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he doesn’t have any hard nos, he’s comfortable with whatever you’re comfortable with, but he’s a little too afraid to try breath play (he’s scared he’s gonna hurt you, the 6’2 hound of a man he is).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

logan is definitely skilled, his tongue has you needing to be kept down with the palm of his hand on your stomach. he loves watching you squirm and moan as he sucks on your swollen nub.

he doesn’t need you returning the favor, or at least he’d never actually voice it, though the sight of you on your knees, bobbing your head along the length of his cock is definitely engraved in his mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it depends on the situation, but logan’s never actually rough with you, hence why he’s a little too hesitant to slap and push you around, even after you stated multiple times that you were alright with it. that’s just the way he is.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

logan’s not a huge fan of quickies; except for when you’re heading out with a tiny skirt.. trust, he’ll pull it up, come inside of you and fix you up, putting your shoes on and delivering a gentle slap to your ass as you walk out the door. “come on, bub, you don’t wanna be late, do you?”

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he has no problem experimenting. in fact, he himself suggested that he tie your hands during sex one night and you were appreciative of the idea so that definitely helped the both of you relax a bit.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

your pleasure is of utmost importance to him. he’ll make you come on his fingers or tongue at least once before he even thinks about taking his cock out of his pants. he’d never overwork you though, so your limits are his limits as well.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn’t use toys, he finds them pointless. “what, my fingers ain’t enough, bub?”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

logan is a teaseee, i’m telling you. one time, he made you finger yourself while he watched. “come on, doll, you can do better than that. put a second finger inside.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

logan definitely lets out a few occasional grunts and curses when he’s deep inside of you. “fuck, you feel so good, baby.”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he loves it when you cockwarm him. sometimes it’s just the two of you snuggling on the couch, covered by a mere blanket, but the closeness of the act has his mind going hazy.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

his abs are to die for. whenever the two of you are making out, you put your hands there to steady yourself and to feel him. logan loves the way his body has you going crazy.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i’d say it’s pretty high. most of the time you’re the one to initiate stuff though. logan likes to tease you about it and he lets it be that way not only because he likes seeing you embarrassed, but because he wouldn’t want to push anything on you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he never falls asleep before you!! one time, you were convinced logan sang you to sleep, but he denied it the next morning. to this day, you still remember him humming some lullaby while tracing soft circles on your back.

[cece693]

I Don't Need A Gentleman

pairing: edward cullen x gender neutral reader tags: edward is old fashioned and kinda a prude, the reader is not, reader doesn't want vanilla sex anymore, alice and rosalie are cool sister in laws

You lounge on the massive, cream-colored couch in the Cullens’ living room, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone as Alice and Rosalie flip through a stack of fashion magazines. It’s one of those rare, lazy evenings—no imminent threats, no pressing vampire drama—just the family scattered around the house doing their own thing. Alice bumps your foot with hers. “You’re weirdly quiet today. Seriously, what’s up?”

You look up, tapping the phone against your knee. “It’s kind of about Edward.”

Rosalie arches a perfectly groomed brow. “What did our golden boy do now?”

Your cheeks—if they still could—might blush. “He didn’t really do anything wrong, exactly. It’s just…” You pause, gathering your thoughts. Even though you’ve been married to Edward for a while, it can still be tough to put some things into words. “He’s super considerate, and I adore that about him. But sometimes—okay, a lot of times—I just wish he’d show a little more…passion? Fire?”

Alice makes a sympathetic face, setting her magazine aside. “He can be a bit old-school, yeah. He has that ‘eternally seventeen’ gentleman thing down to a T.”

“Tell me about it,” you huff. “I’m a vampire, too! I mean, I’m not exactly made of glass. But he keeps treating me like I’m this delicate flower that might crumble if the wind blows too hard. I swear, sometimes our kisses feel like little pecks—like he’s worried I’ll spontaneously combust if he lingers longer than three seconds.”

Rosalie leans back, crossing her arms. “Look, Edward’s always been overly cautious. It’s one of his most annoying…okay, fine, endearing qualities. But you can’t blame him for wanting to protect you. He’s basically built that way.”

You sit up straighter, pushing your hair out of your face. “Totally. I get it. I love how he’s protective, and, well, a total gentleman. But I need more of that oomph. Y’know, that feeling where you just can’t keep your hands off each other.”

Alice snorts a laugh. “I never thought I’d hear you say ‘oomph.’ You should definitely say that to Edward’s face. He’d probably blush so hard, if vampires could blush.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “But how do I bring it up without hurting his feelings? He’s so sensitive. The moment he thinks he’s made me even slightly uncomfortable, he clams up.”

Rosalie sets the magazine aside with a little thump. “You’re married. He can handle the conversation. Trust me, you should be honest about it. Being in love for, what, decades? That means talking about the hard stuff, or the passionate stuff.” She smirks at that last part.

Alice nods enthusiastically, tucking her legs up beneath her. “The best way is just to be straightforward. Tell him how you feel without making it sound like he’s doing something wrong. Emphasize that you love his old-fashioned side—it’s part of why you married him, right? But also make it crystal clear that you want him to dial up the heat. You’re a vampire, for crying out loud, not some breakable human.”

You exhale, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “You guys are right. I’m probably overthinking it. I’m worried he’ll take it the wrong way, but I can’t just keep ignoring how frustrated I am.”

“Exactly.” Alice taps your knee again. “He’ll listen, especially if you remind him that you still love all the things that make him Edward. He just needs to hear that you want him to trust your strength, too.”

Rosalie stands, stretching with the fluidity of a cat. “And if that doesn’t work, just throw him up against a wall somewhere. That’ll get the point across.”

Alice gasps in mock horror. “Rosalie Hale! That’s your brother you’re talking about.”

She smirks. “Hey, I’m just saying, sometimes subtlety isn’t the answer.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Let me try talking first before I start tossing him around.”

Alice and Rosalie share amused glances as you stand, giving a quick wave. “Thanks for the advice, seriously.”

“Anytime,” Alice sings out.

“Go get ’em,” Rosalie adds, winking.

You head up the stairs to find Edward, heart fluttering in that familiar way only he can cause, despite both of you being, well, undead. He’s in his usual spot in the family’s library, flipping through a thick novel—something old and fancy, undoubtedly. The moment he senses you, he glances up with a small smile, eyes full of that unwavering devotion.

“Hey,” you say, crossing the room until you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Got a minute to talk?”

“Of course,” Edward responds softly, setting the book aside. He tilts his head, concern flickering in those golden eyes. “Is everything all right?”

“It is,” you reassure him, settling in beside him on the velvet couch. You can still hear Alice’s and Rosalie’s voices drifting faintly from downstairs, but you focus on Edward. “I just wanted to share something that’s been on my mind, and it’s really important to me.”

He nods earnestly. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Taking a breath, you gently place your hand over his. “So, we’ve been together for a long time. We’re married, and I’m a vampire—just like you, right? But sometimes I feel like you’re handling me with kid gloves. I love your gentlemanly side, and I’d never want you to completely lose that. But I want us to be able to express our love passionately, without you worrying so much that I’ll break.”

Edward’s gaze drops to your entwined hands. “I—I see,” he says quietly. “I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t my equal. It’s just…I can’t shake the habit of worrying you might be hurt or regret something if I let go too much. Even though you’re stronger than any human I once knew, it’s hard to override decades of caution.”

Leaning in, you brush a gentle kiss against his cheek. “I know. And I respect how deeply you care. But hey, my strength is legit.” You grin, flexing half-jokingly. “I promise, I can handle more. And if something’s too much, I’ll tell you.”

Edward’s lips curve into a small smile. “Thank you for being honest with me. I guess I needed a reminder that I’m not the only one in this relationship who has a say—especially when it comes to showing affection.”

Your heart (metaphorically) flutters at the genuine warmth in his voice. “Exactly. I love being with you, and I don’t want you to hold back. We can figure out the balance, you know, do the old-fashioned courting stuff, but also, I don’t know…maybe occasionally break the furniture?”

His eyes widen for half a second in surprise, then he laughs, the sound soft and musical. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he teases, sliding a hand around your waist to pull you closer. This time, when you tilt your head up for a kiss, you feel him lean in just a bit more—a tiny, tangible shift. His lips linger, his cool hand splaying across your back. The moment stretches on until you both draw away, contented smiles on your faces.

“That,” you whisper, thumb brushing against his jaw, “was exactly what I’ve been missing.”

Edward’s eyes shine with affection. “Then I’ll make sure you never miss it again.”

Downstairs, you can practically hear Alice’s “Yes!” whispered under her breath, and you know Rosalie is grinning in that smug way that says, “Told you so.” It makes you laugh softly. But that’s the beauty of this big, unconventional vampire family.

Edward gently presses his forehead against yours. Neither of you needs to breathe, but the moment feels like a breath of fresh air anyway. Old-fashioned or not, he’s all yours—and he’s finally letting you show him that you’re every bit the strong partner he deserves. And judging by the heat in his eyes, this is just the beginning.

[tinytennisskirt]

Behind Closed Doors

socialite good girl! reader x patrick zweig

summary: heavily based on the lyrics of behind closed doors by lana del rey, patrick zweig takes genuine interest in one of the 'matches' his parents have thrown at him to try and rope him back to high society. she takes him and herself by surprise, finding she's not all spoiled, perfect, and innocent. nobody is rooting for them, but they don't care. if it feels good. then it can't be bad. behind closed doors.

part one: reader goes through the motions of her first date with patrick, her first cigarette, and the debrief that follows suit. warnings: mentions of sex, smoking, kissing, slight corruption vibe

When Patrick pulled out his pack of cigarettes in the restaurant parking lot, you knew for certain he wasn’t your usual type of guy. As if the date itself didn’t already tell you so. His wandering eyes, his hands tapping the table, the way he asked to split the bill. He was an asshole in a way that you could tolerate for the first time in your life. And he was gorgeous, tall, with nice biceps and a pretty nose. He had curls you stared at quite a bit and interestingly blue eyes that didn’t seem all that blue in the lighting of the parking lot.

You just kept noting that he was nothing like the other guys your parents would send you out with. The setups were usually awful, but with Patrick here, there was no beige sweater tied around his shoulders like a white-collared asshole with a business dream. He was Patrick Zweig, in a dark green sweater and jeans and a cigarette between his lips and he was leaning against his car, smoke blowing in your face. He was new and it was refreshing and it felt… dangerous. He didn’t mention the stock market, he said you looked nice in your dress, and never in your life had you ever wanted to remove your clothes faster. That was bad.

It was dangerous because one, you were a virgin, and two, he was not the kind of guy you’d dreamed about losing that to. You pictured a Prince Charming, groomed, dress shirt, whiskey neat, and in a setting of pretty rose petals, not red, but pink and romantic candlelight. Here Patrick was in front of you destroying that vision. With every word that slipped his lips, those pink rose petals turned red. The lush sheets you’d imagined turned into the backseat of his car. Prince Charming turned into a twenty-four-year-old tennis player. 

You tucked your hair behind your ears, “Do they taste how they smell?” You asked him, tilting your head just slightly to the right, your eyes wide and unknowing. You reminded him a little bit of a deer, or a kitten, or something innocent. It was something about him being four years older, which wasn’t that much now. But he could see that little difference. And you were shorter than him, which wasn’t helpful in your case, but then again nor were those curious eyes. Patrick smiled just a little bit at the question. 

“The cigarettes?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Worse.” He nodded. You were the daughter of some family friend, some nose-upturned chair member on some sort of big fucking social pyramid that his own mother was also at the top of. You were the daughter of that high society, so looking at you all doe-eyed in your pink dress, it was only fitting for Patrick to fall into character and ask you, “Do you want to try?” He coughed just a little asking it, but smirked all the same. 

He liked the way you looked a little startled by his ask. Your eyelashes fluttered, it was cute. He’d played nice the entire time he was out with you, asked all the questions you ask the heir of two socialites, and listened to all the answers. He couldn’t believe after so much time away from the scene he’d want to hear about Saturdays at the Country Club, but you were that sort of girl and for once, he didn’t mind it—something about you. You blinked hard and you giggled just a little, “Oh, I- don’t- it’s…” 

“Just an offer.” He nodded, enjoying how flustered it made you. He wondered what else he could do to produce that sort of reaction. 

“I-um- I’ve never- I don’t know how,” you admit. Patrick felt a smirk tug at his lips. He felt a little evil and he knew that he was, too. You weren’t that kind of girl and he knew it to his core that giving you a cigarette was an act rooted in a bit of corruption, but it was so cute how you just couldn’t say no. Some part of him would give anything to have that pretty pink lipgloss on the end of his cigarette. And the end of something else as well. “Should I?” 

His smirk broke free and his eyes met yours as he blew smoke out into the air again. “Only if you want to.” He nodded, chuckling. “You don’t have to. You won’t like it.” He held it out toward you and you brought your hand up and down twice before you took it, turning it around—perfect French tips on a burning cigarette. You looked at him, some form of determination taking over that curious look.

“What do I do? Can I do it wrong?” 

“Inhale like you’re taking a deep breath, hold and exhale.” He said, stepping just the slightest bit closer to you. He realized that his replies were coming off a little short, unintentionally. He was used to the stance of it when he went out with other entitled girls. You were coming off different, he blinked off his bias and smiled at you. “Can’t do it wrong, you might just not get any of the…” He fixed the way you were holding it, “-Smoke.”

You laughed a little nervously, “Mmm, no. I can’t. Take it back.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“I’m sure. Kind of. Could I get hooked?” 

He stepped closer again, “Depends on if you have an addictive personality.” 

“How do I know-” 

“It’s burning out, princess,” he said, pointing to the cigarette. The nickname nearly caught you more off guard than the cigarette did. He watched your lips part just slightly. He knew you were different. “I’ll take it back if you don’t want it.” He reached forward and you narrowed your eyebrows. He backed off, “Alright, alright.” 

His words echoed around your head. The nickname princess was one you resented yet somehow, from his lips it was even worse in the best way. How he was the son of two people whom you respected very much for their cleanly little dinner parties and charity organizations and white-wearing yacht parties, you didn’t know. He was so… opposite. So it was easy to be the opposite of who you were as you warily raised the cigarette to your lips. 

Patrick pressed his grin into a straight line, his eyes carefully watching as you looked at it, then him. He tried to keep his smile down to not intimidate you any further. He offered it almost to taunt you, but here you were, with it raised to your lips. A soft, pretty girl in a pink dress, even your shoes went against the look of a cigarette in your hands. You inhaled just slightly, the smoke didn’t make it very far, burning harshly against the back of your throat. You coughed immediately, head-turning away from him. Your heart was beating fast, the adrenaline of doing something wrong was coursing through your veins in a fiery hot struggle to breathe again. It wouldn’t stop, it hurt, it burned. Getting clean air seemed impossible- you choked.

Patrick stepped forward, his hand on your shoulder just bracingly, chuckling at how hard you were coughing and how hard you were trying to stop yourself from coughing. “You’re okay, breathe,” he was trying not to smile or laugh but he couldn’t help himself. The daughter of a pedestal socialite was coughing up her lungs because of him. He just knew your parents had made a mistake letting you go out with him. It wasn't the first time they’d thrown a good girl in his face to try and lure him back to his ‘rightful lifestyle’, but out of every girl, you were the only one to actually go against all of your good girl training and try. He liked that. 

You could not catch your breath. It still burned in your chest and in your throat. Patrick’s hand on your shoulder was a small help for comfort, his body so close to yours, your cough faded out but your heart was still beating hard. Fuck a headrush, you were feeling the adrenaline and the rush of something bad. Something wrong. His hand still on your shoulder to keep you steady and offer some semblance of comfort, you could meet his eyes now and in the height and heat of everything, you figured you had already went against your character- why not some more? 

You didn’t see it coming yourself, the way you acted so abruptly. You moved spontaneously into him, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Out of all the things to happen, a cigarette turning into a kiss was an unexpected move. The cigarette hit the pavement, sparks bouncing across the pavement as your lips connected with his, both arms around his neck now. His strong hands, stronger than any that had ever been on you, held your waist tight and kept you close, pressed against him. He didn’t see it coming either, but the way you kissed, he’d never complain. 

You were a good kisser, he noted. Good, too good. At twenty though, you’d made out with enough potential guys to know how. He grinned against your lips a little evilly as he let his hands slip over your hips, the silk of your dress making it easy for his hands to slide down over your ass. You tasted like strawberry lip gloss and as his tongue dipped into your mouth, you found he tasted like smoke and bad choices, but god, it felt so good. 

He moved a step, pressing your back against the side of his car. Your hands slid up into his hair to pull just gently on his curls that you’d admired all dinner. It was quite possibly one of the most exciting, thrilling, and invigorating kisses of your lifetime. One of the best of his as well, dwelling on the fact he had his tongue in the mouth of such a sweet girl. Sweet in more ways than one now, he noted, squeezing your ass just gently before having his hand travel back up your hips, back to your waist. Not once did either one of you come up for air as the cigarette on the ground burned out for real this time. 

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“The Zweigs don’t have a single photo of him around. Every time I go over with my parents, the walls are lined with vacation photos and paintings by prestigious artists, a new one every time, but never anything to do with him. Hell, I haven’t even seen a baby photo. They hide him well. What does he look like?” Your friend Mia asked, shopping bags bustling against each other as you walked through the mall. 

“Dying to know how it went, too,” your other friend Olive added, her extra-detailed Starbucks drink in hand. “Spill.” 

“Okay, okay,” you smiled. “So he’s tall. Not abnormally tall, but tall, like over six feet.” 

“The Zweigs are so short though,” Olive replied. “No way he’s anything more than five foot eight, I don’t believe it.” 

“Believe it. He was up here,” you gestured above you to where his height would be. Both girls grinned a little wider. “He has shorter hair, but it’s a little bit curly, dark brown. It’s a very Zweig brown. But god, he’s gorgeous. Like asshole gorgeous, too gorgeous. To me, at least. Big nose, blue-ish eyes.” 

“That’s your type.” Mia agreed. “I need a photo of him now. You feel like sharing?” 

“Dreamboat. I love big noses.” 

You grinned, “Me too. Okay, but his smile, I have to note. His grin was crazy, he has dimples like big dimples and I couldn’t stop staring when he smiled.” 

“I love dimples, my god, he sounds great, why do they hide him? I want to meet him.” Olive pretended to swoon as you turned the corner and into the bookstore. “So what happened?” 

You picked up a copy of some Shirley Jackson book, looking over the cover as you spoke, “Well, he’s not like the Zweigs at all. I mean, off the bat, his elbows were on the table. And he was charming and a little bit witty but very down to earth, talked to me about the last yacht party and we talked a bit about tennis, he’s a tennis player.” You walked over to the candles, the girls were so invested in your story they didn’t stop to smell any of them. “He’s not like any guy from our scene, no sweater vests or dreams to be his dad’s mini-me, it’s hot. It was hot. Sweater and jeans hot.” 

“I’m still hung up on the elbows thing,” Olive chuckled. “Maybe I’m just religious.” 

“Or anal,”  Mia giggled. “It’s bad, it’s rude, but maybe redeemable though I hate when guys wear jeans, it feels wrong. Okay, sorry, continue.” 

“So when dinner was over we split the bill, I’ve never done anything like it. Half and half. And then we go outside and we stand by his car and he smokes.” 

“Smokes? What, cigarettes?” You were turned away from the view of both your friends and the disgust on their faces. “Split the bill? As in made you pay?” 

You nodded, picking up a candle scented like baked goods, “Mhm. I didn’t mind, but it was strange. And yes, cigarettes. Oh, and I tried it.” You looked up at them for a split second. The two girls were posed in shock. “Okay, well, hardly, but I still tried.” 

“You smoked a cigarette?” Olive questioned, her face still puzzled and a little disgusted. “Did he force you?” 

“He offered. I only tried to inhale once and when I did I coughed forever but he was really sweet about it, put a hand on my arm and everything.” You rebutted. “Then we kissed… a bit.” 

Mia shook her head, “We’ll return back to a few of those points- How was the kiss? Was it good? Is he good at it?” She reshuffled the way she was holding all her shopping bags, moving past displays of stacked books. Olive, though still grossed out, seemed just as intrigued. 

You couldn’t help but hide your face, giggling just a little, “Really good, actually. Like perfect. He kisses with tongue, but not too much. Tasted like smoke. His hands were on my waist, he grabbed my ass, I’ve never had anyone grab my ass like that, it sent chills through my body.” 

“God, you’re so untouched,” Mia giggled. “Just wait until you get the other chills. Sometimes I forget you’re a virgin.” 

“That’s enough,” Olive grinned. “You’ve barely had sex yourself, Mary Magdalene.” You rolled your eyes, paying attention to another shelved book while they bickered until Olive cut back in. “But you’re not seeing him again, right? Like ew.” 

“Patrick?” You turned. 

She nodded, “Yeah. The kiss was probably great and he sounds hot, but you’re not seeing him again? Like- you literally smoked because of him, do you know how bad that is? And splitting the bill is so… so unfitting for you. The elbows on the table and the cigarette, Y/N… What?” 

Mia nodded too. “He might be a Zweig, but now you know why they hide him. He sounds cheap and a little trashy. I mean if you’re smoking at least make it a cigar, I mean, where’s the class? Did he even drive a good car?” 

“It was a normal car.” 

Olive put her drink down to gently brace your upper arms, “Y/N, this guy and his normal car are not for you. You’re a Y/L/N, why would you settle for some cigarette-smoking-elbows-on-the-table-split-the-bill black sheep? That’s so not you and god, if your parents found out, you’d be grounded for two years. And you even kissed him, that’s crazy. With tongue? Ass grabbing on the first date, tell me you’re following.” 

“I’m following, I just- hm. He was fine otherwise.” 

Mia frowned, “You’re hearing yourself? He was fine otherwise?”

“He was! He’s a good guy, he listens. He’s nice, drove me back to my dorm and everything.”You nodded. “And he’s a really good kisser like you wouldn’t believe. And I’m not opposed to having my ass grabbed-” 

“Y/N,” Mia whined. “He’s not it just because he’s different. You can find differences in a good-mannered guy. One who doesn’t smoke and one who drives something nice.” She nodded. “Like- Oh my god, Olive, we could set her up with Matty Bronson.” 

Olive gasped, tapping Mia on the arm. “He’s exactly that! Say no more, I have his number, he slipped it to me when I saw him the other day on campus.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. You loved your friends but sometimes they just didn’t get it. How could they? They never questioned their lifestyle, they never thought twice about all the high society coming out parties and summer vacation houses. They were also a little clueless- Matty Bronson had liked Mia all through high school and into the second year of college. There was no way now that you’d end up with him.

You picked up another book and read the back of it as you thought about the plans you’d already made to see Patrick again tomorrow night. This time, he picked the place. It was a thrilling thought, but after what they’d both just said, you knew maybe you shouldn’t tell them that you were seeing him again.

PART ONE > PART TWO

[warping-realities]

Beautiful Things

Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.

Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.

That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"

Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.

“Please, staaaayyyy…”

That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.

The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.

“I want you, I need you, oh God…”

But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?

Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.

Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.

“Alois, du bist dumm…”

He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.

But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.

“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.

“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.

“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane

It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”

Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.

Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.

“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”

“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.

“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”

The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.

But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.

“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.

After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.

“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.

“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”

“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.

“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.

“Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”

This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.

Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.

Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.

“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”

“I… what…?”

“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.

“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”

.....

When he got to the dorm for international students  after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.

“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious  starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.

“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”

“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”

“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”

“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”

“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”

“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!

“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”

“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”

“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”

Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.

“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”

As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one  in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.

“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.

When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.

Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.

“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.

“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.

“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”

“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.

“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.

"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.

...

Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.

“You coming, bro?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”

“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.

.....

While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.

“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”

“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”

“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”

[sinsandsweetness]

“compulsion” - part 2 of PICK YOUR POISON - (a dads best friends love story)

first part here

pairing- (Shane x fem!reader)

warnings- nsfw, 18+, age gap, dads best friends, drinking, oral (r!recieving), fingering, jealous rick… 1.8k wc

You’d been a complete tease since that night in the garage. You knew it. They knew it. Apparently the only one who didn’t know it was your father. Such an oblivious man. Unable to see the way his friends undress you with their eyes anytime they get a glimpse of you. Or the way you purposely wear the shortest skirts you own whenever they’re around. And today was no exception. A neighbourhood barbecue that your parents are hosting. Mostly an attempt in upholding the outstanding community member facade they desperately cling to. And with all your fathers friends who were invited, you decide that for your own form of validation, to put on your shortest sundress. A pale yellow with a soft floral pattern, almost unnoticeable unless you were up close. It was so short that you have to pull the sides down anytime you get up from your seat.

“Where you goin’?” Rick asks as you tug on the skirt, heading for the door to your house. Your shoulder now a little cold without his arm wrapped around it. Something neither of your parents seemed to notice. Or if they did they certainly didn’t care. Too busy in conversation, welcoming some of the newest Alexandria recruits.

“Washroom.” You make a face at him. He seemed almost appalled that you’d be leaving his side. He probably was. Always trying to keep you close. Closest out of the three. And that was keeping him on edge. Trying to maintain your attention the most effectively, and keep it on the low. In fact, the secret was making him a little jumpy. The weeks of stolen kisses and touches catching up to him too. Very, very secret touches. Hiding what was becoming an exhilarating and extremely complicated relationship between three different guys, all old enough to be your father.

He watches your hips sway as you walk into the house, flashing him a cute smile before making your way down the hallway.

When the bathroom door opens, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Shane. With a flirty grin, your body moves quicker than your mind. Pushing the man back in as he tries to object, but you don’t let him. Pressing your lips to his and pulling him in by the back of his neck.

“What-”

“Mhpm.” You don’t even let him answer. Just continue kissing him all hot and needy, while you close the door behind you, pulling him close against you as you start to feel him relax. To accept that this was happening.

The entire day was torture. Each one of them very aware of your cries for attention, but not offering to do anything about them. When you tried to pull Rick upstairs to your bedroom he got all tight jawed and told you to cut it out. Pinching your ass as he led you towards the backyard. And Daryl, silently shook his head when you teased your fingernails up your thigh, lifting your skirt to show him the colour of the thong you were wearing. Ugh, they’re so boring. No fun at all.

It’s such a shame too. You want them so bad and they barely seem to acknowledge it. You woke up this morning all hot and needy, hand in your panties before your alarm even wrang. And seeing the men all perfect and groomed wasn’t helping. In their Sunday best button ups, with a spritz of cologne that made your head dizzy. It was intoxicating. The way you actually crave them. The way you feel like you need them. You’re already addicted and you’ve barely even had a taste.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m a virgin?” You ask Shane in between messy kisses, hands already tugging at his belt, more than hinting at the real reason you decided to trap him in the costal themed bathroom.

He laughs against your lips. He tastes like beer. And you like it. A lot.

“Absolutely not.” He leans back. Tone more serious now. “Are you?”

An amused huff escapes your lips as you rest your head against the bathroom door. “No. But I wish I were.”

You pull him in again, tongue tracing his bottom lip as you kiss him. “Wish it coulda been you who popped my cherry,” his hand is under your dress, rubbing you through your panties. “Who fucked me and corrupted me,” you continue against his lips, the softest moan escaping your throat at his touch.

But he pauses. Trying to catch his breath, still rubbing soft circles on your clit.

“Ain’t too late for that second one.”

He’s right. It’s not.

“Probably woulda been better then some 16 year old jock on prom night. What’d he last, 30 seconds? Bet he couldn’t even make you come, huh?” He asks, fingers finding their way into your panties now, spreading your arousal onto your clit, and dipping inside.

“No- “ you gasp at the intrusion. “Was- was my high school gym teacher. Cheated on his wife with me in the girls locker room during lunch hour.”

Shane couldn’t help the laugh that left his mouth at your confession. Vibrating against your own lips. And you smile because he’s amused. But you aren’t joking. And it’s really not that funny. Truly wasn’t your proudest moment.

“Now that, I believe.”

You’re done talking, so you pull his smile against your own and whimper into his mouth. His fingers already pumping slowly inside of you. Finding your sweet spot with ease. Making your bare toes curl against the cool tile.

From the moment you woke up, you’ve needed this. Needed to come. All over his fingers. His cock would be ideal, but he told you no already. They all came to an agreement. Daryl, Rick and him. Said it was “crossing a line” or some bullshit. As if finger fucking your best friends daughter while he’s flipping burgers on the back deck isn’t.

“Please, Shane- need you so bad-” you whine against his lips. Hips involuntarily bucking into his hand.

“Fuck, baby-” you know he’s trying to hold back.

“Just-uh,” he groans, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your panties down in one swift motion. Taking your right thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

Your hands tangle in his hair at the feeling of his mouth on your cunt. His hands are under your dress, nails digging into your ass and pulling you even closer. The warm slickness of his tongue moving up and down on your clit. Pleasure swirls in your stomach and silent whimpers escape your swollen lips.

“Taste so fucking good-” he groans against you, bringing two fingers up and teasing your entrance. Leaking with arousal and spit. Absolutely begging to be filled. To be fucked.

“Ohmygod,” you moan, pressure building in your core as he curls his fingers. Sucking and lapping at your clit, like he just can’t get enough.

“Gonna come, Shane-” you tell him, hands tightening their grip on his dark locks. Your left leg is starting to tremble, and you’re climax is approaching much quicker then you were hoping. Thanks to his tongue replicating what you can only assume feels just like heaven.

And right when that tight, hot band in your core feels like it’s about to snap, you feel the wood behind you move, and hear the door handle rattle. Someone trying to use the bathroom that had thankfully been locked in between frenzied kisses and grabby hands.

“Occupied!” You squeak, eyes widening at the interruption. Your heart practically skipping a beat at the prospect of being caught.

You feel Shane’s movements halt to a stop, big, brown eyes looking up at you from between your legs.

“Shit. sorry, sweets.” You’re father’s deep voice carries through the door, and a cheeky grin forms on Shane’s handsome face. Once the footsteps retreat down the hall, he puts his index finger to his lips and shushes you. Be quiet, baby.

“Keep going-” your voice is hushed and shaky. Desperately unashamed to be begging for his mouth. His fingers. His nose, and how amazing it feels grinding against your pulsing clit. And wether he heard your pleas or not, he obliged.

You raise you hand to your mouth and bite down on the fleshy side of your palm, silencing the sounds you both know you can’t contain. And you’re close again in a moments time. Eyes rolling back and hips jutting forward. Muscles aching already.

Oh my god.

“Don’t stop, please, please, please-” you beg him for your orgasm. And he gives it to you. Coaxing it out of you with his mouth and his fingers. Feeling a warm wave of pleasure erupt from your cunt, going up your stomach and down your things. And you bite your lip trying not to moan but it feels way too good and you can’t help it.

Not that Shane minded.

“Fuck.” You whisper, core twitching as he pulls his sopping digits out of you. Looking you right in the eye as he kisses your clit, one last torturous time, before he takes your panties, pulls them back up and fixes your dress. He washes his hands as you catch your breath, still leaning against the door. Face flushed when you see him smirking at you through the mirror.

“Think you can behave the rest of the night?”

You nod eagerly, “Yes.”

“Good. Now go back out there and pretend you didn’t just come all over my fingers, alright? Have a drink, eat some food. Be a good girl for us.”

You left the bathroom before him, checking that the coast was clear before slipping outside and eyeing the open spot still next to Rick. He notices you immediately and holds up a red solo cup, cold condensation already dripping down the plastic.

“Made you a drink,” he hands it to you as you sit next to him, the side of your thigh flush with his, keeping him extra close. And before his arm can make its way back around your shoulder, his eyebrows pinch together in a confused scowl.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, inspecting your dopey expression.

“Hm?” You look at him as innocently. Clearly still little dazed from your trip to the washroom.

Rick’s face twitches when he notices. Your thighs are actually trembling. Already sore from keeping yourself standing on one foot, while coming hard on another man’s face only moments earlier.

Rick’s palm flattens on your thigh, pushing it into the seat and halting it’s shakiness.

“Really?”

“What?” You ask, voice sweet as honey.

“You know what.”

“I- I tried to take you upstairs n’ you got all grumpy-” you stutter, trying to defend your sinful actions.

“I said later.”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. And you’re a little surprised to feel a jolt between your legs at his jealousy. How hot it is that he’s a little mad. A little… possessive.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper in his ear, tucking yourself in closer to his side, sipping the drink he made you. “Can make it up to you. Promise.”

He rolls his eyes. Annoyed and jealous and irritated that it wasn’t him who had his way with you in the bathroom, so well that it made your legs shake. But regardless of his hostility, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in against his warm body. And you notice that his grip tightens when Shane walks by, giving you a charming smile and a flirty nod.

Annoyed and defeated, Rick sighs and leans in. Close enough that his lips brush your ear.

“Alright. Upstairs. Now.”

part 3

-

(Daryl’s part will be next… hope you all enjoyed💗)

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker @whatthefuuuck

[hunkpossession0]

**Found this personal trainer on Insta, I chatted a lil bit with him, and now I got his body. Poor him.**

It all started with a late-night scroll through Instagram. You know how it goes—one minute you’re just browsing, and the next, you’re sucked into the world of fitness models and personal trainers, each more jacked than the last. That’s when I found *him*.

This guy was perfection in human form. Towering height, muscles that looked like they were chiseled from stone, and a face that screamed confidence. The guy even rocked a thick, perfectly groomed mustache that somehow made him look even more masculine. His profile was full of workout tips, nutrition advice, and those motivational posts that usually make me roll my eyes. But something about him had me hooked.

“Man, if I had that body,” I muttered to myself, almost jokingly. But then the thought took hold. *What if*?

I shot him a DM, asking for some beginner tips—playing the part of the clueless newbie. To my surprise, he replied almost instantly, eager to help. We went back and forth for a bit, him giving advice and me pretending to be interested, while I worked on something far more… *ambitious*.

As we chatted, I tapped into an ability I’d been perfecting—a way to connect with someone on a deeper level. To reach out and *take* what was theirs. He had no idea that while he was busy explaining how to start on squats and deadlifts, I was making a connection that would change everything.

And then, with one final push, I felt it—the shift.

Suddenly, I wasn’t lounging on my bed anymore. I was standing in a gym, holding his phone in his hand, feeling the weight of his massive arms, the strength in his legs. I flexed one arm, watching as the muscles bulged, hard and defined, beneath the skin. My heart pounded with excitement and something else… an overwhelming sense of power.

I took a deep breath, my chest expanding with muscles that weren’t mine just a moment ago. I was in *his* body now, and damn, did it feel good. The thick mustache above my lip twitched as I grinned at my reflection in the mirror, marveling at how it suited this face, this body. I ran a hand over it, feeling the rough bristles that added an extra layer of ruggedness to this perfect form.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, my voice deep and resonant. *His* voice. My voice now.

My phone buzzed in my pocket—*his* pocket, I reminded myself—and I pulled it out to see a flood of missed notifications. But those could wait. The first thing I did was block my old account. Whoever was stuck in my former body wouldn’t be getting any help from me. They’d just have to deal with the shock of being… *me* now.

Meanwhile, across town, I could only imagine the horror and confusion on my former face as the realization hit. That once-comfortable body now felt alien, weak in comparison to what I had now. But I couldn’t waste time worrying about him—this was about me, about *living* in this body, and I intended to enjoy every second of it.

I turned back to the mirror, running my hands over my chest and abs, flexing just to watch the muscles ripple under the skin. God, I looked good. My new body felt hot, practically humming with energy, with a need I’d never felt before. The gym suddenly seemed smaller, like it couldn’t contain everything I was feeling.

An idea popped into my head, and I pulled out his phone again, quickly downloading Grindr. It didn’t take long to set up a profile—one of his shirtless pics as the main image, of course. The matches started rolling in almost immediately, the phone buzzing nonstop.

I couldn’t help but smirk at the screen. I shot a message to a couple of nearby guys, already knowing where this night was headed. The gym could wait—there were other ways to test out this body, and I was eager to explore *all* of them.

Back in that old, weak body, the poor guy was probably still staring at his reflection in disbelief, trying to figure out what had happened. But that was his problem now. I had bigger, better things to do—starting with enjoying every inch of this perfect new body. The thick mustache tickled my upper lip as I grinned wider, anticipation flooding my veins.

This was going to be fun.

[madlori]

i don't even know what this is, a bit of non-buddie-endgame heartbreak maybe.

----

"One more?" Eddie says, holding up the decanter of fine ten-year-old bourbon.

Buck sighs. "I better not. Don't want to be hungover tomorrow like I was at the last wedding we were at."

"At least you weren't the groom that time," Eddie said, grinning as he puts down the decanter, apparently deciding to forgo a refill for himself.

"All the more reason."

"It took me a year to pay off the credit card bill for that fucking hotel room," Eddie groans.

"Hey, you say that like I wasn't paying half."

"At least it put us off having some kind of wild party tonight."

"Yeah. Plus it just feels weird. Like, how does a bachelor party work if you're marrying a man? Seems like he ought to be invited, too."

"What is Tommy doing tonight?"

"His brothers and a couple of the guys from Harbor took him to Top Golf."

"Stop this crazy party train."

"I kinda like Top Golf, it's like golf but also skeeball."

Eddie put down his glass and leaned forward. "So I know a traditional part of my job tonight is to like...check how you're feeling. Like, make sure you're doing the right thing. See if you're having cold feet."

"It is?"

"Apparently. But...I don't really need to. You're practically vibrating with excitement."

Buck felt himself go warm and liquid at the idea that in 24 hours, he'd be Tommy's husband. "I am doing the right thing. I've never had any doubts."

"Never?"

"No. I love him so much, Eddie."

"I know you do. And that guy is so in love with you it's embarrassing. I've never had doubts about either of you, either. And you know I get protective."

"Gee, you don't say."

"Shut up!" They laughed together, the quiet, easy laughter of a nearly decade-old friendship that in some ways was even closer than a marriage.

Buck sighed. "Well, I better get to bed. I need sleep if I want to look pretty to marry the man of my dreams tomorrow."

Eddie nodded, making no move to get up himself. "I'll wake you up at 9."

"Thanks." He patted Eddie's knee and went to the door. Something felt...electric. The air was crackling and he didn't really know why.

He was at the door when Eddie's voice stopped him.

"Did we just miss our chance? Somewhere along the way?" he said, quietly, but his voice cut into the silence clearly.

Buck paused, still facing the door. He took a deep breath and turned, his eyes locking on to Eddie's immediately. He did not even try to pretend that he didn't know exactly what Eddie was talking about. "Yeah. I think we did."

Eddie nodded. "I think so, too."

Buck took a step forward. "But you will always be my guy, Eddie. Always."

Eddie stood up, hands in his pockets. "I love you. And I love him. I love what you two have, together. And I will always have your back."

Buck took the two steps to close the distance and pulled Eddie into an embrace, pressing his face into his hair. "I love you, too." He drew back and let his forehead rest against Eddie's. They took a few breaths together, and it felt like they were releasing something into the air between them. Buck pulled away and pressed a kiss to Eddie's forehead. Eddie smiled, an easy, familiar smile, and it was okay again.

Buck grinned, squeezed his hand, and left the room.

He got to his own hotel room - they were all staying in the historic inn where the ceremony would be tomorrow - and made it inside. A shuddering breath escaped him, and as if he'd been waiting for a cue, he heard Tommy's key in the lock and he came inside. "Evan, wha..." was all he got out before Buck buried himself in his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm amazing. I'm just..." He sighed, pressing his face into Tommy's neck. "I think I just let go of something I've been holding onto for a long time."

Tommy pulled back and met his eyes. "Eddie?"

He knew. Of course he knew. This man who was about to marry him absolutely knew. Buck nodded.

"And you're both okay?"

"Yes. Better than that, I think." Tommy pulled him back into his arms, rocking them both back and forth. "I love you."

"I know, Evan. I've always known."

Buck stood in the embrace of the man he loved, and wept both for what he was about to gain, and a little bit for what he'd never had.

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Yandere Experiment: Lamb Fritter

Hey guys, I've been feeling depressed so I haven't been able to finish making my Yanmas posts, however here's a new oc to help feed my starving audience.

Lamb Fritter is a lab experiment creating a human hybrid with wolf and sheep DNA. Having fluffy white hair that trails off into gray fur like ends. He has black sclera and red eyes with the sheep lens. While it might have cute little lamb ears and a fluffy tail, it also has a pair of pointy wolf ears, sharp curved ram horns, and sharp canine teeth. Being a hybrid gives it super strength and speed, fast metabolism, heightened sight, smell, and hearing, and some other things.

Lamb Fritter was treated very bad by the scientists that created him, kept naked and poked and prodded like an animal despite its high intelligence. He was forced to eat a veggie diet which made the carnivore weaker and weaker.

One day the creature snapped and killed every scientist and guard in the building. Blood stained his white curls and his toned naked body. The poor creature ran away and hid in the dumpster behind a rundown diner in the middle of nowhere.

You were a waitperson at this diner, and you were taking out the trash thinking of what to make for dinner, perhaps lamb fritters. As you opened the dumpster you were attacked by a strong creature that pinned you to the asphalt. A large gash formed in the area the creature scratched on your arm.

You wince as you hear a menacing growl/bleat eyes blown wide with fear; this was your end. Murdered in the back of a crappy diner by some freak experiment. Until you heard sniffing and saw horizontal pupils blinking curiously at you.

Lamb Fritter looked at your eyes and sensed you were not evil like those people who kept him locked away, plus you weren't wearing a white coat.

You feel the creature licking your wound, remorse painted in his strangely endearing eyes. Perhaps sleep deprivation made your judgement murky because you guided the poor creature inside and threw an apron over its fully naked body (its genitals were freaking you out).

Lamb Fritter sat in an old booth seat and scarfed down the country fried steak you put in front of him, it was going to be your dinner, but the man seemed very hungry. It was almost cute how the wolf-sheep hybrid whined when the plate was empty, clearly he was still hungry.

Looks like you made a loyal friend who was abnormally strong and obeyed you no questions asked.

Extra Info

His favorite food is country fried steak not because he particularly likes it (he prefers his meat raw), but because he associates it with good things (like you).

Hates clothes with a burning passion, refuses to wear anything more than underwear (it's not like he'll be going outside anyways).

Amazing cuddler as he is warm and soft with strong arms to help you feel safe. He loves this gentle nighttime activity as he gets to hold you while you sleep. Likes to groom you as a good mate would do.

His little sheep tail wags when he's happy and he does a happy yip/bleat (only happens when it involves you).

Will block the door with his body every time you try to leave the house in hopes of you staying forever. Can be persuaded with sweet words and cuddles.

Very smart and picks up on words you mention and parrots them back to you. Happy bark/bleats when you ruffle his hair when you reward his smartness. Very fond of the phrase "I love you" and your name.

Being very smart it is able to pick up any task quickly and perfect it, it's the only way he can stave off boredom when you're gone.

Follows you everywhere in the house, insists on following you into the bathroom as well (you don't let him).

Hates the smell of others, especially other men. Will cling to you rubbing his scent all over you in hopes it will stick permanately

Will charge people and maul them if you let anyone into your nest (aka your house). Will also bring a body part up to you proudly and expects praise (look how well it defends you). He's territorial so it's best to not bring anyone home until that muzzle you ordered for him comes in the mail.

Feral unhinged beast to others and loyal submissive puppy to you.

Don't you love your good boy?

[justallmyfantasies]

out of breath

maybe, he’ll end up putting a ring on it.

contains: 18+ smut! (unprotected piv, teasing, slight praise, grinding, i think that’s all)

word count: 6.5k

MINORS DONT INTERACT

the crowded reception hall was buzzing with excitement, couples dancing to old romantic songs while others were gathered near the bar. you had never seen your boyfriend, alex, so well-dressed until this evening, when he appeared as the best man in one of his bandmate's wedding.

alex's hand was tight around yours as he navigated through the crowd, his gaze focused on finding his friend, no doubt to offer his congratulations.

the sound of laughter and conversations filled the air as you weaved through the sea of people, occasionally exchanging smiles with familiar faces. alex's determination to find his friend seemed unwavering, his grip on your hand firm and steady.

"he should be somewhere near the front," he said in a low voice, leaning closer to you. "keep an eye out for that gaudy purple tie. impossible to miss."

you chuckled, the thought of a gaudy purple tie standing out in a sea of black tuxes and formal dresses. another band was playing a soft, romantic melody, and couples were already taking to the dance floor.

"and here i thought we were going to get a chance to dance." you teased, glancing up at alex's determined face.

he shot you a playfully guilty look, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "i didn't say we weren't going to dance. i just need to get this best man duty over and done with first."

alex continued leading you towards the front of the hall, still scanning the crowd for his friend. "besides, i promise i'll make up for it later." his voice was low, hinting at intimate promises.

finally, in the front of the room, you caught sight of the groom and his groomsmen. they were standing in a circle, laughing and chatting. the purple tie that alex had mentioned was indeed hard to miss, the only splash of color amongst the standard black tuxes.

alex led you over to the group, still holding your hand tightly. the groomsmen all looked up as you approached, and the groom's face lit up when he saw alex.

"hey, there he is!" the groom said loudly. he reached out to clap alex's hand, pulling him into a one-armed hug. “thanks for standing next to me today. you look fuckin’ good in a tux."

alex laughed, clearly happy with the compliment. "thanks man, glad i could be here. where's the wife? i want to congratulate her too."

the groomsmen chuckled, and the groom pointed towards the middle of the room where the bride was surrounded by her bridesmaids. "she's over in the middle of her girl gang, as usual. go ahead, you know she'll be happy to see you."

alex nodded, then turned to you, still standing next to him. "i'll be right back, okay? you go grab us something to drink." he gave your hand a quick squeeze before releasing it, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

you nodded, watching as he walked away towards the group of laughing women. you couldn't help but notice how damn good he looked in that suit, and the way it clung to his frame had your mind wandering to later tonight.

you made your way to the bar, weaving through the crowd and trying to ignore the knowing looks from some of the other women.

at the bar, you ordered two drinks and tried to make small talk with the bartender as you waited. some of the conversations around you were loud, snippets of sentences and laughter drifting in and out of your ear.

a few minutes later, you received your drinks and turned around, scanning the room for alex. you didn't see him immediately among the crowd, your gaze flitting from table to table. just as you were starting to feel a pang of worry, you caught sight of him. he was again with the group of groomsmen, laughing heartily at something one of the guys was saying. the bride hovered nearby, a wide smile on her face.

alex noticed you standing nearby and lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. he flashed you a grin, beckoning you over with a slight jerk of his head.

you made your way towards him, drinks in hand. the conversation died down as you approached, and the groomsmen all turned to greet you with friendly smiles.

"hey, there you are," alex said as you reached them, his voice carrying a hint of relief. he took his drink, taking a sip while his gaze lingered on you longer than necessary.

the groomsmen teased alex about his obvious affection, and the groom gave you a friendly nod before excusing himself and the rest of his men to start the wedding speeches.

alex watched them go, his hand reaching out for yours once again. "thanks for being patient. sorry i left you by yourself for so long."

"it's okay," you replied, feeling the warmth of his fingers intertwine with yours. "i don't mind. you had best man duties to perform."

the two of you watched as the speeches began, alex's hand still wrapped around yours, a comforting and familiar weight.

the groomsmen gave heartfelt speeches, each one filled with anecdotes and jokes about the newlyweds. alex chuckled at a few of the jokes, his hand still holding onto yours as if he didn't want to let go.

as the speeches ended, the band started up again with a slow, romantic song. couples were now filling the dance floor, swaying to the music.

the music washed over you both, the slow melody almost hypnotising. alex, still holding your hand, looked down at you with a small smile.

"you know, there's something i owe you." he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

you raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "hmm? what's that?"

his other hand found its way to your hip, his fingers tracing small circles through the fabric of your dress. "a dance." he replied simply, pulling you closer to him.

the heat from his touch on your hip sent shivers up your spine, and you leaned into his embrace. the other couples on the dance floor faded into background noise as alex led you into a slow, swaying dance.

his arm was around your waist, pulling you against him as he guided you to the rhythm of the music. the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the smell of his cologne, it was all so intoxicating.

his hand on your hip felt possessive, and yet gentle. you could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of your dress, each one of his movements sending tingles through your body.

he pulled you a little closer, his head tilted down so that his breath gently warmed your ear. "you look incredible tonight." he murmured, the words causing your heart to flutter.

your arms wrapped around his neck, your body instinctively responding to his closeness. his breath against your skin, the way he held you like he never wanted to let you go.

"you don't look too bad yourself.” you replied, a hint of a smile in your voice. the music was almost a background hum now, the only thing you were focused on was alex.

the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a crooked smile. his fingers continued tracing patterns against your skin, like he was incapable of keeping his hands off you.

"only good? i'm deeply offended." he feigned a pout, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "i spent extra time making sure i looked good tonight, just for you."

you laughed softly, your fingers playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. "fine, you look amazing. you look so good it's almost criminal."

his smile widened, pleased with your compliment. his hand moved up from your hip, his touch leaving a burning trail in its wake.

"that's more like it." he murmured, his fingers coming to rest on your lower back. the hand on your hip pulled you even closer, his body now completely pressed against yours.

you were enveloped in his heat, the scent of him surrounding you. his head dipped lower, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

a gasp caught in your throat at the feeling of his lips against your skin. his touch was electric, igniting flames wherever he touched you. you could feel the firm muscles of his back through his shirt, the strength in his arms as he held you tightly against him.

his hand on your lower back began to move slowly lower, his fingers tracing the edge of your dress.

“alex, not here.”

he chuckled against your skin, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "why not?" he asked, his lips still brushing along your neck. "no one's paying attention to us, love." his hand continued its slow descent down your back, his touch both tantalizing and maddening.

you bit your lower lip, fighting against the urge to give in to the sensations he was evoking. "we're in the middle of a dance floor full of people. anyone could see..." despite your words, you found yourself gripping his shirt tighter, your body leaning into his touch.

his fingers dipped just a few centimeters lower, his touch torturously close to the curve of your ass. he nipped at your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "and?"

"and it's inappropriate," you protested, even as your body responded to his touch. you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your breath was coming out in short gasps. you enjoyed this really.

his lips moved to your jawline, slowly trailing a path towards your mouth. "when has that ever stopped us before?" he murmured, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours.

you opened your mouth to protest again, but the words were lost as he claimed your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. his tongue tangled with yours in a familiar dance, all your resistance melting away.

his hands moved further down, cupping your ass in a gently grip. for a moment, you forgot where you were, your world narrowed down to just the feeling of him pressed against you.

the people around you faded from your awareness, the music becoming a distant hum. your surroundings melted into a blur, replaced by the heat of his body, the taste of his lips, the scent of his cologne.

his hands squeezed your backside, his fingers digging into your flesh. you gasped into the kiss, your grip on his shirt tightening, desperate to pull him even closer.

he broke the kiss, but stayed close, his forehead touching yours, his breath coming out in raspy gasps. "bathroom, now.”

the whispered order sent a jolt through you, a mixture of desire and mischief. you nodded, your brain too hazy to argue.

before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and led you off the dance floor, weaving through the crowd with purposeful strides.

the journey from the dance floor to the bathroom felt like a blur, your mind consumed by the anticipation of what was to come. you couldn't believe you were doing this, right here in a wedding reception. but the heat in your belly and the way your heart was pounding in your chest made it impossible to ignore the pull of desire.

finally, you reached the bathroom, and alex pulled you inside, swiftly locking the door behind him.

as the door clicked shut, sealing you both inside the small bathroom, the world outside disappeared. the music from the reception was muted now, replaced by the sound of your own breathing.

alex wasted no time, his hands were on you immediately, pushing you against the wall. his body aligned with yours, his lips finding your neck and leaving a trail of kisses.

you tilted your head backwards, giving him better access to your sensitive skin. your hands clung to his back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. his kisses were like fire against your neck, each one igniting a bolt of heat in your core.

he bit down gently, his teeth nipping at your pulse point, causing you to let out a soft whimper.

his lips curved into a satisfied smile against your skin, enjoying the sounds you were making. his hands roamed your body, caressing your curves through the silk of your dress.

he moved lower, his lips finding the hollow of your collarbone, and then the slope of your breasts. you could feel the heat of his breath through the thin fabric of your dress, each one leaving a scorching trail in its wake.

“this has to be quick, you know.” you said.

he grunted in agreement, his hands already lifting the hem of your dress. “i know. can't take my time the way i want to."

his fingers slid under the fabric, skimming up the inside of your thighs. he kissed the underside of your jaw, then your earlobe, his voice low and husky. "but i promise, i'll make it up to you later."

you shivered under his touch, your body responding instantly to his promise. you could feel the heat building between your thighs, the anticipation making your heart race.

his lips returned to your neck, his tongue tracing a hot path downwards. his fingers pushed your dress further up, his thumbs now rubbing circles on the inside of your thighs.

he sucked on the skin of your neck, leaving a mark that would surely be there in the morning. he knew what it did to you when he marked you, the possessive, primal part of him that loved knowing you were his and no one else's.

his fingers moved higher, finally reaching the edge of your underwear. he traced the lace, his touch torturous, teasing at what was to come.

your breath was coming out in ragged gasps now, your hands clinging to his shoulders. the feeling of his fingers against your skin, the way his body pressed into yours, it was all too much and yet not enough all at once.

"alex, please," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "don't tease."

he chuckled, the sound rumbling against your neck. "i like hearing you beg," he replied, his voice thick with desire. "but don't worry, i'll give you what you want."

his fingers skimmed the edge of your underwear, and then slipped under, moving it to the side slightly, his touch finding the sensitive flesh between your legs. he groaned at the feel of you, his own breath coming out in gasps.

he groaned against your skin, the sound sending a jolt straight to your core. his fingers explored further, expertly finding just the right spots to drive you crazy.

his lips found yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel all of him against you.

the need for him was all-consuming, a fire raging through your veins. your body arched against his, trying to get as much contact as possible.

his tongue tangled with yours, his breath coming out in hot, uneven gasps. you could feel the evidence of his own desire, pressing against your thigh, a silent promise of what was to come.

one of his hands left your body, fumbling with his pants. the sound of his zipper being pulled down was like a sharp sound in the otherwise silent room.

he broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear. "wrap your legs around me, love." he ordered, his voice hoarse with desire.

you obeyed without hesitation, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist. he supported your weight with ease, his hands on your thighs, caressing the skin there.

he positioned himself, the tip of him now pressing against you. you could feel him even through the fabric of your underwear.

the anticipation was almost painful, the tension between you both hanging heavy in the air. you nipped at his shoulder with your teeth, as a silent plea for more.

he chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. his hands slid up your thighs, grabbing your hips and holding you firmly in place.

"impatient, are we?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your skin.

"you're the one who started this in a public bathroom," you reminded him, your breath coming out in short gasps. "you can't blame me for being impatient."

he grinned, his teeth scraping against your neck. "true. but i also know you like the thrill of it."

his hips pressed against you, his body flush against yours. you could feel his heat pressed against you, your own desire practically begging for it.

"alex, please," you begged, your voice laced with desperation. "i need you."

he groaned at your words, the sound almost animalistic. he was just as affected as you, his self control hanging by a thread.

his lips found yours in another burning kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a familiar dance. his fingers left your hips, gripping the elastic of your underwear.

in one swift move, he pulled it aside, the action both rough and gentle at the same time. his hands returned to your hips. and in one smooth move, he entered you, the feeling of him filling you was both a relief and an incredible pleasure. you gasped into his mouth, your hands clenching the fabric of his shirt.

he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "you always feel so good, baby." he murmured against your lips, his voice low.

he started moving, setting a slow, steady pace. His hands were on your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts. you wrapped your legs tighter around him.

he continued his slow, deliberate pace, each thrust igniting sparks of pleasure deep within you. his lips found your neck again, leaving a trail of burning kisses along the sensitive skin.

you clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching against his. his breath was hot against you.

you could feel the heat building inside of you, the pleasure coiling deep in your gut. it was all so overwhelming, each sensation heightened by the need to be quiet.

your nails dug into his skin, each gasp and moan escaping your lips despite your best efforts. he pressed closer, his body flush against yours, his own breathing growing ragged.

"you're doing so well, love." he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. his lips claimed yours again, drinking in the small whimpers and gasps that slipped past your lips. his movements were growing more frantic now, more urgent.

you tried to keep your sounds to a minimum, but it was getting harder and harder. the pleasure was growing unstoppable, your body on fire with every touch from him.

his one hand left your hip, sliding up your side and cupping your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple through the silky fabric.

the small action sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you bite down on his shoulder to stop yourself from making a sound. you could feel him smiling against your skin, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

he bit down on your neck, causing a strangled whimper to escape your lips. "you have to be quiet, remember?" he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

his words sent a heat wave through you, the combination of the need to be quiet and the pleasure he was giving you was almost too much. you clutched at him, your body arching against him, pleading for relief.

his movements were becoming more erratic, his breaths coming out in quick, sharp gasps. he was close, you could tell, and you were right there with him.

"let go," he murmured against your skin, his voice gravelly and low. "i've got you."

he adjusted his grip on you, changing the angle slightly, and that was all it took. the coil of pleasure inside you snapped, and you bit down on his shoulder, hiding a moan.

your body convulsed, pleasure washing over you in waves. you clung to him, your head buried in his shoulder, trying to muffle the sounds that escaped.

he followed shortly after, his body shuddering against yours. his grip tightened on your hip, his breath ragged and uneven. he let out a low, guttural moan against your neck, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling it gently.

he stayed there for a moment, both of you breathing heavily, trying to regain your composure. you were both flushed and disheveled, though you imagined you looked worse for wear. alex's hands slowly released their grip, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

"well," he said, his voice a bit shaky, "that was... something."

you laughed breathlessly, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "yeah, you could say that."

he chuckled, his hands beginning to smooth over your dress, trying to make you look a bit more presentable again.

"we should probably get back," he said reluctantly, his hands still fussing over you. "people are going to start getting curious about where we are."

you sighed, hating the idea of rejoining the reception and pretending nothing had happened. but he was right, you couldn't stay in here forever.

he stepped back, letting you slide down from his embrace. you took a moment to adjust your dress, smoothing down the wrinkles and fixing your hair as best you could.

alex watched you with a satisfied smile, his eyes roaming over your now-presentable appearance, whilst his sorted his appearance out.

once you were both at least somewhat presentable, he took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. his grip was firm, a silent claim to you, and a promise of what was to come later once the party was over.

he led you back to the door, pausing for a moment before opening it. he turned to you, his eyes darkened with desire, and spoke in a low voice.

"i'll be counting the minutes until I can have you again." he said, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

you nodded, unable to find any words to respond with. the heat from his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you had to force yourself to not just pull him back into the bathroom and repeat everything again.

he opened the door, peaking out to check if the coast was clear. once he was certain, he led you out, his hand still holding onto yours.

walking back into the wedding reception felt surreal after what had just happened. the music was louder now, people were laughing and dancing and chatting, oblivious to the secret you and alex were now sharing.

you both walked toward your table, keeping your composure despite the thrum of excitement humming in your veins.

several people greeted you as you made your way through the crowd. some asked where you had been, and you both gave vague, noncommittal answers, your fingers still interlocked, a silent pact.

once you reached your table, alex pulled out your chair for you, his hand briefly resting on your lower back in a subtle, private gesture. sitting down proved a bit uncomfortable after their recent activities.

you felt a twinge of soreness as you settled into your seat, a delicious reminder of the moments you had just shared with him. trying not to wince visibly, you shifted your position slightly, hoping no one would notice.

alex took the seat next to you, his eyes flickering to you for a moment, an amused glimmer in them. he knew exactly the effect he had on you and he was enjoying it.

the conversation flowed around your table, but you were only half listening. you were acutely aware of the heat of his thigh pressed against yours, the way his hand would occasionally brush against your leg.

you were struggling to maintain the normal facade, pretending you hadn't just had the most exhilarating experience in a wedding bathroom. meanwhile, alex seemed completely calm and relaxed, as if he hadn't just driven you to near insanity and brought you back from the edge of pleasure.

as the night wore on, you could feel the tension between you both growing, building once more. every glance, every touch, sent another spark of heat through you.

alex wasn't helping either, his fingers would brush against you seemingly without intent, but you knew each touch was deliberate.

you would steal glances at him when you thought no one was noticing, seeing the subtle shift in his demeanor, the hooded look in his eyes. he was just as affected as you, just better at hiding it.

the clock seemed to be moving in slow motion, the minutes feeling like hours. all you could think about was getting out of here and having him all to yourself again.

finally, the reception started to wind down. people were starting to say their goodbyes, and the dance floor was significantly less crowded.

alex turned to you, a subtle gleam in his eye. "ready to get going, love?" he asked, his voice a low murmur so no one else could hear.

you nodded enthusiastically, the mere thought of finally being alone with him again making your pulse quicken. "yes, please." you replied, unable to hide the eagerness from your voice.

he chuckled at your eagerness, but stood up, a hand gesturing for you to follow suit. “let's say our goodbyes, then."

you both went through the motions, saying farewell to the bride and groom and everyone else at the wedding party. it took longer than it should, since pretty much everyone wanted to engage in some conversation.

every minute dragged, every goodbye felt like an eternity. all you wanted to do was leave, pull alex to a quiet corner and just skip the entire evening and head straight to a hotel.

but eventually, you both finished saying your goodbyes, and you were free to go. alex's hand on your back guided you out of the venue.

the cool night air felt refreshing as you stepped outside, leaving the loud music and crowded venue behind. alex's hand slid down to yours, intertwining your fingers with his once more, and a thrill went through you at the simple gesture.

you were both silent as you walked to the parking lot, the anticipation between you both thick enough to cut with a knife.

once you reached his car, alex opened the door for you, his hand on your waist to help you in. you could feel the heat radiating through his touch, his fingers pressing against your skin.

once you were settled into the passenger seat, he closed the door and walked around to the other side. you watched as he got into the driver's seat, his gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment before he started the car.

the drive back to the hotel where you were staying was relatively short, but it felt like an eternity. you were hyper-aware of every movement from alex, every twitch of his fingers on the steering wheel, every shift of his body in the seat.

meanwhile, alex maintained a deceptively calm exterior, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. but you knew him better than that, you could see the tension in the line of his shoulders, the way he swallowed slightly more often.

once you arrived at the hotel, he parked the car and quickly came around to your side to open the door for you. his hand was back on your waist as he led you towards the entrance, his fingers digging slightly into your side.

the lobby was quiet, only a few late owls milling about. you both headed toward the elevator, the silence between you both heavy with anticipation.

the elevator ride was torturous. you could practically feel the tension and excitement coming off of him in waves. it took all your inner restraint not to simply press him against the elevator wall and claim him right there.

alex was outwardly calm, but his eyes were practically burning as they held yours steadily.

as soon as the elevator dinged open and the doors slid open, he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards your room. the hotel carpet seemed to mute the sound of your footsteps as you hastened down the hallway.

you could barely contain the excitement now, your heart beating wildly in your chest. you could taste the promise of what was to come, the desire that had been building all night finally about to be sated.

once you reached the door, alex fumbled with the key card for a moment, his hands not as steady as usual. you could see the flicker of impatience in his eyes, the need to be behind closed doors and away from prying eyes.

finally, the door opened, and he pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you with a firm click. the room was dark, the curtains drawn, only a sliver of light seeping through the gap. alex spun you around, pressing you against the door, his body flush against yours.

his hands were instantly on you, roving over your body, as if he could no longer wait to touch you. his lips found your neck, his breathing hot against your skin.

the sensations he created were almost overwhelming. his hands were everywhere at once, his lips on your skin, claiming and marking. his body pressed harder against yours, as if he wanted to meld you into one.

you arched your body against him, your fingers finding their way into his hair, pulling gently.

he groaned at the tug on his hair, the sound low and primal. his hands slid down your body, grabbing your thighs and lifting you up. your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, the action bringing your core flush against his.

he walked backwards, still carrying you, until the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed. he sat down, pulling you onto his lap, your legs straddling him. you could feel him through the fabric of his pants, the evidence of his desire for you pressed against you.

his hands were on your hips, holding you in place as his mouth found your neck. he nipped and sucked at the skin there, leaving a trail of burning kisses along your throat. his hips jerked upwards, seeking friction.

with a small gasp, you rocked against him, relishing the feel of him, even through the layers of clothes. your hands roamed over his chest, fingers undoing buttons and revealing skin.

he pulled away from your neck for a moment to look at you, his eyes dark and stormy. there was a raw hunger in his gaze that made your breath catch.

his hands moved, one shifting up your back and unzipping your dress while the other started to run up and down your thigh. you could feel the sharp edge of his teeth against your collarbone, the sting of his bite adding a sweet edge to the pleasure.

the dress slipped off your shoulders, pooling around your waist. his hands roamed over exposed skin, caressing and claiming. the feel of his touch on your bare skin was almost too much, every nerve thrumming with heightened sensitivity.

he pulled away from your neck just enough to look at you, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. "you are so beautiful." he murmured, his voice low and ragged. he moved forward, pressing kisses against your collar bone, then down to your chest, his tongue tracing patterns on your skin.

his lips found their way to your breast, and you let out a sharp gasp as he took a nipple into his mouth. he sucked and licked, his hands clenching on your hips, pulling you even closer.

the pleasure was intense, making your head spin. you arched your back, pushing yourself further into his touch. your hands were in his hair again, your fingers clenching tighter with every flick of his tongue. your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive and begging for more.

he released your breast with a pop, moving up to your neck again. he sucked on the sensitive skin just below your ear, his teeth grazing the pulse point. his hips were rocking again, the friction against you driving you wild.

"you're driving me crazy," you managed to gasp out, your words a tangle of pleasure. "i need you." his mouth was back on yours, his tongue delving deep. his hands continued to guide your movements, setting a slow, deliberate pace that drove you insane with need. with one other hand, his hand fumbled with the belt of his pants.

you broke the kiss, pulling away just far enough to look at him. “let me." you said, panting slightly. he looked at you, his eyes full of heat and need, but he nodded, his hands dropping to his sides.

you pushed his hands away, taking on the task of unbuckling his belt yourself. your fingers fumbled a bit, hampered by the haze of pleasure and need, but you managed to undo the belt and pull down his zipper.

the sound of the zipper seemed loud in the quiet room, full of promise and expectations. his eyes darkened as you worked, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

once the zipper was down, you pushed his pants down, your hands trailing down his bare legs. your fingers traced patterns on his skin, enjoying the feel of him, the heat of his body.

"tease." the word was barely more than a whisper, a rumble of need. his eyes were fixed on you, watching every move, every touch.

he groaned, his shoulders tense as he waited for your touch. your fingers slid under the waistband, brushing against the sensitive skin there. he bit his lip, a hiss of pleasure and restraint escaping through clenched teeth.

you shifted on his lap, making sure you were properly straddling his thigh again, feeling the muscle twitch under you. your hands pushed his boxers down, freeing him, and you could practically feel the anticipation in the air.

you took your time, slowly moving your hands along his length, feeling the heat and hardness under your palm. he let out a strangled moan, his head falling back against the mattress. his whole body was tense, taut like a bowstring, and you hadn't even really started yet.

"you're not gonna tease me all night, right?" his words came out in a strangled gasp, his eyes glazed with desire. he was at the edge of his restraint, his hands still clenched in the bedsheets.

"of course not," you replied, your voice a low murmur. "i just wanted to show you some of the same agony you've put me through all night."

you continued your slow, deliberate movements, your touch a tantalizing torture that kept him just short of the point of no return.

"please," he muttered, his voice rough. "i need more. I need you."

the plea was music to your ears, and you reveled in the power you had over him. for once, the normally calm and composed alex was completely at your mercy, his control shattered under your touch. you lifted yourself, sinking down on him.

he let out a guttural moan, his hands flying up to your hips as you sank down onto him. his touch was almost bruising, his fingers digging into your flesh. his eyes met yours, completely gone with pleasure. he looked wrecked, all control abandoned, completely at the mercy of the pleasure you were giving him.

you started to move, rocking against him, the motion driving you both wild. your name was a gasp on his lips, his head thrown back against the mattress. his hips lifted off the bed, meeting your movements, driving himself even deeper into you.

your mouths met as you leaned forward. the kiss was rough, more teeth and tongue than anything, but it was perfect. you could feel him losing himself in you, all restraint abandoned. His hands roamed your body, desperate to touch every inch of you.

his movements were as frantic as yours, each meeting of your bodies driving the pleasure higher and higher. you could feel the edge approaching, the culmination of all the tension and desire that had been building all night.

"oh fuck." you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. your own pleasure was teetering on the edge, heat and need pooling low in your stomach. "i’m gonna.. fuck."

his control snapped, and he surged forward, flipping you over so that you were beneath him. he captured your mouth in a brutal kiss, his tongue claiming and possessive. he was past the point of restraint, his movements driven by pure need.

your body arched under his, pleasure crashing over you like a wave. your nails dug into his back, a desperate attempt to keep yourself grounded, but it was futile. you were lost in the storm of sensation, the heat and strength of him overwhelming every one of your senses.

and as the wave of pleasure crested and crashed over you, you cried out his name, your body shuddering with the release. he followed a moment later, his breath coming in harsh gasps against your neck. he slumped against you, his body completely boneless in the aftermath.

you lay there for a long moment, both of you panting, the air around you hot and heavy. he rolled off of you, pulling you with him so that you were tangled together, limbs intertwined.

after helping you clean up, you both lay in bed. you in his arms and him playing with your hair. you lay there, content in the afterglow, your head resting on his chest. you could hear his heartbeat slowing down, the steady thump-thump-thump of it under your ear. his hands were gentle as they ran through your hair, the soft touch soothing and familiar.

he was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, but you knew he wasn't really seeing it. his mind was somewhere else, probably going over the events of tonight, the same way you were.

"you know, being at that wedding. it really made me wonder what you’d look like in a wedding dress." his voice was soft, almost absentminded. his fingers continued their slow, soothing strokes through your hair, as if he was trying to calm himself down as much as you.

your heart skipped a beat at the mention of a wedding dress. the thought of it had never really crossed your mind before, but now, lying here in his arms, it suddenly seemed like an incredibly appealing image.

"do you think about that a lot? me, in a wedding dress, i mean." your voice was casual, but you knew your heart rate had just kicked up slightly. you angled your head to look up at him, curious to see the expression on his face.

he was still staring at the ceiling, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "more than i thought i would," he admitted. "i like the thought of me putting a ring on your finger."

a/n: i haven’t proofread this so sorry if something is wrong lmfaoooo

[hippopotamusdreamer]

A Love So Profound

genre. [F] [A] [AU]

warnings. Two (2) curse words

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, nonidol!AU, Reader is 2 years younger than Chan

pairing. Brother's Best Friend x Bahng sister!Reader

w.c. 1.7K

synopsis. It's a beautiful reception and you make Felix absolutely feel

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

Felix stared with a fond look as you mingled about the venue. His fingers absentmindedly playing with the flowers on his lapel.

It was as if you were like a magnet, the way everyone gravitated towards you. He was aware that everyone compared him to the sun but the way you just glowed as you sat laughing with his parents.

He could only shake his head at the comparison.

As he turned away from the scene, his eye caught someone he didn’t think he would see that night. Excited, he made his way through the crowd.

“Hyung!” Felix greeted excitedly.

Hyunjin jumped as Felix clapped him on the shoulders. The taller man sitting in the nicely decorated chair of the wedding venue they were in. Right next to the bride and groom’s table.

“Yongbok-ah!”

“Hey man, so great of you to come out,” the Australian said taking a seat next to his brother from another mother.

“What and miss the wedding of the year?”

The both of them laughed as they looked back at you. You were still with his parents only this time his niece had joined in on the fun it seemed. He could see her clearly giggle as she played with your veil.

“She looks good,” Hyunjin said to the freckled man. “Who knew our little Y/N-ie could clean up well?”

Felix did. Even when they were all little kids playing in Chan’s backyard, he always knew there was something special about Y/N.

“Yeah, she looks great,” he agreed softly.

They continued to watch you as his niece decided it was time to dance. You were pulled off to the side of the table by the excitable 8 year-old, the both of you now giggling as you followed along with the child. Exaggerating in the way your arms moved with each other. You’d always been good with kids he realized. You’d probably make a pretty decent mom when you were ready.

Before he lost himself in his thoughts of the future, a voice interrupted their conversation.

“Felix, this place looks amazing,” Seungmin said, looking sharp in his tux, drink in his hand. The two older men smiled softly at the younger one.

“Thanks man,” he said earning a fist bump. “Y/N-ie was so worried about the decorations not looking right for tonight.”

“Yeah I know, I tried to tell her not to worry about it. That everything was going to be fine,” Seungmin said with amusement in his tone and a look of wonder on his face as he gazed around the room again. The color theme was mauve, powder blue, and hints of yellow.

After he found out what color mauve was, Felix thought it was a nice combination. And he wasn’t saying that because blue was his favorite color.

“What are you guys talking shit about?” Your voice had broken through everything in Felix’s mind. No matter when or where, he’d know your dulcet tones anywhere. And right now they were clear even over the music bumping throughout the venue’s speakers.

It seemed your little dance party was over as you came up to them.

“Y/N-ie!” All three men greeted you, each one giving you a hug. You lingered on one longer than the others, Felix’s heart skipping a beat in the process.

“We were just talking about your decorations,” Hyunjin finally responded. Felix watched as your brows scrunched up in worry and he immediately rounded towards his hyung with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong with the decorations, Jinnie?” Your voiced changed pitch as you frantically looked around, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. Even moving your way to stand by Seungmin’s side to check things out.

“No, nothing’s wrong with the decorations,” Seungmin reassured you, handing his drink over. “Just saying how nice everything looked. You did an amazing job bub.”

Your relief was palpable to all three of them and you gently took a sip.

“I couldn’t have done it without Lix,” you admitted while grabbing for the blonde’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. His hand tingled where you touched him, it was a feeling he’d never wanted to get over. “He’s been a rockstar throughout this entire wedding planning process.”

“I just did whatever you told me to,” Felix laughed gently.

“Nothing’s changed since childhood then,” Hyunjin joked which caused Seungmin to cackle out immediately. Felix could only push Hyunjin in retaliation as you chuckled behind your hand.

“Fuck off mate!” Felix cried out; grin plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry for not being more helpful though,” Seungmin lamented to the small group once the laughter subsided. “I feel bad about not being there for you.”

“That’s ok Minmin, I understood why you couldn’t help out much. It was my fault for planning a wedding during peak tax season. Who knew springtime was so important for accountants…,” you joked with a shrug, not wanting him to feel as bad as he already did.

Felix observed how Seungmin’s face became red with sheepishness. He knew that feeling well whenever it came to you. He watched on as Seungmin gently bumped his shoulder against yours, the gentleness that came from the younger man was a rare sight to see but never far whenever you were concerned. It was something only you were able to bring out in all members of your friend group.

A throat clearing into a microphone brought everyone’s attention to the DJ booth. There Chan stood in all his best man glory.

“Good evening everyone,” Chan greeted into the mic. “It’s almost nine o’clock and if it’s one thing my sister drilled into me, it’s that I have to do my Best Man speech right now.”

The older Australian easily broke the ice with a teasing joke that had everyone laughing it up.

“Chris!” You yelled out in embarrassment, smile on your face still.

“Anyways,” he continued with a cheeky grin. “For those of you don’t me, which would be weird by this point, my name is Chan but other’s call me Chris. I am grateful to be up here tonight as best man to the groom and brother of the beautiful bride. And let me tell you, what an honor, really, to be speaking on behalf of the happy couple.

When they first came to tell me they were dating, I had to take time to process what I was hearing. One of my best friends? And my little sister? Together?? I thinking to myself ‘how could they do this to me?’ But then I took a step back and actually saw how they interacted together whenever they thought I wasn’t looking. Saw the way he treated my sister with as much love and respect as anyone else in our family did. And I realized…that it wasn’t ever about me at all. Anyone who has ever met them can just tell how well they are for one another. They honestly bring out the best in each other.”

Chan cleared his throat then, trying to not show how emotional this moment was for him.

“This one time when we were way younger, Hannah and Lucas were too young at the time to remember this heehee but, Y/N-ah came outside crying, and I mean absolutely sobbing, up to me and the guys. At the time I didn’t know but it turned out she was upset because one of her favorite characters’ in a book she was reading died. And before little Channie could even do anything for her, this gangly little kid was the first one to help her in her time of need. Got her to stop crying enough to tell us what was wrong. She’d always been the sensitive one out of all of us…”

“I just found out Thorin died. I was grieving, ok!” you laughed at your past self. You made quick eye contact with Felix and shook your head with a grin at the audacity of your brother.

Felix remembered that time, too.

The were all sat in the Bahng family garage waiting for an ice cream truck to roll on by when you came crying out of the house. No one really knew what to do for you when you could barely even get your words out. Felix, being the empathetic one, immediately began crying with you instead. Changbin and Seungmin immediately trying to get the both of you to stop.

“I think it was from there that our wonderful groom always kept an eye out for my little sister. Standing here tonight, I understand why,” Chan chuckled. “Anyways, I’m so excited for you both and I’m so glad we could celebrate this special day with friends and family who have traveled from around two countries just for this night. So I say this with a full heart, I love you Y/N and Seungmin, love you brother, welcome to the family!”

As the guests clapped for Chan’s beautiful speech, Felix felt a pang in his chest as you happily turned to Seungmin. The taller man taking your hand in his as he gently set your drink down. He placed a delicate kiss to your hand before leading you to the dance floor.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming the newlyweds in their first dance as a married couple,” the DJ introduced.

As the beginning of a romantic song started to play, Felix felt his shoulders slump as he stared from the sidelines with a heavy heart. Could feel the force of his own smile as he watched the love of his life dance with someone who would never be him.

He still felt the tingle in his hand where you touched him earlier. Subtly, he brought that hand to his lips, placing a small kiss where your fingers connected. He allowed himself to feel the sadness well-up inside him with something he was too late to have. The sting in his nose and a lump in his throat something he had become well accustomed to whenever he was by himself with his thoughts of you.

It was with a deep and heavy breath that Lee Felix sat down and came to terms with his loss and the love that was just so profound.

a/n. Brother's best friend AU?? But it's the OTHER best friend??? Riveting stuff.

Tag list: @elizalabs3

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

[peachymilkandcream]

Movie! William Afton NSFW Alphabet

(A/N: The NSFW Alphabets are their canon events I cannot stop this I'm sorry T-T Also please read the warnings, I don't care if it's fucked my guy literally stuffed children into suits he's fucked up.)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, age difference etc.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) William is surprisingly considerate, when he has the time to be. Most of his life is wrapped up in the chaos of covering up murders and coming up with new machines that sometimes sex just becomes stress relief and he doesn't have time for more. However when he can be convinced to take time away he really does try and care about his wife and make sure she feels clean and comfortable.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Deranged psychos and their hands are a thing I'm telling you. The power in behind them is 100% a secret turn on they won't admit. And when you've made your career the work of your hands, (like child murders and a booming business) you can't help but pick that as the favourite. For her, he's not super partial but he really likes her hair, gripping it, pulling it, is what he daydreams about.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Let's just saw how else did they have four kids, cmon now. ;)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) While it's not inherently sexual William really loves putting fear into others, and he 100% has a r*pe fantasy that he puts her through often. (Although for her he doesn't tell her that's what happening so it's 'authentic') This includes fake home invasions as well when he gets bored of vanilla sex and wants to "spice things up". Poor girl lives in fear daily.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He has some before they met, mostly teenage mistakes when he had the time. After he started his career it was rare he did simply because of time. He knows enough of what he's doing, he knows how to make himself feel good and that's all that matters right?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) My guy is a ride or die missionary, reverse cowgirl is the only other he'll consider. Anything else is just uncomfortable in his opinion, and again it's about what feels best for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) William's very erratic so it really depends on the mood he's in, how his day has gone if this kids annoy him. He has been known to be more humorous on occasion but it's not often.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Let's be honest William only gets his hair cut because his wife does it, he doesn't have the time to take care of himself like he should, those are precious moments that could go to his work. So no, he is not well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) This again depends on the occasion, usually it's just stress relief so it's quick and usually not very romantic, but if it's a special occasion like an anniversary or birthday then he'll be way more romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Same as with his hair, he honestly just never has time XD

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Big somnophilia fan, probably a slight breeding kink, lingerie (especially stockings), hair pulling, choking, gagging, knife play 100% (he's a serial killer, I had to).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere in the house really, anywhere he can get a moment alone. He used to enjoy when she distracted him in his workshop in the basement but now those old parts bring back haunting memories...

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Her being a mother to his children, it warms his little black heart and gets him going. As well as any new sets of lingerie she buys or he buys for her.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) She wouldn't but if she tried to dominate him, he would nope the fuck out of there. My guy is an S tier misogynist and believes his wife should be beneath him literally and figuratively.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He prefers receiving simply because it plays into the whole gagging thing. Her gagging on his dick as he face fucks her is so hot to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) As stated before it depends on the occasion, special moments require more slow and sensual whereas annoyance or hurry is fast and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) His whole life is about quickies, having just enough time to get himself off is what he usually does.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He takes too many risks, if he's not careful he's going to end up hurting her.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Obviously when he was younger it was more, but now he's a one or two rounds at most guy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No no never, no matter what it is he's come to not trust machines around his loved ones anymore.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) If he's in a goofy mood he will, but most of the time he doesn't have time to sit and tease her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He's actually quite loud, groaning and even soft whimpers are his specialty.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) William has a thing for stockings because that's the first thing he saw her in and he started fantasizing how her thighs would jiggle in them while he was eating her out.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) I'd say he's above average, not too much but enough, he's slightly thick with a few smaller veins.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) His drive has really changed from wanting to have sex to wanted her to relieve stress. So because of all the stress he's under, it's pretty high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) William is out like a light after, dreaming about his victims or how he disposed of bodies. Solid sleeper while his wife lays awake plagued by waking nightmares of her own.

[damnfandomproblems]

About 6988: (TW for sexual assault, pedophilia, death threat mentions, and zoophilia)

You got brainwashed by antis. Antis have been the ones being exposed as pedophiles and even defended them. The anti lolicon people have stuff behind EDP445 because he said lolicon is pedophilia. For those who don’t know, EDP445 is a disgraced YouTuber who was caught TWICE trying to meet up a minor for sex. Once was a guy pretending to be a 13 year old girl, twice is where he tried to meet a real life 16 year old and sexted her. He SOMEHOW got a platform again.

There are actual pedophile rings on Twitter with adults meeting actual minors and using codes and emojis to hide what is actually happening, a proshipper pointed this out, and an anti was actively looking the other way and instead focused all of their attention on what the proshipper liked in fiction. Imagine that someone points out a pedophile ring and you see someone looking the other way because they saw someone’s taste in fiction and instead put 100% of their focus on that and not children being groomed and social media.

I have seen antis get caught being creeps. One anti was sexually harassing an ex partner while they were 18 and she was 15. Another anti who is a horror themed lewd V-Tuber (ironic) interacted with minors from ages 14 to 17 years old. Idc if you knew the minors as friends or if you’re 18, you should not be interacting with minors as a NSFW account.

I’ve also seen antis ENCOURAGE proshippers, who they THINK are “pedophiles” to go hurt real children. I’ve also seen them tell people to kill themselves over fiction. I’ve seen an anti tell a recovering self harm addict to “relapse.” I’ve seen too many antis tell sexual assault victims that they “deserved their abuse,” or they invalidated them.

Antis were also the reason why a non-binary artist I liked get ran off the internet all over what? A yucky incest ship? Seriously? THAT is the reason why they get ran off the Internet, meanwhile actual pedophiles still have platforms or have been given platforms?

Antis are also the reason why most fanfic writers quit because they don’t like the content they write.

Antis have been racist to said fanfic writers. Particularly, a south Asian writer who wrote dark fetish content who used dark content as a coping mechanism.

I’ve also seen an anti who is another V-Tuber get exposed for being a rapist, as they repeatedly attempted to have sex with an ex partner against their will while they were drunk and they ONLY stopped when their partner started crying. They also got off to their ex’s photos without their consent as well and cheated on their partner by sexting a minor.

Also, antis were strangely very quiet when it came to infamous zoophile Kero the Wolf coming back as a V-Tuber. For those who don’t know, I’m sorry for the horrors I’m about to tell you. Kero the Wolf was a part of a few zoosadist and zoophilia rings and even sexually abused his OWN DOG. Then, he made a half-assed apology (like that will ever reverse the damage he did to those poor animals and his own dog…) went into hiding for a very long time, then came back as a V-Tuber model and used a voice changer. Antis have not talked about this guy, and yet it’s the people who can separate fiction from reality (aka, proshippers) who spoke up about him.

THE LIST GOES ON. Do you STILL want to paint Proshippers as the “bad guys” and Antis as the “good guys” here? If you still think Proshippers are bad even after I tell you all of this, then idk what to tell you.

I don’t label myself as a proshipper. Because I think the label is stupid. Back then, we called it, “mind your own business,” and “Don’t like? Don’t look.” But hey, because of the state of the internet from 2016 to now, those labels and the ongoing “proshipper vs anti” discourse will still continue because we’re gonna keep letting it continue.

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

I’ve always loved the idea of Buck accidentally developing a fatherly relationship with Dallas because imagine being a Cowboy kinda guy in the 1960s and finding some rat stealing from your pantry and then whoops, that’s your new son! You’re stuck with him! You love him and you will be gutted when he inevitably gets himself killed because no one can take the wild out of an animal, especially not you and you are very aware of this!

I'm not going to lie, with all the awesome headcanons and lore being created about Buck I am SUPER conflicted about my take on him. I think having him act as a fatherly or older brotherly figure to Dallas in an alternate universe would add some really interesting depth to his character and offer a bit more insight into his motivation for doing and saying certain things. HOWEVER, that said, I think within the canon universe I couldn't really ever see Buck that way and there's a few reasons for that. For one, in the little we see from Buck we know that he displays none of Dallas' gallantry, and that he's weak. Canon Dallas would abhor that weakness, and we know he uses it to his advantage, bullying Buck to get what he wants. Even PONY knows this is a hallmark of his character as he 'bullies' Buck into going to get Dallas after Johnny stabs Bob. We also know that Dallas has a dad that wouldn't care if he died and that it 'doesn't bother him'- I can't see canon Dallas forming a father/son bond with someone only a few years his senior, or really anyone at all (remember, it was the Curtis' MOM he was canonically close to, not their dad). Finally, if we establish Buck as a fatherly/brotherly influence in Dally's life we lose some of the 'shown not told' elements of his character. Dally lives alone in rented room in a (heavily implied to be) illegal bar at seventeen years old, and he is stuck in this dangerous environment BECAUSE he is entirely self sufficient and has to take care of himself. Dally living at Buck's has always been (in my eyes) a way to further establish him as wilder and more dangerous than the rest of the Curtis gang and Tulsa hoods.

SIGH. Now I'm done yapping I can explore the fun world in your ask because it really DOES offer some fun headcanons/character work. Sooooo, here's some headcanons:

-Buck is (as we know) a cowboy, and he first establishes a connection with Dallas because he just unconciously treated him like a horse he was trying to tame and lo and behold it worked

-Dally only rides in the rodeos because BUCK talked to the higher ups and got him a chance at the position. It made Buck even more mad when Dally wouldn't help him fix the races

-Buck isn't sure if Dally is completely sane because he's seen one too many violent outbursts or mental breakdowns but it doesn't bother him much, because there's a lot of folks from the east side who aren't completely right in the head. What DOES scare him is the look in Dally's eyes sometimes when he pulls out his switch

-Dally is the only 'tenant' of Bucks that Buck ever drags back to their room when they pass out drinking at the bar (Dally is convinced he's just good at taking care of himself when he's blackout drunk. He isn't, but Buck isn't gonna be the one to tell him.)

-Buck looks out for Johnny because Dally looks out for Johnny, and Dallas might go full crazy if anything happened to the kid

-After Dally died, Buck hosted a party that lasted three days and nights until the fuzz finally shut it down (it was easier to drink and party than to think about the blond haired asshole Buck had grown to love)

-Buck is the only person besides Johnny who ever saw a softer side of Dally, and it wasn't because Dally was soft with HIM but the hoods' eyes were calm and his face almost happy whenever he went with Buck to the stables to groom the horses

thanks for the ask xx

[joesalw]

Hi, I'm an ex swiftie and I have so much to say about taylor swift. I have a lot bottled up inside and this felt like a safe space to get it out. I hope you don't mind.

I feel like taylor as an artist doesn't have an identity of her own anymore.

like billie, lana, sabrina, ariana, beyonce, shakira, britney, avril, olivia they all make a specific type of music. Although many of them have made genre bending music but It's common knowledge that not everything is for everybody. Now this is where miss swift comes in.

she was going great with her first three albums but then the shift from country to pop to alternate to pop again and now whatever the hell the toilet paper department is supposed to be has lost her off the rails. Her albums are more suitable to her boyfriends than herself.

red- jake gyllenhall ( indie record that's much cooler than mine) but red is actually a very cool indie record

1989- calvin harris (or one could say harry styles), he is known for making upbeat electro pop music

folklore, evermore- joe (listening to his interviews and the type of intellectual, introverted personality he has, not to mention he actually worked on the albums himself with her seems like the type of music he would listen to).

and TTPD about matty healy ( which is not the most flattering album)

her dating life isn't about her finding a soulmate or true love. It's about finding a temporary muse. she sticks to them like a leech and sucks until she's done and then moves on to the next victim.

I was actually very excited about midnights because it was painted as her "seizing her own identity" and "returning back to pop" especially with anti hero, lavender haze, mastermind and yoyok I felt like this time it was about her and her demons. not some villain in her life. It felt refreshing after her constantly victimizing herself. I loved the stupid "I'm the problem, its me" thing.

Now, after every breakup, her latest ex boyfriend has to pay the price for breaking poor little taylor's heart. But since she had been with joe the longest and during that long period of her time, she never said anything bad about him, put him up on a pedestal, she was so in love and content that we, the audience who have been with her journey with her numerous boyfriends felt like he was the one. he's the best one. there are no more problems. but then this does not last either. At first neither of them revealed the reason for the breakup. which was fine and it probably should've stayed that way because when taylor started to reveal more about it, that's when things started to go south for her

she tried to paint him as the bad guy. like he was such a terrible boyfriend, he didn't want to marry her because he was depressed boo fucking hoo. being depressed is not as big of a crime as she tried to make. It also doesn't help your image when you confess to emotionally cheating on the alleged love of your life about a fucking nazi.

Miraculously this time taylor didn't get away with it. She didn't get to date the nazi. so she proceeded to throw a tantrum on her latest "masterpiece" about how she hates her fans and she's so miserable and depressed. again boo fucking hoo. dragging old drama with kim and kanye out of which she came out the winner but also dragging their child into this?? (like what did the kid do to you?)

I hate how everyone conveniently forgot that taylor dated connor kennedy when he was still a minor (she was five years older than him) and immediately after his mother died, bought a house in his neighbourhood to get in his circle and crashed his cousin's wedding and when the groom's mother asked her to leave, she ignored her??(what kind of psychopathic behaviour is this?)

Not to mention the lack of support for palestine, after wanting to be on the right side of history, per formative activism, fake feminism, stealing candy from olivia who's like half her age or something, using sabrina to rub salt on her wounds, blocking charlie in the uk charts, and now trying to re-write history like "I wrote folklore and evermore alone on the phone with aaron and jack" Does this woman ever stop?

She lost a lot of respect with that one. The excitement i felt for midnights is gone. she hasn't changed, she will never change. But I'm tired. I can't keep up with her anymore.

Now what's going to happen? I'll tell you what. she and travis will break up and then she's going to drop another "masterpiece" and bitch and moan about how much of a terrible boyfriend her was. And its going to be in the genre that travis likes because taylor doesn't make music about herself, always about her boyfriends. She's not going to grow up. But I have. I can't put up with her anymore.

!!!

[quitealotofsodapop]

Bruh I was gonna write this as a ficlet but I ain't never gonna finish. Here, feel free to add or contribute if you please or enjoy:

This wasn't how Wukong's day was supposed to go. He was supposed to just do a quick flight over to the city, check his former brother's seal, and return home to another binge marathon of Monkey Cop and pigging out on peach chips. None of this successor stuff, none of this fighting to save the world bullcrap. Just a normal, regular old day of being completely alone aside from his younger and more feral subjects, the cubs often curling up on him or practicing their grooming. Just like he's done for the past 500 plus years.

His sister-in-law and her son finding a way to actually succeed in their quest to release his brother wasn't in that plan... neither was the unexpected reunion between Wukong and the little cub he'd given up all those years ago. Qi Xiaotian, or MK as he was known as, had grown up quite a lot in the years since he'd broken his own heart by placing a human disguise on him, sealing his powers away, and left him to the decendants of his late master and brother to find. Don't get him wrong, he hadn't done so out of neglect or because he didn't want to keep the cub. Hell, he hadn't even completely abandoned him either, consistently checking up on the little guy and keeping him safe from a distance as he grew. But he wasn't stupid either, the kid would have been miserable growing up with Wukong, would have never had a normal life if he was left with the old king, and that was the last thing Wukong had wanted for him.

Even so, seeing him suddenly appear out of nowhere had near made Wukong's stone heart jump out of his chest. Why his cub (Wukong firmly shook his head at the reminder that MK was NOT his cub anymore and he doesn't have the right to call him that) was even in that dirty alleyway climbing the pipes he has no idea, but at the moment Wukong had bigger things to worry about. Like his brother rising from the ground as his staff was lifted by some weird gauntlet his nephew had built and the fact he was in no way capable of fighting his brother again.

The kid promptly running away and then losing the staff in some hairbrained scheme to get it back to him after he picked it up hadn't been the best. Nor was the kid nearly being blown into a lava field by his sister-in-law and being forced to save him and carry him the rest of the way to Huāguǒshān hadn't been the best outcome either, but he'd take it.

He just wished it hadn't come at the cost of the kid discovering Wukong's secret. He had kinda figured it'd get out when the kid decided to try to return the staff to him, but he kinda wish it hadn't happened the way it had. The kid had seen him as he transformed back into his true form from his eagle form, which normally wouldn't be an issue, except Wukong had gotten up that morning and decided not to even bother brushing his fur or changing out of his pajamas.

Like he said, he had been planning a quick peekey weekey at the staff to make sure nothing was amiss and then binging his shows, nothing exciting or cleanup worthy. And considering his pajama shirt proudly proclaimed 'Baby on Board' there was simply no hiding the truth. Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, was pregnant.

Had been since before the Journey that truly made him a legend had even properly started, not that anyone beyond Guanyin or the Pilgrims had known.

MK had naturally been extremely excited to meet his idol and also quite confused about his condition. Wukong had just laughed off the matter for the most part. It certainly wasn't the worst reaction he'd dealt with in regards to his condition, Zu Baije had taken the cake for that one. And of course, Wukong had to be a kind host and lead the kid back to his hut, partially so he could change out of pajamas into something more fitting for company, while the kid rambled on about the Demon Bull King. It was during the walk back that Wukong had, essentially, admitted to spying on the kid.

And admitted to his own fault in getting the kid involved, confessing that he had sort of panicked in the moment. It was only fair that he fessed up, as he truly hadn't intended to put him in any true danger. He needed a distraction. Something to get that staff away from the IronBull Family, and the kid was the only available option. Especially when considering the more than likely negative feelings the IronBuul Fanily harbor towards Wukong and his precious egg.

He'd even complimented MK's handling of the staff, which was quite impressive considering exactly what Ruyi Jingu Bang actually was and the fact the kid had no prior experience with staffs or any type of weaponry as far as Wukong knew. The fact he could even lift the ancient artifact at all was impressive. He even joked that he might as well make him Wukong's successor for real after seeing that, after getting the staff back. That was a mistake. The kid took the joke seriously and decided that, since Wukong clearly couldn't fight in his condition, he would fight of Demon Bull King in his stead.

Wukong was almost impressed, if he hadn't been busy panicking over how BAD of an idea that was. MK is mortal!! He could get hurt! But apparently stubbornness is a common trait among Stone Monkeys and their ilk, because once MK had the idea in his head he refused to let it go. At this point, the best Wukong could do is damage control.

And by that he meant 'reign the kid in enough to get an actually viable plan up off the ground.' A plan that, upon reaching the city where the IronBull Family were beginning their conquest, and being surprised to see MK's friends rise to the occasion to try to fight the demon family themselves in the process, immediately went belly up in the water. The kid was supposed to stay back, let Wukong handle distracting the king while he got his friends to safety and snuck close enough to try to summon the staff from where it was being used as a battery in the generator DBK was wearing to power himself up. But then Wukong collapsed as soon as they landed, the multiple trips and carrying a teenager across an active volcano field being too much in addition to the baby that consistently drained his powers and the dao around it. Because of course Stone Monkey pregnancies can't be easy, right!?

Seeing the situation, MK promptly took Wukong's role and challenged the Bull King, leaving Wukong groundbound and trying to sneak close enough to get to the staff.

Then MK fucked up.

Wukong has no idea what the cub was thinking, but he decided to go for the generator himself, causing a massive explosion and a ton of property damage. And for Wukong, that resulted in a building falling on top of him. Luckily, Wukong is the Monkey King and was able to cast a last second protection spell upon his stomache to prevent his baby from getting hurt and he himself is immortal and mostly invincible, unfortunately he doesn't have the strength left between everything to get out from under the building. And he's fairly certain he has a couple of broken ribs and his leg is most definitely not supposed to bend that way. Meaning he was stuck, injured, and vulnerable out in the open with only him hastily throwing his dirty and ripped scarf over his head in a desperate attempt to stop anyone with unfriendly intentions, namely his former brother, from recognizing him.

In short, he was screwed.

See, an unfortunate truth about Stone Monkeys is that the reason they are

so rare in spite of their unique methods of procreation and power... is because it comes at a heavy cost. The stone egg that grows within a celestial primate feeds upon their very life force and the dao around them. Meaning that between the egg, multiple trips between his island and the city, and the work he put in to just keep the shrapnel from the battle form hitting any of the mortals who just had to stop and stare, Wukong had very little of his strength and power left to do something as simple as moving a couple thousand tons of rubble, debris, and shrapnel that was now burying his lower body. Some of which was digging painfully into his leg. Sometimes he wishes he had never let himself be redeemed, things would have been simpler if he didn't care about dorky mortals who foolishly hang out where they shouldn't be or pick fights with ancient demon kings.

"Hey, hey!" Wukong's ears perked as a voice shouted over the explosions of DBK's cannon. Blinking, he turned his head towards the sound, trying to blink past the dust and debris clouds that looked just a little too much like smoke in the waning light of the sunset. When did it get so late!? A large, stocky figure that would be considered short by most demons' descriptions but looked a giant in Wukong's own unglamorous opinion began to fade out of the dust around him, and bringing another sense of panic to him.

Zu Baije's decendant.

The monkey demon absolutely could not risk him seeing him. Being recognized in this vulnerable state would be bad news for him and his baby, that aside, he himself is msot certainly not mentally or emotionally ready to handle seeing a potential reincarnation of his brother! It doesn't take a genius, when one has Eyes of Truth, to realize the soul now running towards him through the debris shared the sound of his ancestor. Wukong squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of a way out fo this as the piglet fell to his knees next to him.

"Are you alright!? Jeez... what am I sayin!? Of course you ain't, a building fell on you! Hey, don't worry, well getcha outta here."

The pig was rambling as he took in the filthy orange fur and unnatural angle of the monkey's leg. Wukong forced a smile upon his lips, all teeth and praying it be reassuring. Time to try to convince him to leave.

"D-don't worry about me. I'm fine." Wukong coughed out, cursing the way his voice stumbled over the words. The pig did not seem convinced, or I pressed for that matter, with. Wukong's reassurance. Instead he collapsed next to the monkey demon and began digging at the debris.

"H-hey, what..." Wukong tried to weakly shove him off, "I said not to worry! A bunch of rocks isn't gonna hurt me, you should just get out of here yourself! The fight is heading in this direction!"

AHHHHH!H!HH!H!H!H!

@a-tea-goblin you seeing this!?

This is gotta be one of the best gifts i've recieved in a long while!

I love the descriptions of Wukong + MK instantly deciding "I protec you now." when he realises that the Monkey King isn't doing so great cus of the baby.

And Dadsy to the rescue!! You know Wukong is caught off guard - I love how you have him protesting getting helped the entire time. He's not used to people caring about him again.

Even if you never "finish" this as a ficlet, I immensely enjoyed what you wrote!