#i was a rim/e appreciator but this game is going to make me a rim/e shipper isnt it. fine whatever i accept my fate

[red-dyed-sarumane]

im already at like 51% in kamicity ensemble & im still losing my mind over the fucking "aww rime are u in love ur thinking about someone again" "WHAT. NO. also how did u know im thinking about anyone. but i do keep thinking about rim." "see u love rim" "NO. its the same kind of feeling i have for u and the others. why are u blushing" "u basically just said u love me" "NOT LIKE THAT. AS A FRIEND." "well i think its okay to love a human or a girl or yourself" this reads like a fuckign fanfic i cant believe this is official

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Okay okay okay. Pply ghostface TBABTO college road trip. Like the blank between the final chapter and the epilogue. The soft moments, the spicy moments, the e m o t i o n a l moments. Dialogue that makes you FEEEEEL. Pls I beg

AY! AY! SO! Sunny, dearest, darlingest, beloved Sunny! I am SO happy you asked for this! So like I mentioned earlier today is the two year anniversary of Two Boys Are Better Than One! I wanted to do a fic to help celebrate it right and this request is fucking perfect for it. This basically elaborates on the section in the Epilogue of TBABTO where our favourite triad takes a road trip off to college. It isn’t all spicy because I made it clear in said epilogue that stuff is on hold pretty hard while the boys heal up but there is some deff spicy stuff in here don’t worry! Either way, I love this, I hope you all do too! I think it’s got some good feelings, some good softness and overall great roadtrip vibes. Let’s get into it!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 5.1K. (I went in.) Billy Loomis X Stu Macher X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. TBABTO! Verse. Poly!Ghostface. Warnings: Softness. Fluff. Exhibitionism. So Much Exposition. General Road Trip Fuckery. Dumb Conversations. Emotions. Making Out. Grinding. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Dirty Talk. Mentions Of Rimming. Somnophilla. Picture Taking.

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Hitting The Road.

—

The drive kicked off with excited farefare.

The car had been packed well, all the important and vital personal effects stuffed in the trunk, tetris’d in just so to fit as much as possible without damaging anything. Billy claimed all his time playing that stupid block moving game made him exceptionally skilled at packing and while you and Stu scoffed he DID manage to get everything you all needed in the car. It earned a kiss on the cheek from both you and Stu before all piling in.

There is a truck that will meet you at your new apartment soon after you arrive with the remainder of your belongings, it was a long drive, a couple of days and you didn’t want to drive the moving truck yourselves. Mostly due to how fucking batshit your summer ended up being, you planned a solid roadtrip with some good stops to make up for some of the lost time and the regular car made this way easier.

This was also your first big outing since getting back together, not to mention the road trip to college even without all that is a big deal, one that should be rightfully honoured and appreciated.

You had missed your boys terribly and you were going to savour this.

You had barely made it outside the city limits and were already excitedly talking. Billy was driving the first shift, you were sitting next to him up front and Stu is in the back, leaning between the seats. You were all talking classes and what you were taking. You look over your shoulder to see what Stu is holding and you snatch it out of his hands. “Ooo class schedule? Let’s see.”

He lets you look it over and you start skimming, you spot the film studies class and look at him, turning the page around and pointing to it, “Really?”

“What?! Billy took it too!” Stu said pointing to the man next to you and Billy looks over at you. His one hand lifting off the steering wheel as he said, “What? I wanted us to have a class together and I needed an elective and it fit in with my other classes.”

You gaped at him, holding the paper to your chest, “You are both taking it? I can’t believe you are taking it without me!” You sounded hurt but it was all an act, just joking around.

“Listen you weren’t around when we were picking classes for obvious reasons! Maybe you can swap in?” Stu offered and you rolled your eyes, “I’m fucking with you, I’m all good, besides we talk movies enough as it is.”

You went on to say, “And knowing you two I will probably end up ‘helping’ with your homework anyway.”

“Like you are gonna say no to more movie dates.” Billy teased and you sing-songed out, “Guilty. You do know that any movies you are assigned you have to actually, you know, watch them? Not just fuck with them on in the background.”

“Damn it. She’s got a point.” Stu sighed and you continued on, “All the more reason I shouldn’t take it. I can see us now trying to watch something and having to fight you both off to actually take in the material assigned.”

You look further on the sheet in your hands and see Stu is taking a photography class, that piques your interest and leads you to ask with one word, “Photography?”

Stu leaned forward against your seat as he said, “Always kinda been into it, want to get more into it, seems really interesting.”

Honestly it weirdly fit him. You can totally see Stu around campus with a camera taking pictures of whatever strikes his fancy. “You already got a camera?”

“Yeah I just felt a bit, I dunno, weird about it? So I didn’t show you guys yet.” He admitted and you scoffed, “Stu, c’mon, if you are into it and want to do it seriously we are supportive, right Billy?”

“Totally.” He nodded, “Besides like I would ever say no to you taking some personal pictures as a gift sometime. You could help him out with that babe, right?” Billy’s hand gripped your thigh and you smiled at the contact and the implication. Stu chimed in, “Mmm yeah I think she’d make for a really interesting subject.”

You needed a distraction. You had agreed that the three of you shouldn’t do anything much physically while the boys were still healing with their stitches, and didn't want to risk a single thing going wrong again since you’d just come so close to losing them.

“You should take some pictures on our trip, Stu, get some practice in.” You half turned in your seat to get a better look at him, “You think?”

“Yeah! Capture some memories so we never forget it and all that sappy shit.” You reached into over and plucked out the folded sheet sticking out of Billy’s pocket. “Now what are you taking?”

You start picking through and see the first thing of interest, “Criminology?” You snort. “You gonna start murdering on the sly once you get ideas on how to better get away with it?”

“Never say never.” He teases.

On the drive goes and a few hours in you need to stop for gas and while that is happening, naturally, snacks.

You are standing in an aisle lined with treats of the salty and sweet variety, almost a little too cold from the air conditioner blasting, debating over what to get. You are listening as Stu defends the merits of cool ranch doritos to your shared and unconvinced boyfriend.

“Why do you want them so bad?” He asked, arms crossed and Stu said, “It's suuuuch a summer chip, also why do you care? I’m buying.”

“Because I have to kiss you with fucking dorito breath.” Billy grumbled and you laughed. “Well what is your go-to snack?" You asked and he plucked up a bag and said, “Hot cheetos, duh.”

Stu made a face, “Ugh you would.”

“Well sorry for having taste.” Billy fired back. “How about we ask her for a tie breaker?”

They both turned to you and you looked back and forth between them before shrugging and saying, “C’mon you should know me better by now, I prefer options, I say both.”

“Atta girl.” Stu said with a smile as you picked up a box of milk duds and some licorice and shoved them into his arms.

Billy seemed distatified by your answer but not much he could do so he simply said, “You would, you are so indecisive.”

“That indecisiveness means I am with both of you because I couldn’t pick just one. So I wouldn’t be dissing it the way you are right now, Loomis.” You tease and he rolls his eyes, a fond smile as he says, “Yes ma’am.”

Drinks and snacks procured and paid for you are back in the car.

You are driving for a bit. Billy is in the back and Stu is up front with you.

He had fishsed his camera out of the trunk when you were stopped and he is fucking around with the settings. You are messing with the radio when Stu turns to you suddenly and takes a picture of you with one hand on the wheel and one on the radio dial and you laugh it off, batting your hand weakly in an attempt to get him to stop. “C’mon-”

“No, no you encouraged this! You asked for this!” He laughed, still holding the camera up for another picture and you throw up a middle finger covering your face with it as he takes another picture.

He pulls the camera back and checks out the picture and says, “Jokes on you, that is a great look for you.”

“Why don’t you take some pics of Billy boy?” You ask and he says, “Great idea-”

He turns and Billy sighs but smiles as he is reclined against the seats and lets it happen, knowing it is easier this way then trying to fight both you and Stu on this.

He snaps it and looks it over, a wide grin as he says proudly, “Oh that came out fucking great.”

“Lemme see.” You asked, leaning a little closer, eyes still forward for the time being.

The road at this stretch is mostly empty, it’s safe enough, Stu turns the camera so you can see and you sneak a peek at the picture he took and fuck.

It did look good.

It reminded you of the pictures you’d taken so far, the ones you framed and gifted them, the first holiday season you shared and the ones you had kept for yourself. The ones you couldn’t bring yourself to burn during the break up.

The same ones you framed were wrapped carefully and lovingly packed away in your boxes, ready to be placed carefully in your new apartartment you were going to share with them.

This was real. This was happening. You were going off to college, to all live together.

Decorate it together, cook together, share your lives, this is a big next step.

You did it, they got away with it thanks to you, you were all here and present and working towards your shared future together. Your eyes broke away, back on the road ahead as you said with a soft smile, “Looks great Stu.”

“Yeah? Thanks babe.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on your cheek before setting back in his seat.

Even with the AC in the car you felt warm, happy.

You thought then about how Stu was going to take a lot more pictures to commemorate this next phase of your life and the thought of framing some from this very trip and hanging them on your walls has you feeling so much.

Fuck, you love them.

Another few hours of driving and casual conversation and music on the radio you stop by a park for lunch. Get out to stretch your legs, end up going for a walk. You get some hot dogs from one vendor and ice cream from another. You are walking alongside Billy as you happily were having spoonfuls of rich creamy cool delight, he asked, “You not sick of ice cream yet?”

“Nope.” You said easily, popping the “P” as you did. You looked up and said saccharinely sweet as you offered up a spoonful, “Not when I am having it with you.”

“Gag.” said Stu around a mouthful of hot dog and it made Billy nearly snort and choke on the bite he had taken that you’d held out.

You all continue to joke around and this feels so fucking nice.

The kind of date you missed while you were all broken up.

Soon you all sit near a pond, finishing up your lunch when some ducks swum up, “Ooh cute, look at them.” Stu is breaking off a piece of his hot dog bun and said, “I want to feed them.”

Billy says, “I think bread is bad for ducks.”

Prompting Stu to say, “What?”

“I think I’ve read that bread is bad for ducks.” Billy affirmed with a nod and Stu said, “I think that’s stupid.”

Billy leaned over, a playful shove of his shoulder making Stu fall onto his side as he says, “I think you are stupid.”

You are finishing the last bite of your ice cream as you said, “You are both so mature. What did you get on the SATs again?”

“Not important. Just let me feed the cute ducks some bread Billy!” He whined before saying, “If ducks don’t eat bread what DO they eat?”

“Vegetables, I hear frozen peas are good.” You piped up and Stu threw an arm over his eyes overdramatically, “You too?! Why are you both so against me?”

You can’t help but laugh at how right this feels, how cute and teasing it all is.

After lunch and back in the car you are driving.

It’s getting late and Billy passes out.

He wakes up to you and Stu singing along to something coming from the car speaker. He is sleepy and out of it but soon he recognizes it from that ridiculous camp horror movie you showed him and Stu months back, what was it called? Oh that’s right, Dead And Breakfast. He could clearly see that dumbass zombie cowboy narrator in his head, playing that guitar and half-rapping, half-country-crooning and it had him rolling his eyes.

You and Stu were clearly very into it and his voice still thick with sleep, he rubs at his eyes and asks, “What are you doing?”

“Ayy, he’s awake!” Stu said with a clap and you turned down the music as you told him, “We’re singing our song, duh.”

Billy woke up more at that, sitting up as he said firmly, “That is NOT our song.”

You laughed and asked, “Oh God. Dare I ask, do we NEED a song?”

“Nooo, Billy is right we do but this? It isn’t our song.” Billy clapped him on the shoulder as he said, “Thank you!”

Stu grinned so wide it nearly split his face as he said, “But it should be.”

Billy groaned flopping back against the seats, he should have known better that Stu would not take this opportunity to fuck with him,

You and Stu laughed hard before he said, “Okay, okay so what would be our song, seriously?”

You looked thoughtful for a moment before deadpanning, “Breakfast At Tiffanys.” That had Stu groaning and Billy laughing, well aware of how much he hated that song. He leaned forward as he asked, “Oooh how does that one go again, babe?”

And you said, “Oh yeah, like this-”

A deep breath before belting out, “-and I said what about breakfast at Tiffan-” which had Stu’s hand coming over your mouth effectively stopping you. So you took the chance to lick his palm and he looked over at you, “C’mon. I’ve had my tongue inside your asshole and you think licking my palm is gonna bug me?”

“The man has a point.” Billy admitted and Stu said, “Anyway, it should be One Week by The Barenaked Ladies-”

The brunette threw is hands up, “You and the fucking Barenaked Ladies! That sums up our relationship and is the height of romance to you? One Week?!”

“Well we DID all just experience a very emotionally tumultuous time and a big break-up, I think it fits more than some songs.” Stu finally pulled his hand away from your mouth and you asked, “Do you and Stu have a song just for you both?”

They both shared a look that communicated something, you had no idea what but something before they both said, “We aren’t at liberty to say.”

“What?! After all we said about no secrets?! I cannot believe you two!” You made a sound of mock disgust before they both jumped to defend themselves, talking over each other and you said, “Forget it, if you don’t want to share I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.” They both said and you sighed, “Anyway clearly our song should be Dick In A Box-”

And that is what made Billy break down and Stu almost cry laughing.

Soon after that you find yourselves pulling into a hotel to spend the first night. A nice place, Stu pays with no issue and you all make your way up with the bags you’d packed and get inside. The room is decently sized, the view is nice and it hits that you’ve never stayed in a hotel with them before.

This is exciting. Stu breaks away first and runs to the bed, flings himself onto it and you follow behind him. “This is gonna be so much fun!”

“Hell yeah it is!” Stu confirmed, fists up in the air and Billy looks you both over with a smile.

Room service happens for dinner that night. You all took showers and got into comfier clothing, watched tv and relaxed and took it easy. You glanced over at Billy as you said, “You know this is our first sleepover since everything went down.”

“You’re right. It’s a big occasion. Anything special you want to do?” Stu said, “Oooo they have a pool here! Swimming?”

“We don’t have swimsuits.” You said and he fired back, “Skinny dipping.”

He says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world and you say, “It’s a public pool Stu!”

“Oh pshhh, live a little!” You then say, “You still don’t have your stitches out, so it’s like a double no.”

He sighs, “Pay per view porn is a close second I suppose.” Billy snatches the remote back, “You’re not blue balling us. She's doing that enough as it is.”

You stick your tongue out playfully at him and Billy flipped you off in return, leading Stu to take that as another picture oppertunity.

You end up watching a movie, have some more food, more talking, a pillow fight and Stu taking some more pictures. You liked the one he got of you and Billy wrapped up in hotel robes and reclined on the bed, one of his arms around your shoulders and a towel still around your head.

Billy had taken some of Stu in return, claiming, “You can’t be the only one behind the camera.”

It is so fucking fun.

You all fall asleep curled up in the king sized bed hours later, far too tired after the long day of driving to even think about much else than sleep. You still had a long day tomorrow too.

You ended up having a hot, hot, hot dream.

A dream of getting to finally be with them physically again. Billy kissing you, Stu’s hands trailing up your sides, pulling you down onto him, filling you over and over. Writhing bodies, moans and praise, so much pleasure it is stupid. Heat fills you as they touch and take, fingers skimming over the most sensitive parts of you, it builds, climbs up and up and you wake up nearly on the edge, panting softly and slicked with sweat.

You wake up wet with your hand in your panties, clit throbbing against your fingers, you look over to see your two boys still asleep next to you. Eyes drag down and fuck, yeah it is early morning. You get quite the eyeful, the outline of their dicks painfully clear in the little they wore to bed.

The urge hits at once and you can’t help yourself. Even though your brain is screaming it is a bad idea, you said you’d wait, what if you got caught? You couldn’t hold back, no way. You bite your bottom lip, you want to reach out and touch and taste just like you had done in your dream. Fill your mouth with them and choke yourself on them.

Instead you decide to take care of yourself. You carefully touch as you are next to them, watching them sleep as you rub your clit slowly in soft circles, thinking about that dream you had and all you could do together.

This felt way too good, too hot, doing something this bad and this risky. You rubbed your clit harder, fingers dragged down and dipped into yourself, you bit back a moan as you fingered yourself, curling them just so inside yourself until you clenched down. Your other hand came down, rubbing your clit as your other hand fingered yourself. You were getting far too into it, holding back moans and breathing way too hard.

They looked so good, so peaceful, the emotion of being here in such a vulnerable position, safe in bed with them was getting to you.

You needed to stop before you got caught, you already were wanting to pull them closer and touch them which would go badly, no way could you stop once you got started.

You pull your hands away, slick with your arousal and you make yourself tear away and go to the bathroom. You close the door most of the way and sit on the edge of the tub, can see yourself in the mirror, hands back between your legs, panties shoved out of the way, rubbing and touching, back arching and you give in.

Can let loose a little more, some soft moans slip out, “Billy, fuck! Stu, oh my God-” you breathe out as you continue. You are able to touch yourself much more vigorously like this too, no risk of jostling the bed so much you might wake them.

The images from your dream flit through your mind, the pleasure builds, your legs tense, you pant and soon in a few short minutes you are cumming on your own fingers with a choked off cry of a mix of their names. It hadn’t taken long thanks to your dream and the touching you had done in your sleep. It felt incredible, almost floating on the high of it, hands slow and eventually stopped, pulled away and you sigh. Your hand comes up and you look at your hand, pull your fingers apart, the strings of your slick breaking apart between them before you hum and bring your hand up and sucked them clean. The tang of your own arousal thick on your tongue before you get up on shaky legs and fix your panties back into place. You leave the bathroom, still slightly out of breath and find them both awake in bed.

You flop into bed beside them sighing out, “Good morning.”

“Mornin’.” Billy returned and Stu hummed in acknowledgment. You looked them over and there was no sign that they had overheard or caught on to what you were doing. You leaned over, a kiss pressed to Billy’s mouth which he quickly tried to deepen, causing you to pull away, “Nooo, we said we’d be good.”

They both groaned and Stu said, “Yeahhhh, okay, okay-”

“I know, I know you miss this quality product-” You said with a gesture to yourself and they both laughed, Billy quietly repeating, “Quality product?”

“Yes, I said what I said-” Stu sighed with a smile, “I wish you wouldn’t have.”

You had just cum but you’d be lying if you didn’t want more. You offered up, “A little compromise maybe?”

And they initially were very excited by the prospect you proposed, the early morning make out session in the big hotel bed with wandering hands was great.

Strong hands and so equal, you starting off kissing Billy before you broke away and Stu took over and you leaned in and ran your tongue up the long expanse of his throat and yes it was very fucking nice.

To start.

It was less great when you all had to break apart, the boys still wanting and painfully hard and you trying to play off how wet and wanting you were.

You all dress, pack up, check out and get breakfast next door. All sit and share plates with eggs and hashbrowns and toast covered in butter and jam. You get back on the road, another long day of driving ahead.

At some point near lunchtime you fell asleep in the backseat. When you woke up slightly sore you were confused where you were. Turns out the boys took a detour to some shitty tourist trap, claiming to be the world’s biggest something or other. You get some more pictures, and end up in the gift shop. You all decide on what to buy and it leads Stu to say, “Awe our first glassware as a throuple.”

“They are shot glasses, Stu.” Billy deadpanned and you said, “I’m counting it! First drink the new place has to be from these!”

Back in the car there is more driving until lunch.

It’s a gorgeous day out. Billy has his head in your lap, you are playing with his hair as Stu buys the food. You both talk about what else you need for the place, “I think we should get a rug for the living room. I’m worried the couch is gonna scuff the floor up.”

“Why do you think that will happen?” he asked looking up at you, “I dunno based off how often we fuck on the couch and how agressive a certain someone can get with it-” you tug on his hair lightly earning a quiet, “Ow-”

“-I feel it won’t stay in one place and might move across the floor and cause some damage.” He had to admit you made a good point. “Yeahhh a rug might be a good idea. You opposed to rug burn on your knees?”

“Have I ever been?” You asked with a smile as Stu came back out with the food.

Lunch was fucking great. Enjoying the weather and each other’s company and once it was done, there was yet again, more driving. Billy is up front with you, one hand on your thigh, he had been teasing you a little.

“C’mon, you are fine, you’re all healed up. I bet you I can get you off one handed while I’m driving.”

Dear God did you want to take him up on that but you could see it all playing out in front of you if you gave in. You’d end up on the side of the road stuffed from both ends and you had to fight to give in. It is so fucking hard.

That afternoon the travelling is catching up, all a little talked out, long comfortable stretches of silence that feel so good. It’s great just getting to be in each other’s presence like this.

You drive a long time, have a late dinner and afterwards find yourselves pulling off the road, in a field, laying back shoulder to shoulder and looking up at the night sky together.

You are between them, holding a hand from each of them, you feel close to them, physically and emotionally as you lay in the soft grass and feel the cool breeze.

It starts to overcome and while the trip has been amazing, so fun and jokey, teasing, lots of hot and heavy moments, close calls but not a lot of the heavier stuff.

Right now you are feeling it.

“I missed you both so fucking much.” You said softly. It made them both look over to you. Holding their hands tighter. “We missed you too honey.”

“Seriously, it…It was so hard being apart and while everything all worked out okay I gotta be honesty I was so fucking scared. The whole time we were doing it and when you were both in the hospital.”

You sit up and take a deep breath. Unable to look at them, “I’m still kind of scared to be honest. It…This feels so good, this trip has been amazing and I’m dying for us to live together and do this next step but I’m still scared because it feels too fucking good to be true.”

You feel close to breaking down when you feel both of their arms slip around you. “It is real.”

“Yeah. We’re here. We did it, s’ true.” Stu sighed with his nose pressed to your hair. “I get it though. It’s hard to believe sometimes. I won’t lie, I keep on hanging off you and Stu because I just have to touch you to remind myself that it IS real and you are both here.”

Stu let out a wet sounding laugh. “Oh thank fucking God it isn’t just me.”

You all stay there longer than you should. Talking about your relationship, the summer you lost to being apart and to the exciting year up ahead. The picture you got together in the field with the timer set, you sitting stretched acaross their laps is your favorite of the entire trip.

You are so close, another few hours tomorrow and you will be at the new apartment. Everyone was too beat, you couldn’t finish the drive tonight. You needed another night in a hotel and you found one easily enough.

Driving all day and napping on and off in the car made you feel like you needed a shower. The boys graciously let you go first and you feel so much better afterwards. You get a terrible idea and come out of the bathroom naked, both of them are looking over the tv guide and it took a minute for Stu to look up, lightly smacked Billy in the centre of his chest and got him to look too.

You greeted them casually and easily and pretended to not notice how affected they were. You dug through Stu’s suitcase and stole one of his shirts and slipped it on before getting into bed. They were still watching you and you smiled wide, “You gonna go shower orrr?”

“Uh yeah, totally. Billy?” Stu got up, “Yeah right behind you-” and you let them both go with a laugh. “Be careful you two!”

They share a shower and are extremely careful as you asked, making sure not to disturb each other’s healing injuries or aggravate the stitches. They both shared the spacious hotel shower. Deep kissing, wandering hands, both insanely hard as they breathlessly talk about you between meetings of their mouths. “Wanna fucking wreck her so bad-”

“Same, God, why’d we agree to this shit again?” Stu groaned as Billy nipped at his collar bone, grinding against his hip and he said, “Because we put her through hell and it’s the fucking least we can do, it’s not that much longer.”

“Shit, I know you’re right but it’s so fucking hard, man.” Billy laughed into his neck as his hand slipped between their bodies, gripping Stu’s shaft as he said, “Yeah I can feel it, I know.” Stu ignored his joke but still exhaled harder through his nose in mild acknowlegment of it.

“Think we can talk her into helping us out?” Stu asked and he said, “I fucking doubt it but the idea is tempting me enough to try it.”

When they slip out of the bathroom the light from the tv is the only thing illuminating the room, you are dead asleep and they both look at each other and then out at the hotel balcony.

They sit out there, looking through the open door to you, asleep, shirt half up, both talk to each other, whisper filth of what they could do to you while you were like this and so vulnerable while they jerk off in the cool evening air. “Could spread her legs and you could hold her down.”

“I could eat her out till she’s on the edge without her waking up, I miss the fucking taste of her-”

It doesn’t last long and they both get into bed with you around a half hour later with the taste of each other on their tongues and pass out promptly wrapped up with you.

You all sleep in a bit later than you meant to but you all clearly needed it. After another quick breakfast you hit the road, ready as ever to face whatever was in store in this next chapter of your lives.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph! Would you happen to have any fic recs that involve John meeting the Holmes family? I always think that's such an interesting dynamic to see! Also, I think this goes without saying but I love your blog and appreciate your contributions to the fandom! Thanks!

Hey Nonny!

Ah, thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog!

Oooo! Yes, I love that dynamic too!! ANNNNND!!! You’re giving me the chance to make a part 2 for a REALLY OLD LIST!!! So YAY!!! I found a bunch on a text doc I haven’t posted yet, so HERE WE GO! Hope you enjoy, and as always, everyone please add your own!

PARENTS AND FAMILIES Pt. 2

See also: 

Parents & Family

Meeting the Family With a Fake Relationship

Do You Love Me? by whitchry9 (K, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Family, Epic Bromance) – John asks Sherlock perhaps the most important question.

Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...

Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he's been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w., 1 Ch. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.

The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all. (TO READ)

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton  (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[rootin-tootin-cum-shootin]

Dating Headcanons for Aomine and Kagami

In honour of my dear friend Jackie @todorokibois​ finishing her rewatch of Kuroko no Basket, and the accompanying Ace Brainrot she has as a result, I have made this. Is it stupid long? Yes. Did I have fun making it? Yep! Am I going to have her screaming at me tomorrow? Absolutely! Anyway! Enjoy this monster of a headcanon folks!

Aomine Daiki x gn!reader x Kagami Taiga

Wordcount: 2,540

Kinda an awkward fellow at first

He has the emotional awareness of a brick wall so he's not exactly the most in tune with his or others feelings

It would take quite a bit for him to even realize he has feelings for you

Oh man but once he does?

All those feelings he was denying or ignoring hit him hard and all at once

As if Daiki got hit by a bus (a bus made of feelings)

Once he has acknowledged that he likes you

Well, then he gets a little more awkward

Because he has no real clue what he is doing

He has asked Momoi about what he should do, considering she's the more emotionally aware one of the pair

But her suggestions largely consist of classic and almost stereotypical wooing gestures

So with her generic advice in mind

He will buy you flowers and ask you if you would meet him for coffee at "that one place you say you like"

(Like he totally doesn't remember the exact name, location and your regular order after you mentioned it a couple times)

Once you'd get there he would have your drink already ordered, with a nice snack for you there too

And as you sit down to chat and eat, he would hand you a nice bouquet of your favourite flowers

And ask you if you would like to go on a date with him sometime

If you don’t want to see a flustered Daiki, don't mention how this meetup for coffee could be a date.

He will have steam coming out of his ears, because he will internally malfunction.

Daiki will actually be genuinely suave once he figures out he doesn't need to be so performative all the time

You like him for him, not because he acts like a character from a shojo

Honestly there's nothing he enjoys more in this relationship then getting to see you smile

Listens to you so well, he is always attuned to you.

He will play every gift he gives you off as if he didn't remember you talk about how much you loved that piece jewellery because it reminded you of something a character wore in a few episodes of your favourite childhood cartoon one time 2 months ago

And he definitely didn't pick up extra jobs in order to get the cash to pay for it

No way, it was completely a coincidence.

As you may have guessed, the ever blunt and arrogant Aomine Daiki's love language is gift giving

He just wants to see you smile

And if making or buying you a little trinket just because it reminded him of you will do that then so be it

Daiki would honestly pay any amount of money or spend any amount of time if it meant he could make sure you felt loved

Dates are often spent with the two of you just chilling around the house

Netflix and take out on the couch while you wear your PJs? His favourite way to spend a Friday off

Dates where he tries to make you dinner from scratch? Yes please, he wants to impress you through your taste buds. (Which doesn't always work the way he wants)

But he does love to take you out for lunch or dinner

He will offer to pay for everything anytime you go out

Speaking of paying even if you insist on going Dutch

He is absolutely going to attempt to pay before you can even get your wallet out

It honestly becomes a game for you two to see who can pay for dinner first.

The only time he actually lets you pay on a date if say you're going to be driving some distance for a special date

Then he's chill if you pay for the snacks while he pumps gas on your way to that festival in the next city over you both wanted to attend.

He tries so hard to be a gentleman around you

You make him more humble, and he wants to be the best version of himself possible for you. Because you make him want to put in the effort to better himself.

But all that goes out the window the moment you attend one if his games

Then his usual attitude gets even worse, he becomes an actual monster when he plays on the days you watch

The pride he feels when winks at you as he scores the final basket of the games.

Its subtle but its his way of saying "See that babe? That was for you"

This man also lives for post games smooches

His team hates it (they're jealous because you two are so damn cute)

But he will always press his forehead to yours, and ask breathlessly if he can kiss you

Once you say yes, he leans in slow and with a ghost of an I love you resting on his tongue shows you just how he feels

His hands steady on your waist, holding you close as his lips press against yours and takes your breath away. The way you some how always manage to take his away every time he looks at you

When he pulls away for a breath, your noses touching, your lips still millimeters apart, he will tell you that he loves you

All in all, he may not know exactly what he's doing, but man is Aomine Daiki in deep. He wants nothing more than to be the light in your life that you've become for him. Please take care of this Ace's heart, he's trying his best for you.

Taiga is genuinely intense when he likes you

To the point where the moment he knows he likes you, you know too

Now to other people they may think its embarrassing, but he honestly doesn't care

Once Taiga's sure of his feelings for you the man could care less if other people knew

Because why should he hide away how he feels for the sake of other people

Arm wrapped around your shoulder as you walk beside him

Always offering to help you out even if it makes him go far out of his way

Actually telling you straight to your face that he's doing all these things because he has feelings for you and wants you to reciprocate them

Taiga really can be a tactless dumbass sometimes but, hey at least its cute how he's trying to woo you

He wouldn't immediately ask you out though

No he saves that for when he's sure you reciprocate those feelings

Because let's face it, if Taiga likes you, you're most likely already his friend

So when he attempts to pursue you romantically, it is literally everything you could want

He'd honestly know just how to not only fulfill the things he knows you want and even daydreamer about having in a partner while still making it genuine to who he is as a person

Now his love language is absolutely Quality time

So when you two are hanging out together, you have his undivided attention

Taiga honestly would schedule time in his training regiment's schedule when he's preparing for tournaments

Even if its just a 30 minute phone call

He sticks to it

And when you do start dating, he ensures that you go out on a date once every two weeks, minimum

Stay in dates are accepted and appreciated

In fact it was on one of those stay in dates where he asked you to be his significant other

He also texts you quite a bit

Even if its just to say "I know you're busy but make sure you remember to stay hydrated"

Or to send you a cute picture of #2

When you do go out, its usually to do some fun or spontaneous event

A pottery class? Sure why not

Rock climbing at a gym? Let's try it out, maybe you'll even catch each other falling so you can make a corny ass joke

A Tango class? Why not! It could even help with his footwork in basketball

Taiga just wants to spend time with you so he s down to try anything you want at least once

So as long as you're excited for it he'd be happy to accompany you

Even if its just to go get groceries.

He's not terribly jealous by himself, but sometimes if you're out on a date and he's feeling like he hasn't seen you enough in recent weeks

He might steal your attention back from whomever you were speaking with.

Will take you to professional level basketball games

Heck one time you two went to see the Harlem Globetrotters and it was one of the best nights of his life

The both of you were amazed by the tricks and laughing along with the jokes.

You both even got a signed ball after one of trick shots ricocheted off the rim of the basket hit him on the head.

You two have a custody agreement for that ball by the way

But hey that was the risk of sitting court side, and at least it was a great memory

By the time you two left the gym, your cheeks hurt from smiling so widely

And as you two discussed the event as you walked back to his car, the streetlights hitting your face just right

In that moment he realized that he was absolutely and intensely in love with you.

It was honestly really sweet. But did he tell you how he was feeling? N o p e

But speaking of basketball

You are invited to every single one of his games

He wouldn't be mad if you couldn't come to every one, but he hopes that you would come support him at his big tournament games

On the days you go, he plays about 1000 times better

Riko loves those days because he listens to her and the Hyuga when they propose strategies without complaint

She especially likes it because he never loses when you show up

Yes she does ask you to go to every game and practice Seirin has.

And after every game, he takes you out for dinner. Even if its just at a 24 hour fast food joint. You two share a meal after each and every game you attend

He honestly looks forward to those times more than the actual games sometimes

Taiga isn't the type for extreme PDA but you bet your ass he loves to kiss you

No matter where you are, if you’re out together, he's giving you kisses

His hands resting on your cheeks, delicately stroking your skin with his thumbs

As he tenderly presses his lips to yours, passion and adoration oozing from his kiss

Because even though he has a hard time saying how much he loves you

The emotions he can't quite find the right words to say all come through with every press of his lips against your skin

All in all, dating Taiga would be fantastic, he's caring, considerate and always confident in both you and the relationship.

Now let's start off by saying Taiga becomes so much more jealous when he realizes Daiki is also pursuing you

The pair immediately turn it into a competition

If one of them buys you lunch, the next day the other is taking you for an expensive dinner

Taiga asking you to go to one of his games again? Sorry Daiki already asked you to go to his on that day

Daiki asking if you wanted to watch a movie at his place? Nope! Taiga bought & gifted you tickets for the concert your favourite band was putting on and had asked you to go with him months ago

Lord help you if they're playing against each other

Both will show off to the point its detrimental to their teams

You thought they were intense before? HAH! The tension between them is almost crushingly heavy now

(There's a reason for that) They bet that whoever won would be the only one to take you out for a month and the other person can't even ask.

Yes that bet is dumb

Yes their coaches kicked their asses for how they're behaving

After that they realize that maybe they shouldn't fight over you like you were a prize to be won

Because they both notice how much seeing each other fight like that hurts not just their relationships with you

But how it hurts, you in general

So with heavy and begrudging hearts they set their romantic rivalry aside

And come to you hearts in their hands and ask you if you'd give them both a chance

Because they recognize that at this point, if you haven't picked one of them

You probably aren't going to choose just one of them

And they would be damned if you chose to just walk away because of how they were acting

So after some explanations of their jealousy towards the other boy on their parts

And you willing to forgive their weirdness

You are now the happy owner of not one puppy of an Ace as a boyfriend.

But two doting Ace boyfriends!

Their individual relationships with you are mostly the same as above

But there are a few throuple dates, where you all go do something together

Heck sometimes the boys will do something without you and have little boys dates

By god can they be protective of you

Creepy old man staring at you? Taiga and Daiki are already glaring at him like nobody's business

Getting hit on and are uncomfortable? Daiki is dragging the person outside to beat the shit out of them while Taiga makes sure you're okay and feeling safe

They actually make a great team in terms of the relationship. Working in tandem to make sure you're happy, healthy, safe and feeling loved

The cuddle piles you find yourself in, are exquisite

Your back smooshed against Taiga's chest and Daiki's head resting on the top of your head while he holds you tightly

Who needs a blanket anymore? Certainly not you my dear, you have two very hot Aces to keep you warm now!

And you bet your ass those two will eventually end up kissing each other

Because well their competitive spirit towards each other never truly went away

Now their competitions look more like "who can kiss our significant other more"

(BTW the score for that one is Daiki III Taiga II, because Taiga fell asleep 3 hours before you and Daiki did the last time they played that game. Taiga still hasn't forgiven his brain for that)

The boys eventually come to terms with the fact that they think the other is hot, and sometimes (ie. Most times) they want to kiss.

They will absolutely deny it if asked by anyone but you. Because they don't mind you seeing them smooch, because then you may join them in the makeout session.

They may say they're as straight as an arrow, but every arrow has some flexibility to it under the right circumstances.

All in all its actually a really healthy poly relationship, once they get their heads out of their own butts that is

[clonecest-bin-account]

Assorted Clonecest Fics - Game (Cody/Rex | Hunter/Fives | Hunter/Cody) | E

(Fic under the cut!)

“Hunter! Fuck! S-Slow down!” Fives can’t help but to mutter, but Hunter doesn’t listen to him, not when his pride is on the line.

Well, not that the situation is this serious, but he’d still like to win: after all, who would pass up a chance to fuck Marshall Commander Cody himself? Only a fool would do it.

They have an agreement, he and Cody, a game of sorts: they’ll spend the night together with their partners, and whoever makes them come first will get to fuck the other. Everything has been discussed and is consensual; after all, they’re all pretty open to new partners, and this time, things aren’t different.

So no, Fives, he can’t slow down, or else he’ll miss his chance.

He does lower himself to softly kiss his lips, as if to ask forgiveness for his roughness, but he doesn’t stop pounding inside him.

 Rex, on the other hand, doesn’t even try to speak. He’s already way past that. All that comes out of his lips are a series of weak whines, not even moans, as Cody hammers down his ass with a striking precision. It’s like he’s fucking his brains out.

Even if he could speak, he’d just tell Cody to go harder, to go faster, because he, unlike Fives, is a big boy and can handle his internal organs being rearranged.

The position is beginning to get a bit tiring, since he’s got to stay on all fours and all that, but it’s not too bad: if he gets tired, he can lay down and let Cody do the work - after all, it’s not like he’s doing much else anyway.

In and out. In and out. Fuck, he’s close…

 “AAAAAAH!”

It’s all over when Fives screams, coming under Hunter’s unforgiving thrusts. And still Hunter goes on and on and on until he’s ridden all the high.

Only then he stops, sending a victorious grin towards Cody, because he really managed to do it. He’s won.

He opens his lips to say something, but Cody raises his hand, gesturing him to wait, so Hunter does it. Cody’s attention moves back entirely to Rex, and he pushes, pushes and pushes, until Rex too can’t hold back anymore, and with a strangled moan, he comes too.

 Meanwhile, Hunter is tending to Fives, kissing his lips and caressing his body. “You’ve been good, so good…” he drawls against the other’s lips, making Fives smile.

“Happy I could help,” he mutters, unable then to hold back a yawn. “Though you kriffing wrecked me.”

Hunter chuckles, giving Fives a kiss on his forehead. “But you loved it.”

At that, Fives jokingly rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything, because Hunter’s right. He loved every single moment of it.

And now, he’ll get to watch him get frisky with Cody, which will surely be a nice show, one that he intends to fully enjoy.

 Only after Cody has soothed Rex, smothering his hair and leaving a gentle trail of kisses along his back, that he turns himself to Hunter. “So, I lost…”

Hunter smiles to himself, and he lays down, a smug expression on his face that betrays the calm tone with which he speaks. “You don’t seem that broken up about it.”

“Well…” Cody mutters, crawling towards where Hunter is situated, not wasting a second as he climbs on his lap, “one must know how to adapt.”

Hunter looks at him, intrigued, but his attention is soon drawn by Cody’s body, as he brings both hands to his ass, squeezing it, then his strong legs, holding him there - not that he seems to have intentions of moving away. “Lemme look at you,” he says then, raising one hand under Cody’s chin, forcing him to tilt his head back, arching and exposing his body. Cody softly laughs but lets him observe all he wants, though he can’t help a small whine when Hunter mouths at his nipple, lavishing it with attention, and then doing the same to the other.

“Weren’t you supposed to fuck me?” he eggs him on then, but Hunter doesn’t reply to him, making him huff, but otherwise, he just lets him do his thing despite the fact that he’d like him to get a move on.

Oh well, he supposes it’s within Hunter’s rights to enjoy his prize.

 Eventually, however, the time comes for them to get on with it. Cody hums appreciatively when he feels wet fingers circling his rim. “Oh, I thought we were just…” he begins, but Hunter interrupts him before he can continue.

“I’d never go in raw. This has to be good for both of us.”

“How kind of you,” Cody replies, though soon a whine makes its way out of his lips, when Hunter pushes a finger inside.

Oh yeah, this is definitely going to be good.

 They’re both so eager to get it going, that you could argue that the preparations are a bit rushed, but they don’t mind. Though when Cody beings to slowly slide down on Hunter’s cock, he does regret it a bit; just a little though, since he’s more than capable of handling a bit of pain. “Fuck…”

Hunter, on his part, is completely enjoying the show of Cody impaling himself on his cock. He can’t lie, he’s thought about this multiple times, and to finally have it become true…

 He gets distracted only momentarily by the sound of kisses that are lazily exchanged between Rex and Fives. They both still look out of it, but they’re slowly recovering and having some fun on their own. Good for them.

 A hand settles under his chin, forcing him to turn his head. “No distraction,” Cody reprimands him, though he looks more amused than anything.

Hunter doesn’t reply at those words; he just pushes his hips up, getting that last inch inside Cody, who squeaks from the surprise. Adorable.

After getting one arm around his shoulders, using it as leverage, Hunter begins to fuck into his heat as wildly as he did with Fives, making Cody howl and moan. His thighs quake every time Hunter thrusts right back inside, and Hunter runs his free hand over one of them, feeling the muscles under his touch. Cody has such nice legs.

 With the build up from before, neither of them lasts that long, but they sure make up for it with the intensity with which they push back against each other, they kiss, they moan in each other’s mouths.

“Are you gonna come on my cock?” Hunter whispers to Cody’s ear, making him shiver and whine. Even though he doesn’t say anything, the way he keeps pushing back so that Hunter can penetrate even deeper inside him is answer enough.

He pushes and pushes, until the tension that has been building up inside him becomes too much for him to hold back, and so he comes, filling Cody up with his cum. Cody throws his head back at the sensation, but he doesn’t stop moving not even once, milking every last drop out of him, until he too comes, completely untouched.

 He collapses on Hunter, who of course catches him. He wants to tell him how amazing this has been, but he finds himself unable to speak. Holy shit, that was mind blowing.

A small whine escapes Cody’s lips when he pulls out, but apart from that he doesn’t react much at all. It looks like every single one of them still has to recover from what just happened, huh? Fair.

 Thinking about it, Hunter supposes he could use five minutes of rest himself, actually. Yes, that would be very nice.

Tag list: @maulusque @captainrexwouldnever If you want to be added feel free to let me know!

[hanawrites404]

One Dance

Game : The Arcana

Pairing : some slight hints of various pairings

Characters : Asra Alnazar, Nadia Satrinava, Julian Devorak, Portia Devorak, Muriel, Lucio Morgasson, Wynne Toprak, Lyra Slaquer, Sèbastien Slaquer, Raymond Slaquer (the Slaquers belong to @the-soupiest-artist) and Maura Hickey (who belongs to @puzzle-piece-angel)

Warnings : None

Timeline : Modern-Dance AU

This story is based of this song :

And this story is an introduction to the Vesuvia Dance Company and its members, so come along and let's see what does it have in store ✨✨

3rd person POV

"Tch. Boring......."

The wind whooshed against her as she tucks her flowing strands of hair behind her ear. She was leaning against the railings of her balcony, her hands resting on the cold metal as she examined her painted black nails.

To her, black was always the perfect colour. And she nearly never altered it to any other shade. It would be too tedious again.

The woman crossed her legs as she drank her Limoncello from the rim of her glass, the bubbles of the alcohol fizzed inside. Her throat bobbed with every sip and jingled the translucent crystal attached to her dark choker. The liquor quenched her dry throat, pricking it with its gas bubbles and bitter taste as she sighed the cold air.

The sparkling alcohol matched with her eyes as they stared upon the heads of the people walking past her apartment from the balcony. The cars driving away looked like playthings to her, and the trees swaying against the soft gust seemed like shrubs. Nothing was of interest to her outside as she continued to drink her beverage and blink away the yawn from her eyes.

She thought of going to bed again since she had nothing to do either inside or outside, but then a simple phone call from her friend changed all her plans.

"What is it Asra?" She answered, not a good afternoon, not even a hi. She wasn't in a mood for this.

"Heya Wynne! How are you doing first of all??" The person from the other side of the phone didn't seem unfazed by her disinterest because of his experienced friendship with the woman. She sighed and replied, admiring her nails again. "Nothing much, just passing my precious time as always" she chuckled at the last phrase. "What about you? What's the occasion for calling me?"

"Well, I missed you dearly-"

Wynne instinctively made an expression which spoke out 'Oh really?'

"And I have something to propose to you"

The girl blinked from curiosity and pulled away from the railings, walking inside her penthouse, still holding the glass of Limoncello and her phone near her ear as she told him to continue.

"So! You and I both know how much you love to dance right? You have also given performances at your workplace and you just love to lose yourself to the club music. You are a very awesome dancer, Wynne. And you don't mind showcasing your moves to everyone"

"Yeah, so what?" Wynne rubbed her temples, Asra was sure taking his sweet time and her forbearance.

"Well, I have sort of an offer for you. Why don't you meet me at the address I'm gonna text you and I'll spill everything when you arrive"

"Wait what?!" Wynne places her hand on her coffee table, her voice of disbelief and bafflement. "You got to be fucking kidding me Asra. Please tell me what is it and don't you dare cut off like this"

"Sorry Wynne, but I am busy. I promise I'll tell you everything there. Goodbye!"

"Asra! ASRA!!!" but she was too late.

"UGH, fucking bitch....." Wynne snarled as she clutched her phone tight in her palm. The device then vibrated in her hand and she rolled her eyes, opening her phone to find that Asra had sent her the destination in their chat. It was an address that was unfamiliar to Wynne, and thanks to the wonder which had already accumulated in her mind, she growled, and finally decided to reach the place.

Wynne swallowed the last sip of her drink and looked down at her clothes. Assuming that Asra was calling her to a public place, she decided to change from her casuals to a sleeved black crop top and matching palazzos and chunky heels. She combs her blue hair and applies her dark lipstick before grabbing the keys of her old red Cadillac, and she descended the stairs after locking her house.

"Asra, this better not be a prank or I will slap you to grave" she murmured grimly as she started the engine of her car and drove to the address. With a bit of traffic and breakers in between, it took her somewhat half an hour to reach an unknown college building. Now, why would Asra call her here? Was it perhaps for a college reunion? Then why was he talking about dancing? She had so many questions, and Asra owes all the answers to her after leaving her hanging on the phone like that.

"Winnie!! Over here!!" The woman turned her head to the call to find her best friend trotting while waving towards her. It didn't take her long to notice the tie-dyed rainbow shirt and glitter pants with sparkle sketchers, as Wynne just nodded and waited for Asra to finally stop by her car so she could give an earful to him for leaving her edged at the cliff. But calming her urge to denounce him, she patiently asked.

"Alright, I'm here. Now what? Why did you call me near a college?"

"A college?" Asra snorted and burst into a laugh. This made Wynne even more confused and annoyed as she snarled silently and eyed him, unamused. By phoning her at an unknown place when she was in a particularly bad mood only to laugh at her, she had set up her mind to drive away right in front of him and crush him with her car. But then, he luckily spoke on time before she could act her frivolous murder.

"Boo, this is not a college. It may look like one, but it's not. Trust me" Asra winked at her. Wynne, still being unamused, leaned her forehead against her fingers as she replied lethargically.

"Well, what is it then? Care to explain after calling me here without any proper explanation?" She already wanted to leave honestly. And can't she just sleep?

"Of course. If you would follow me, Milady" Asra being the gentleman offered his hand out to her though he was aware of Wynne's already increasing irritation. He stayed patient because he didn't want to reveal the surprise yet to her. The vexed girl grunted again and got off her car, placing her fair hand over his tanned one. Asra gently squeezed her hand in his with a warm smile on his face. That seemed to lower her irritation as she squeezed his hand back. Asra with a small blush spreading across his golden cheeks led her near to the campus, and Wynne followed him gradually.

Soon both of them were near the polished mahogany doors after passing the lobby inside. And before he could enter, Asra checked on his friend with another appreciative smile. Wynne raised her eyebrow. To her, Asra looked very gladder than usual. Though he was known to be a happy guy, he looked....... exceptionally optimistic today. Was today someone's birthday? Was today her birthday? She had no idea what the hell was going on and what the hell was wrong with Asra.

"What's the matter?" She asked. She sounded calm, but inside she was bubbling with novelty that what exactly he had in mind.

"This is not a college, Wynne" Asra repeated what he said before.

"Yeah, so what? Please don't pull another suspense now" the woman placed her hand on her lip. She loved the suspense, but too much of it makes her feel lazy.

Heh, as if she wasn't feeling lethargic already.

Asra chortled and patted her head, and he finally pushed open the huge doors to uncover something imperial, stupendous and incredible enough to leave Wynne's mouth gaping and her eyes caught mesmerized.

Inside the so-assumed as college, was a tremendous majestic dance theatre of what looked like belonging to a prosperous french period. It glittered with gold and red, as a satin rose sprinkled with dewdrops glimmering of sunshine. The walls were delicately painted with a royal maroon gloss and regal purple imprints of what left an impression of lavender flower. Even the hall gave off the scent of apricot and apple orchards. The hefty velvet curtains hemmed the rectangle stage elegantly, the spotlights modern, and the footing was simply immaculate.

"Asra......This is-"

"Alluring? Captivating? Hypnotising??? Is there any other English word I am missing??"

"Well, I would say that yeah. But...this place is like a fantasy!!" Wynne exclaimed as she idolised the beautifully festooned and pleasingly symmetrical ceiling. "I know right? Told you so. I'm glad you liked it. It's one of my favourite places to stay at" Asra joined her as she entered in, the click of her heels grating into the carpets of the theatre.

"Yeah......it's like this has come straight from the golden era of art. Like in one of my school history books! I...I never would have guessed that it would even more wonderful in real life. I thought it was more of a vision of romantic people which were just left as dreams" Wynne skimmed the sides as she examined the details closely, thinking internally about how much work must have gone into creating such a painting over such a vast canvas.

"Well, this theatre runs on donations and funds, but it's sure undeniable that this dance studio is glorious and alluring" Asra shrugged.

"Yes...it is........ Wait" Wynne stopped in mid-sentence and turned to him, her hand still on the wall. "Did you say, dance studio?". Before Asra could open his mouth to reply to her, another unfamiliar voice echoed from a corner. It sounded soothing, pleasant and graceful, but Wynne could not recognise who it was. However, the source was soon revealed as she walked towards both of them, and both of their eyes got fixated on her.

"Oh! A guest! Is she the person you were talking about, Asra?" The fair lady enquired, and Asra nodded in agreement. "Yup! She is the one. The 'blueberry syrup' " Asra winked at the unknown lady.

Wynne was now really questioning her existence....... blueberry syrup..........

Seriously?

"Oh! Now I see why you called her that" the soft ravenette chuckled, even her laugh chimed blissful which can send anyone to ease. Asra giggled and agreed to her, his dimple delicately forming on his cheek like a tiny crescent moon.

"Anyways, here she is. Wynne" Asra introduced the bluenette to the foreign lady, who smiled sweetly at her and Wynne waved for a greeting.

"And Wynne, this is Lyra" Asra finally disclosed the name of the gentle lady, who then stepped closer to Wynne and reached her hand out for her to shake, which the other lady gladly took after staring at her pale hand. And as she had guessed, her hand was soft like feathers.

"Lyra Slaquer, but you can call me Lyra. It's a delight to meet you, Wynne. I hope you enjoy your stay over here" she spoke with another cute smile. Wynne nodded and took her hand back, breaking a small grin herself. The name 'Slaquer' whistled a bit familiar to her, but she had never met Lyra before so it was kind of odd, but she pushed the thought and quickly replied to her.

"I too wish to enjoy my visit over here. This place is still kind of anonymous to me since Asra did technically blackmailed me to arrive here" the woman stared at the white curlyhead with narrowed eyes.

"What?!" Lyra gasped as her hand partially covered her mouth. "He did?! I'm so sorry for that, Wynne! He usually does not do that though" she grabbed her chin in her two fingers.

"Wait, I never blackmailed you" Asra's purple eyes widened in scepticism.

"You provoked me. You fed my curiosity and you left me fucking dumbfounded by your sudden hanger, you agitated me so much that the urge you aroused in me won. And whose fault do you think it is??" Wynne crossed her arms and stared at him, with her weight on one leg.

Asra's cheeks lit up with bright pink by the lady's question. It was not a surprise that Wynne caught his fib about being busy just to bring her here. He had known her ever since they were kids, and Winnie was the most attentive one out of the two. A smirk engraved on her dark lips as she tapped her foot on the floor, waiting for a comeback, though she was already aware that he doesn't have an answer. He was caught, he was very badly caught. And he sadly had nothing to objectify with.

Lyra meanwhile just looked from Asra to Wynne, then back to Asra. She was waiting for one of them to speak, but someone calling her name, presumably from backstage, snapped her out. "Coming!" The twirly ravenette replied, and she rushed to attend to her call. But soon after she stopped at her heels for a moment, and turned back to gently grab Wynne's hand and then finally walking with her.

"Come on Wynne! Let's make you meet everyone. I'm sure they will love you" Lyra notified her and she continued dragging her. The blue-eyed lady sounded so favourable and eager that Wynne couldn't muster the will to pull away and refuse her. She was better than deterring the warmth of a civil lady like her, and Wynne peeked back at Asra, who just waved at her, mugging 'have fun' to her.

'I will kill you.....' she gestured back at him with a scowl and flipped him off until Lyra and she completely disappeared behind the stage. And good thing she didn't notice Wynne being blatantly horrible and rude.

Not that Asra minded her cynicism anyway, he still loved her for how she was.

"Guys, listen up! We have a visitor here. She is Asra's dearest friend!" Lyra with a sunny smile as twinkling as the moon inaugurated her to everyone present backstage.

But little did Lyra know that Wynne already knew four motherfuckers present inside.

"What the heck? How are you all at one place?? And most importantly, what are you guys doing here???" Wynne pointed her finger from puzzlement at all of them and questioned the troop she knew very well through conventions and clashes she would never forget. Some of them which she found awful, and some of them surprisingly candy. She honestly never wanted to meet any of them at all, but profoundly in her heart, she was obliged that she was oriented with the six awesome and decent idiots.

"WYNNE?!!" A particular red-haired fellow, a ginger girl, a raven head man and a purplenette lady, together cried out the lady's name. The four were in a greater shock than she was in. Because neither Asra told them who the guest was, nor did they expect her to be the visitor out of any other persons they could have guessed. Now that's quite a shocker eh?

"Oh~ you know them???" Lyra bent towards her, her blue eyes shone with inquisition. "Yes...Yes, I do" Wynne sauntered towards them, this time, with a wooden floor, her heels gave off the clicking like of a ticking timepiece. Her hands were crossed, and she was tickled that how all the pals she was intimate to were existing in the area.

"Since when?" Lyra strolled with her. "Long story, Dear. It's all thanks to Asra, you can say. He is the cause why I know all of them. Like I met Nadia during one of his get-together parties, and then I met these two siblings- what was their name again? AH! Julian and Portia, at a grocery store when I and Asra wanted some stuff. And like that, I met his other best friend, the giant guy over there, Muriel"

Wynne brought up each one of them as she enunciated about them to Lyra. The ravenette listened to the bluenette with peak attention. She adored the manner and the refinement she held up while chatting to her. It was ethical, posh and highly lordly, just as a splendid black swan.

"And that's the story in a nutshell. Now tell me" Wynne kept her hands on her hips and glared at the four. "What's going on here?". "Wait, Asra didn't tell you what exactly is this place and what is our purpose here??" The physician asked her with mistrust.

"Well, no. He told me nothing. But he did say that this is a dance studio" Wynne tapped her chin, trying to recall what else he had asserted.

"Well yes, you are correct on that. This is a dance studio. Which includes the theatre along with the backstage, the rehearsal rooms, a canteen area with the lobby, a recreational cabin and the dorms. Our dancers live here and we provide them with a comfortable and hygienic place to stay along with necessary hospitality, and they all perform for the company" Nadia replied.

"Wait, the company? You guys are running a corporation together?" Wynne cocked her eyebrow again. This all was very new to her, and pretty intriguing too.

"You can say like that. This is Vesuvia Dance Company, and I'm proud to say that we all are like a close-knit family here. I run the company and also work as the organiser. Portia is the set painter. All the lavender imprints you saw on the screens were done by her" the umber woman referred to the chubby girl as she waved heartily at Wynne.

Judging by Portia's denim suspenders splattered with numerous sorts of pigments, she did look like a very hard worker. Just like how Wynne always knew her to be.

"And that gentleman over there, Muriel, he does the building work. So the stage and every scenery of the bureau is retained by him. During performances, he also makes sure the lights and every other piece of equipment are operating appropriately. Portia occasionally teams up with him for the arrangement of struts and special effects. Without him, the true magnificence of the dance would never have reached the audience" Nadi commended.

Muriel's cheeks blossomed pale red as his jade eyes shyly lowered down. Portia had the opposite reaction though. She just grinned and locked arms with the giant man catching him off guard and turning him more rattled than ever.

"I-It's not that much of a big deal" he mumbled abjectly. Wynne chuckled at the scene and muttered 'cute' before facing Nadia so she could introduce the medic next.

"And you must know Dr Devorak. Just as his profession speaks, he takes care of the condition of every member of the company and assures the safety of everyone from likely injuries or illnesses. He also schedules a diet plan if required, and he is also quite sincere in his work, and the members easily recover, all thanks to him"

"And....did any previous member die even though he was around?" Wynne heckled, and Julian fell right into her mockery as his face burnt deep red, the vivid colour spreading across his porcelain skin. He was positively ashamed, and Wynne snagged him so badly he was staggering. But luckily, Nadia seconded him up as she soughed.

"No Wynne. No one has died. The doctor is a qualified physician, and every one of us relies on his skills of treatment. He is also very humble, so there is nothing for us to be concerned about in terms of health" She retorted. "Alright. I believe you" Wynne shrugged with a sly smile, although the flush on Julian's cheeks didn't vanish. Wynne was like a harpy when it comes to disparaging someone, which sometimes makes Julian fear her. Other than that, Julian did like her, she can be cute sometimes and he has seen it. But just like every ambivert, all she requires is the right time to express it.

"And moving on, Asra is our principal dancer, so he is the one who comes with most of the choreography, but he also ensures to give opportunities to the other dancers to suggest any addition. With his and everyone's aptitude, the event comes out to be beautiful" Nadia affirmed with a low smile on her swift lips.

"I see....." Wynne held her chin in her fingers and nodded.

"And the thespians along with Asra are, Lyra, Maura, and-"

"Hello guys! What's up?"

"Woah Woah Woah!! Take it easy! We didn't go anywhere" Julian stumbled back onto a table as he attempted to brace away from the not-so sudden jumpscare of the stranger who appeared to have popped out in between out of nowhere. Well, a stranger to Wynne, to be precise.

"Haha, sorry Ilya. I was just excited to meet the new guest, and I didn't wanna miss them!" The outsider gleefully met the sights of the new lady with his azure ones, a purple glisten romped within his iris, just like how the gold flapped inside the matron's lustrous eyes. Other than his apertures, she noticed how he looked a bit similar to Lyra, contemplating the same type of hair and complexion of the skin. She then looked down at his clothes. The uproar he was wearing captured her eye, reasonably. Wynne was stringent, and a fashionista filled with critique, but what the man was having over him wasn't so terrible to her at all. She could see the striped black-white sweater, baby pink pants,

And were those turquoise crocs he was wearing???????

"Interesting...." Was all that Wynne could say.

"This is Raymond. He is our pianist, and he with his band performs along with the dancers. And he also conducts the music" Nadia enlisted. "Oh, so he is the soul of the performance huh. Pretty....... eccentric" Wynne eyed Raymond who glanced innocently back at her. She rasped and dabbed Raymond's shoulder as she reacted. "But sure. He is cute".

"Oh! If I'm cute then you are the loveliest girl in the whole world, and the ebony fabric on your fair body is like shadows surrounding the glowing moon" Raymond's eyes sparkled with esteem and cherish towards her, like a child recognizing their favourite superhero. That wasn't a good sign for Wynne at all. Especially deeming that it has only been minutes since he and she got introduced to each other. But, inferring that he was the type of guy to give random sweet compliments to anyone, she coolly answered.

"W-Why thank you Dear. You are.....pretty yourself. I like your hair".

"Thank you, Ms Wynne. You are too nice" he blushed with a wide beam. "Yeaaaaahhhhh" Wynne internally winced but tried not to show it to not come off as rude and anguish the cute boy.

"Alright! I think that's everyone in the area. There are three more people who are left to be introduced, but other than that, I hope everything is to your liking, Wynne. Asra brought you here so you could think about joining the company" Nadia rolled a strand of her long hair around her finger.

"Wait, join you all???" Wynne asked.

"Oh my gosh, you are gonna join us??? PLEASE DO!! I would love you for that!" Raymond practically jumped on his feet with enthusiasm.

"W-Wait, but why??? Why do I have to??" Wynne struggled to justify.

"Well, why not. We all have seen you perform before, Wynne. And you would make an exceptional dancer! Also, it's very fun hanging around with everyone and dancing too, don't you think?" Portia added.

"Yeah Wynne, Pasha is right. We know you don't like being around people so much, but we would give you space when you need it. We may stick close, but we will make sure to not bother you much" Ilya gently smiled at her. She did frighten him sometimes, but Julian would be happy to have a bit of her insolence and sarcasm hovering around. Everyone would love to have that.

"I agree with Julian. You are a wonderful lady, Wynne. It would be our absolute pleasure to have a talented entertainer as you dance with us. I promise I won't talk much if that annoys you. But I want to get to know you better, Wynne. I bet you would be very fun!" Lyra playfully whacked her shoulder, only to receive a deathly grimace from the bluenette's wolf-like eyes.

"O...Oh...." Lyra cautiously procured her hand and backed a bit away from her. She wasn't dreading of her if anything. She just got more.....intimidated. She had never met a woman with such grimness flooding out of her, yet be so nimble as a twilight waft along with the gloom she hauls. Lyra felt like a little butterfly just witnessing a vicious spider open her gapes and watch it flash with yearning and malevolence, but close enough, she could see the dignity and that dwelled deep in those gazes.

And those golden orbs had apprehended her just like a tempting spider's quagmire.

Wynne was never known to miss her target anyway.

"S-Sorry....." Lyra's diamond orifices veered under and a weak rosiness escorting her cheeks.

Wynne just shut her eyes, sighed softly, and immediately gawked at Muriel who was typically tight-lipped the whole time. But she decided to inquire him too because his opinion also mattered after all. "What do you think, Big Guy? Would you be happy to have me over?" She straightforwardly asked. The huge man was taken aback for a bit, he had believed that Wynne won't bring any mind to him, and obviously, she proved him wrong. And now he had to respond to her because everyone else had their eyes on him too.

"I......." He started.

"Mhm?" Wynne waited.

"....................."

"I won't mind" that's all he said.

Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of solace and rejoiced while Muriel just reddened and pouted. He wondered what made the people so relieved when all he did was say 'yes' for the new girl to stay. But what it truly meant was that they were ahead in favour by one more vote.

Wynne snorted. "Yeah yeah, celebrate all you want, but still. I haven't agreed to this yet. So technically there is still be left to decide. Now don't get too much excited already" she stated.

"You are certainly right on that. But we are willing to wait for your final decision, Wynne. Whether positive or not" Nadia told her, and the others agreed to her, nodding and muttering to each other. "Good. I don't like rushing things. I'm glad that you understand" Wynne's lips curved into a slight smile, and everyone else in the room returned a grin. "Of course. We want you to be comfortable after all. You are our friend" Julian added. "And we promise to support ya!" Portia said. "You can speak to us if you ever have any trouble, Wynne" Lyra peered at her. "And we promise to not irritate you at all!" Raymond assured her with a bright grin on his lips.

"We......We would take care of you too....." Muriel softly smiled.

Wynne softly chuckled, shaking her head delightfully and placing her hands on Raymond and Lyra's shoulders. She gleamed at both of them, and she thanked all of them for the patience and hospitality they all gave to a newbie like her. She truly felt honoured and warmly greeted by all of them, and she felt much pleasanter than she was feeling appearing for the first time. Nadia was pleased to see how everyone welcomed Wynne. She was looking forward to the guest making herself comfortable among the partners and come to be a valued part of the small artsy gang and relish the beauty of dance and music together with everyone.

And am I missing someone important to introduce?

"So! What did I miss, lovely ladies and gentlemen?" Some other unidentified person barged in like a typical theatrical garish zealot. Just as assumed by his way of the fashionably late entry, his clothes were incredibly contemporary and vogue and his shirt were half-buttoned to expose his semi-hairy chest. The unknown man rested his elbow at the frame as his piercing emerald eyes stridden around on everyone's faces until it spotted its victim. A certain gal in black.

"Ah! Gotcha" the stranger grinned and grazed his teeth over his lower lip. He pushed himself back on his feet and walked towards his prey. His hand brushed through his curly dark locks, the hooves of his shoes made a satisfying click with every step he got closer to Wynne. He wasn't focused on anyone else other than her, his eyes glimmered under the daylight, like lush green leaves after monsoon showers.

Wynne perked up her eyebrow up. Who is this guy now, she pondered. She glanced at his shirt for a moment and noticed patterns of peacock feathers with splats of prominent blue and white matching the print. Very remarkable, she thought. But also somehow very familiar too. The design on his cloth was something she had seen somewhere before, but she couldn't recollect when exactly.

Nevertheless, the unfamiliar man wearing the familiar clothing gently took hold of her hand and locked his emeralds with her gold.

"And you might be......" She started.

"Sèbastien Slaquer at your service, mademoiselle" he fervently kissed her knuckles, nurturing the sweetness of her skin on his lips.

"Ah...Slaquer......french....Wait a minute" Wynne interrupted.

"Yeah, what's the matter? Remembered something important?" He tilted his head and looked at her, his eyes taking in the charm of her marvellous face and dusk merging with her rosy skin.

"Slaquer.....no wonder why it was sounding so weird to me.......I think I have heard this name before.....in a brand name" Wynne held her chin.

"Oh, you have? I don't know. My brand sure is well-known--"

"Wait, did you say, your brand???" Wynne gripped him. "Yes of course" he shrugged. "Hmmm.....that explains your shirt..... the peacock designs..... peacock designs???"

Wynne suddenly gasped. "You are french, aren't you?!"

"Oh, are you giving me a racist remark now?" Sèbastien knocked and chuckled at his joke. "But yes, you are right. I'm french. And so is my little brother and my cousin behind you" he gestured to both Raymond and Lyra who were currently casually conversing with each other. "Ohh those are your siblings? Alright," Wynne nodded. She wasn't surprised because the three of them did kind of resemble each other. The opaque curly hair, ivory skin, thrilling eyes.

And speaking of Raymond and Lyra, Wynne noticed how personal they were. Both were standing near one another, and Raymond never halted eye contact with Lyra, and Lyra also had her entire attention on him. They didn't seem to mind anything happening around them. They just talked, but every word they said to each other pertained only to them. They were just cousins, but Wynne was mildly amazed how they behaved like mutual siblings who loved each other to the brim.

It thawed her heart, but also made it ache as soon as she realised she doesn't have such a person whom she can call a sibling. Her mother was never there to give her a sibling.

Wynne was always alone at such times.

"Anyways, what do you call a peacock in French by the way? Maybe that would remind me" Wynne turned to the tall man. It disturbed her how he towered over her. She was fundamentally disturbed by how ALL of them towered over her.

Heh, looks like someone has taken Portia's place of being the smallest.

"Oh, Paon" he answered within a second.

"AHH! I got it! That's your fashion brand, ain't it so?" She banged her fist on her palm as soon as she ultimately understood the name she was trying to remember all the time. "Well yes, you are correct again. Wait, you mean you know my work??" He gazed at her. "Mhm. I have seen it. Peacock layouts are your trademark, along with the colours, royal blue and brine green. Your type is modern, but also have a slight tinge of French flavour, dating back to the eighteenth or nineteenth-century or so. I have even seen the blogs that talk about you, very impressive I must say" she complimented him.

"O-Oh...Why thank you for your tributes, mademoiselle. You are pretty vigilant and almost figured out my whole style. Not many people can, you know" he laughed. "Of course, no problem Mr Slaquer" Wynne giggled. She found Sèbastien relatively interesting already, even after knowing him only for instants. Not only she liked his judgment of fashion, but also how he and she shared the same passion for design.

"Oh please, call me Sèbastien. It's my upmost pleasure to meet you, Miss......."

"Wynne. Wynne Toprak" she said.

"Toprak?? You mean, Priddell Toprak??" Sèbastien asked her. "Yup. I don't use my middle name too often, actually" she mentioned. "Ohhh I am have heard about you a lot, Ms Toprak. I have witnessed your works too, but I just wasn't lucky enough to see your beautiful face until now. Lucifer's Wings, that's yours right?" He questioned.

Wynne's cheeks turned a slight pink. She always thought that she can improve her style more and more, so she never found her methods perfect. And someone just breaking it to her that they admired her works and call her beautiful on top of that turns her shy and flustered.

"I-I...Thank you. And yes, that's my brand. I started it when I was like, 15 years old or so" she replied. "Woah, now that's a young talent I see. Very terrific, Ms Toprak. And I love how you make black match every other colour of your clothing. Your mode is very diverse and comfortable for anyone. Now that's how I want fashion to be. It should be dispersible to everyone, without any discrimination. And also with being unique, but also not too bizarre, if you know what I mean" Sèbastien's eyes shot to Raymond for a second.

Wynne bobbed her head. "I agree with you. Clothes which are different but also not too much of it. We don't want to walk around looking like piñatas now, do we?" She shrugged. Sèbastien broke into a fit of laughs and he shook his head. His laugh sounded like harmony to her, she chuckling with him too.

"Also, I am guessing you work with Nadia in designing the dresses for the dancers?" she continued. "Yup. Right. I have a contract with her for that. And Raymond has one too for his band to perform in the theatre" Sèbastien rubbed his neck. "Ahh...I see......Well, my friend had invited me here to take a look, and decide whether I should join the company with all of you or not" she noted.

"Oh! So you are going to design with me too?? Like a collaboration??" He sounded pretty energetic about it. "Well, maybe. But I also am a dancer. So let's see what happens" Wynne shrugged again.

"Woah...what a gifted lady. I'll be looking forward to work with you, mademoiselle" he softly kissed her hand again. "Oh it's nothing much. Trust me, Dear. But sure, I'm anticipating too" she sadly smiled at him. She still wasn't sure if she should join or not. But seeing so many likeable people who welcomed her so sweetly, made it hard for her to refuse. But also, what worse can happen if she joins? She loved dancing, and maybe along with fashion, she can make her career in another field too.

But still, she needed a bit more time. Though her mind was already telling her to agree to the contract and sign in. But she still needed to wait. Not just yet, please.

"Ohh!! What a lovely lady in the house!" Wynne heard another adorable voice from the entrance. She glanced at the new blonde woman, her long hair as golden as daffodils and her eyes as green as polished malachite. She also noticed the dress she was wearing. A long red skirt and a white buttoned top. It was simple but pretty, along the black ghillies with distinguishing neat white socks.

"Oh hello there. Nice to meet you" Wynne turned her attention to the blonde dame, whose cheeks lightened to blush as she bashfully smiled at Wynne.

"Nice to meet you too! I'm Maura. You must be Wynne, right? Asra told me about you" she replied. "Yeah, that's me. In flesh" she snorted.

"Ah, Wynne. Maura is the one who planted all the flowers and plants in the garden. And she always knows what type of flower would suit anyone. Also, not only she is the gardener, but she is also a prudent performer of Irish stepdance. It looks very difficult to me, to be honest. But Maura always does it so effortlessly" Sèbastien added on. Maura blushed harder and timidly thanked the man for the compliment, who just patted her head with a playful wink in return.

"Oh! Now that's very sweet of you. I absolutely loved the sunflowers in the garden by the way. They are my favourite. Every other flower in the garden were beautiful too" Wynne smiled at her. "Of course! I'm glad you liked them. I love sunflowers too. They sure a happy radiant flowers, don't you think?" She glinted at Wynne. "Definitely. I love them because they remind me of my mother, that's why" Wynne sadly smiled, the fond portraits of her precious mother as her hair and eyes lustrous as the cloudless floral elegance of nature flooding into her psyche. She dearly missed her, too bad she was no more.

"Oh! That's wonderful! I'll make sure to make a bouquet of sunflowers for you once they fully blossom. You can even gift them to your mom. And tell her I said hi" Maura twinkled. Wynne was seized aback by her abrupt tenderness. People were being too much nice to her today that it seemed so alien to her. But appreciating her generosity, Wynne warmly smiled.

"Thank you, Maura. She would like it" she still couldn't believe that such kind people still exist.

"My pleasure, Wynne. This is the least I can do" she smiled back.

"Also, Irish dance, now that's very interesting. You gotta show me some moves and teach me one day" the bluenette placed her hand on her hip. "Ohh for sure! I would love to. What dance do you do? Or do you specialise in some other thing than dancing" Maura leaned her head.

"Ah! I'm usually into hip hop and ballet. I learnt a bit about belly dancing too, it's also called Raqs Sharqi in Arabic. And other than dancing, I also run my fashion brand, and that's my real profession. It's called 'Lucifer's Wings'. I still remember how I took days to come for a decent name" she facepalmed and chucked at her forenamed naivety.

"That's a very nice name! You gotta show me your works someday then. I bet they will be very very beautiful and elegant, just like you!". "O-Oh....thank you for the.....compliment, Dear. And of course, I'll show you my latest designs, if that will satisfy you" Wynne brushed back her bangs. "I am sincerely honoured, Wynne" Maura grinned at her, her hands behind her back and her cheeks pink.

"No pressure. Your welcome" she raised her shoulders. Alright, she had to admit. She had started to like Maura too. Who wouldn't? And it was funny how she presently was liking the Slaquers and Maura more than the six she already was aware of. Maybe it's the benefit of the joy of meeting new people. Maybe........

"Also, I have a small question, would you mind me asking?" Wynne blinked. "Not at all, sweetie. Ask away" the blonde replied.

"Asra said this place runs through funds" Wynne blinked again.

"But who exactly is funding you all?"

Maura wasn't the one to answer her question. And neither was Sèbastien. Or Raymond. Or Lyra. Or any of the five.

It was the one out of the six who was known to be snooty, and robust, and blond.

And a passionate pup person too.

In came the notorious devil with two of his faithful albino pair of hounds growling at everyone in the room. His garnet coat with gold trimmings and the spotless Tom Ford Customs, obviously costing so much it would make our pockets spontaneously explode, were dry cleaned and smoothed very strictly, and his hair was huddled back with shower gel, replacing the pleasant smell of vanilla in the air with a tincture of mint.

"How are you all losers? You missed me?" The man removed his Gucci glasses and straightened his silky black gloves on his hands as he looked down at everyone.

"Tch, not him again" Wynne heard Sèbastien scoff and cross his arms. He looked irritated, and so did Maura, but she didn't have any frown on her face like him. She just looked..... unsettled. Meanwhile, others in the room were feeling as uncomfortable as both of them too. Muriel was looking away, Portia began to mind her business, Julian hid behind his papers, Lyra and Raymond tried to ignore the man and Nadia just sighed tiredly and rubbed her temples to give some comfort from the headache she just got. Possibly because of the new blond who entered.

"Hello Lucio" Nadia was the one who bothered to greet him, and she didn't look like she had a choice.

"Hello, Noddy! So how are my wife and her useless crew doing?" He cocked.

"Ex-wife, for your information. And they all are doing better than you, anyway" she scowled.

"Ah, still defending them huh? You do know this won't stop me" he smirked and kept his hand on his hip. Nadia closed her eyes, breathing calmly. "I don't care if you stop or not, but you are wrong. You always will be. My crew will always be committed and hard-working. And they all mean a lot to me no matter what bad you say about them"

Nadia's words effectively dissolved the tension in the room. Wynne just kept up at her place, listening to everything. She wasn't stunned to find him here. If her five friends would be here, then so would he.

The surprising fact was that she preferred the blondie over everyone else due to their previous relations and memories. It may sound unbelievable, but Wynne knew Lucio more than anyone, and it probably was the same with Lucio too, that he knew Wynne more than he knew anyone else. She was just a kid she met the guy when he was younger than today. And it has been two decades since, yet they kept in touch and their love never deteriorated.

Maybe.....maybe Wynne did have someone to call a sibling.

"So good to see you here, Lulu" she sounded pleasantly happy. That adds to another reason for joining the company.

"Wait- WYNNE?!!" The man was startled, finding his close friend at a place he least expected to. His lips widened to a grin and he forgot about everything, only to dash to the lady and tackle her in the biggest hug he can ever lend. Wynne laughed, and simply held his back, embracing his nostalgic warmth and scent close to herself, remembering every time they spent together merrily.

Sèbastien was dumbfounded, his mouth agape. Maura too was a bit astonished, that a sophisticated lady like her would be friends with such a flamboyant and hyperactive person. Well, she didn't judge it. Opposites do attract, you know. Maybe that was the case here. Maybe......

"What...What are you doing here??? I didn't know you were coming for a visit. Noddy never tells me anything" Lucio implored, fretting at the last sentence. "Well, it was more like a surprise visit. Nadia didn't know, so don't blame her" she replied. "Arrgh, fine. If you are saying it, then I'll gladly listen" he winked at her."Good" she cracked a tiny smile, snickering in the middle, and he joined her with the laughs.

"Now now, do you work here too??" She asked as she stopped.

"Work?! No!! I don't work with these idiots. THEY, work for me" his chest surged like a roasted turkey's bust.

"Oh yeah???" She raised her eyebrow, her eyes darting to Sèbastien. He shook his head, denying Lucio's statement. He then crossed his arms, and behind Lucio's back started mocking him by making his hand talk like Lucio and mouthed the gibberish with his eyes rolled up.

Wynne almost got caught by wheezing and cackling like a witch. Luckily her convenient hand covered it up.

"--And that's how I brought them all here. I am their saviour, Wynne. I raised them from the streets and gave them homes and look how they repay me. Not even a decent formal greeting!!" He bragged. Wynne already knew that the 'saving' part was not true no matter how fondly she thought of him, but she still played along to not dishearten her best friend.

"I understand, Monty. They are pretty tired too, you know. You can excuse them for that" she augmented, perfectly roleplaying.

"Excuuuuuse me?!! I work for hours at the meeting of the cooperations and look at me!! Not even a sweat on my brow. Oh, come on!! Are you all that lazy??? You are such losers for god's sake UGHH" Lucio hysterically placed his hand on his hip and cited them all. None of them were diverted, just as predicted. But Lucio was just pouting as always, and Wynne was feeling hotter and also sheepish. Were the two things even proportional?? She imagined so.

"U-Uhhh" she slowly walked to him and carefully placed her hand on his shoulder. She clasped her fingers around his joint and sighed peacefully.

"Hey...Lulu. I know you are worried about them and thinking that they are not....... trying harder, but they all deserve a break, you know. They all are like you after all. You all are humans, you need rest. You need fresh air"

She stopped and breathed a bit.

"And you know what you and your mates want??" She asked him, with a small beam of mischief on her lips.

"Huh??? What do I need??" He raised her eyebrow at her. She then grinned and booped his nose.

"You need ice cream, Silly! Ice cream! Who doesn't want a sweet cold treat on such a hot day hmm?? Come on all!! Let's have ice cream outside! I'm sure Asra can cover us up on that, free of charge" the bluenette invited everyone over, melting the potent tension just like ice cream under the giant ball of burning gas, leaving sweetness and chill dripping all over.

Everyone agreed to Wynne and relaxed from Lucio's outburst. They were finally keen to take a break they deserve and make their way through the other side at the exit. Lucio and his pets already ran to where they would most probably find the ice cream guy of the house, while everyone else silently thanked the blue lady for preventing Lucio to turn things worse. Some shook her hand, some gave her a quick hug and a bright smile, while some gave her thankful glances. She welcomed all of them with a simple nod, happy to help of course.

"You did great, Wynne. Thanks for shutting that asshole up" Sèbastien patted her head before moving out, shoving his hands in his pockets and whistling away a loud ballad. Maura followed Sèbastien, but she stopped to gently shake Wynne's hand and give her one of her confectionary smiles, also thanking her for saving her from the virago.

"It was nice to meet you again, see you soon" and she went away, her skirt fluttering with the inside wind, as the bluenette saw her walking.

"Hey...that was considerate of you, stopping Lucio from flaring on all of us. I never liked him screaming at anyone, but thanks to you, now I can finally breathe fresh air" Lyra humoured and Wynne chuckled with her. "No problem, Lyra. Lucio and I have been together since my childhood. He had been like this since his college days. So it's not shocking that he is still like this. I honestly love it" she laughed.

"That's great, even for him. I'm happy that you have someone close to you" she gladly smiled. "Yeah, I am happy too. You also have awesome siblings, take care of them just like they take care of you, okay?" Wynne leaned on her weight. "Ah! Of course! Ray Ray is my closest confidant. We are just cousins, but I treat him as my brother. Sebby is also very sweet to me, but he is one thirsty man for gossip and he often turns......scandalous" Lyra whispered the last thing to her.

"But I'm really glad they are here for me, and I'll be there for them too! I'll protect them at all costs!!" Lyra puffed her cheeks with resolution and adherence. Her adorable reaction made the goth lady guffaw from amuse. She held her stomach, one of her hands fanning her face and gashes of laughter accumulated at the nook of her eyes.

Watching her laugh was like watching a thunderous hurricane reflecting a widespread rainbow, or like a broken glass casting an bewitching silhouette.

"You are such a sweetheart. Keep it up like that" Wynne patted her shoulder out of appreciation. Lyra shied a little, she found the other lady's laugh so mellifluous as a psalm's ensemble. She creased a ringlet behind her ear and ogled fondly at the shorter woman.

"I am trying my best, Wynne" she timidly replied to her. "I know, Dear. I know" she closed her eyes and exhaled. She unfolded them again, only to glimpse back into her sapphire watches. Lyra was so captivated by her that her heart skipped a beat when she observed the golden blaze and crystal frost inside her. It was enthralling.

"Also, may I ask for a favour?" Wynne gently held Lyra's chin and poked it up her lips. She didn't even realise that her mouth was open in awe that she blinked rapidly, and stammered a bit, her face flickering to an apple glow. Soon she regained her composure and answered back to her, not making her wait for long.

"Yeah?? What's the matter?"

Wynne stayed silent for a bit.

"......................."

".............................."

".................."

"......................................................"

"Can you show me the contract papers? I gotta sign up"

The clock strikes at 11, and so does the cap of Wynne's pen. Finally, she wrote her name on the paper and learned to become one of their family. She was having fun and was impatient for her first performance.

Well.....maybe Asra did the right thing annoying her huh. Bless him for that, and everyone else of the Vesuvian Dance Company.

Now let the extravaganza begin!

[kanene-yaaay]

No Moving

Kanene’s note: One year ago I threw a surprise party (very small and cozy) in my house and, after some hours, one of mah friends suggested we played some old games from our childhood and I remember my first thought was “Hey, no. We’re not children anymore.” but I said nothing because that sounded a lot like what society would want me to say. We played. And that was one of the best days I’ve ever had. Good enough to give me inspiration for this fanfic. With a lot of chaos and dorky sides and chaos and tickles!!! So I'm giving this to myself as a gift, because, ya know... S e r o t o n i n! Soooo, the lesson? Idk. Be feral, do chaos, play and f**k the society, I guess. Happy day for us all!!! :DD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders and his series Sanders Sides!

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!!  ^w^)b

* This is Ler!Roman and Ler!Virgil with Lee!Logan and Lee!Patton. Around 3.700 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Eu vou traduzir ainda ;w;. Thank you so so so much for being with me through all this crazy and difficult year. It’s been a bless to have all of you in my notes, my askys, and my notifications! Take care of yourself, lollipop, you deserve. <33

[~*~]

It was a sunny day. The heat from the biggest star of our solar system being placated by a relaxing wind incessantly throwing the napkins from the so careful, yet messy – as if this wasn’t a tradition the quartet repeated affectionately every single year – decorated table. The friends positioned themselves around it. The surprise party’s rush being already over after all their screaming, singing, eating and bickering, leaving the four to lazily chat or stare the breeze carrying lonely flowers around Virgil’s – the one who offered his house as a sacrifice to the chaos - yard, making them float in the air for some seconds before forgetting them on the dirt again.

Virgil snored softly from the spot he conquered on the tabletop, taking a peaceful nap. Patton was saying, in the fastest pattern he could muster, all the dad jokes his brain managed to think only to see how much time Logan would continue to give him the silent treatment before finally – and figuratively, the owner of the only brain cell of their group would say if he heard this narrative, - exploded and Roman? 

Well, Roman was bored.

“I HAVE AN IDEA!!”

Then he slammed his hands on the top of the wooden object, successfully scaring Virgil out of it and of his sleeping – leading the poor adult to fall. Not before kicking a cup in Roman’s direction, his moves being weakened enough by his fogged brain so he missed it and hit Roman’s carefully manicured hands, instead, – at the same Patton, by reflex, slapped the two poor persons who had the bad luck of sitting next to him. He gathered the perfect timing to interrupt Logan’s scared jump by his confused ‘Why did- why- Why did you hit ME?’ sputtering.

“Ow.” The one in red shirt held protectively his arm and hand next to his chest, protesting with his usual offended noises as analyzed the light red spots on them and purposely ignored the ‘What the FUCK, Princey??’ shouted by the host. “Ow. O-w. Are you guys seriously going to hit me every time I try to make your poor lifes better, your barbarians? You know what? I am offended. Your peasants. I am going to get my dear Amanda the katana and then I am- I am out.” 

Logan deadpanned in his direction, lifting one of his eyebrows in his disbelief expression as the other didn’t give a single step to the exit. He did his best to maintain the façade as Patton fuzzed over him, hugging and apologizing and hugging and softly petting his head and offering cake before gasping and turning around to fuzz now over Roman. “… Okay. I am taking Patton with me.”

“Over my dead, haunted body.” Virgil quickly proclaimed before his tune got slurred, very much likely still sleepy. “I saw…” He balanced his hands in front of him, eyes wide and hair spiked, very much reminding of a scared cat. “I saw the angel of death, in all his tall dark, cold aura. In front of me. He was right before me, full of-” He moved his hands more, as if that compensated for his lack of words. “Emo.”

“…Thanatos?” Logan pointed.

“Yeah, yeah. That guy.” Virgil came back to his initial position laying down on the cold surface, yawing. “Totally emo.”

“Actually, when he was created-”

“Excuse me. Focus, focus!” The one who initiated the commotion snapped his fingers until all the eyes were fixated on him, glares traveling from interested to unimpressed. “My brilliant idea? That will light up this party and hearts? Drum the drums!” Silence. He turned to Patton, who was staring at a cute butterfly mindless flying around. “Patton! The drums!” The one wearing black rims seemed to come back to reality, drumming his fingers on the table. “Very well!” Roman spun, extending the suspense. Logan came back to scrolling on his phone, Virgil getting closer to take a look, both hiding a smirk when heard the pout in Roman’s tune. “You’re all jerks and boring. Let’s play S.T.O.P!”

That caught their attention.

“Roman, you are…” Logan talked slowly, as if trying to make his words as clear as possible, “aware that we’re adults now, right?”

“Aw, come on, guys!” Patton jolted upright. “Sounds fun! And I think Virgil’s yard is bigger enough to make it even better than when we played in middle school!”

“Exactly! And it was one of your favorites games when you were younger, remember, Specs? I think it’s a good way to celebrate that special date which is your birthday!” Logan scoffed at that, albeit his mind was somewhere else. 

Roman wasn’t wrong, he really used to love this game, especially because he was good at it. His love for sports was often ignored by most of his classmates because of his good grades – Logan never understood why one thing would exclude other – therefore he was constantly forgotten in the team or even underestimated. Two things extremely crucial in a game like this. Roman noticed his contemplating face. “I mean, except you are afraid of losing. Again.” 

“I did not lose! Kyle fell on me and he was the only one supposed to be out and not both of us and you. Know. It!”

“No, no, no! Claire said you were the one who tripped on your way and then YOU fell on Kyle-”

“That is nonsense! If Claire had stopped just one second her Dance of Victory, she would be able to see that, by the angle we both were on the ground there was no way I would be able to-”

“Oh, plu-e-ase. You are just a sore los-”

“What is this game?” Virgil questioned Patton, both letting the bickering fall on the background, who smiled widely, his gaze unfocusing a bit, probably watching some old memories of his childhood.

“It is a very simple but fun game!! One person stays next to a wall and, oh! We call him the Looker by the way! Or even some large thing and the others players stay the most away from him as possible. The person next to the wall has to count until a certain number of his choice and while he is counting everyone is free to wander around the place until he turns around, then every player has to freeze on the same spot and position they were. If you move and the Looker catches you, you’re out. You win if you touch the wall where he was. You can do everything you want as long the Looker is not staring at you.

“There was that one kid who managed to win the game by climbing a tree until he was close enough to jump from it and run to the wall before the Looker shouted he was out.” The one wearing two party hats as ‘cat hears’ stopped to breath. “Ah! Ah! Also! If you’re out you can choose to just watch the game or become the Looker’s partner and try to help him. Roman and Logan used to be the worst ever when together.” He giggled, sounding a bit hysteric.

“Hm. I think they used to call this ‘10 Seconds’ in my school, since you could count only further than 10 seconds.” Virgil then frowned. “Wait, why were they the worst?”

“Uhh, so, you see, the Lookers can use some… attics to try to make you move. Logan and Roman usually choose to-”

“I do NOT wish to participate.” Logan stated, crossing his arms stubbornly. Roman sighed. 

“Well, you do you.” Roman then traveled his glare to the others two. “Are you guys coming? I’m the Looker.”

“I’m in!!” Patton excitedly got up, joggling his way to the yard, casting a slightly worried look at Logan, who was adjusting his chair in order to have a better view of the game. Virgil shrugged, taking off his hoodie and following them, quickly throwing a ‘You ok?’ as he passed next to the most professional of the group.

“Yes.” He deeply breathed, sounding calmer. “Yes, I am.” And then give him a bite of a smile. 

Roman positioned himself before the colorful three foot tall concrete tunnel forgotten there by the last owner, barely catching with the corner of his field view his two friends whispering something to each other, the one wearing two party hats snickering behind his hand, bouncing as also choose a good position far away from him, who tried to not think much about what he just presented. A suspicious feeling crawled the back of his neck.

“Go.” Logan pronounced. 

“Oneeeee, twooo, three, fourfivesixseveneight,” Roman turned away from them, counting in a tune just above a whisper. Patton and Virgil exchanged glances.

When he got at twenty, he turned. 

Only to find Virgil laid on the grass, his arm extended to point something in the sky, Patton crouched by his side, his face firm in a puzzled expression staring in the same direction, hand above his eyes to block the Sun. Roman frowned in confusion, the curiosity tickling the back of his brain until he succumbed to it, also looking at the sky to - surprise, surprise! – find absolutely nothing!

By the time he stared at them again Patton now was in front of Virgil, both making what seemed like a very horrible parody of The Creation of Adam painting. Roman got closer, managing to clearly see the smug smile on Virgil’s face and Patton wobbly lips, very much likely holding laughter. He crossed his arms, staying stubbornly for some seconds before giving up, seeing that none of them moved a single millimeter. 

“You two are so funny.” Roman rolled his eyes, sarcasm dropping from each word. Logan snorted.

This time the Looker counted at only fifteen seconds.

This time Patton was in Virgil’s arms when he turned, one leg suspended dramatically in the air. The third time Roman growled loudly as Virgil was on one knee, pretending to propose to Patton who was frozen in the middle of his faint. In the fourth he didn’t even have the chance to turn before two hands tased his sides, making his knees buckle but being held in the same place when a pair of arms that hugged him from behind, capturing the poor adult in a flow of high-pitched squeaks and surprised laughter at each squeeze and spidering deposited just above his hips. 

Some minutes later soft snorts followed him to the ground when he was finally freed, flames running on his face and his arms firmly pressed at his sides, the ghost tickles leading to a sea of giggles dancing in the air.

“Enough.” Logan cut the moment, all the eyes on him when he got up, stretching and loosening his party tie. The Looker recomposed himself in order to sneak pokes and squeezes on the other two, who quickly dashed their way back to the yard. “You both clearly aren’t taking this seriously enough.” A dangerous gleam took over his eyes, staring intently to Roman, who instantly got the same kind of shine in his own glare, nodding in his direction. Both too much preoccupied to notice Virgil and Patton silently high fiving in the distance.

The game started again, now a very different electricity dancing in the air. Logan sensed an old feeling of nostalgia resting on his back as he analyzed the place and his opponents as things went by. Roman turned for at least three times – the perfect number for things to get really interesting, - before he decided to finally move from his place.

Silent steps, he went right to Patton. Logan breathed in relief, taking the opportunity to adjust his strategic position half behind the tree. Patton kept a pattern of switching from moving too fast in a round and then barely taking a step in the other, however, as Roman stopped before him, and for the way he soundless snickered as The Looker changed his target to Virgil, his weakness was still holding his laughter when stared for long periods of time.

Virgil was sitting on the grass. Again. A very good tactic when you tend to fidget or tremble a lot. He would stay in the same position for some rounds until in an explosion of energy dash forward when Roman wasn’t paying attention. The Looker crouched in front of him, his index finger pointing and almost touching his nose.

“You. I don’t trust you.”

And then there was Logan.

“You,” Roman stared in distance – not because of fear pffff of course not - Logan’s form half hidden by the foliage and trunk of the medium tree, his glass making his eyes gleam in a light even more enhanced due the shadow provided by the plant, the rest of his face being partially hidden because of his bangs falling on his features. “are fucking creepy. Stop.”

In the next round Patton gave everyone a heart attack when he screamed since he didn’t heard/saw Logan approaching his spot. Two more rounds. Virgil sneezed and lost his balance in a not very ideal mid-run position. Out.

“Oh, thank gracious, great goodness!! Come here, Knight Mare!! I have an idea!!” Virgil barely had time to stop swearing for losing before being recruited by Roman, who immediately began to whisper in his ear.

 “What do you think they’re talking about?” Patton asked, both being close enough for the question doesn’t need to be spoken above a murmur.

“Not a good thing for us both, I am sure.” In that moment The Lookers turned and a cold shiver ran Logan who, for the way Patton trembled, wasn’t the only one. Adrenaline started pulsing on his veins when they approached, although the birthday person had no idea of why. His old memories too much buried under newer ones for him to catch them.

“Nooohoho.” The cat lover whined and the fact Roman clearly saw that but did nothing to point it, his only reaction being to expand his grin, worsened Logan fears, a ray of recognition finally shining on his mind. That should be how karma feels.

“Look at you both, just standing right there, not being allowed to move an only single inch. What a sad fate, don’t you think, Princey?”

“Oh, absolutely, emo. A horrible, wondrous thing, indeed. But you know what that would be perfect for?” Roman now was just a few centimeters away, the infinitesimal distance being cut when he inclined forward, his breath tickling Patton’s – Poor Patton – ear. “Revenge. You know, Pattycake, Hot Topic here told me the previous attack on my amazing person was your idea. And now that I stop to think, what a wonderful idea, don’t you think, Pat-pat?”

Virgil pulled lightly Roman’s shoulder, sensing the other about to crack but yet having too much fun to end this all so early. “But not now. No touching, right?”

“Oh, right, right. Of course, no touching!” He wiggled his fingers, barely away from the poor target’s ribs, his cheeks already beginning to get pink from blush. “No touching, no touching, no touching, but, most important than anything else: no. moving.”

“Oh, yeah.” Virgil took the opportunity to walk around, stopping right behind Patton, who firmly closed his eyes, the smile he carried getting bigger. “Because the exact, very moment when you can’t take the teases anymore so you break and move?” He tsked. “Then all your protection will be over and you will be all helpless and vulnerable for us to tickle,” He almost purred the words, in the slowest way possible. “tickle, tickle, tickle for hours and hours. Can you imagine that, Popstar? Our fingers prodding and squeezing and tickling every single ticklish spot they find?”

“Ohoho.” Roman evil laughed. “Tickle spots? My Dear Imbalanced Romance, our pipsqueak here doesn’t have any tickle spots. He IS a tickle spot. Ah! I can almost hear his hysteric high-pitched squeaks and giggles! Such an adorable, beautiful, cute melody to my ears. Actually, I don’t know if I will ever be able to stop, Virgil. It’s just all too beautiful and intoxicating, you know?”

“Mm hm,” The other seemed to stop to think. Patton felt like he was going to melt at any moment. “Well, we could always just keep going forever.”

“Of course!” Roman again ignored the slight trembling of the cat lover’s chest, probably due all the giggles trapped there. “Don’t you think it will be wonderful and oh, so, so fun, cutiepants? Receiving all the tickles and nuzzles and raspberries and tickle hugs and tickly butterfly kisses forever and ever and ever? ~” He sing-song the last part.

“But,” Logan almost jumped in the same place, not even realizing how much keyed up he was before Virgil’s breath attacked the back of his defenseless neck. Suddenly all his nerves were hype-aware that he couldn’t turn around or run or even rub away the tingles. Goosebumps ran freely across his spine. “Let’s not forget about our so sensitive nerd here too, right?”

“Sure. Sensitive.” If he didn’t know Roman for all these years, Logan would almost swear he was the Cheshire cat, his smirk almost blocking Patton who hugged himself behind him, giggling quietly. “Because the serious, smart, professional Logan would never be ticklish, right? That is such a childish thing and he definitely, definitely outgrow it for now.”

“Yup. I am sure that, if we slowly and thoroughly spider our fingers all the way up from his sides to his armpits, being sure to give each and every rib a special attention since we don’t want to let anyone feeling left out, there will be no reaction.”

“Absolutely! No reaction at all! Not even if we squeeze the hollows of his hips, or scribble on his already quivering tummy, or massage his shoulder blades or lightly, almost not touching, scratch his armpits… It will be all in vain since our birthday boy is not ticklish.”

“Which means: No wheezy, frantic laughter.”

“Or sputtering among his squeals.” 

“Or cute snorts. Don’t forget the snorts.”

“And what about when the snorts get mixed with his belly laughter?”

“Ohh, that is some good shit you have there.”

Logan was dying. He was fucking dying and the only thin line keeping him alive was his stubborn nature. He could already feel his barrier cracking and crumbling right before him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, only to find both Lookers walking away back to the tunnels, not taking long before starting to count, this time out loud. The one with the, now freaking out, braincell began to snap his fingers non stop, trying to get away some of the built excited energy, some titters escaping from his lips during his happy stimming.

Roman and Virgil looked at each other and then the adorable scene right in front of them, deciding to have mercy and wait patiently for Logan and Patton – who yet didn’t stop giggling and hugging himself – to calm down.

(…)

One. Move.

And in the next second, they both were tackled on the ground.

“No, no, no!!! No!!” Patton was already giggling, trying to run from Roman’s firm hug, attacking with squeezes and scribbles in every spot he succeeded to research on the Looker as he also tried to escape from his friends’ hands attempting to hold him in the same place. “Wait, wait!” He cried, barely catching a glimpse of Logan’s trashing before an idea popped in his mind. “If we all gang up on Logan, I will tell about his secret tickle spot!!”

“Patton!!” Logan’s protest came out difficulty between his tight grin due his constant effort in trying to buckle Virgil from him, both struggling to immobilize the other and playfully rolling in the grass. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Pffft.” Roman said, a happy cry following his sentence when he finally managed to hold one of Patton’s hands, intertwining their fingers so the cat lover wouldn’t try to pry it away. “Nonsense, I know his tickle spots.”  

“Not all of them. ~”

“Patton, I am to going not figuratively end you. Get OFF, Virgil-”

“In your dreams.” He crackled. “Also, Patton, I’m listening.”

“Virgil! Don’t align with the enemy! And, of course I know all of them!”

“Even the one…”

“Patton, no! Stop!” Roman even if concentrated in tickling Patton’s knee so he could sit on his legs, got the slight tremble in Logan's voice, his curiosity one more time starting to take over his brain.

“Sorrey, sorrey, Lo! You know I love you but-”

“Patton, please.” Logan almost smiled as he fought his way to hug and trap Virgil from behind, but losing his balance as the other quickly turned and delivered a raspberry on his neck and quick squeezes on his left thigh. “dON’T!! I-I am going to bakeEEK - Fuck! - you a whole batch of cookies if you don’t tell them!”

Roman caught in the offer, his curiosity immediately perking up, answering in a bat:

“I’m going to tickle you both to pieces if you don’t tell us now.”

“Sorrey, Logan,” Patton tried to sound apologetic, but his excited smile made this task more difficult. “it’s you or me.”

“I’m going to tell them about your calves!” Logan threatened at the same time Patton said “It’s his lower back!”

“TRAITOR!” Both also shouted in synchrony. In a blink of eye Roman let Patton go and helped Virgil to make the most serious one of the group lay down on his stomach.

“I despise you all.” The aforementioned pronounced.

“Aww. Come on.” Virgil lowered, searching the other’s eyes, grinning. “Aren’t you enjoying the view?”

“400.000 years of evolution for humanity to become this. You all should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“You know, talking like this makes me think you don’t want us to give you your so dearly craved birthday tickles, Pocket Protector!”

The three of them stared at the other, looking carefully for any slight indication that Logan was truly uncomfortable with the situation, receiving as response only a scoff, the blush painting his face as a whispered mumble flew from his mouth.

“You’re so cute!” Patton squealed, giving a light tickly kiss on the back of his neck, leading the attacked to suppress a small giggle which progressively got louder as the cat lover tickled his armpits, Roman and Virgil seeing unfazed by Logan’s squirming. “Okay, okay. You have to tickle his lower back but starting with reeeeeally slow scratches at his sides before speeding it to the fastest scribbling you can muster as you move to his spine!”

Logan hid his hot face behind his hands, the yelps and snorts already escaping between his fingers. He was, objectively, going to love every single second of this.

[shipmistress9]

Sex Toy Advent Calendar: Day 3: Black Cock Ring

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: E

Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid

Words: 2213

Summary: Astrid enjoys getting a little revenge on Hiccup.

Read on AO3

. o O o .

On the third day, Astrid was running late. After the sexcapades of the previous day, she’d slept well through the entire night and not even her alarm had been enough to raise her — she’d snoozed it three times until Hiccup had made her get up. By cruelly stealing her cosy blanket and a loving kiss to make it up again. 

But no matter how late they were, she wouldn’t miss out on opening the next box of their calendar. She already held it in her hand now, waiting for Hiccup and wondering what it could be today. This box was even smaller still than the one from the previous day, again black with a golden ‘3’ printed on it. Only one half of the number was visible though, making the boy seem even smaller still. But after yesterday’s experience, she wouldn’t judge a boy by its size again. Even small things could bring great fun. 

“All right, our lunch boxes are ready,” came Hiccup’s voice from the kitchen. “Are you sure you want to open this box now? Whatever is in it, we won’t be able to test it now.”

He was right. Of course, he was. But still…

“Yes, we’re opening it now. Keeps the anticipation high for later.”

Hiccup sighed, but when he came to join her, she saw how his lips twitched. He was just as curious as she was. 

“Okay, then let’s see what awaits us today.”

Not needing another invitation, she opened the box and dumped its content into her palm. And grinned. Ooooooh, these were perfect!

“Uh-oh… What is it, Astrid?” Hiccup sounded alarmed at her reaction, and rightfully so. This would make the perfect payback for last night. 

“Oh, nothing special,” she sing-songed, and held up the half-translucent bag for him to see. “It’s just a set of cock rings.”

. o O o .

They were simple, three black rings made of some sort of rubber and in different sizes so every girth would find its match. Hiccup and Astrid already owned a few cock rings, some more extravagant with slots for vibrating bullets or nubs on the outside, so these weren’t as exciting as the bondage tape had been. But they’d promised themselves that they would give every item a try unless they were absolutely against it, and that meant that Astrid knew exactly how she would use these. 

She would get a little revenge.

Hiccup seemed to know what was on her mind when he came home shortly after her, visibly nervous and fidgety. Served him right! Astrid let him stew though, just kissed him sweetly, asked after his day, and helped prepare a light dinner for them both. However, after they’d eaten and had a brief pause to digest, she didn't feel like waiting anymore. Hiccup watched her warily as she sauntered over to where he lay on the couch and straddled his thighs.

“So, in how much trouble am I, exactly?” he asked. His voice was rough and deep, his eyes dark with lust.

“Mmh,” Astrid hummed, slowly grinding back and forth over his crotch and enjoying how she felt him come to life. “After keeping me in suspense yesterday? Well, I think some payback is in order.”

Hiccup let out a low groan, his eyes falling close. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it.” His words held no accusation though, only anticipation.

“I did,” she admitted, bucking a little harder against his growing erection. “Still, I think you’d benefit from getting a similar treatment.” 

Chuckling breathlessly, Hiccup didn’t even pretend to resist anymore. “And how do you want me?”

Astrid pretended to think for a moment, then nodded over to their comfortable armchair. “Get naked and sit down over there.” She rose off his lap, went over to the bedroom where their toy box was, and took out the new cock ring. She didn’t need to bring all three, knew well enough that the middle one would fit him best. 

When she returned, she found Hiccup as requested and with a hungry glint in his eyes as he took in her equally naked body. She regarded him with a smirk. “Like what you’re seeing?”

He hummed, lips twitching. “Always.”

With a silent laugh, she bent down to kiss him. Oh, he was just too good to be true sometimes. Hiccup responded happily, head tipping back for a better angle and hands coming to rest on her hips, guiding her to sit on his lap again.

“So, that’s what you want, babe? Watching me as I ride you?” she murmured against his lips. 

“I wouldn't mind,” he replied. His thumbs were drawing little circles onto her hips. “But somehow, I don’t think I’ll get away with that.”

“Damn right, you won’t.” 

With a teasing gleam in her eyes, Astrid pulled back and held up the simple black cock ring. After Hiccup had nodded his consent and with the help of a little lube, she worked the ring onto his hard length, all the way down to the base. It was a snug fit, his girth almost too wide for this one after all, but it still worked. 

“There, nice and tight.“

Hiccup groaned, squirming beneath her, and she grinned. With this, Hiccup wouldn’t come, not anytime soon, at least. She ground herself some more against him, enjoying the groaning that drew from Hiccup, but it was only the start. Not wanting to drag this part out any longer, she pushed herself up on her knees, guided him into place, and then sank down his shaft again, slowly. 

Oh, yes! That was it. As always, he felt so good inside her, hot and hard and just him. Astrid moaned in appreciation, relishing in the moment, the stretch, the fullness. He was simply perfect.

“Now, I have a challenge for you,” she purred after giving them both a moment to adjust. 

Hiccup groaned and let his head drop back against the couch’s backrest. “Why does everything always have to be a challenge?” 

“Because life is more fun that way,” she replied, smirking. He wasn’t fooling her, though. She knew all too well that, even though he might not be as competitive as she was, Hiccup still enjoyed a good challenge now and then. And this was one he wouldn’t be able to resist. 

Moving her hips in slow grinding motions to draw his attention to what was happening between their legs, Astrid reached for his hands and intertwined her fingers with his. “You know I love it when your hands are all over me,” she said, and moved his hands to cup her breasts. “But today, I want you to restrain yourself.” She placed his hands on the armrests to either side of them. “I want you to hold on to these. If you let go of the armrests, I stop. Is that okay for you?” She was pretty sure that he would agree to her condition; it was just the sort of game he would enjoy. Even so, if he wasn’t in the mood for a game like this, then she wouldn’t force it upon him. 

But Hiccup didn’t even take a second to think about it, his long fingers digging tightly into the cushioned armrest. “Bring it.”

Grinning in triumph, Astrid placed her own hands onto Hiccup’s chest for stabilisation. “I hope you’re ready for a wild ride, then.” 

And riding him she did. She started at a mediocre pace, switching between bouncing up and down along his cock and grinding herself against his pelvic bone as she pleased. She moaned freely whenever he hit her insides just right, seeking mostly her own pleasure for the moment but giving Hiccup a good show, regardless. 

“Mmh, can you feel this, babe? So hot inside me, sliding in and out. So good!”

Beneath her, Hiccup groaned. His fingers, digging deeply into the armrest, were almost white. Satisfied with how he… held on to her condition, Astrid increased her pace, fucking herself harder on his cock, deeper. Her fingernails left red lines on his chest, and when she came a short while later, head thrown back and her insides clenching around him, it made him howl in need and frustration. 

When her head cleared again, his chest was still heaving, his hands still clinging to the chair as he tried to hold still for her. 

“Oh, that was fantastic,” she sighed. “Just what I needed. And how about you?”

“Peachy,” he pressed out through gritted teeth.

“Is that so?” 

Astrid would have liked to watch him for a little longer; he was always such a splendid sight, tightly wound like this. But he’d been so good so far — and her fun was far from over, anyway. 

She lifted herself off him, smirking as Hiccup whined when cool air reached his heated shaft. “Don’t worry, babe,” she assured him. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

“That’s… goo—oh, fuck!”

Hiccup cursed when she slid down to her knees in one fluid motion and took his cock into her mouth without a warning. She took him in deep and hummed, enjoying her own taste on him. She couldn’t even say why, but it always turned her on, a pleasant shudder running down her spine. 

And, oh, his strained little noises! Low huffs and sobs, keeping and whining when she pushed him higher and higher but relief kept eluding him. It was perfect and made her heady, everything in her focused on giving him as much pleasure as possible.

A hand landed on the back of her head, not pushing her down but caressing her scalp and brushing through her hair in urgent little movements. Usually, she liked it when Hiccup did this, but today, that touch made her pull back and glance up at Hiccup with her eyebrows raised. 

“S-sorry,” he gasped, his hand twitching back to where it belonged. “Won’t happen again.” 

Deciding to forgive this one little lapse, Astrid went back to sucking her boyfriend off. She had fun teasing him, bobbing her mouth over his head, flicking her tongue against his frenulum, licking around the sensitive rim of his glans. She sucked him in and stroked along his shaft, not holding back in the slightest. It was messy and fun, but the best part, from her point of view at least, was that she could do whatever she wanted; it would take a lot before he came with that cock ring on. 

So she continued with a tiny spark of evil joy, working him mercilessly with her tongue and hands as if he was her favourite treat. Which he was, in a way. Astrid positively loved giving Hiccup head; his primal responses, the guttural groans, how he twitched and twisted. Playing with him was so much fun! 

“A-Astrid,” came Hiccup’s plea after who-knew-how-long. He’d been cursing and moaning all along, but this now sounded differently. 

Keeping on stroking him with her hand, she looked up. “Everything okay, babe?”

He nodded, but his movements were jerky, strained. “C-coming.”

Affection and appreciation flashed like a spark in her chest. By telling her this, Hiccup gave her the option to stop and drag his orgasm out even longer. It was tempting… but for today, he'd endured enough. 

Instead of pausing and letting his body climb down from the edge, she instead doubled her efforts, gripping him tighter, stroking him faster, and taking him back into her mouth to suck him harder. Within seconds, Hiccup convulsed with a tantalising scream, jerking and with his head thrown back in ecstasy.

Astrid only took the first spurt of his come into her mouth. Then she pulled back to let the rest land on her breasts and grinned, letting part of it drop off her lips. As she'd hoped, Hiccup choked when he lifted his head and looked at her through dazed eyes, his still-hard cock in her hand twitching heroically.

“So, what’s the verdict?” she asked playfully. She leaned over him, to place a soft kiss to his forehead but also to give him an up-close look at her come-splattered boobs. 

“Uhm,” he made, unintelligently, his brain obviously not fully braining yet. “About what? Your oral skills are mind-blowing as ever. A+.”

Astrid chuckled, the light motion making her breasts jiggle, and with a teasing hint in her voice she said, “Thanks, babe. But I can see that. I meant the new cock ring.”

“Ah…” He blinked a few times to clear his head a little more. “Uh, okay? Probably? I didn’t exactly think about it again after you put it on, to be honest.” His eyes lingered on her lips, her chin, her breasts, and he visibly swallowed. “Better than the one that only came in one size, I guess. That one was definitely too uncomfortable to use. But not as good as the vibrating one. And you’ve got to be the judge for the one with the nubs.”

Giggling, she straightened and reached for the wet vibes on the low table next to them before Hiccup's mess could dry on her skin. “Fair enough, I guess. But I think this one was a lot of fun.”

She winked at him, and shaking with quiet laughter, Hiccup flopped back into the cushioned chair. “Yeah, no complaints from me there.”

 . o O o .

AN: Writing these takes longer than I like, to be honest. But, well... it's still fun to write and I hope you enjoy them, too. 

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - * 

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine.

The reader is secretly in love with Erik and she is afraid to tell him and risk their friendship but he overhears her telling her friend

“I love him...”

Y/N was seated within her bathtub, the heavy soap suds from her shea butter bubble bath disappearing. She had her eyes looking up at the ceiling, hands absentmindedly finger-combing a strand of her wet curly hair. A small smile broke out over her heart-shaped lips.

“I love Erik.”

She’d know about her deep hidden feelings for her best friend for a while now. Y/N was head over heels for him. She wondered if the constant longing stares she gave him or the need to touch him in public gave her away but Erik was just being Erik, not even reacting to it. She hoped that he would question her on it one day, ask her, “What’s up with you, ma? You acting all needy with me.”

She couldn’t help herself. He didn’t even have to do much to make her feel this way. Y/N could sit down at her desk and write a whole journal on all the things she loved about Erik. She already talked her best girlfriends ear off about it, her friend hanging up on her last night while she went on and on saying “Erik does this” and Erik does that”

Y/N brought her knees to her chest, swinging them from side to side while biting her lip to fight a blush. It was so adorable the way she felt about Erik. He drove her crazy because he was so mysterious. He’d give you this look...a look that made you bend to his command. He had to have picked up on her lack of bickering with him or the way she held his hand, stroking her thumb across his smooth almond-colored skin.

She lifts one of her pedicured feet from the water, admiring the soft baby pink. She begged Erik to pay to get her toes done. He kissed his teeth and rolled his eyes but ended up giving her $50 to get the best pedicure treatment. She did that on purpose, she knew he couldn’t resist a woman with pretty painted toes wearing open-toed shoes. Then she went and picked out the best-fitted dress she could find. Tonight she was going to get his ass. He was gonna take some kind of notice. Finishing her bath, Y/N gets ready for her evening with friends.

Fully dressed to impress, hair pulled back into a sleek bun, Y/N drove to her girlfriend's house, ready to turn up and eat for their Friendsgiving. She had her long aluminum pan filled with the cheesiest baked Mac n’ cheese resting in the back seat and a couple of pans of her king's Hawaiian rolls; one pan with garlic butter and the other with cinnamon brown sugar butter.

Y/N pulled her all-black Audi into a spot two cars down from what looked like Erik’s matte grey G-Waggon. He got the new rims on it too, she just knew the inside of his car smelled like those caramel macchiato car fresheners she bought for him. Stepping out, six-inch heels with her pink toes, she grabbed her cell, pulling up Erik’s contact. She saved him under E Baybee 💘💘💘

Her heart damn near dropped to her stomach when he picked up. That voice of his...

“Where your annoying ass at?”

“Come outside! I need your help,” Y/N put on a soft voice. She knew that drove his ass crazy too.

“For what?” He sounded agitated but she knew he would come anyway.

“You want my cheesy Mac n cheese, right? I suggest you bring your ass out here!”

“Girl I ain’t gotta do a fucking thing,” She smiled hard on the other end, leg shaking with excitement. Erik has her sprung.

“Come here!” She whines

“Chill out! I’m coming.”

Yessssssssss

Y/N hangs up, getting back in her car quickly to check her sleek hair; still laid. She did a nice soft beat to her face, Fenty Beauty lip gloss on with a rose tinge, brown liner around her lips to make them fuller and more kissable. She looked the fuck good and smelled good, she purposely chose to wear a floral scent because he loved that on women. Y/N heard an uproar of laughter, her eyes looking up just in time to spot Erik closing the door to her best friend's house behind him, jogging down the steps, he looked from left to right, trying to figure out where Y/N could be. She took one last steady breath before getting out of the car, waving him over.

Erik jogs over, stopping directly in front of her. He had his dreads braided back, black letterman jacket on to match with his all-black gear from head to toe. He gave her a wide grin, flashing those golds. Whew.

“Hey, E.” She wanted to say hey E, baybeee!!!

“Wassup, Y/N,” he gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, “missed you, little nigga.”

If only he said missed my little baby, she swooned to herself at that thought.

“You expecting somebody to be here tonight?”

Erik stood back, arms folded across his chest as he regarded her... hard.

“Nah, I can’t look nice?” Y/N faked annoyance, turning away to open her back door, “come help me with this food.”

“Forreal, you gonna stop bossing me around before I put you in your place.” Erik steps forward, turning on the light in her car to carefully grab the food.

“Okay,” she spoke with a honeyed tone.

Erik gave her a look, the look where he was thinking about something but didn’t want you to know. The one that drove her crazy. For a second, she thought he would say something but the food grabbed his attention again.

“Let’s go, they already started popping bottles.”

“Without me?” Y/N didn’t like missing that.

“Shouldn’t have been in front of the mirror so long, tight ass dress you got on.”

Finally, in the cozy home, Erik pointed down into the basement, letting her know that’s where everyone was. Once she came down the steps, everyone called out her name, hugging her and complimenting her. Erik walks pass, sitting the food neatly next to a crockpot. As soon as she got settled, Y/N made her way over to the liquor. Friendsgiving with her friends was always a good time. Erik was right next to her, pouring himself a hefty cup of Hennessy. The music was lit, deep hip hop base shaking the house.

Standing next to him felt different. Y/N would catch herself looking at him while he talked to others or danced a little with his red cup in his hand. She wanted so badly to kiss those lips. She was growing tired of only feeling them on her cheek and forehead.

“Want me to make you a plate, E?” She asks, more so to do something for him because she knew that there were a few chicks in the building checking for him heavily.

“You must have known I was gonna ask you,” he laughs, “You always looking out for a nigga.”

“Cuz you look out for me, stupid,” she laughs, playfully pushing his bulging bicep. Y/N allowed her hand to linger before slowly slipping it away as she made her way to the food. She purposely moved her hips, knowing that he couldn’t resist a phat ass. She didn’t even entertain the thought of looking back to see if he was even watching her. If she did, and if she locked eyes with him, it was game over. He would know, and maybe, that would be a sign that he liked her just as much...loved her just as much.

Her friends didn’t fuck around with this food! Large servings in two pans each and so many desserts she caught a toothache just looking at it. Her mac n cheese already had a portion of it gone. Luckily, there was shrimp Alfredo and other starches to go around since she made only one pan. She gave him her food first before adding everything else. Finished, she spotted him sitting at a card table with some mutual friends, playing spades. She watched him slap the cards down, getting all buck and letting that ego show. She stood watching with his plate in hand, the smell pulling his attention away from the game.

“Got your food, E,” she sat his plate down in front of him, “did I add everything you like?”

Erik grabs his fork, moving the food around to mix it. He likes to eat it all together, more flavorful.

“Hell yeah, you hooked me up bestie,” Erik reaches out to pinch her cheek, “Go eat something, girl.” He started scarfing his food down. She was so enamored by him that she didn’t even hear him.

“Huh?” She said, eyes fluttering.

“Eat. Something.” He sounded out with a smirk and a mouth full of food, “You good?”

Y/N nods slowly before turning away to gather herself. This man had her hypnotized. As she walked to grab some food, she caught sight of her tipsy girlfriends looking at her, one of them telling her to come here with a curl of their finger. Y/N rolls her eyes before walking over to them, standing near the backyard door.

“Spill it, bitch,” Her girl, Paige, eagerly asks.

“Spill what?”

“Oh please cut that shit out,” The host of the housewarming, Tylesha, spoke, “Stop playing clueless and tell Paige what’s really going on.”

Y/N wished she had more alcohol. Tylesha really didn’t know how to keep shit to herself. Y/N wasn’t ready to tell everybody, she didn’t even know for sure if Erik felt the same way.

“Damn, way to go Ty,” she folded her arms, before addressing the elephant in the room, “...I'm in love with Erik.”

“Yessssssss!!!!!” Paige cheers, “finally!!!”

Y/N laughed at her friend's outburst.

“Chill, we don’t need the whole party to know.”

“When are you gonna talk to him?!! I mean what are you waiting on?!!!”

Y/N had a defeated look on her face, “a lot of things, like, our friendship for one. I don’t want that shit to be over because of this.”

“It won’t be,” Ty reassures, “The type of nigga Erik is, he wouldn’t end a ten-year friendship with the most real person in his life.”

She had a point, but what if they did give it a try? What if it ended badly? And another thing, did he even feel the same?

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Y/N stops their cheerful moment, “I don’t even think he feels the same.”

“Girl,” Ty shooed her away, “You gotta be a fool to not see the way he looks at you. That nigga might not have admitted to himself yet, but he loves him some Y/N, his bestie.”

Ty and Paige laughed, Y/N palming her face with a blush. Where were they seeing this? Yeah, he loved her in a way that a friend would, but romantically? She couldn’t even think of a moment when he showed any signs of that.

I appreciate this, for real y’all, but...I know E. I know that when he wants something, he gets it. If he really wanted me, he would have already had me before I could even come to terms with how I felt. That’s just how he is.”

“Stay in denial, hoe,” Paige fired back, “Y’all both love each other. Just talk and fuck already! Damn!”

Fucking Erik.

Y/N really didn’t need that mental image. She had plenty of wet dreams and late-night sessions with herself, his name rolling off her tongue.

“Why you had to go and say that,” Y/N groans.

“Oh, sis, we already know you rubbing that pussy with his name in your mouth.”

“This conversation is over, I am TIREDTTT of yall,” Y/N was ready to walk away from them both. Thanks to them now she was flustered and in need of an ice pack between her legs and on her forehead.

“Yes! Let it be over so you can finally talk to him!” Ty yells at her. Y/N turns to leave, shaking her hands to calm her nerves. She was just about to enter the party room when Erik stopped her suddenly with his solid chest. He startled her, Y/N clutching her chest to catch her breath.

“E!!” She shoves him, “you scared me doing that shit!”

He had this neutral expression on his face, hands in his jeans pockets. This time around, the usual glint in his eyes was replaced with tenderness. Y/N’s breathing slowed down, her hand leaving her chest to fully approach her best friend, worry in her voice.

“Oh, shit, E, are you okay?” She reaches out to stroke his cheek. Erik’s eyes closed, head falling forward slightly. He shook his head, face contorted with struggle. What the hell happened in a span of ten minutes? He was just laughing with his boys and playing spades. His belly was filled with all that good food and now he looked like his entire world was burning before him.

“Talk to me, E,” she began to feel frightened.

“We gotta talk,” he looked over her shoulder at the yard door, “Ty and Paige still back there?”

“How did you-yes they are, I mean, I think,” she was confused.

Erik grabs her hand and squeezed it.

“Come on,” he pulls Y/N in the direction she left. Tylesha and Paige were indeed still there, conversation coming to a halt when they spotted Erik pulling Y/N by her hand to the back door. Both of them gave her a rather dramatic thumbs up which made Y/N’s heart race faster and faster like she was chasing the calm within her that she needed at the moment. Finally, on the back deck, Erik closed the door, silence surrounding them now. He looked down at her like he was seeing her for the first time ever, his tongue rolling over his upper teeth.

“Erik, this shit is torture,” Y/N whispers.

“No need to whisper, it’s just me,” he points to his sturdy chest, “and you,” Erik grabs her hands, stroking them with his thumbs. Y/N looks from his motions to his face, understanding finally reaching the surface.

“You heard.”

She closes her eyes, looking away from him like she was full of embarrassment like this wasn’t her best friend who shared plenty of embarrassing moments with her. He didn’t say anything, just staring at her.

“Jesus, what are you thinking right now? It’s making me insane,” she looked up at him with erratic eyes, “I didn’t want you to hear that, oh my god, this is all wrong-“

“Wrong how?” His voice was low and steady as if he was trying to keep his calm.

“This isn’t how I planned on telling you,” she looks away again, the grass and trees keeping her gaze, “Damn, E.”

Erik closes his eyes, “how long?”

She wanted to cry. This wasn’t going at all how she wanted it. She wanted him to grab her and tell her how much he loved her too. Spin her around and kiss her lips, tease her about keeping it away from him for so long. 

“Only a few months but I’ve always known, just never accepted it.” Y/N felt so small next to him.

“A few months and you ain’t say a word?” He sounded hurt. Like he was left out of the loop.

“Yes. Because of how you’re reacting right now!” She turns away, rubbing her eyes gently so she wouldn’t ruin her makeup.”

“How am I reacting? I’m just asking questions, ma. I really wanna know.”

“Well, I wanna know.”

Y/N cut him off. Erik folded his arms across his chest, growing quiet for her to speak.

“How do you feel, huh? you all shocked and hurt that I didn’t tell you. Don’t do that if you feeling the same way, E.”

“Y/N,” Erik trails off, clenching his jaw, “Aight, you really wanna know? Bet,”

Erik walked upon her, grabbing her arm and pulling her directly against him. Erik wraps both of his arms around her waist, Y/N looking up at him with those big brown eyes he loved oh so much. Erik couldn’t begin to express how much he loved Y/N. He noticed the way she looked at him lately and touched him, but he didn’t flat out want to think that she was feeling him, Y/N was always touchy.

“I’m feeling the same way you do.”

Her mouth fell open. She looked at his lips.

“Erik I swear to fucking God if you are playing...”

“You know me when have I ever lied about some shit like this?”

He had a point.

“So. You love me?” She spoke with a small voice.

“Aye, it’s me you’re talking to, none of that.”

“It’s you but then it’s not you,” she closed her eyes.

“To answer your question, yes, I do love you.”

“how much, E?”

He brought both of his hands to her face.

“A lot. Enough to wanna kick myself because I should have told your ass sooner.”

Y?N rests her forehead against his sold chest, “Baybee...”

He froze, loving the way she said that to him. Shit was crazy, this is Y/N, his best friend. His beautiful best friend. Erik pulls her away gently, lifting her chin so she could meet his eyes. Those warm chocolate eyes, so smoldering with the need for him. He allowed his eyes to admire her generous frame like he always did when she didn’t know like he did when she walked away from him in the house. That dress. Her hair. The smell of lavender and daisies on her skin. The six-inch heels making her calf muscles look at built and then her toes... the toes his money paid to get painted. 

 he was even staring at her lips, “You dressed up for me, didn’t you?”

Y/N blushes, “Yeah, you like it?”

Y/N gave him a little twirl. Erik smiles down at her. Yeah, he liked the dress, but he loved her just as much. Erik probably would have never told her out of fear himself.

“like it? girl, I love it.”

This entire energy was different. The new stage in their friendship could possibly evolve into what they both wanted for a while but couldn’t say.

@tgigoldie​ @soufcakmistress​ @chefjessypooh​ @chaneajoyyy​ @pananegra​ @theblulife​ @becincere​ @blaqwidow91​ @fish-outta-watah​ @moonlight-night-sky​ @eyeknowmywrites​  @crowngold​ @njadakillthiscookie​ @blktinkerbell​ @luvanxi​ @sheisexcellent1​ @chocolatedippedinhoney​  @brandithecrystalgem​ @dababydababydababydababy​ @soulfulbeauty19​ @btitannaaa​ @sunkissedebony97​ @youngblackndgifted​ @harleycativy​ @rbhp​ @thee-germanpeach​

[sleekervae]

Suck It And See [0.2]

Masterlist

"So, what's it like?" Rose asked. Jade laid flat out on her bed, staring at the cracks and stains in the ceiling while her best friend was on the phone.

"It's cold," she said, "Even for post-summer in England, it's cold,"

"What do you mean by cold?" Rose asked again, "That don't make no sense,"

"It's just very isolating is all," Jade replied, "None of these cousins have even come over to say 'hi',"

She hummed from the other end in thought, "Well, perhaps they're waiting for you to come out of your room?" she inquired.

"That'd be fine," Jade said, "If they too weren't locked in their own rooms. Rose, the only sounds I hear are the odd car driving by or the birds in the trees. It's eery, there's no life here whatsoever,"

"They're a suburban family, s'pose. Suburbans do things differently," Rose said, "Remember my next door neighbour? The brownstone that always reeked of meat?"

"Rose, that whole neighbourhood smells of deli meat. You're round the corner from the artisan markets," Jade said.

"Don't matter," Rose said, "Fact is that we lived in a suburb and every single person in that bloody square-radius was whacked,"

Jade sighed, "I think I'd rather be in a Newcastle as oppose to this," she said.

"Well, what's this Auntie all about, then?" Rose asked, "You said she was rich?"

"That's the only cool thing about her," Jade mused, "She married into it. Think she's put out a pound for my mum's treatments? Think again, kid,"

"Perhaps taking you in is her way of chipping in?" Rose said, "You know, take the emotionally-distraught-teenager out of the equation?"

Jade rolled onto her side, staring glumly out the foggy window that overlooked the neighbourhood. It looked more like a still-life than a reality, with silent streets, strangled grass, nobody about on the streets. It was depressingly glum, a place that no emotional teenager could possibly withstand in her circumstances.

"As far as I'm concerned, I should be at home instead,"

➿➿➿

Right at seven-fifteen in the evening, Jade was refreshed and redressed, this time in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of comfortable jeans. Her long, thick brown hair was tied up in a loose ponytail, showing off her gorgeous, youthful face. The wonderful smell of roast meat and steamed vegetables filled her nose, and it suddenly dawned on Jade that she was starving. She hadn't eaten anything since she had left her house this morning. She had had a cup of coffee and a scone with her dad in a local cafe by the station, a little father-daughter time before she would have to chug off. It wasn't the most pleasant bonding time for Jade, she still had mixed feelings towards her father and his actions.

Aunt Joy looked to have her head in the oven, a cynically amusing concept to Jade as she entered the kitchen. It was twice the size of her kitchen back home, with jade marble counter tops, clean wooden cabinets, a big, beautiful stainless steel fridge, and a state-of-the-art oven and stove-top set. A few feet away was a grand dining table covered in a green and yellow patch table cloth. And in two of the seats were her younger cousins, Charlie and Noah. The boys were fraternal twins, both eleven years of age with dark bowl-cuts, pudgy and pasty faces, with a thick rimmed glasses sitting on both of their noses. They seemed to be fighting over who's turn it was to play with their video game console.

"Charlie, it's my turn!" Noah whined as he tried to make a grab for the gameboy, "Yeh said yeh'd let me play after yeh killed the dragon!"

"Yeah!" Charlie sneered back, "But now I 'ave to kill the mutant lava monster!" he exclaimed. Noah continued to whine at him and kept grabbing for the console. Soon afterwards, a little, wispy-haired boy came running into the kitchen, yelling for his life.

"AAH! Mummy!" the little boy ran and hide behind Aunt Joy. Jade watched with confusion as another boy, taller than she was, came running after the little boy. He had a gremlin mask on over his head, but the young boy wasn't old enough to understand. Alfie, he was. He couldn't have been older than seven or eight.

"Mummy! Oliver's tryna' eat me!" he yelled. The older boy, sixteen-year-old Oliver, ripped off the deformed, ugly mask and started to laugh.

"Oh, take a joke, Alf. I was only kiddin'," Oliver said to him. Aunt Joy refrained from rolling her eyes as she pulled the roast beef out of the of oven and set it on the stove top to cool.

"Boys, did you say hello to your cousin?" She asked in a diminutive sneer.

The shenanigans in the kitchen came to a sudden stop as they all turned around and focused on Jade. She suddenly felt as though she was being glared down by a pack of wild hyenas.

Oliver, being the oldest, made his move first as he slung an arm around his cousin, "Long time, no see, cuz,"

Out of all her cousins, Jade tended to gravitate towards Oliver most. Perhaps because he was older, perhaps because he was good looking? Jade would never have any romantic kindlings towards him, he was her cousin after all. Regardless, Jade could appreciate his high cheek bones, shaggy but combed back hair, and well-chiseled body. He was a top player on the school's lacrosse team after all.

Uncle Cosmo entered the dining room soon after and had the boys set the table for dinner. He kept calling for Flora to come down from her room.

"Flo! Yehr ma 'as dinner on!" He shouted down the hall.

Jade took a seat at the end of the table, unsure of what else to do as Oliver and and Charlie set the table. He had ripped the game boy away from them and placed it on the spice rack whets neither of them could reach. Flora eventually came down and took a seat on the opposing side to Jade, between Oliver and Alfie.

They all sat down and Aunt Joy placed the roast and veggies in the middle of the table. Noah sat to Jade's left and Uncle Cosmo to her right. They both suddenly grabbed her hands. She was confused until she saw the rest of the family join hands and she realised they were going to say Grace.

"Do yeh say Grace before dinner, Jade?" Charlie asked her, clearly sensing get unease.

Aunt Joy replied before Jade could even open her mouth, "No dear, your Aunty Ruth doesn't believe in God," she said.

"So... Do you not believe in God, Jade?" Charlie asked.

"Erm... not really," she replied.

"Why?" he asked, "Yeh're not afraid of Him?"

"Charlie!" Uncle Cosmo suddenly cut in, "It's none of the business wha' Jade believes in. Now 'old yeh brother's 'and,"

Jade let out a small sigh of relief. And with that, Aunt Joy proceeded to say Grace:

"Dear Lord, thank you for this food we are about to eat. We are grateful for your provision. We ask that you would bless this food and continue to guide our family along Your path. In the name of Your son Jesus, amen,"

"Amen," the whole table said. They all suddenly turned to Jade, who had stayed silent up until that point."

"... Oh. Erm -- a-amen,"

➿➿➿

Dinner passed as quietly and uncomfortable as possible for Jade. The younger boys kept asking her why she was here, why her mum was sick, why her parents separated. Uncle Cosmo and Aunt Joy steered the conversation away as much as they could, but even Aunt Joy made little attempt to ease Jade into her family. Oliver then went on to tell Jade about the school she would be attending with them -- Stocksbridge High School. Flora meanwhile stayed silent, occasionally throwing a dirty look Jade's way. She couldn't for the life of her understand what her problem was.

Jade helped the five children -- well, four, Flora chose not to help -- clean up afterwards, then they all separated into their own rooms. Jade was at a loss for what to do with herself, so she sat on the couch with Uncle Cosmo as he lit his pipe and watched the evening news.

"Yeh excited for school tomorrow, Jade?" He asked her. Jade nodded slowly, more focused on the puff piece the news channel was doing on a bird sanctuary in Ireland. She had hardly spoken a word all day, and Uncle Cosmo didn't take it lightly. He couldn't begin to imagine what heartbreak was being thrusted upon this young girl.

"Jade, how are yeh doing? Wif all of this?" He asked her. Jade shook her head and looked up at her uncle with those big, sad hazel eyes.

"I'm fine," she replied quietly.

Cosmo sat forward on the couch and looked down the hall, finding the door to the den closed with light flickering from under the door. His wife wouldn't be able to hear him, then.

"Listen, I won' lie to yeh and say 'I know wha' yeh're going through'. I will tell yeh 'owever tha' it will get better. Yehr mum is a lil' fighter, and she will pull through. If anything, she'll do it fer yeh. As fer yeh dad, 'e's gonna 'help yehr mum any way 'e can, yehr ma won' be alone,"

Jade blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill over and wiped her nose on her jumper sleeve, "Jason's in jail, Uncle Cosmo. Jack's living with... Her. And I'm up here. How is she not alone?" she said. One of her older brother, Jason, had been hauled into juvenile detention last year on a drug charge, while her younger brother, Jack, was living with their father's new girlfriend, Winona, for reasons Jade could not see as logical.

Uncle Cosmo shrugged back and sighed, "Well, yehr ma knows she ain't alone because she knows tha' 'er children are thinking of 'er. She don't want yeh to see 'er in her treatments because she don't want yeh to remember 'er like that. Yeh understand wha' I mean, dear?" he said. Jade, again, nodded as a snail's pace, still keeping her eyes trained on the television.

"Things are gonna be strange for the next lil' while, I know. But yeh 'ave us to lean on fer support," he assured her, "Yeh ain't gonna be alone, Jade,"

Jade forced herself to swallow the growing lump in her throat as well as her uncle's articulations. She wanted to believe him, but the homesickness she felt was too fresh in her mind to give in to the ease her uncle was offering. She quickly wiped away the tears that slid down her face before Cosmo could notice and she turned back to the television, not uttering a word for the rest of the evening.

➿➿➿

Morning came faster than Jade would have liked.

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, Jade grimaced as a loud pounding thundered on her bedroom door.

"Wake up, Jade!" Noah called from the other end, "Mum says we 'ave to get readeh fer school!"

Oh yeah, school. As if she weren't having enough troubles.

Jade groaned and shoved the blankets off her frail body. The floor was cold against her feet and she shivered as a draft whipped across her skin. She did a little stretch and went to the suitcase she hadn't yet bothered to unpack. Unlike her school back home, Jade had to wear a uniform to Stocksbridge -- and ugly one at that, consisting of a button down shirt, a black skirt, and a scratchy grey jumper, and an ugly tie.

If her friends back home could see her now, they'd never let her live this down. Jade had gone to a school where if you dressed like you were on your way to a business meeting downtown, you'd be robbed of your lunch money and locked into the janitor's closet within a span of ten minutes. She missed those ugly, drab classroom walls and rusty lockers that would clatter as you would walk by.

Jade -- now dressed in her new uniform, went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair. However, as she tried to turn the bathroom knob, she found it was locked. A shrill voice hollered from the other end.

"Occupied!" Flora shouted with aggravation.

Jade was overcome with a sense of awkward being, unsure of just what to do. The only other bathroom in the house was her Aunt and Uncle's in their bedroom, and the powder room downstairs. Was it appropriate to brush her teeth in there? In this house especially?

"Erm -- i-it's me," Jade called, "Can I come in? I just wanna brush me teeth!"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence before Flora finally replied with an expected "No!"

Jade was beginning to get annoyed with her attitude, "I'll just be thirty seconds, I promise ya! I just really need the sink!"

She heard Flora groan back, "I'm using the sink! Use the loo downstairs!" she exclaimed. Jade bit on her bottom lip nervously, eyeing the corridor to the flight of grandiose stairs. Reluctantly, she took her toothbrush and toothpaste and skittered down the stairs, then headed right for the powder room. As if my a stroke of misfortune, Aunt Joy had spotted her from the kitchen as she was brewing a fresh pot of coffee, and she called after her.

"Jade, dear!" her voice slithered through the air with the grace of a snake, "I certainly hope you're not planning to use the powder room to brush your teeth!" she said, "It's unbecoming, you know,"

Jade refrained from rolling her eyes. It was the powder room, people use the powder room to freshen up. And she needed to freshen up for school so she wouldn't be mistaken for a zombie on her first day.

"Well... Flora refuses to get out of the bathroom... so what do I do?" she asked.

Joy sighed with exasperation, most likely at how petty and ridiculous her daughter was being. Or so Jade had hoped. But by the look on her face, Jade was weary that some of that exasperation may have been directed at her.

"Alright. You can use the powder room this morning. But I will have a talk with Flora," she said. Jade thanked her graciously and hopped into the powder room, feeling as though she had received an indirect warning from a prison warden as oppose to her 'loving' aunty.

[lesbianlovelanguage]

Lost Boys of Starwood ch. 2

Fandom: Stranger Things Paring: Harringrove Chapter 2/10 Rating: T Co-written by myself and the amazing @catharrington Read it down below, or on ao3! ❤️❤️❤️ You can also find chapter 1 here, if you haven’t read it yet :)

Summary: West Hollywood California was a lighthouse on the beach for Steve Harrington moving down from nowhere Indiana. But for billy Hargrove it was a cage with golden bars kept locked by his father good and tight. They both found safety inside the darkness and splendor of Starwood, but will they be able to see the only way they can be truly found is through each other?

Since that first night, Billy had become a regular at Starwood. Steve would never admit that he looks forward to the nights where he spotted the curly blond hair amongst the crowd of sweaty bodies, but he couldn’t deny that his heart beat a little faster, and he couldn’t stop the tiny smile that appeared on his face. Not many people would notice the slight changes, but Robin, Starwood’s other bartender, immediately put it together, and started teasing Steve mercilessly.

Billy would start each night greeting Steve and flirting openly like “You on the menu tonight, Bambi?” Or “What’s ladies night special, cocktail?” Or “Let me kiss you, pretty boy?”

That was the fourth day he had come in, the fourth time Robin and Steve even knew of Billy's existence, and the first time Robin saw Steve’s eyes go that wide. He really did resemble Bambi, she admired.

That night Billy was leaning over on the bar, light denim jacket open to a clean white shirt, and bent over just so that his ass was in full display. Thankfully, Steve thought, he couldn’t see that ass from where he was standing behind the counter rubbing down a glass and trying not to blush.

“Come on, babe, I see the way you look when I’m out there having some fun,” Billy’s eyes were blue and narrowed as he licked that wicked tongue across his lips. “All pretty and jealous at that bachelorette party last night. They got really handsy when they got wasted.” And as if to jog Steve’s memory Billy let his jacket down one shoulder, revealing his cut off sleeve and the swell of his golden bicep.

Steve swallowed. He definitely remembered the bachelorette party. He had been swamped and stuck at the bar, but even the throng of people couldn’t mask the golden curls or deliciously tan skin Steve had caught glimpses of. Billy had removed his trademark jacket, leaving him in a tight a-line tank top. His skin shined with sweat, toned muscles on display for well manicured womanly hands to get their feel. It had been utterly unfair, and Steve had messed up at least one drink that night.

“Want me to act like a handsy middle aged woman?” Steve set the glass back into the tray across the bar before he flicked his eyes to Billy. He let his tongue dart out as he considered how fun that sounded. Getting his hands around those golden muscles, squeezing, the itch made Steve trail his fingers down the bar closer towards Billy’s own.

Billy kept rock solid, his grin dangerously wide. “Nah, not your style, Bambi. I think you seem the type to scratch in the sack.”

And god, that sent shivers up Steve’s spine. He stopped his fingers an inch from Billy’s forearm as it leaned against the wood of his bar. His bar, Steve tried to remind himself, as he pulled his hand back. Tried not to think about the way his nails scratched the old wood as they went.

“Want me to make you the best Sex on a Beach you’ve ever had?” He asked.

Billy was disappointed, but not enough to let up. “I don’t know, I’ve had a lot of sex on the beach. You really want to compete?”

Steve’s smile was bright and his voice was loud to match the music playing. “It’s not even a competition, stud.” Then he turned to mix up the drink and kept the second long flash of Billy delight at his comment filed away for later.

There was a little wolf whistle from next to Billy, an older man who winked knowingly, but most of the patrons were regulars who knew the cat and mouse game.

Billy tried to keep his smile and his heart under control as he watched Steve’s practiced ease of drink mixing. Just as he finished and turned around to slip the fruity monstrosity onto a napkin for Billy, there was a slight change in atmosphere at the bar. Another man slid up beside Billy, his shoulders hunched and pale face turned downwards. Billy felt his body prepare for a fight as a defensive measure to the strangeness, but there was something morose about him and not so much threatening, so Billy kept himself in check.

“Hey,” Steve greeted the man, leaning closer with two hands on the bar counter, looking attentive, “Barry, right? Haven’t seen you in a second. Wanna order?”

The man, Barry was his name Billy supposed, smiled something that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, I’m not here to drink. I just want to talk.” Billy had his lips around his straw and was listening intently. “It’s about me… uh, I’m having some,” Barry tried to continue but the words were slow. He sounded like he was pushing them out. “Some tests done. Just wanted to let you know in case anyone was… scared.”

Steve seemed to instantly get what Barry was trying to say. He reached out a hand and cupped his fingers over Barry’s pale wrist. “Thank you for letting us know.” He squeezed. Barry just looked down at that hand like it was the only thing holding him to the earth.

Robin was hovering around Steve’s shoulder, her eyes wide and concerned, but her jaw set hard. She was mulling over what to say to Barry when she was interrupted by a short intake of breath.

“That takes some guts man, you must be really brave.” Billy’s voice for once wasn’t laced in humor. It was serious as he ducked his head into Barry’s space to talk above the music. “Remember to stay strong, listen to those damn doctors, and know you’ve got people here thinking about you. This shit isn’t easy.” Then his hand curled in a comforting way around Barry’s thin shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze, before dropping back down to his drink.

Steve couldn’t stop the way his heart swelled in his chest this time.

“Thanks a lot,” Barry choked out, “really you guys this means a lot. I’m… well, I’ve got someone waiting for me at home. I just wanted to let you know. Thanks again.” Then he turned and left as quietly as he came in.

Robin was dumbstruck looking over Steve’s shoulder. Billy just continued sipping his drink and eyefucking her friend. She looked to Steve to see what his reaction to the whole scene had been, but he was just about as dumbstruck as she had been. He just… stared at Billy.

She sighed and decided to cut him some slack this time. She looked around and then patted Steve on the shoulder.

“Hey Stevie,” she hollered over the music, “There's a group over there that would probably love a cocktail from The Strip’s Best Bartender. Go on.” She pushed him down the bar to the other end, where a group of skater chics were lounging on the bar. He stumbled, but managed to right himself and take the girls’ orders and quickly began whipping up some intense looking drinks.

Once he was settled, Robin turned back to where Billy sat. The eyefucking was gone, replaced again by a more somber expression. “What’s up Blondie? You gonna tell me to beat it?” He muttered around his straw.

“What the fuck? No, dingus. I was gonna say I really appreciated what you said back there. Barry’s always been a big part of the bar, but since he’s gotten sick, it’s been really hard on the guy. You’re pretty chill, Bill.”

His expression melted into his standard joking face, and just like that, Robin and Billy became partners in crime, mercilessly teasing Steve everytime Billy came to visit or gossiping about people together.

It was one of those times that the truth came out. Billy and Robin had been gabbing about girls, when Billy let slip, “yeah, the high school girls are all cows, I swear.”

Robin's eyes widened and her mouth formed a little o shape. “High school girls?” She repeated the words back to him with fluttering eyelashes.

The smile melted off Billy’s face just a little. He hadn’t meant to let that slip, but he wasn’t about to try and hide anything from such a welcoming group of people.

“Uh, yeah Blondie. High school girls. That’s what I said.”

“As in, girls you are in high school with?”

“Unfortunately.”

Robin blinked owlishly a few more times, then shrugged. “Okay, well. I’m not your mom, so I can’t really tell you what to do. I am going to say that you have to tell him .” She said, pointing over at Bambi. Billy swallowed heavily, his mouth suddenly feeling too dry.

“Now?” He didn’t want to hide his age, but damn if he wasn’t scared of Bambi’s reaction.

“Yeah dingus. Now.”

Grabbing his drink in his fist, Billy gulped the rest of it down hard. This would be a great time for some liquid courage to kick in. He chanced a look down the bar to see Steve’s eyes flick downwards and a blush coloring his pretty cheeks. The alcohol was warm on it’s way down, and Billy used his empty glass as an excuse as he stood up and swaggered his way towards Bambi.

He set down his glass loud against the old wood bar, and smiled at him, hoping it came across as charming rather than scared shitless, which he was currently feeling.

“You like my drinks that much Billy?” Steve chuckled.

“Hell yeah, Pretty Boy. You know you’re the best bartender on the strip.”

Steve just rolled his eyes, he hears that a lot goes without saying, but there is still a slight turn up of his pretty lips. This time Steve puts aside Billy’s empty glass and trades it for a long beer pint. “Let’s take it a little easier, you’ve already had a couple. Don’t want you doing anything stupid tonight.” Steve’s fingers linger across the now cold glass as he places the beer on the wood.

The bartender's eyebrow quirked as he thought of something, then turned to a small cutting board just a reach away. With a soft cut and a softer push on the rim of the glass, Steve presented a little orange slice for Billy’s edge. His eyes were sparkling with so much pride and humor, it made the lights from the stage look cheap.

Billy really couldn’t get enough of looking into those eyes.

“I’m 17,” he blurted out. If he wasn’t going to say it now then it would never come out, Billy knew that. He wasn’t good with words, or knowing what the right thing to do was. But he was good with flirting, so he curled his mouth into a particularly wolfish grin.

Steve’s eyes were cartoon wide. “Come again?” His lips pursed.

“Don’t wanna keep anything from you, Bambi, now that we are getting all nuzzled up.” Billy dips his head to take a small drink of his beer. Never takes his eyes off Steve’s shocked face.

“Woah, okay, woah!” The cloth he was using to wipe down glasses snapped as Steve whipped it across his shoulder. He pointed an angry look at Billy, who was still sheepishly trying to hide behind the rim of his beer.

“17?”

“Yeah, babe.”

“You can’t be here!” That made Billy’s heart drop. After coming and worshiping at this bar so religiously, basically kneeling at Bambi’s pretty feet, that’s the sentence he gets.

Trying to push down the stabbing betrayal in his gut, Billy opens his mouth to reply, but he finds he can’t, as a hard hand clasped over his shoulder.

Looking up he sees the bouncer from the first day he stumbled into Starwood, a burly tattooed man named Tony, who Billy had grown to know just like Robin. The anger on his brow was all part of the job. In reality, Tony was a big soft man who would rather hug someone than punch them, and Billy had found himself at the receiving end of more than one of those hugs. It earned him the play from his nickname: Tony the Tiger, to something more Billy-flavored: Tony the Kitten, just a big ball of tattooed fluff.

“What’s going on here you two? Lover’s spat?” Tony teased. Billy and Steve both turned bright red at the insinuation, but while Billy remained silent and glared at his beer, Steve began to sputter cute noises until finally reaching, “He’s fucking 17, Tony! How was he let in here in the first place?”

Tony narrowed his eyes and stared at Steve, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

“Why do you care so much, Harrington? It’s not a big deal.” He asked, voice slow and deep.

“Yes! It is Tony! He shouldn’t be in a place like this.” Steve waved his hand around guestiring towards the stage and light covered bodies hot from dancing. “He should be doing homework… or studying like a good student!”

That caught Billy’s attention finally. “Excuse me, Bambi? I am a straight ‘A’ student for your information.”

Steve’s face was pulled tight, like he was sucking on sour candy. His look wasn't attractive, but it was cute, in a spoiled cat sort of way. “It doesn’t matter, Billy. You’re still too young to be in a bar like this!”

Robin sauntered over as Steve’s voice rose in octave. “Dingus!” She clapped Steve over the back of his head, sending fluffy brown hair bouncing into the air. “What’s the big deal? So he’s 17. Being here isn’t affecting his grades or anything. Let the kid stay.”

Tony nodded along, crossing his inked arms across his broad chest. “I agree. If you really want to kick the kid out, you’re gonna have to do it yourself. I ain’t doing it.”

Steve looked between Robin and Tony a couple times, cheeks a heavy dusting of rose red as he flustered about, before finally settling on Billy. He grabbed the towel off his shoulder and pointed with it balled tight in his hand.  

“Fine. Stay. I’m not serving you alcohol anymore though.”

“But Cocktail! Who else will make such great Blowjobs?” Billy grinned, finally gaining some of his confidence back since Steve wasn’t fighting on him staying anymore.

Steve blushed an even brighter red, and shook his head. He stormed away from Billy and the rest of the bar staff to the other side of the bar, then started wiping down the counter furiously.

“Don’t worry Billy-Boy. I’ll still serve you, no matter what tight ass says.” Robin said with a wink.

Billy wasn’t worried, per say. He was relieved he wasn’t thrown out on his ass, of course, but he wished he hadn’t said his age at all. If lying meant that his Bambi wouldn’t turn and run away from him, maybe Billy should have kept lying.

----

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to a tag list! 

[rebelskylar]

Namgi in Heat (Hybrid!Yoongi x Hybrid!Namjoon x Reader)

Type: Headcannon

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader, Yoongi x Reader, Namjoon x Yoongi

Word Count: 2k +

A/N: Who wants some Daddy Joon and Yoongi oppa?

To the anon who requested a Hobi oneshot ages ago: idk if you’re even here anymore, I’m sooooo sorry, I’m definitely going to write it, please accept this till I do? 

·        You were not the type of person that commanded a lot of attention when you walked into a room. With your small stature and unassuming look, you could blend in quite easily in a crowd. Your h/c coloured hair cascaded down your shoulders in soft waves, making you seem even smaller than you were and your large e/c coloured eyes, despite being one of your best features, were not domineering enough for people to notice you. Simply put, you were a meek girl who was quite often overlooked in the grand scheme of things

·        At least, that was what you were hoping for

·        All of this changed when your two bulky testosterone filled alpha male hybrid boyfriends walked in behind you. There was no way in hell that anybody could not notice them. Their very presence brought about a horde of awestruck gazes, accompanied by a certain amount of fear, truth be told. You suppose this was not completely unaccounted for. You felt the same way when you first met them, but that’s a story for another time.

·        Kim Namjoon was a Wolf hybrid. As a human, he was a calm and collected guy but since his personality traits were also ruled by his animal side, his cunningness and passive aggressiveness were also quite noticeable. He stood at a good height of 6 feet and 2 inches, and even his now freshly coloured blonde hair (which you had insisted on) did not do much in the way of making him appear a bit softer. His tall, structure usually scared off people from the get-go. His usual attire consisted of a black leather jacket with his hair swept off his forehead in a perfect curl, and thick rimmed glasses

·        Min Yoongi was a good few inches shorter than Namjoon, but could, in no way, be overlooked. He was a Siberian husky hybrid with small ears peeking out from his head of fluffy black hair, but that was just about the only thing anybody could label as cute about him. He was more muscular than Namjoon was, and still taller than you (and most other people). Tattoos adorned one entire arm of his and extended all the way down to his torso, and the one that he was most proud of was the bold lettering of your name scrawled across his chest. He had a silver nose ring, and one instance of eye contact with him was enough for people to run for cover. Might be a little insensitive of you to say, but he was the kind of guy that people would cross the road to avoid.

·        You have no idea how you ended up with them.

·        Despite their appearances, what people failed to realize was that in reality, these two were actually just pure balls of fluff. They were sweet, caring, and highly appreciative of you. They were never rude or violent to anyone unless absolutely necessary, even though both their breeds had these tendencies. Namjoon’s favourite food was spaghetti, for God’s sake. Yoongi loved babies. If that wasn’t enough to convince someone, you don’t what would be.

·        The only way they had ever displayed their anger was sulking around the house, or giving you large sad puppy eyes until you caved in and finally bought them whatever junk they were craving (or spaghetti, in Namjoon ‘s case). After that, they would huddle around you all night and nuzzle against your neck to show their appreciation. You couldn’t have wished for sweeter hybrids.

·        *coughs* Their heats, however, were a different story altogether.

·        It was a Friday evening. You had just returned home from a tiring day at work and wanted nothing more than a warm bath and a cup of tea to lull you to sleep. The constant stupidity of your employees was beginning to bug you, and you don’t think you could have taken any more of it.

·        On stepping into the house, you were pleasantly surprised to find Jungkook on your couch, squeezed between your boyfriends, engaged in a heated video game. You almost cooed at how adorable the baby bunny hybrid looked between them, undoubtedly trying his best to beat them.

·        You announced your presence and before Namjoon and Yoongi even got to acknowledge you, Jungkook jumped out of the sofa and leaped over to hug you. He may have been timid around you at first, but now had no inhibitions whatsoever about barrelling to you and asking for cuddles. You were pretty sure he considered you one of his most favourite human beings on the planet (aside from Jimin, of course). Your boyfriends didn’t mind him most of the time, usually not too swayed when he cuddled with you and practically had his chin on your head half the time when he was with you, so you didn’t hesitate to envelop him in a hug and fluff his hair affectionately. You didn’t even flinch when he nosed his way into your neck, used to the habits of hybrids by now.

·        That was, until a loud growl  ripped from Yoongi’s throat.

·        Jungkook and you froze, slowly turning your heads to look at the source of the sound. You were a bit confused, he had never done that before. “Do you smell her?”, he asked. You opened your mouth to ask him what he was talking about, but then realized that his question was directed to Namjoon.

·        “Yes”, Namjoon replied, his voice just as low and hoarse as Yoongi’s. “Do you think Jungkook’s doing it on purpose?”. His eyes were trained on the male in question, who by now had his ears flattened to the back of his head.

·        “No, of course not”, Yoongi replied. “I don’t think he can smell her. And even if could, it wouldn’t matter. He’s mated to Jimin.”

·        “Guys.” You had finally mustered up the courage to speak. Both Namjoon and Yoongi turned to look at you, their eyes dark. “What is going on? Why are you growling at Kookie?”

·        Your question was met with silence for a while, until finally, Namjoon decided to speak up. “Jungkook, you need to leave. Call up Jimin and tell him to pick you up, but for now, lock yourself in Yoongi’s room. Don’t come out. Y/N’s ovulating, and we have some…stuff to do.”

·        Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink at his words. “He doesn’t have to lock himself in the room”, you say. “This has happened before. I’m pretty sure you can control yourselves until Jimin comes over, right?”

·        “No, Y/N.”, Yoongi says. “What hasn’t happened before, is your ovulation period and both of our heats falling in the same period. We know Jungkook is mated with Jimin, but we can’t stand the presence of another male, and we’re barely controlling ourselves right now. I personally want nothing else but to rip his head off.”

·        Jungkook lets go of you at Yoongi’s statement and quickly situates himself next to  the front door. “Y/N”, he squeaks. “I’ll go wait outside for Jimin. He’ll hardly take any time to come here. Bye.” He’s gone before you can blink, and you slowly turn to face your boyfriends.

·        Yoongi is gripping the couch so hard you’re pretty sure he’s ripped it. “Namjoon”, he says. “Can I please go first?”

·        “Go ahead. You have really bad self control.”, Namjoon snickers.  

·        “I would have argued, but I’m way too gone right now.”,says Yoongi. “ Y/N, sweetheart, won’t you come here and sit on your oppa’s lap?”

·        You gulp at his sugary sweet tone, and slowly make your way over to them. They’re looking at you like you’re their prey, eyes following each small movement right up until you reach them. You quickly situate yourself on Yoongi’s lap, and let him sniff your neck and lap at it. It doesn’t take too much for you to start feeling aroused, and you start panting as his ministrations at your neck start getting heavier. His hands leave your back to roughly rip open the top few buttons of your blouse, taking your bra with them. He wastes no time in cupping both of your tits as he starts suckling on a particular spot on your neck, and you can literally feel the slick flowing out of you.

·        You gasp when you feel another set of cold hands brushing up your thighs. They slip your panties off your legs and you can’t help but moan at the sight of Namjoon holding them up to his nose and breathing in deeply. “Sorry baby”, Namjoon grins, “Daddy needed something to help him get by.”

·        Yoongi’s mouth has moved to your boobs, and his hands are now pulling up your skirt to claw at your ass. He grunts as he involuntarily ruts himself against you, and you whine as you feel the material of his jeans stimulating your clit. Your juices are soaking his pants, and he just loves how good you smell.  

·        You start humping him in earnest, and that’s when he knows he needs to be inside of you, now. He quickly picks you up, only to set you down on the floor on your back, and pauses momentarily to zip down his jeans and pull himself out. He’s so thick that you can already feel your mouth water. He glides his cock across your folds, gathering all your slick and spreading it across his head. A whimper leaves you.  You can’t wait for him to be inside you.

·        Just as he pops the head of his cock in, Namjoon pulls Yoongi back by his shoulder and stops him. You whine as you feel his girth leaving you, and Yoongi, just as confused as you, turns back to ask Namjoon what the hell he thinks he’s doing. “Don’t look at me like that”, Namjoon chuckles. “I have an idea. Why don’t you sit on the couch and fuck her, and I’ll sit on the floor and watch.”

·        Yoongi’s mouth curves into a smile. Without warning, he picks you up by your arms and takes you with him as he sits on the couch. Then he turns you around so that you are facing Namjoon. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pulls you onto his hips, pushing his cock into you without preparation.

·        “Fuck baby”, he groans. You swallow a moan. “I barely kissed you, and you’re so wet? So fucking wet for your oppa?”. His hands dig into your hips as he feels you trying to grind your pussy against him.” “Stop it, slut. Sit still and take it. “. It takes you everything not to pout at his sudden rough words. “Show Daddy your pussy.”

·        Namjoon looks in hunger as you spread your legs, exposing yourself to him. His tongue flicks out and licks his canines. He has already pulled his dick out of his pants and is stroking himself. “How does it look, Joon?”,asks Yoongi. “How does my cock look in her pussy?”. “It looks fucking delectable.”, Namjoon replies, leaning forward to lick a strip up from Yoongi”s dick to your folds. Your brain stops functioning as you feel his tongue on you. Yoongi jolts, loving the feeling against his balls.

·        Namjoon delves right back in, lapping at the place where you and Yoongi are joined. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as the squelching sound fills the room, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You keen as his nose brushes against your clit and start rutting yourself against Yoongi’s dick, unable to help it. Namjoon moves down to completely envelop Yoongi’s balls into his mouth, earning a grunt and a few curse words from the older man.

·        As soon as he starts bouncing you on his dick, Namjoon chooses to move upwards and start licking at your nipples. You bring your hands to his head, threading your fingers in his hair and pushing him closer to you, shuddering. When he has given your boobs equal attention, he goes  to kiss you. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, sucking hard on your tongue. Your hand wraps around his dick, pumping rapidly.

·        Yoongi grunts as his thrusts become more rapid. He pulls Namjoon’s mouth to his own, licking into it as his hand joins your own as he plays with the younger boy’s balls. Namjoon shivers and comes with a growl, covering your hands with his release. The image of both of your boyfriends kissing is enough for you too, and everything fades to white as you come.

·        Feeling you squeezing his cock, Yoongi groans, and he frantically thrusts into you, desperate for his own orgasm. You reach behind him with your hand to stroke his tail, and he makes an animalistic noise as his dick slips out of you and sprays cum over Namjoon’s chest.

·        All of you are panting by the time Yoongi’s done. Namjoon gently picks you up from the other male’s lap, and you slowly drift off to sleep in his arms as he carries you to the bedroom. You barely register Yoongi’s lips against your forehead as you fall into a deep slumber.

A/N: This is not edited. Lemme know if you’d like a part 2!

[bettycooperoutfitwatch]

2x14 Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Hills Have Eyes

We begin with a Chic Is Creepy montage.

From the fabric of the pant, I’m inclined to think these are pajamas, maybe sweats (maybe the ones we saw at the end of 210—thematically apropos given the Chic-is-Creepy vibe). Note the short-sleeve t-shirt is ribbed, which—Peak Betty. 

Betty-Cooper-in-overalls klaxon!! She last wore these in 211—another episode in which she was, ahem, dealing with Chic. I like to think she’s just taken her ponytail out, given how she seems to be floofing her hair as she enters her room. 

My first thought in looking at this was ‘oh she’s worn this before,’ but no—it’s just so very much something she would wear that I assumed she already had. She wore something like it in 210. It is something of a...darker pink. 

Face. And a closer look at another addition to Betty’s seemingly infinite collection of fancy collars. The blue-tone of the sweater is really noticeable here (versus red-toned or true pink, to be clear).

They packed well for a weekend trip. Respect. 

We’ve seen this coat before. This coat made its first appearance in 210, the episode in which Betty brought Chic to Riverdale. Lots of 210 connections here.

This sweater may have been my second impetus to create this blog (first still to come). While undoubtedly cozy, I just hate this sweater. If I were allowed to consider this some kind of knit bathrobe, I think I’d be much kinder to it. I don’t dislike many things Betty wears (maybe you’ve noticed). But this sweater. The feeling of putting a bathrobe on top of one’s sweater and jeans makes me shiver like nails down a chalkboard. I’ll concede it’s not rational. 

If you know me at all you know I l i v e for Tipsy Betty. She’s just. She’s allowed to be young, and carefree, and have a good time, and jump her boyfriend’s bones, and lick the sugar off the rim of her disgusting-sounding jalapeño margarita, and just. Everyone needs a break from their stalker serial killer father, that’s all I’ll say, and Tipsy Betty is especially charming.

She’s got what I call the slow eyes. When you’ve had just enough to drink that it feels like your eyes move slightly faster than your brain can process the images it’s looking at. 

I just love her.

Let’s take a moment to appreciate this Lodge Lodge monogrammed bathrobe, perhaps more clearly seen on Jug, below.

Featuring Raymond Carver. (Jughead fucking would read Carver.)

We know her. 

So. Another moment in the arc of Betty’s sexuality, another appearance of this long-line balconette. Jug seems very game with whatever she’s laying down. Some aggressive-handholding ensues. 

And out of the wig she’s bashful—which perhaps tells you why she likes experimenting with the wig. 

Note her hair is down today! This weekend trip is working. 

I take back my they-packed-well statement, because Betty bought t w o items of outerwear for a single overnight; girl, wyd. 

This bag! This bag and Betty Cooper go way back. They were in the shit together. 

Another season 2 Betty sweater—a tartan knit. The first time Betty wore tartan or plaid of any significance, I suggested was a nod towards her relationship with Jughead. Perhaps we could say the same here—they’ve endured shit, and they’re not shaken by small potatoes like ‘a Black Hood-prompted kiss’ or a home invasion (jfc). 

Summary: 6 outfits, but that’s inflated a bit by our opening montage

That backpack?: Very much so

Best outfit: I’m inclined to say her bathing suit; I love a bathing suit. 

[eerythingisshaka]

Mr. and Mrs. Stevens

This is my submission for @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots Black Panther Anniversary/Valentines Fic Fest!  Not sure if this fic goes with the theme of the fest and if its a bit....I don’t know, however I did a thing and that’s that on that!

Warnings:  Violence, Language, Sexual Situations

Word Count: 4k

Erik Killmonger x Black!OC

Prompt: “Try not to get blood on your clothes. We have dinner reservations in half an hour.”

Her phone trills in her bra as she checks herself out in the mirror.  The shift she picked up for a friend starts in 15 minutes and she hates when he calls beforehand.

Picking up the call she answers.  “Hey Erik.”

“Wassup baby girl?  You at work?”  His voice carries extra loud in her ear and kind of scratchy.

“Yeah actually.  So why are you calling?”  She asks in annoyance while applying her lippie.

“Aww, now don’t be like that.  You -- money tonight e--?  So don’t trip!”  His voice crackles in her ear.

She takes a step back to look over herself in the mirror, pushing her braids back and turning around to check her behind.  “The only thing I’m tripping over is why you obviously aren’t using the new AirPods I got you last month?  I can hear the 10.99 drugstore quality in my ear, it’s bringing down my mood.”  A loud sniff interrupts her train of thought as she sees a brunette leaning over the rim of a sink with a rolled up dollar bill.

Erik tuts at her.  “Come on, you know I’m a traditionalist when it comes to the audio experience!  I gotta, I gotta have, you know, an immersive, like, surround sound type of thing and like, the cords help-”

She leans on the sink in front of her.  “You lost one at the gym today huh?  When I called you and you said ‘shit shit shit!’ that was you dropping my money down the drain, huh?”

“Your money?  Since when is it your money only?”  Erik asks out the side of his mouth.

A girl taps her on the arm, wiping her nostrils as she holds out the dollar bill with a line left on the sink.  She shakes her head with a polite smile.  “Since I been doing all the work here.  These long nights, planning my own appointments, working these guys for tips with only my own damn wit, when they obviously want more!”

“Pssh, aight aight, calm down.  You know I appreciate this.  It’s OUR thing though, so don’t get your butt on your back with me.  I know you nervous cuz a high roller comin in today.”  Erik says calmly.

She picks up her bag and stuffs it in a locker, slamming it closed.  “Yeah, it’s basically now or never, Erik.  If I’m not what he’s looking for, he’s moving on and then we ain’t got shit!”

Erik shushes her softly.  “Chill, trust me.  You what he’s lookin for.  Guys like him love bitches like-”

“You better be kind and rewind that for me!”  She demands.  Erik always slipping his tongue at the wrong times, ignorant self.

Erik laughs.  “I don’t mean you!  He likes ‘females’ like you.  He studies them the most, you know?  That better?”

She sighs, choosing to ignore the still derogatory term.  “Fine.  You just be here when it’s all said and done.  I need you in times like this.”

“You do, huh?  I need you too, if you wearin whatever was in that bag you packed.  Shit looked tiny, so you ain’t covering much.”

She cackles out loud, her laugh bouncing off the walls of the room.  “Shut UP!  Don’t be silly right now!”

“Ain’t nuthin silly!  WE ain’t playing, you feel me?”  Erik says authoritatively.

She kicks her heel at the ground, biting her lip.  “I might be in a mood to see my friend backstage tonight.”

“Oh, so you claiming this dick right now?  Cuz, I thought this was MY dick!  Since I put in all the work around here, getting hard, staying hard, breaking your fucking back so all you gotta do is take it and you can barely handle that-”

“Oh Erik, fuck on with that.  Buh-bye!”

“You get it now?  Be good, DeDe.”

---

Johnny Rocket’s Adult Entertainment Club has a reputation for high profile clientele and catering to every kink imaginable.  Politicians, celebrities, CEOs, and anyone with a 7 figure or more annual salary has the possibility of getting in any night, however the waiting list was 6 months back, minimum.  If your name is powerful enough, you may receive a bump for the inconvenience, but there’s no way that list would move, as people kept looking for a chance to have an extravagant night inside.

One did not have to be looking for a touch from a stranger in order to enjoy themselves there, the club scene is just as hopping with exquisite seating, expensive liquors and miscellaneous party favors for the bold.  Tonight, Johnny Rocket’s is packed wall to wall for a birthday party of the man who runs the Upper West Side of Las Papeleras, of that’s what he would call it.  Mark Foley is the embodiment of greed; a shark tank businessman with a lust for power.  His monopoly of the financial district kept his pockets running over and the local law enforcement’s lined to keep his shady dealings going at an accelerated rate.  

His dealings started off with drug trades across the southern border of the United States, renting out the time of immigrants on the promise of Visa documents and safe keeping of their families on the road to citizenship.  This was a messy business however, as many of his vulnerable employees would be caught shortly after a drop or killed for being intercepted to ensure the details of his operation remained unknown.  It wouldn’t take much to cover his trail with his buddies in DC anyway.  Even with a successful run, Foley would instruct his subordinates to drop off the grid, leaving his pushers high and dry until ICE came for them eventually.  

But he was out of that game, now it is all about real estate.  Foley knew exactly where to upstart businesses for friends and confidants that would make him the richest man in America.  

“The rundown, dangerous, and poverty stricken  neighborhoods are nestled so conveniently between downtown and the burbs.  We just need to get those low lifes sucking off the teat of our taxpayer dollars to get off some extra dough, or get the fuck outta there.”  Foley slurs his words, picking up his tumbler of 12 year old whiskey.  

One of his associates respond, shaking his head.  “Ahh, come on, Foley.  Those people have been living there for so many fucking generations!  How could you uproot them like that, changing there way of life at the drop of a hat like that?  Where’s your heart?”

Foley blinks his eyes a couple of times, staring at his acquaintance from across the room for what seemed like hours.  The flashing, multi-colored lights of the club blur his vision as the bass of A$AP Rocky pounds at their temples.  

“Really?”  Foley asks loudly over the music, frozen with his drink in his hand.

The man laughs out loud, banging the back of the couch as he leans his head back in blissful humor.  “Fuck no!  I’m just fucking with you Foley, come on!”  He boasts, picking up a bottle of whiskey, clanging it against Foley’s glass.

Foley shakes as his hoarse laugh builds in his gut.  “Ohh, man, you had me going there for a second!  You can’t joke like that with me man, you’re still on probation with me.”

The associate combs his hair out of his face, adjusting his tailored, chocolate suede jacket.  “Let me have some fun, huh?  Anyway, you know what to do.  Call up Johnson to get in touch with Hesson about his eminent domain clause on the block, and kick those sons of bitches out on the concrete.  They’ll find a way, roaches never die, you know?  They just skedaddle on to a new nest to infest.”

Foley lights up a cigar, pointing it his way.  “Exactly.  I consider this motivation to do better for themselves.  Hell, once I clean up the pigsty, they can bring their credit score and occupation info, if they have one, and make a deposit with 6 months rent to settle in to the swanky new digs I transform those rat traps from!”

A waitress comes over in a leather miniskirt and thigh high boots with a fringed crop top that rests off her shoulder.  Half of her braids are bound on top of her head, with the rest cascading down her back.  Even in the dark room and the intensity of the strobing lights, her melanin shown beautifully rich, bringing the table to her full attention.

“Can I get you gentlemen another round?”  Her voice said with a sultry timbre, leaning forward to pick up bottle and adjoining glasses.    Some of her braids fall in the face of a hypnotized Foley who reached his thick hands through them, sniffing.

“Mmm, if you mean the juice, that’s not what I need another round of, sugar.”  Foley says wagging his eyebrows.

She looks over at him, pulling her braids back and out of his hands.  “You are Mark Foley, correct?”

He nods slowly, mouth half hanging open.  “I like the way you say my name, doll.”

“My name is Sade.  Your friend here made arrangements for us to...get to know each other a little better…”  Sade bites her lip, using her almond shaped eyes to invite Foley into the possibility.

He didn’t need too much convincing as he clapped his hands looking over at his associate.  “You sly dog!  You planned this for me?”

He shrugs. “Nothing but the best, for the man who holds my old hood in his hands.”  Raising the bottle up again in solidarity, Foley springs up out of the booth, grabbing Sade by the waist.

“This EXACTLY what I need!  Let’s not delay, drop those glasses at the bar and let’s boogie!”  Foley exclaims, leading Sade along and leaving his associate with the bill.

Foley’s hands were lit up over Sade’s body, feeling her soft and firm portions of her body with no shame as she led him to the quieter, private rooms in the bottom level of the club.  A black door marked with the number 8 in gold is where Sade took them before pausing to turn around and face him, snapping her fingers to regain his sober attention.

“Once we cross this threshold, you will need to behave yourself.  I won’t ask you again, otherwise consequences will be set.”  She says calmly.

Foley looks around the hallway, rubbing his hands together before whispering.  “Whatever you say, mistress.  I am at your command.”  His Dad-bod practically vibrated with excitement as she opened the door.  As it closed with a clang, Foley peers around to inspect the various chains, harnesses, chairs with binding mechanisms that decorated the room.

“Whew, this is-”

“SHUT UP!”  Sade yelled with a crack of a whip.  Foley turned around quickly in shock.

“Sade, I wasn’t-”

“Are you speaking out of turn after an order?”  Sade snarls.  In the midst of Foley looking around the room, she has put on a black lace mask covering her face and a nine tailed whip in one hand with ropes in the other.  

Foley shakes his head excitedly.  “My apologies!”

“Turn around and get on your knees.”  Sade says walking around the perimeter of the room like a lioness tracking her prey.  Foley does as he is told, fitting the profile of sub perfectly as he avoids eye contact.

“You are a stupid, worm-grubbing quim aren’t you?”  Sade says matter of factly, playing with the nine-tails in front of him.

Foley nods aggressively.

“ANSWER ME!  Don’t you have a tongue?!” Sade demands, this time cracking the whip across Foley’s arm.  

He shrieks.  “Agh!  Yes! Yes mistress, I am!  I do!”

“Hm, we’ll see about that later...Do you have a problem with authority?”  Foley stammers, not sure how to answer.  “A man of such wealth and status must know a thing or two about breaking rules….Are you going to break mine?”

“No mistress.  I’ll listen to every word!”  

Sade puts her heel into his chest, leaning against him on her knee as she speaks in his face.  “Have you ever let a Black person tell you what to do?”

Once again, Foley is at a loss for words as Sade runs a gloved hand through his thin, short strands of hair, before bringing the palm of her hand square across his cheek with a hard SLAP.

“That ends today.  Tell me Black Lives Matter.”  Sade commands with a dig of her heel that makes him wince.

“Ahh, Bl-Black Lives Matter.”  Foley says hesitantly.

Sade takes her foot off of him before cracking the whip on him again.  “LOUDER!”

“Black Lives Matter!  Thank God, they matter!”  Foley says more enthusiastically.

Sade looks him over with disgust.  “Take off your clothes as you recite every Black person you know that has contributed to the fabric of our nation.  Go!”

Foley starts with the buttons on his jacket and an ode to Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr.  (Sade had to whip him for leaving off the Jr.)  getting down to his briefs before stuttering on names, giving up before after he said Bill Cosby, holding his hands in front of his manhood.

“It’s not cold, put your hands down!”  Sade demanded.

He does do quickly, looking embarrassed at the small protrusion he can’t seem to control.

Sade shakes her hand tutting him.  “I’m glad you’re having fun.  It’s a shame though, how little you know.  The American private school system really failed you.  However I am in a generous mood and have every  intention on catching you up to speed.  With a little help from a friend.”

On cue, the door opens and in walks his associate.  

Foley protests.  “Whoa, hey, this may have been incorrect info you got.  I’m not into THAT.”  

Sade grips his hair at the root.  “Have my boot as a snack while the adults talk.”  Stomping her foot in front of him, Foley bends down on the concrete floor to kiss and lick her shoe.

Sade sighs, wiping her brow.  “Babysitting is so hard.  What took you so long Erik?”

He unbuttons his jacket sighing.  “His fucking card wouldn’t go through upstairs.  So this muthafucka owe me his life and some change now.”  

Erik picks up Foley’s pants, ruffling through his pockets for his wallet.

“Whoa, bro, what are you doing?  You aren’t a part of this!”  Foley says.  

Sade was not pleased with this interruption, bringing her boot around to land it squarely with his chin.  The crack of the impact echoed in the room as Foley flopped on his back, writhing in pain.

“What...the….FUCK!”  He yells out, blood starting to coat his fingers.

“Damn, Sade!”  Erik exclaimed, staring at his girl.

Sade inspects her boot.  “Shit, he got a damn scuff in it, now I’m really pissed.  Tie his ass up so we can move on.”  

Erik handles Foley like a ragdoll, turning him over and using Sade’s ropes to tie his hands behind his back.

“You fucking niggers don’t know who you’re dealing with!”  Foley says through clenched teeth.  

Erik pulls him up by his arms over to a part of the wall with a collar and chain attached to it.  Turning Foley around, he hooks his neck up to the contraption.

“You really want them to be your last words, bitch ass cunt?”   Erik says, tightening the collar on the last possible notch.   “Gotta use they language to get to em sometimes.”  Erik says to Sade.

Foley laughs nervously as tears fill his eyes.  “I could make you rich, man.  Get your mom out the ghetto.  You got any siblings?  You could take them anywhere!  I’ll turn your life around in ways you never seen, just let me out of here with this bitch!”

Sade sits on a stool trying to buff out the mark on her shoe.  “Erik, his voice is annoying me…”  She says in a sing-songy manner.  

Erik pulls out Foley’s phone from his pants pocket, holding it up to his face to unlock it.  

“Fuck!  I shoulda known that facial unlock would bite me in the ass.”

Erik opens his camera to take some pictures.  “Aww, shit!  You finna be the Belle of the Ball once these circulate through your contacts.  No way your bros at the Capitol can clean this mess up.”  Erik laughs, showing the gallery to Foley, who is whining for mercy.

“Come on!  Don’t do this!  Let’s talk this over!  You need some money?  Let me give you something something, and we can work this out.  No harm no foul!”

“Give him your bank login, we’ll handle the rest.”  Sade instructs from across the room.”

Foley shifts, blinking the sweat out of his eyes.  “I-I mean, you don’t wanna give me a figure first-”

Erik sends a strong blow to Foley’s gut, knocking the wind and dignity out of him.

“O...k…” Foley rasps as he coughs through his username and password for Erik to set up a transfer.

“Thanks for the paycheck, bro.”  Erik, takes some leather gloves off of a table, sliding them, flexing his fingers.  “No way in hell you can help me while you still got breath in your body.  And ain’t shit you can do for me.  That neighborhood you wanna run over so fuckin bad ain’t yours to take.  White folks can’t never miss out on a land deal, fuckin colonizers.”

Foley struggled against his bindings, becoming agitated.  “I am providing a service!  Something that will make their world better!”

Erik punches the wall next to his head, cracking the concrete.  “A world you ain’t got no plan to let them in?  They already got a place to stay, and you want them outta there cuz the living is too cheap and they barely affording that.  So instead of working for them, you’re just gonna build shit that they can’t afford, segregating them even more until they gotta leave.  Turning half the shit into fucking parking lots any damn way.”

Foley breathes heavily, swallowing hard.  “It’s so disappointing to hear you settling for less, bro.  It really is…”

Sade comes up behind Erik, handing him a club and brass knuckles.  

“I don’t need that shit, I got this.”  Erik insists with a wink.

Sade rolls her eyes.  “Try not to get blood on your clothes.  We have dinner reservations in an hour.”

As Erik takes off his jacket and dress shirt. Foley says, “Aye, what was it you said before?  Roaches always surviving?  What’s it to you when they’ll find another hole to crawl into?  Making babies and killing themselves, it’s the circle of life.  I'm just tired of seeing your Black asses fucking with my city.”

Erik reaches behind his back near his waistband to swiftly take take out his military issue knife, grabbing Foley by his neck, slamming his head into the wall.  As Foley neck folds sheath his hand, Erik brings the knife slowly to his eye socket as Foley closes his eyelids tightly.  That only makes the process more messy as he screams in excruciating pain while Erik skillfully gouges him.

“There.  Now you aint gotta see shit. That better?”  Sade says, walking away at this point when all she heard was the pounding of Erik’s fist in bone.  Foley’s feebled cries in pain didn’t last long when Erik socked him in his mouth, making him swallow his own teeth.  Sounded as if he even indulged in the knuckles and the club after all, as he dared Foley to say something again, until it was impossible to do so Sade sat in her seat, reviewing her manicure as the cacophony of pounds into Foley’s body turned soft.

Erik’s breathing was the only thing left as he made his way back over to Sade with a wild nature in his eyes, and blood coating his knuckles and face.

“Ohhh, look at you!  You’re never careful when I ask you to!”  Sade scolds him as she pulls out a handkerchief and water, wiping down his hands.

“You know how I get carried away in the moment.”  Erik says, voice gravelly as he stares at Sade.

Sade finishes off his hands, reaching for his face to clean.  “Mhm, I know.  Lucky for you, I brought a spare undershirt to change.  What about your pants…”  Sade brushed some dust near his crotch, feeling his dick twitch under her touch.  “That is enough!  I’m not cancelling this dinner.  It's been weeks in the making!”

Erik bites his lip, leaning over Sade as she digs through her bag.  “You blaming me when you out here dressed like that, kicking white folks in the face and not expecting me to wanna fuck you for that?”

Sade reaches for the collar of his shirt, tearing it halfway off his him with a blade between her teeth.  She takes it and aims it over his chest.  “You know how we celebrate…”

Applying pressure, she drags it slowly across his skin, red liquid bubbling along the length of the cut as Erik seethed.  The satisfying release of his skin allowing the penetration of her blade made her breath hitch in her chest. “We got another one, we mark the occasion.  Without him contacting his people in DC, no way they can settle a vote to gentrify now.”  

Sade runs her thumb along the blood trickling out, wiping it clean before bring her face in his chest to lick his wound.  The soft, muskiness of his skin is too tempting for her to let go as she caresses his chest.

Erik sighs deeply, taking one hand to grab her ass and the other wraps her braids around its knuckles pulling her face back as he devours her mouth hungrily.  Erik lifts her up and onto a nearby table with a thud, pulling her skirt up to her waist as she reaches to free him from his trousers.

“Ooh, dont make me scar your back up now.  This is lucky number 57?”  Sade chuckles as Erik brings ankles to his shoulders, leaning over her.

The way Erik looks at her, one might think she was his sworn enemy.  But this is Erik’s favorite time with Sade.  Not just fucking, but taking out white folks that aren’t doing shit for anyone but themselves, leaving a trail of dead brown and black bodies behind them.  Doing this vigilante justice together never got old.

“Try me. And a lot more to come.”  Erik promises as Sade kisses his keloid riddled arm, biting down once he entered her.

Sade peppered Erik with affection as they fucked.  Their roles easily switched from business to pleasure.  Sade being the brains behind most of the operations, and Erik being the muscle, all he needed was to be told where to go and he had the rest.  But as lovers, Erik took control of her, and she needed that change of pace.  

As Erik reaches for her throat, he put his weight on her, lapping at her neck as he digs her out desperately.  Sade gasped with each stroke he dropped inside of her, seeing stars as her breath quickened.  Her head fell to one side as she got a full view of the damage Erik did to Foley’s body.  The bruising, the bone jutting from his skin, blood pooling near his collapsed skull was all too much for Sade.   She came so hard, Erik nearly slipped in her wetness flooding between them, tightening up on Erik until he contributed his own fluids to their celebration.

Erik lays still on top of her panting.  “How much time left we got on the room?”

Sade rubs his back, still smooth but hopefully not for long once they continue their mission.  “45 minutes.”  She smacks his shoulders, willing him to roll off of her.  “You’re cleaning up by yourself this time.  Your dick is making me miss dinner, I’ve suffered enough.”

Erik laughs slow and deeply as he rubs his face, satisfied all the same.  “You need a mop-iana?”

RagTag  (it’s been so long since I wrote, I’m forgetting who likes to be tagged)

@chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat @wakanda-inspired

[mokocchii]

The Kyman Fanfic Ultimate Guide (or in other words, how to be a kyman hoe)

So lurking in Kyman fandom for awhile people would ask, what do you recommend reading? Well, after much searching I conjured up a list in what I believe to be the best Kyman fics. As well since this is Kyman week might as well fellow fans read some good shit during this fabulously gay week.

Remember folks, my list is incredibly biased HOWEVER from reading countless kyman fanfics and engaging with fellow kyman fans, this is solely based on what I consider to be strong kyman fics in terms of story structure, writing style, characterization, and overall enjoyment.

RATING: E

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we don't sleep when the sun goes down

by izzybusiness

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450338

“Okay, will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Cartman finally yells, clearly at the end of his tether. “So, what, everyone here got struck by lightning and now you’ve got superpowers like some kind of all-gay Justice League?” Misfits AU.

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Unwell

By cigarettestainedeyes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319431

Kyle's being introduced to a whole new side of himself, the panicked side, the scared side, and he doesn't much care for it. Support comes from the last place he expected.

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The Rules

By Creatortan

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13389867

South Park has many rules. 

1) don’t try to get involved with Kyle Broflovski. You will face the wrath of Eric Cartman. Plus Kyle just isn’t interested, even if he pretends to be.

2) don’t try to get involved with Eric Cartman. You will face the wrath of Kyle Broflovski. And Eric isn’t interested and doesn’t try to hide that. 

3) don’t try to get in between Cartman and Kyle. It never ends well. Just let them get it out of their systems.

.

RATING: T

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Cant we just try?

By shortstackedchessecake96

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187086

If Eric had his stubborn way, he'd deny his feelings forever. But Kyle's not going to let that happen.

 .

Higher, Higher

By Sweeticing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13518693/chapters/31008642

Bebe tries to use a love potion on Kyle, but the plan goes wrong when the potion makes him fall for Cartman instead. Good thing Cartman hasn't been pining for Kyle for eight years or anything crazy like that.

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Cartman Gets bored

By sorrowfulJoy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13062774

Cartman gets bored at 11pm and tries to get his friends to come and spend time with him, texting fic

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Secondhand

By SnyapticFirefly

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751491

Cartman does what he does best: peer pressuring impressionable Jews the only way he knows how.

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Keep Your Enemy Closer

By guineabees

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123163

A story about what happens when a superhero and their rival have been living under the same roof without realising it.

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I Won’t Fall For You

By shortstackedchesscake

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13247808

Just when Kyle thought turning up alone to a wedding - that was starting to feel like a college reunion - couldn't get any worse, it turns out Eric Cartman is invited too. But Eric may just be his saving grace, and Kyle decides to run with his inevitably crazy plan even if he thinks he knows better. But Kyle is a lot smarter than his college friends, he won't fall for Eric that easily... will he?

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the coriolis effect

by briwookie

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544261

"There's nothing wrong with being attracted to the same sex." Kenny would say, but Eric Cartman had always thought otherwise.

It just surprises him that it takes Kyle Broflovski getting drunk at a bar with another man to prove him wrong

 .

Sunday best and broken glass

By cherryvanilla

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2296934

Cartman doesn’t do nervous. He’s done plenty of fucking public speaking, public singing, public anything but tonight – tonight, he’s nervous. Maybe it’s because this stupidly means more than any of those other times, even though he wishes to fuck he could deny that. Because he actually cares this time. It isn’t based around some manipulation. Maybe it’s because Stan’s up there right now singing and playing electric guitar to Sweet Child O’ Mine like a lame-o, but he’s actually fucking good and all Cartman’s got is a dumb emo love song and an acoustic and a future bill for rejection.

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Between love and hate

By izzubusiness

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239649

“Fuck you, whore!” Cartman yells, getting to his feet and stomping over to the other end of the room. “What the fuck are you even doing in my house?” 

“What were you doing with Kyle’s tongue in your mouth?” Wendy counters back, and if Stan’s head wasn’t about to explode under the weight of everything going on, he thinks he might have high fived her for that wicked burn.

 .

I said I wouldn't by I did

By captaindude

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2754203

In which Cartman is whipped and he doesnt even know it. but mostly sex though.

 . 

Redéfinition de l'individu

By Kymanlvr

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6481633/1/Redéfinition-de-l-individu

Kyle Broflovski is tired of his dull, unchanging life. But after he returns from being away from South Park for the summer, things start to spiral out of control, and everything falls apart. Mainly Kyman. Strong language and references to sex.

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Don’t Touch Me

By Soul Flash

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5231878/1/Don-t-Touch-Me

When your life hits an all time low, things can't possibly get any worse, right? Not for Kyle Broflovski. Slash, Kyle/Cartman.

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Respect My Authority

by Soul Flash

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5687376/1/Respect-My-Authority

There's only one thing you can do when a Jew tries to mess with your mind: play some mind games yourself. After all, all's fair in love and war. Kyman, slash. Cartman's POV. Companion fic to Don't Touch Me.

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Boundaries

By cutie pie 9335

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6547130/1/Boundaries

Cartman finally crosses the line that Kyle had so carefully drawn. Kyman, amongst other pairings.

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Afflictions and Affections

By PartiPooper

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10588091/1/Afflictions-and-Affections

When Kyle is sick, as per usual, Cartman pays him a visit. He even so much as looks after him, in his own bitter-sweet way. (Fluffy Kyman One-Shot; Rated T for profanities.)

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The Sorry Struggle

By Partipooper

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11152548/1/The-Sorry-Struggle

When Cartman does something bad to Kyle, he tries to say sorry - "tries" being the keyword. AKA, How Not To Say Sorry To Your Boyfriend. (Slightly Silly Kyman One-Shot; Rated T for profanities, slightly sexual scenes, and the follies and flatulence of youth.

 .

if I didn't believe in you, we’d never have gotten this far

by orphan_account

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11282883

Kyle and Eric are both getting tired of the 'no strings attached' asterisk attached to their relationship.

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The Stag Prince

By Synaptic Firefly

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4979806/chapters/11437663

A Swan Princess parody. Grand Wizard Prince Eric and High Elf Prince Kyle are roped into an arranged marriage. Honestly, who thought this was a good idea to start with? Eventual Kyman, slight Stenny, and poor Butters is a paladin.

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RATING : M 

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Restraints

By Soul Flash

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5867328/1/Restraints

“Goddammit, Jew...” Cartman breathed as he furiously began to work on Kyle's belt buckle, “Why'd you have to wear a goddamn belt today...?” Kyman. Graphic lemon. Contains whipping, rimming, frottage, dirty talk, masochism, and more.

 .

How Long Till You Surrender?

By wettmark

https://archiveofourown.org/works/453686

Stan is self destructing, Craig Tucker might be gay, Butters can't handle Cartman's wiener, and Kyle just wants to get out of South Park without losing his mind, his best friend, or his virginity.

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A Series of Left Turns

By ScribbleSibly

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4088479/chapters/9208600

Kyle, now 17 and preparing to be a responsible adult, is drowning in the stress of his mundane life. Until Cartman gets an idea. Kyle POV. Heavy swearing and smut later on.

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Perfectionist

By shortstackedcheescake96

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6452782

Kyle appreciates Eric's praise perhaps more than he really should. It is rare, after all. (All characters are 18+)

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Backseat Confession

By psychelelicgoolash

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907814

It was moments like these he wondered why he let that Jewish son of a bitch ensnare him like he did. How Kyle could just wrap him around his finger as he rolled onto his back, allowing Cartman full access to his unfastened jeans. Aged Up. Kyman. Smut.

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Comfort

By NocturnalLament

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5361029

Unable to sleep due to 'unfortunate circumstances', Kyle finds solace in the form of Cartman - but as is inevitable with these boys it's not as simple as a mere sleepover, and Kyle gets more than he'd bargained for. This fanfic is based on the events of the incredible blog 'Ask The Main Four' on Tumblr, and is totally canonical to the universe. NSFW Kyman smut, first time and delicious grinding warning.

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Games

By NocturnallLament

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4932157

The card game was enjoyable at first, but it very soon became clear Cartman had much bigger ambitions for is 'alone time' with Kyle - despite his parents sleeping in the room down the corridor. Unable to resist, Kyle tries to contain himself and stay quiet... but it's much easier said than done, especially when the sex is THIS good.

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Mission Accomplished

by NocturnalLament

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3144293

Concerned about the imminent yearbook photographs, Kyle is intent on staying clean of hickeys - much to Cartman's displeasure. But Eric has never been one to back down from a challenge, and if he can help it the feisty auburn wont stay reluctant for long. Yummy smut with hints of fluff at the end. Kyman One-shot.

 .

more than words can say

by NocturnalLament

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794164

After an innocent slip of the tongue, Kyle can't help but wonder if he'd put their relationship in jeopardy. After a summer of strange behavior and evasiveness from Cartman, Kyle wants answers... but the truth is something he never had expected.

One word to describe myself

By confunded

https://archiveofourown.org/works/604033

"Because he was mine, and in a way he always had been. He just didn’t know it. Yet." Your standard love/hate oneshot featuring our favorite frenemies. Established sort-of-relationship, Cartman wants more and Kyle is a tease. Fighting ensues. Super smutty, but maybe there's more to it than just some porn. Maybe.

 .

Denial

By SchwiftyJerry666

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13728942

At parties, when everyone's usually too high or drunk to notice or care, two enemies find that the line between love and hate is a very thin one indeed.

 .

Express Love

By BookishTea

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8799361/chapters/20173393

Kyle misses his husband after a long and boring business trip.

. 

Baby, Now you do

By charmzz

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13379967/chapters/30644319

Five years ago, Eric Cartman was hunched over him, with a fat hand on Kyle’s throat and the tip of a knife pointed between his eyes.

.

might last a day (minus forever)

by cherryvanilla

https://archiveofourown.org/works/420889

At twenty-five, Kyle Broflovski thought he had his life all planned out. He was living in Denver with Stan with a nice apartment and a decent job. Suddenly, his world is turned upside down when Stan breaks up with him and he loses his job all in the span of a few months. Now Kyle is back in South Park, living with his parents, and trying to figure out where he goes from here. Enter Eric Cartman, who always got under Kyle’s skin as a kid, and who was now about to do so again, in more ways than one. (A story about reevaluating yourself and your life. Or, How Kyle Broflovski Got His Groove Back.)

 . 

Go on, take everything (I want you to)

By cherryvanilla

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070895

In retrospect, Kyle should’ve seen it coming. In retrospect, he really didn’t. Sequel to might last a day (minus forever).

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Fake it so real

By cherryvanilla

http://archiveofourown.org/works/266865

In which there is a party and seven minutes in heaven.

.

 I am beyond fake

By cherryvanilla

http://archiveofourown.org/works/503667

It’s been exactly 24 hours since Kyle was in seven minutes in heaven with Cartman and he hasn’t thought of anything else but the feel of his lips and the press of his body. Sequel to Fake it So Real.

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Disintegration (is the best album)

By dont_take_me_im_seriously

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13325070/chapters/30499041

Kyle's Sunday morning began with an appalling marriage proposal and only got stupider from there. Now he's on the run from the government, stranded in a post-apocalyptic wasteland and contending with the idea that Eric Cartman might just have a heart to break after all.

. 

Tough Luck & Tough Love

By kylebiased

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807146/chapters/31746348

Cartman bets he can break his previous bike-jumping record. Kyle bets he cannot. Cartman bets that if he can make said jump, Kyle will have to own-up to his end of their old fourth grade bet, and give him head. Kyle accepts this bet, since he obviously, cannot lose.

Cartman wins and now Kyle, is totally, screwed.

...Only thing Cartman never betted on, however? Finally realizing he's got actual feelings for Kyle.

Now, they're both screwed.

.

Put out the fire on us

By I_Already_Forgot

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262815/chapters/16490188

 .

Cartman cheats at a bet he'd made with Kyle and when the other refuses to pay him Cartman decides to get creative. Kyle knows not to let Cartman goad him into anything, but in the end his ego wins out and through a series of poor decision making they find themselves stranded in the woods all night, handcuffed together, bruised and battered. They have to work together in order to make it through and the near-death experience forces them to talk in ways they haven't before. The ordeal sheds new light on their friendship, and Kyle wonders if things will ever be able to go back to the way they used to be, or if he even really wants them to.

.

Hate

By Kymanlvr

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5953936/1/Hate

There are people in this world that would, upon first glance, have looked at them and called them enemies. A story about Kyle and Cartman, and how a series of events bring them closer together. Kyman.

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Hiring Hope

By Partipooper

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10659998/1/Hiring-Hope

Cartman has a job interview to attend, and Kyle has worrying about him to do. (Fluffy & Smutty Kyman One-Shot; Rated M for profanities and sexual scenes.)

 .

Time Bomb

by sweeticing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009413

Cartman got therapy, Kyle has a hard-on, and New Year’s Eve remains a cause for celebratory champagne even if you’re locked in a bathroom with your worst enemy.

 .

In my office, now

by mokocchii (yes i wrote a fic too)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14469690 

Working for Mr. Cartman hasn't been easy. (Or has it?)

.

.

HONORABLE MENTION (If already a kyman fan you’ll get the joke)

Kyle in Chains

By DanniDinmont

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4676235/1/Kyle-in-Chains

Kyle has a problem, and it seems that there's only one solution to it. Slash, Kyle/Cartman.

.

.

.

I also wanna give a shoutout to these kyman authors, cherryvanilla, shortstackedchessecake96, partipooper, ScribbleSibyl, synapticfirefly, and NocturnalLament for their surplus of quality quantity fics. They’ve written more than what I mentioned on this list, so I highly recommend to read ALL their work regarding Kyman. I suggest to check both their AO3 and FF.net accounts for the full archives of their work. 

Happy Kyman Week everyone! 

[slipstreamborne]

Clearer with Distance (2014 fic)

rating: G summary:  Donatello is almost eight before they finally find a pair of glasses with his correct prescription.  Before that, the severely farsighted turtle just has to make do.  His brothers do what they can to help out, even if it means reading all his boring stereo instructions to him for the millionth time. notes: 2k fluffy turtle tot fic with just a touch of angst. read at ao3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006035

The box is slick underneath Donnie’s fingers, glossy cardboard unwarped by water, the corners crisp and unworn.  New, or at least freshly thrown out, which for a mutated turtle scavenging the sewers of New York is basically the same thing.

His chest swells with excitement, expert fingers feeling at the seams until he finds the  opening flap.  The box is bulky but light—a promising combination—and rattles faintly when shaken.  Definitely some twist ties loose in there.  He gropes greedily inside, worming his skinny arm in between the broken pieces of protective Styrofoam until his fist closes on his prize: a thin paper booklet with staples along the binding.

“Oh no,” groans Mikey, somewhere off to his left.  “He found another one.”

“Not it,” says Raph automatically; a mistake, because he’s close enough that Donnie can pinpoint him by sound even if he has trouble picking his blurred form out from the rest of the garbage heap. 

“Raph!”  He thrusts the little pamphlet towards what he guesses is his brother’s nose.  “What’s this say?”

Shadows of hands shove him back, not hard enough to knock him over, though.  “I dunno, genius.  It’s dark.”

“Not that dark.”  A greasy yellow glow fills the far end of the tunnel, casting crisp shadows against the brick.  The light’s softer here, the edges of things increasingly smeared the closer he gets to them, but it’s bright enough that Donnie barely has to use his flashlight.  It’s easier for him to spot the gleam of a potentially interesting object than sort through every washed up boot and rusted can by hand.  Safer, too, as the still-thumping cut bisecting his left palm can attest.  At least it’s finally crusted over and stopped oozing.  “C’mon, read it for me.”

“I ain’t gonna!”

“Read it read it read it read it—”

“Hush.” 

Dad doesn’t shout.  Dad hardly ever has to shout, and never twice.  Not so close to topside, anyway.  Donnie’s mouth clamps shut obediently.

“This is not the place.  Raphael will read to you when we get home, Donatello.”

Raph whines (“Daaaad, I read the last one!”), but his father holds firm, setting him back to the day’s scavenging with a single clipped command.  Reassured that he’s not the one to have been assigned to the task, the soft, mostly-blue shape of Leo finally pops into view, a smear of white slashing crookedly across where his mouth should be.

“Over here,” he says, taking Donnie by the hand (something Donnie hates, but on unfamiliar territory has no grounds to object to).  “Found a bunch of onions.  Help me  pick out the rotten ones.”

*

Everybody has their place within the family.  If you  need somebody to boost you into a high pipe or check in the shadows for monsters (Raph says that the towering white figures from his dreams with needles for fingers aren’t real, but Donnie’s not so sure), you get Dad.  If you need somebody to tell you all the rules for Yu-Gi-Oh or tattle on you when you wander too far into the dark, you get Leo.  Mikey’s great at farting at the dinner table and whining until you feel sorry for him when he loses a game that he made up the rules to, while it’s Raph’s job to not share when you want a turn at shooting baskets and snuggle up tight against you under the blankets when winter blows ice cold through the Lair.

Donnie’s got strong, nimble fingers and can recite long passages of Harry Potter from memory, even does a pretty good job of mimicking the voices that Dad uses, but when Leo finds a coverless copy of The Order of the Phoenix—their one missing title in the series—nobody asks him take over when Dad gets too tired to do another chapter.

It’s not that Donatello doesn’t know how to read.  Dad taught him his alphabet same as his brothers, one warm hand at his elbow as he guided Donnie’s finger through the thick, ever-gathering dust of the fan room floor, tracing out the shape of each letter over and over until Donnie had every stroke memorized. 

If he writes large enough, going back over each word twice with the long side of their few precious pieces of grubby sidewalk chalk until the pastel lines stand out bold against the dark concrete floors, Donnie can make out whole words.  Kanji is harder, crucial, tiny strokes lost amidst the overall shape of the character, but Dad has a long scroll of poetry in oversized calligraphy hanging above his sleeping mat that Donnie has had memorized since he was three:

A lovely thing to see: through the paper window's hole, the Galaxy.

For reasons he can’t yet explain, he has no trouble at all reading the oversized text of the bulletin boards he occasionally glimpses through narrow storm drains, hungry eyes devouring every line of copy even if he lacks the context needed to appreciate the appeal of things like “semi-annual sales” and “now in theaters”. 

He has never seen a star, much less a galaxy, but after some careful questioning, he doesn’t think Leo or Raph or Mikey have seen one, either. 

The bigger something is, the further it is away, the easier it is for Donnie to understand. 

The problem is that the things that interest him, that confound him and make him burn for more, are close and very, very small. 

He gets so frustrated.  So angry.  It’s there, it’s right there, but he can’t—

“Please.”  He shoves the stack of books into his brother’s hands.  “Please please pleeeeease...!”

“Fine,” Leo sighs, even though they both know that technically, it’s Raph’s turn again.  “Fine.”

There’s an old beanbag chair that Dad sewed up that’s almost big enough for two.  Leo tucks his feet under him primly while Donnie wedges himself firmly against his side, long legs braced against a crack in the concrete to keep them from toppling over. 

“I’m not reading you Advanced Wiring again, I know you’ve got that one memorized.”  He tosses the battered book to the side with a thump.  “So which’ll it be?  Heating and Plumbing or Decks, Porches, and Patios?”

“Decks.”  The meager collection of Time Life Home Repair and Improvement books is one of his most prized possessions.  Heating and Plumbing is his second favorite, but Leo’s terrible at describing all of the diagrams.  “The part about load-bearing footings.” 

The book smells comfortingly of mildew when Leo cracks it open.  He’s smaller than Donnie by almost half a foot, his head wobbling precariously on a neck barely bigger than Raph’s wrist, but he has a nice voice, smooth and even with an extra puff of breath behind the t sounds that Donnie finds himself echoing for hours afterwards. 

“Where do you want me to start?  Concrete forms or how to determine the frost line?”

“Doesn’t matter.”  He hasn’t told Leo that he’s actually memorized that one, too.  All of them, to be honest.  It’s just that sometimes he needs something, anything, to help his brain go quiet.  “Frost lines.”

Leo flips to the appropriate page, squirms until his shell is nestled more comfortably in the folds of the beanbag, and starts to read.  Donnie digs his sharp chin into the hollow of his brother’s shoulder, closes his eyes, and listens.

*

Mikey is the best at it, despite being the least interested in schoolwork of any of them.  Maybe it’s because of his blasé acceptance of his own academic shortcomings.  Where Leo huffs and repeats things over and over, trying to get it perfect, and Raph storms off with a growl at the first barrier he can’t punch his way through, Mikey plunges right along unrattled no how many bumps he hits, accepting any corrections to his pronunciation with a casual shrug. 

Even when the manual turns out to be written in French. 

“En-lev-ez le...’  The heck is this word, bro?  One of the letters is wearing a hat. ‘Buh... Booty-er?’”

“Spell it if you can’t sound it out.”

“B-O-I with a pointed hat-T-I-E-R.”

Donnie frowns, fingers retracing his steps across the condensation pump, trying to figure out which piece is most likely supposed to come off next.  “I think that’s the cover for the fan.”  He gives the fan enclosure an experimental pull, then a twist, then a harder, more determined pull, but it doesn’t budge.  He runs his fingers around its rim, looking for the telltale round bump of a screwheads, but finds nothing.   “Uh, is there a tab I’m supposed to press to make it pop off or...?”

“Maybe?”  A rustle of paper as Mikey folds the directions back to look at the diagram.  “Are you sure these are the right instructions for this pump?  It doesn’t quite look like the drawing.  That fan cover piece is a completely different shape.”

Donnie’s stomach does an anxious somersault.  And he’d been so excited to find something thrown away in its original box.  “I mean, a pump’s a pump, right?  How different can they be?”

Half an hour later, Donnie’s managed to remove the fan cover, but not without a sickening crack of plastic and a muffled swear from his brother that tells him he broke something.  Hopefully it wasn’t anything crucial.  He’ll have to run some tests after he’s finished cleaning it and putting it back together, but since the pump wasn’t working in the first place it will be hard to— 

The main hatch creeks open, then closed again.  “Tadaima!” call two voices.  Leo’s voice cracks on the last syllable, and Dad sounds tired, but pleased.

“Okaeri!” Donnie and Mikey call together, Raph chiming in faintly from the other side of the Lair.  Donnie sniffs the air.  Beneath the gust of sewer smell is the unmistakable odor of wet fur and back alley dumpster he’s come to associate with food. 

He puts down the tools to help Dad and Leo bring in the last of the groceries—bags and bags of iceberg lettuce with browned outer leaves (his mouth waters, knowing the cool, wet crunch awaiting inside), and a box of short pull tab cans that could be either tuna or cat food.  Mikey makes a pleased little chirrup as he passes him the cans, which means it’s probably the latter.  Fancy Feast is his favorite.    

The chore is quickly finished with five sets of hands.  Leo keeps bumping into him, thin limbs still quivering with the excitement of getting to go topside.  Donnie tucks his own arms close and starts edging out of the kitchen and back towards his corner of dissembled stereos, suddenly not a excited about the prospect of lettuce heart supper.  He’s never been above ground.  It’s too dangerous with his limited eyesight. 

“Ah, Donatello.  A moment more, my son.  I have a gift for you.”

A large, grey-brown shape crouches before him and presses a closed cardboard box into his hands.  Too large for a clock radio, too small to be a VHS player, but mostly empty either way. 

“You got Donnie an iron?!” asks Mikey incredulously, crowding close on his left. 

Raph huffs dismissively, but presses in close to his right.  “It’s just the box, dummy.” 

“Go on,” Leo says, fidgeting anxiously from one foot to another.  He’s too close for Donnie to make out his expression, but his tone suggests that there’s a surprise that he’s in on, or maybe some sort of joke.  “Open it.”

Something heavier than an owner’s manual is rattling around inside. Batteries, maybe, or an overlooked set of cables.  Dad couldn’t have been lucky enough to find him a discarded remote.

His family looms over him expectantly as he opens the box and reaches inside.  The shape of the object is bizarre:  two thick, curved circles, each attached to a long, hinged piece of plastic.

Glasses.  His heart sinks.  He’s lost track of how many pairs he’s tried, over the years.  His thumbs swipe idly across the lenses, noting with dull surprise how thick they are, the pronounced outward curve at their center. 

“Try ‘em on!” Leo grabs at his wrists, pushing the glasses up towards his face.  “Try ‘em, try ‘em!”

There’s a break in the bridge of the nose, he realizes as he unfolds them.  Somebody’s tried to fix them with tape but not done a very good job of it.  The glasses bend alarmingly as he slips them over his beak, one lens slipping down his cheek as he struggles to hold the other in place.  He looks up. 

The world looks very, very strange.  On his left, Mikey’s familiar smudged shadows.  On his right, a stranger in a red bandana peers at him through narrowed eyes, each pale green scale of his face glimmering  faintly gold under the bare kitchen light bulb.  In front of him, two more strangers, one skinny and green, fading back and forth into Leo's blurred shape as he bounces excitedly, the other tall and dark and covered in a thousand, million lines, each strand of drying fur casting its own shadow, blue robe speckled with tiny white and yellow stars, the pointed, black-eyed face haloed in a bristle of long, white whiskers.   

He gapes, speechless.

For the first time in his life, Donatello sees his father smile.