#i will talk about tenderness all day but do not get it twisted

[lorelune]

Thanks for that post about dark content lore. I do tend to consume it and the current state of tumblr...does not make me feel very good about myself when I read something as simple as a yandere fic. So hearing that from you gave me a little pick me up.

of course!! tumblr's current environment around dc is like... sad. abysmal. lacking any and all nuance. and overall, perpetuating a culture that does not promote creative freedom!! i truly mean i will always defend one's right to post and share dc. it is so deeply important to me and i'm glad that that sentiment brightened things for you!!

[sunaluv]

'IS SHE TAKEN?'

in which someone asks your man if you're single

feat: ran, gojo

RAN

the club setting was filled with more excitement tonight. don't get it twisted, any club or event hosted by the haitanis was guaranteed to be the event of the day, good vibes, hot people, and lots of money to be made. but when one of the brothers was actually present at the club? something about their aura seemed to bring out the vibes in people.

ran's hooded gaze watched adoringly at you across the club, the setting bringing nostalgia to the first time you met. ever the social butterfly you were, accepting another phone number from one of the girlfriends you made tonight. the other members of the roundtable looked at one another, wondering if the haitani brother was even present.

"no wonder you're so distracted, boss," the man next to him nudged him with his elbow, to which ran side-eyed him. "she's a looker, d'ya think she's single?"

your boyfriend appeared neutral as he let the guy ramble on about how hot you were, and what he would do to you given the chance. he missed the harsh roll of ran's eyes. if he didn't know you were spoken for, he would make sure this guy knew by the end of the night.

as if on queue, you waved bye to your new friends and started to make your way to the table. eyes followed your figure as you passed, but that was to be expected when the prettiest girl at the club walked past.

"hey, sweetheart," his soft lips pressed against the crown of your head. "you alright?"

"i'm good! a little tired though," you let out a deep sigh, melting into his arms. "these heels have been killing me..."

wordlessly, his large hands had your ankles in his lap, undoing the buckles on your heels and rubbing tender circles into the irritated skin.

he smirked at the relieved sigh that left your lips. "my buddy here has something to ask you, sweets."

the man next to you seemed to go silent since your arrival at the table, the consequences of his actions just hitting. a deep breath followed by a gulp as he wiped his damp hands against his slacks. he almost flinched when your hooded, yet dominating gaze met his own eyes, but after remembering who and where he was, he gained his composure almost as quickly as it left.

"nah 'ts nothin'," he waved his hand. "just a passing thought, is all..."

others both around the roundtable and those dancing near it tried not to make it obvious that they were watching the exchange going down. they found themselves pitying a character who would not deserve it, under different circumstances. but, as discussed, the haitani aura seems to throw things off of balance.

if he didn't want to talk, ran would do it for him. "he wants to know if your single, claims he could give you a lay better than your man could,"

your eyes left the man, instead looking over your boyfriends face in silent communication.

'you and i both know he can't'

'...i know, my love, just humor me every once in a while?'

'you're such a character sometimes, haitani'

'you love it though'

eyes darted between you, awaiting your response, thus his sentence in anticipation. he didn't know what telepathic language you were communicating in, but he was glad to not hear his fate get discussed right in front of him.

"i'm very flattered, but i have a boyfriend, sorry." your response was dry towards him, but the gaze you held with ran was anything but.

catching wind of what was about to happen, you excused yourself from the table, leaving a kiss on the corner of rans mouth, whispering a 'be good' in his ear before leaving.

whatever happened after your departure was not your business, after all.

GOJO

"hey man," a hand belonging to an unfamiliar man clasped on satorus shoulder. "do you know if the girl you came here with has a boyfriend?"

you had dragged your boyfriend to one of your friend's parties, much to his dismay. he's sworn off drinking after geto's blackmail folder started getting a bit thick, meaning there was nothing fun to do other than socialise, but he didn't want to after people flocked to him for the wrong reasons.

so now he was maybe the only sober one in this lively scene, which leads to the current events.

he spoke your name for clarity. "uhh, I'm not sure. you can go ask her if you want. ill even put in a good word for you."

has this man been a fraction more sober, he would've questioned why the blindfolded man's smile was so wide, or why he was so willing to help, but alas, this was a party and alcohol was supplied.

"thanks, dude! you're such a lifesaver."

satoru almost felt bad for the guy. he was practically buzzing whilst traversing through the sweaty bodies in search of you. he felt bad until he remembered how bored he was before this happened, he has to put himself first sometimes.

after a couple stumbles, reroutes and a rest break, they had finally found you in your angelic beauty, laughing with a group of girls he didn't know.

he thought it was quite cute how the guy seemed to become more shy at the sight of you, and satoru couldn't blame him. had he been someone more normal, he would act the same in your presence.

one of the girls caught sight of the pair by the entry and gestured you towards them. your face softened slightly at the sight of your six-foot-something boyfriend and his... friend?

"hey toru," you smiled, before looking at the other man. "who’s this?"

satoru said nothing, slapping the guy a little too harshly on the back before stepping back. the floor was his.

"hey," he breathed out, before introducing himself. "i saw you come in with your friend earlier, and just wanted to know if you were seeing anyone?"

your heart rate picked up, but not for the reason the guy was hoping. why was gojo like this? did he enjoy seeing you suffer?

he obviously did as when you looked over your shoulder to the said man, he gave you a big, encouraging grin with both thumbs up. the audacity.

he had thrown you to the wolves and left you to fend for yourself.

"uhm..." you breathed, trying not to shatter the poor guy's heart. "i have a boyfriend, unfortunately. sorry."

"what do you mean, unfortunately!" satoru mocked you from behind the guy. "I'm a total catch, right?" he turned to the guy. "right??"

though delayed, the guy had finally come to the realisation he had been punked by the man who egged him on the whole time. his face burst into a deep shade of red, apologising profusely before rushing back into the crowd.

"you're such an ass, gojo."

"the last name huh?" he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm in for it arent i?"

[ckret2]

Chapter 51 of human Bill Cipher is once more the Mystery Shack's prisoner: Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what the Axolotl's poem means; Dipper gets the hang of astral projection; and... whatever's going on up there happens.

####

Ford and Dipper came back into the shack through the gift shop; Ford didn't want to risk crossing paths with Bill. While Dipper went into the house, Ford went down—returning to the safety of his subterranean study.

Once Ford had put on the old black trench coat he'd worn during his multiversal travels and gotten comfortable at his desk, he pulled out Journal 5 to document the events of the last few days. In a cheap ballpoint pen, he wrote, I've lost my #1 Grunkle pen (and favorite coat) to the waters of Lake Gravity Falls. And then, deciding this didn't adequately express his feelings, he drew a small frown. That coat had served him well for decades, and he'd really liked that pen. It did write excellently, and it had reminded him of his gniece and gnephew.

He spent three pages documenting the eclipse—what happened, what readings he'd taken, what he and Dipper observed—and then another four pages talking about Bill. What he'd told them, why Ford had dismissed it; his claims about a trans-dimensional axolotl distorting gravity with its migration; the statue, the rescue, the breakdown.

The act of writing always helped Ford clarify his thoughts and untangle mysteries; it wasn't until he was writing that he realized the limbs Bill had said he couldn't feel were the ones that had broken off the statue.

He listed the rules of the chess variants he could remember Bill inventing. He drew Bill huddled in front of the board, grim, tear-streaked, exhausted; and then scratched out his face, embarrassed at the thought of immortalizing such a raw moment for his private viewing.

He wrote, There's still a slim possibility that the entire "eclipse," start to finish, was Bill's masterfully-orchestrated scheme to make us pity and trust him; but it's unlikely. Although Bill is fiendish enough, he isn't currently powerful enough, and his lies certainly aren't elaborate enough. If he could pull off such a byzantine ruse, then he could just as easily escape—and if he can escape, why hasn't he? Bill may be insane, but he's never been THAT irrational.

And so, even as twisted as Bill's idea of "friendship" is... for the very first time, I'm convinced that he was telling the truth all along when he said he wants me as his friend. It's not an act. He risked his life to save someone who's an active threat to him.

And at the end of it all—though I'm grateful to be alive in spite of my own stubbornness—do I like him any better for it?

Ford leaned back and shut his eyes, sifting through the inner tumult of anger and old hurt that defined most of his memories of Bill, looking to see if anything had changed.

There was a sore, tender spot in his emotions, a place beginning to rot with remorse; when he prodded at those emotions, he found that it was shame over his own harsh conduct of the last couple of days. But he was only ashamed of how cruelly he'd acted; he wasn't ashamed that Bill was the one he'd done it to.

Outside of that tender spot—regret over his own behavior—nothing else had changed.

No. I still hate him. I'm grateful to be alive, but I hate him. He hasn't undone anything he did to my family and me, and he never will. Forgiveness can't be purchased with favors.

I'm only relieved at the certainty of it. Bill has committed an act that can't possibly be a lie. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's shown me the truth; and the truth is he'd rather see me alive than dead. Whatever other lies he may tell, I can hold on to that fact.

Bill's miserable eyes peered out at Ford between the scribbles he'd drawn across his face. It was truly a pity that Ford had to hate him. Pity that Bill hadn't been somebody better. He could have been better.

Ford couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he'd filled four pages talking about the monster he'd already wasted so many more on. Bill had been right about him: You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. The only thing Bill didn't understand was that hatred and obsession weren't mutually incompatible.

####

"Hey, Dipper," Mabel said, unfolding the living room sofa bed. 

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, passing through living room on his way to the stairs. He climbed up to the attic.

He came back down from the attic. "Mabel. Why's Bill asleep in your bed."

"He really needed a nap," Mabel said.

"Okay but why on your bed?"

Mabel pouted. "Dipper, do you realize he's never slept on a real bed? Ever?"

Dipper tried to imagine sleeping on a couple couch cushions on the floor every night. "Yeah, okay, that does kinda suck." Even if it was Bill's own fault he wouldn't sleep in the living room.

By unspoken mutual agreement, having a Bill in the bedroom followed the same law as finding a centipede in the bathroom. The law was "that's the centipede's bathroom now." So once the folding bed was set up, they sat on it to serve as their hang-out spot for the evening and caught each other up on what they'd done the last couple of days.

After Dipper & Co. had left, Grenda had come over to take advantage of the low gravity to retrieve the kite that had been stuck in a tree near the Mystery Shack since last summer (it was, tragically, too tattered to salvage), and then they'd gone over to Candy's house to photograph each other performing feats of impossible strength. (Mabel would be sending some pictures to their parents to confuse them, and adding the rest to her summer scrapbook.) She'd spent the next day breaking the trampoline world record until Soos came outside and said gravity was probably too low for it to be safe to be up in the air anymore, if Bill's warnings about being off the ground when gravity hit zero were true; at which point Mabel had hung around inside air-swimming until she suddenly slammed against the ceiling, and then the ground. She was fine. She just had a couple of bruises. She showed Dipper her bruises.

In return, Dipper told Mabel about how their quest had gone: the checks for micro-rips, Bill's increasingly frantic warnings, the lake—

("You got to see a bajillion magical axolotls and I didn't?!")

—the cliff, the Axolotl, Dipper's near-death experience, and what he now knew about his out-of-body dreams.

"Seriously?" Mabel hissed, eyes bugging out. "And he had us looking up lucid dreaming books! What a jerk!"

"I know! He could have just ignored the whole thing, we didn't even think it was anything but dreams."

"And I'd thought he was being so helpful, too! Like he was really trying to make up for giving you 'nightmares'!" Mabel laughed in disbelief and flopped down on the flimsy mattress. "All that because he just didn't want us to know how it was really his fault? Biiill, ugh."

His fault. Dipper hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Mabel what Bill had said about Mabel's Fault; then decided against it. Bill had probably been telling the truth when he'd said he only wanted all the credit for Weirdmageddon.

But—Dipper did tell her about Bill saving their lives. He would have felt like a liar if he hadn't—like he was trying to trick his sister into thinking Bill was worse than he already was. He hoped Ford wouldn't mind; but how could he not tell Mabel?

"He could have just let you die and didn't?" Mabel turned that over in her head, processing this sudden shift in Bill's behavior. "Wow. I'm impressed."

He also told her about their previous encounter with the Axolotl. Considering the other lies Bill had told recently, anything he said about them meeting the Axolotl was dubious at best; but Dipper could remember the Axolotl, so maybe some of it was true, even if Bill had twisted as much as he could. ("The Axolotl said hi, by the way." "Aww. Tell him hi back!" "Yeah, I... don't know how to do that.")

Dipper laid out his journal between them on the folding bed, and Mabel read over the couplet a few times. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches from within birch trees'..."

"It's got to be talking about Bill," Dipper said. "Equilateral triangles have three sixty-degree angles. I just don't know why the Axolotl wanted to talk to us about him."

Mabel frowned at the lines. "I think... I remember meeting him too," she said.

"You do?"

"Kinda. Like in a dream," she said. "We were in some kind of futury space race car. And he had a really comfortable beanbag chair."

"Yes! I remembered the beanbag chair, too!" And he hadn't mentioned it in his journal. "This is great! Talking about it must... must cause us to remember, somehow. Maybe since the universe where we met the Axolotl doesn't exist anymore, our memories of it are... detached or something? Psychically floating around between dimensions until we try to remember them?" He took in Mabel's skeptical frown and shrugged. "I don't know!"

She scrunched up her face. "Ugh. Last summer's first-grader time travel was complicated enough. This is like college-level time travel. Maybe we can ask Bill how it works?"

She said it so easily, like she thought it was actually a good idea. Right after she'd heard about the lucid dreaming thing, too. "I don't think he'd help." Dipper lowered his voice. "He really didn't want Grunkle Ford and me to find out about the Axolotl—and he kept telling me not to think about what the Axolotl told me. He's trying to cover something up."

"Oo-oo-ooh." Voice dropped to a whisper, Mabel said, "Do you think it's some kind of Space Axolotl conspiracy?"

"It could be," Dipper said. "All I know is he was trying to tell us something important about Bill. Some kind of prophecy, or... maybe a warning...?"

He trailed off. Mabel had stopped listening to Dipper. She was rereading the couplet Dipper had written, moving her lips like she was murmuring under her breath—but whatever she was saying, it was much longer than the couplet Dipper had written down. Distractedly, she said, "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah, here." Dipper quickly handed over the pen he kept in his vest.

Mabel clicked it, went to the bottom of the page, and wrote: A different form, a different time.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath as the words snapped into place in his mind. "That's it! That was the last line! What else do you remember?"

"That's it," Mabel said. "It was free form poetry with a bunch of rhyme pairs."

"I don't think free form poetry rhymes."

"Pbbbt." Mabel blew a raspberry and shoved Dipper's face. "Whatever! You know what I mean." She pointed at the last line. "Do you think the poem's about why Bill's here? He time traveled to the Mystery Shack in a new body..."

"Exactly! Bill must be back here for a reason. He's got all those powers—or, used to, anyway—and he knows more about the multiverse than anybody on Earth... Maybe there's some kind of big threat coming, and Bill's the only one who can stop it, and—and the Axolotl wanted us to know...?"

"I like the sound of that," Mabel said. "That'd basically make him a hero, right?"

Dipper grimaced. "I mean. I guess? But we're talking about Bill. If he does help us stop a threat, it'd be like if a serial killer picked up a hitchhiker and killed him, and then it turned out the hitchhiker was an even worse serial killer."

"That still sounds kinda heroic to me."

"Pfff, okay." He looked at his journal. "But... what is he here to do?"

Mabel considered what they'd already written. "Maybe we can use him to spy on our enemies through birch trees!"

"Thaaat's probably not it."

"No, I think I'm on to something. I can feel it."

There was a lot of empty space between his couplet and Mabel's line. "There's more we're missing, though. Maybe the rest of the poem describes the threat? Or what we need to get Bill to do?"

"I can't remember anything else, though."

"Me neither."

They stared at the page together, waiting for something to come to their blank minds. Mabel looked at the fish tank. "Hey, Primrose! Do you know anything?"

The pet axolotl in the tank ignored her serenely.

Dipper said, "'Primrose'?"

"Yeah, last summer Grunkle Stan said her name is Freakface, but I thought she deserved a cuter name. She's primrose color!"

"Ford says he originally named him Nikola."

Mabel gasped. "Nikki..."

Dipper twisted around to look at the axolotl. "Do you know anything? Do you... get messages from the Axolotl's heralds, or anything...?"

Nikola slowly opened his mouth, and slowly closed it.

Mabel said, "Hey. The Axolotl's one of those dimension-crossy time-travely guys, right? He probably wouldn't have given us a prophecy in the wrong timeline and then made us forget it unless he knew we'd remember it in time in the rightdimension!"

"I guess," Dipper said uncertainly.

"So we don't need to worry about it! We'll remember it when we need to."

"Unless this timeline's going to branch, and the only one where we survive is the one where we put all our effort into trying to remembering—"

"Shhh!" Mabel put a finger over Dipper's mouth. "Uh-uh. No college time travel. We'll be fine!"

Dipper pushed her over. "Okay, but we should at least try a little to remember what the Axolotl told us."

"What if we work on it separately?" Mabel propped herself up on an elbow. "Instead of just sitting around thinking about it. And whenever we remember a line, we can tell each other and see if it makes anything click."

"That might be faster," Dipper said, stroking his chin. "We're already remembering different lines."

"Yeah! And that lucid dreaming book said something about focusing on a problem before you sleep so you can figure it out in your dreams! We can just work on it in our sleep and we'll remember it all in no time!"

Dipper laughed. "What? No way, I think lucid dreaming is just one of those made up pop psychology things. I didn't get it to work at all." Either it didn't work or Bill had deliberately recommended a terrible book.

"I did! I can remember like... eighty percent more dreams. And I can tell when I'm dreaming a lot more often!"

"Huh." Or, maybe Dipper just wasn't doing it right. "Maybe I need to start over from step one. Do you know where the book we were using went?"

"Over here!" Mabel had set a couple library books on the end table next to the sofa bed; she pulled out the second one, which had a glittery pink bookmark with a cat on it stuck two-thirds of the way through. "Just don't lose my bookmark."

"Thanks." He'd reread the first step before bed. "We should probably be getting ready for bed anyway, huh?"

"Seriously?! It's barely bedtime!" And when the adults weren't watching, official bedtime was an hour and a half before Actual Bedtime.

"I'm exhausted. I just hiked up and down a mountain and faced down death."

Mabel pointed at Nikola. "You faced down a big salamander."

"Close enough."

They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, went to their bedroom...

And stopped in the door. Bill was still asleep. "Oh. Right," Dipper said.

He was curled into a ball on his left side, facing the wall, covered with only the zodiac blanket and his borrowed/stolen top hat sitting on the side of his head. He didn't use a pillow; he'd pushed Mabel's pillows and dolls behind himself to form a squishy makeshift fortress.

"Please don't wake him up," Mabel whispered. (She'd already set up the folding bed for herself; she'd clearly planned on this.) "He's had a really really hard time the last couple of days, and I think he needs as much sleep in a real bed as he can get, and it's just for one night, and I'm sure he'd rather sleep than do anything evil—"

"He said something, didn't he?"

Mabel paused. "Yeah. I think seeing his body really messed him up."

Dipper sighed. "We were trying to keep him away from it." He didn't want Mabel to think they'd forced him to stare his own death in the face. "But he did that... eye thing and looked through the trees, and..."

Mabel nodded.

Well. Dipper couldn't kick him out now. For Mabel's sake.

As children, occasionally when they got hotel rooms with a bed too few, their parents would stick them in one bed with a barrier of pillows in between them. At age thirteen and without two crabby parents trying to get them to just go to bed after a long plane flight, they unanimously vetoed that plan. Dipper decided against asking Stan if he could sleep in Ford's unoccupied bed, both because he suspected Stan would just go upstairs and drag Bill out of the room and because he didn't want Stan to think he was scared of Bill. He wasn't scared of Bill. Not anymore. He could handle one measly night in the same room as him. Anyway, somebody had to make sure he wasn't unsupervised in their bedroom all night, right?

Dipper and Mabel quietly set a floor mirror and old lamp next to Mabel's bed, draped a sheet between them, taped on a pink poster that said "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" and was covered in stickers of triangular objects, and decided Dipper was adequately shielded. If Bill did get up during the night, he'd probably trip through the sheet and wake half the house before he got anywhere near Dipper.

Dipper went to sleep with a baseball bat in his hands.

####

"Okay," Bill said, hands on his sides, "what am I looking at here?"

The feral band members of Sev'ral Timez turned toward Bill, eyes reflecting in the dim light. They were squatting around Bill's petrified corpse like a pack of apes examining a sleek black monolith.

"Hey girl," Creggy G. said.

"Hey," Bill said. He looked down at himself. His onyx black feet hovered over the ground and the yellow glow from his exoskeleton illuminated the clearing. "Lemme cut to the chase, is this gonna turn into a raunchy dream? My corporeal love life is about as cold and dry as Antarctica, I keep hoping one of my dreams will get a little hotter and wetter—"

"Nah, G," Deep Chris said. "Mr. Bratsman got us fixed."

"Aw."

"We're here to pay you reverence for freeing our minds from the chains of the conventional," Greggy C said, gesturing to Bill's corpse. Leggy P was kneeling and bowing to it and Chubby Z was posing for it. "We want to help free you like you tried to help free humanity."

Bill's eye narrowed. He tapped a finger against the edge of one brick as he considered this offer. Finally, skeptically, he said, "Fine. I'll bite. Why should I think you can help me?"

"Because we can give you the understanding your heart's been missing, girl. You're just like us," Chubby Z said. "A horror never meant to exist, born of a dream to construct the perfect golden idol, forced to dwell within an unnaturally-fabricated human shell."

Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm with you so far."

"We want you to join us," Deep Chris said. "Cavort with us in the silvan night, G. Shun the harsh light of the spotlight for the healing salve of moonbeams. We'll get drunk on the sweet fermented summer berries, uncaring of how the brambles prick our flesh. We'll dance in a frenzy of ecstasy and only sleep when the morning sun lifts the dew from the flowers and the sweat from our skin. It'll be straight Dionysian, boo."

"We can kiss the hot trees," Creggy G said.

Bill grabbed his shoulder. "Oh, you're the human that keeps making out with birch trees! I knew your face was familiar!" He paused. "So... are there any eligible ones around here?"

"Sure, girl, just downstream."

"If I'd known, I would've polished myself first."

"Say you'll join us, Bill girl," Deep Chris said. The band crowded around Bill to either side, posing around him—the backup dancers for the star singer. "You'd be one of us."

"We're already exactly the same," Creggy G said, holding up a mirror so that it reflected his and Bill's faces beside each other. In Bill's human face were two empty white eyes with pinprick pupils and pale blue irises, exactly the same as the eyes of the Sev'ral Timez boys.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to his face. There were still green boughs at the edges of his dreaming vision, blending into the wooden boards of the Mystery Shack's attic. Before sleep had fully fled his mind, he seized up the zodiac blanket draped over his body and stared into his embroidered eye.

The eye stared back at him. Through it, he could see his horrified sleepy face, and his normal slitted yellow eyes. His connection to the blanket's eye disappeared as he finished waking up.

He heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down. He'd been lucid, but he hadn't been in control of that dream. He still needed practice.

He rolled toward the light of the window, groped around beneath it until he found his journal, grabbed up his crayons, and flipped pages blearily until he found the first blank one. He started writing down his dream, pausing only briefly as he tried to figure out how to translate "Sev'ral Timez" before settling on a sufficiently goofy way to misspell "several times" in Plaintext.

He made it halfway down the page before he stopped. Hold on. This wasn't his beautiful journal. These were not his beautiful crayons. He checked the cover and grimaced in displeasure when he saw a pine tree rather than a hand. Dipper's journal. Bill ripped out the page, ate it, and set the journal and Mabel's crayons back on the table  under the bedroom window.

"What was that," Dipper asked, "some kind of Morse code?"

Bill yelped and twisted around. Dipper's soul was hovering above Mabel's headboard, watching over Bill's shoulder.

"Hey! Back, foul ghost!" Bill snatched up Mabel's pillow and swung it at Dipper.

"Ow—Hey! How did you hit me, I'm in the mindscape—"

"I said back!" Bill swung again, chasing Dipper off the bed. "Back into your fleshy tomb!" He climbed off the bed, stumbled into Dipper and Mabel's trap, tripped through the sheet and probably woke up half the house.

He yanked the sheet off and flung the pillow at Dipper by its corner. "Now get back in your body, go to sleep, and leave me alone."

"I don't know how to get back in it. I just wait until it happens by itself," Dipper said, floating irritably over his sleeping body, arms crossed. "Why do you think I just wander around every time I have this dream?" He paused. "Right—it's not a dream, is it."

Bill sighed heavily. "Try putting your body on like..." He almost said like an exoskeleton, remembered his audience, and amended himself: "Like it's clothing. I usually start with the hands. Just like putting on gloves!"

Dipper looked at the cold fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat. "How do I put hands on like gloves? There's no opening or—"

"Just try it, would you?" Bill sat tiredly on the edge of Mabel's bed.

Dipper shot him an irritated look, but pressed his ghostly hands against his fleshly ones, passing through the skin until one set of fingers rested inside the other. A fingertip twitched. 

Bill gestured with one hand, continue. "Now the sleeves."

"I know how to get dressed." Dipper laid down in his body, forearm into forearm, shoulder into shoulder—until he was wholly back inside. He sat up, awake. "Huh."

"There, see?" Bill said. "And if you want to take it back off, just do the same thing in reverse. Like degloving your body from your soul!"

"Did you have to phrase it like that?" Still, Dipper tried it, peeling out of his body from the fingertips up. He left his body sitting upright as he hovered over it.

Bill chuckled tiredly. "Lookit your face, staring at nothing. Stupid looking."

"Shut up." He slid back into his body, more quickly now that he knew what he was doing.

"Great," Bill said. "Now that you know how to get back in your body, never do that again." He flopped back onto Mabel's bed and rolled over to face the wall. "It's a pain in my base having you wander around all night."

"Then you should've thought of that before you ripped my soul out of my body," Dipper grumbled. "Can you reattach me to my body?"

"Sure, easy." He lifted a hand to point down at his regrettably human form. "Not like this, though. Wanna help reattach me to my body?"

"Never in a million years."

"Then come back in a million years. There's nothing I can do for you until then." Bill dragged Mabel's zodiac blanket back over himself. "So sorry. Go to sleep. Leave me alone."

Dipper bet Bill could do it and was only saying he couldn't to try to trick Dipper into helping him. But he lay back down—clutching his bat again—and shut his eyes.

After a moment, Bill asked, "Where's Mabel? Sleepover?"

"Sofa bed in the living room."

"Right."

And then there was silence.

Several minutes passed. Dipper nearly fell back asleep. He heard Bill climbing out of bed and creeping across the room; but the footsteps didn't approach Dipper's bed, so he didn't open his eyes.

A few minutes after that, Dipper heard him come back, walking more heavily. He cracked open an eye to see what Bill was up to.

He was carrying Mabel, who was still asleep; his arms were trembling from her weight, but even at that Dipper hadn't known Bill was that strong. With a quiet grunt, he set her on her bed, then haphazardly tossed her sheet and zodiac blanket over her. He picked up his top hat from the bed and put it on; and then he wandered off, footsteps quiet as a ghost, and Dipper heard the creak of the door as he left the bedroom.

That was a lot nicer than Dipper had expected from Bill. Maybe he did care about Mabel in his own way.

Mabel rolled over and latched on to one of her dolls. Dipper shut his eye and fell back asleep.

####

(My favorite part of writing this was Bill dreaming about Sev'ral Timez saying the most absurdly flowery things imaginable. Anyway, let me know what y'all think about this week's chapter! And reminder that I MIGHT skip next week or the week after because the next couple chapters need heavier editing than usual.)

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - nsfw, LOTS of fingering, overstimulation, gojo being mean, geto being touchy, and threesomes.

thinkin' about gojo and geto and their big, stupid hands today.

gojo's never missed a manicure. his nails are a pretty pale pink color and filed to perfection (plus the occasional layer of clear topcoat, if he knew he won't have a mission for a while). his fingers are thin and long enough to hit the back of your throat when he shoves them sloppily past your lips 'cause he got distracted while you were talking about your day. thanks to his infinity, he doesn't have any prominent scars, and i just know he's got a closet full of those scented, expensive moisturizers. it's clearly more than any one person could ever use, but he's still gonna ask for a kiss in exchange if you ever ask to borrow one.

geto, on the other hand, is a little rougher around the edges. his fingers are short (compared to gojo's, at least), blunt, and so thick that you'll struggle to take more than two no matter how many times you've already come undone on his tongue. his palms are scarred and calloused from so many years of handling curses, and he likes to keep a hand either on your thigh or cupping the nape of your neck, his thumb idly rubbing circles into the tender patch above your spine. he's contact heavy - prone to squishing your cheeks or squeezing your ass whenever his mind starts to wonder and he needs something to do with his hands. you can scold him for it, but it don't keep him away for very long. he can't keep his hands off of you, and you're going to have the bruises to prove it.

gojo likes to keep his long, pretty fingers wrapped around your neck, keeping you pinned to his chest while four of geto's thick, calloused digits bully your poor hole, his tongue occasionally peeking out to lap up your excess arousal. he's just a little too harsh with you, each flick and twist of his wrist brutal and sudden, and gojo mocks your little, pitiful, pitchy noises. when you try to shut yourself up, all he has to do is pry your mouth open and slot his thumb against your tongue, maybe stealing a kiss or two while you struggle to whimper and moan. his middle and ring fingers circle around your stiff nipples, occasionally pinching and pulling just to see your back arch and feel your body squirm against his. geto's free hand is clamped stiffly over your hip, keeping you immobile as his pace picks up and his rough fingers curl inside of you, as he brushes against something soft and sensitize inside of you and oh, now you're cumming around his fingers, gojo's grin growing that much wider as you moan unabashedly into his hand, his mouth. you only get a second to breathe before they switch places, gojo's finger soon splitting you open while geto's are thrust into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself on his skin.

they'll keep going until you pass out, but don't worry. you're in very good hands <3

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely! can i request sirius taking care of sick reader?? where he's really sweet like total fluff!!

have a good day/night!!

Hey gorgeous, thanks for requesting! Hope you have a good day/night as well <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 940 words

“Can I just say,” Sirius says, leaning against the bathroom wall, “that this is the grossest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s a testament to your hotness that I’m still attracted to you right now.” 

You laugh, and it makes a bit of water come out of your nose, splattering into the sink. Though the bathroom mirror is fogged up from the hot shower you’ve just sat in, you have an idea of what you look like right now, and you’re inclined to agree that it’s a miracle anyone could find you attractive like this. 

You’re wearing the same bathrobe you’ve been in all day plus a fabric headband to keep your half-damp, frizzy hair away from your face as you bend over the sink, trying to flush out your sinuses with salt water. Your face is flushed and dry, your lips chapped, and your nose turned an agitated color from tissue overuse. 

“Are you sure?” you ask Sirius, taking another tissue from the nearly empty box. “You could leave me, I wouldn’t blame you.” 

You blow your nose. It makes a gratifying, horrendous sound, and Sirius’ mouth pinches. 

“Charming,” he mutters, but moves closer to you. “No, I’m afraid I’m in for the long haul, sweetness. After I catch whatever it is you have, no one will have me anyway.” 

“A cold,” you remind him, wincing as you wipe your raw nose. 

“Sure.” You don’t turn around, but you can practically feel the uplifted eyebrow directed at your back. “You done with this part for now?” 

You hum, letting Sirius take you back to bed with a hand curled in the fuzzy material of your robe. For someone who gripes about how sick he’s going to get so often, he sure hasn’t been holding back on the physical contact this past week. He pushes you down onto your bed, settling in beside you. 

“I know it’s good for your snot or whatever,” he says, low enough you think he might be talking to himself, “but I don’t like you sitting in that hot shower when you’ve still got a fever. I’m freaked you’re gonna pass out on the bathroom floor, and we both know my reaction time isn’t quick enough to keep you from cracking your head on the tile.” 

“I’m not gonna pass out,” you sigh, though you do let your eyes slip closed, succumbing to the exhaustion that seems to find you every time you stop moving since you’ve been sick. 

“Mm,” Sirius hums discontentedly. You hear him twisting the cap off of something, and when you open your eyes he’s reaching for your face. You stay perfectly still as he cups your cheek in one hand to steady himself, using the other to smear vaseline onto your chapped nose. 

You sniffle. “I could do this myself,” you say quietly. 

“Obviously,” Sirius murmurs, “but I haven’t been much help, so let me have something to feel like I’m contributing, okay? I promise I’ll ask you to do tons more when it’s my turn to lay around.” 

“You made me soup.” 

“That was a box mix, babe. When I’m sick, I’m going to want chicken noodle made from scratch.” 

You want to point out that chicken noodle soup isn’t all that difficult to make, but you stay quiet. 

You wonder if Sirius can feel your heartbeat with his pinkie tucked under your jaw like this, if you’re giving yourself away. It’s always nerve-wracking having someone this beautiful look at you, worse when you know you’re not exactly at your most winsome yourself. But Sirius’ touch is nothing short of adoring as he soothes the cold jelly onto the burning parts of your nose. He’s looking at you with a tenderness you wouldn’t have been able to picture when you first met him and yet suits him perfectly, gray eyes gone soft and quiet like the sky after a storm. 

They flicker up to you, catching something in your own expression. “What’s wrong?” 

What’s wrong is the unbelievable fondness of his thumb as it coasts down your cheek, the way he blows lightly on your freshly moisturized skin once he’s done with the vaseline, cooling it. The gesture is half teasing and half sincere, evidence of a thoughtfulness he doesn’t often show and almost never admits to. You think that if you were to tell James the other boy would probably bug your room with cameras to try and catch it on film. 

Sirius brushes a piece of hair behind his ear. “Does something else hurt, baby?” 

“My eyes,” you whisper, pressing your fingertips to the skin underneath your eyes to show him. You can actually feel your sinuses crackling when you apply pressure. “They sort of ache.” 

He makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, stroking your cheek and bending to press a kiss to your forehead. “Be right back,” he promises you. 

You close your eyes as he goes into the bathroom. There’s not much point in keeping them open when your boyfriend’s not here to admire. You hear cabinet doors opening, the faucet running, and then your mattress dips again. 

“Keep your eyes closed,” Sirius murmurs, settling a warm rag over your eyes. 

You sigh, the relief is so instant, and you hear him chuckle quietly. 

“God, I love you,” you say. 

“That feels rather conditional,” he replies. “Would you love anyone who warmed up rags for you and made soup out of a box?” 

“I think the real question is, could I love someone who I say ‘I love you’ to and they don’t say it back?” 

“Fickle.” Soft lips press to your cheek. “Love you, sweetheart.” 

[alottiegoingon]

hc! married life

lucy maclean x fem!reader

summary: meeting lucy + being married to her

warnings: lucy is a dork, established relationship, its 2296-2300ish, it takes place after fallout finale and things get better after it, nothing but fluff and a married couple doing cute shit, no nsfw but mentions of it, quick cannibalism mentions (uh…), wasteland and life outside the vault brief mentions, reader wasn't born in the vault, not proofread, silly plot

when you first met lucy, you found her in the old antique store. you were talking to the not so nice lady that owned the place when you saw her step inside with an inquisitive gaze, observing a bunch of what it looked like junk to you. it was almost hilarious seeing a young woman wearing that goofy ass blue and yellow jumpsuit.

you were leaning against the wall in the corner, listening to all of her chattering about vault-tec. it sounded like nothing but utterly tedious

"it would be safe to assume that you do business with criminals. not judging you. don’t imagine there’s that many other options up here." blissfully unaware of the death stare coming from that lady, she boldly muttered and it immediately made you step out of the corner you were hiding in to save her

"she doesn't mean that! she's new here, sorry." you jump in, forced to intervene, touching lucy's shoulder and giving them a light squeeze. she furrowed her brows in response with your disapproving glance. “wha- who are you? i was just talking about the equipments!”

pulling her away from the place, you hear the hoarse voice behind you saying "fucking vault dweellers."

it didn't take longer than a day for you two to be friends. sharing stupid stories from her vault, fun facts, and learning about each other's life and family was one of the things that you bonded over

while you two were outside once, walking together by the wrecked lanes of what los angeles used to be, and lucy began to talk about her life in the vault and you were more than impressed and in disbelief of how naive vault dweellers could be

"wait, what do you mean?" your face twists at the second you heard lucy saying that the guy she married was an outsider that was responsible for killing half of her vault. "how can you married someone you've never met?"

"well, you see, when you marry someone from another vault, usually it comes with benefits! we gave them seeds and parts for machinery and they offered us a breeder!" lucy explains it all like the good teacher she is, assertively nodding with shoulders back

you forced yourself to repress a laugh by looking the other way, and she immediately noticed and questioned you incredulously but you knew her too well already to notice that she wasn't mad. "what is it?!"

"you people marry strangers for seeds and to have kids? that sounds... miserable. what if they are awful people or outsiders like that guy?"

"okay, when you say it like that..." she loses her shoulders, brushing her confidence away, gulping and chuckling awkwardly. "but you are an outsider. and you aren't that bad."

"careful there. it makes you sound like you are very found of the outsider here, lucy maclean." you stare back at her and see a tender smirk peeking onto her lips. her body slightly leaning against yours, and a soft gaze that swiftly averted when you caught her. she didn't deny it though, you thought

it took her one kiss to invite you to live with her after your mission was done and you gladly accepted.

the invitation was up even after all the truth about her dad. after all the traumatic experience, on the way to your new home, you never left her alone not even for a second. you were always holding hands, sharing glances, leaning against each other and making her giggle as you were losing the track of how many times you kissed her face

in the vault, after everything was settled, you had all the time in the world to take care of her and learn about each other. you would spend hours running your fingers through her hair, listening to whatever she said and playing with her fingers while holding her hand. you would let her talk about all the memories with her family and carefully laugh along or comfort her when needed

you knew that you couldn't erase her bad memories from what had happened but you could create new ones and you focused on that

it was about time when she proposed to you, stuttering, crying and using a bunch of silly expressions like "holy moly" or "jeepers creepers"??!

don't get me started on the honeymoon. yes, you were living in a giant metal capsule but you could swear that as soon as you left the room after days, you were able to breathe fresh air.

lucy wasn’t exactly the easiest person to appease. especially not after finally seeing through the entire “breed” thing that everyone in the vault worshipped so much and experiencing what actually love could be. turns out that sex isn’t something people do just to have kids and “recolonize” the earth, after all

strongly believe that she would be such a loud and whiny girl when you touch her. even the slightest graze would make her legs tremble and she would go like 🥺

"wanna cook together?" "wanna go gardening?" "wanna watch a movie?" "hi, princess, wanna read something together?" "teach me your repair skills?" and her answer would always be "okey dokey" and a huge smile

your favorite part about gardening was to plant food and use it for dinner as you cooked together. and by that, it meant that you would cook while she was happily seating following you around with a cooking book giving you orders like a princess

in other times, you were proud to distract her on purpose by hugging her waist from behind, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. reasonable to assume that the entire room would smell like smoke as she cried at the sight of you on her knees and between her legs, eating her out

when it came to help around the vault, you were a great teacher along with your wife, making sure that all the facts were correct but in a less traumatizing way in order to not scare all the kids with “yeah, so basically all my family got killed by explosions but, hey, i’m here now!”

after a long day, watching movies was your favorite thing to do. one night, when discussing all the different genres of movies that lucy had never seen, you mentioned a specific one

“you know, my grandma used to tell me about this really weird show from the 2020’s where some creepy teenage girls ate each other after crashing into the wilderness.” and lucy’s face goes pale, looking like 😦

“golly gee… i hate it up there.”

[thetypingpup]

I see glasses on a guy and I think he's the type to fuck you stupid, braincells falling out of your head, losing your marbles in real time, and he kisses your temple and coos to you all sweetly like "I know baby, I know" while you're babbling barely coherent barely breathing let alone speaking, just going through the most intense pleasure you've ever felt while he effortlessly keeps up a steady pace and holds you in place.

Just the type to be like "that's it baby, there you go. Just let go for me. Let go and take it, pretty girl. Just a little more for me." Just absolutely fucking railing you while stroking your hair and anchoring you with affection.

Imagine this with Seonghwa, his dark eyes staring down at you behind his glasses, while he hums to you in his deep voice, "There you go baby, take this cock. Aww, what's wrong? Can't talk? Oh, well I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that pretty girl?"

"I know it feels good, I know it does baby." Seonghwa murmurs with a smile that's equal parts endearing and arrogant, so self satisfied and absolutely reveling in your wanton reactions. He loves the way you writhe beneath him, how your body twists and jerks in response to the pleasure he gives you, how a particularly deep thrust can make you arch off the desk and claw at the hard wood with scrambling hands.

Fuck he loves doing this with you. He can never get enough of you, the way you ripple around his cock and envelop him in your silken heat, how you get so wet that your juices completely soak his cock and spill onto both of your thighs, how fucking pretty you look taking his cock like this. He loves to witness the sight of your braincells leaving in real time, your eyes clouding over and growing hazy and unfocused before the effort to keep them open becomes too much and you slide them closed. He loves to watch you fall apart for him, so much so it's almost hard to concentrate on fucking you and making you feel even more overwhelming pleasure. Almost. His pride and his lust collide to form his absolutely ardent want for you, a craving that leads him between your legs over and over again.

"Think you can take me deeper, baby?" You hear through your haze of lust and desire. You're barely aware of the sounds you're making, barely able to feel the sharp puffs of air that surely indicate you're making some sort of noise. All you feel is his cock delving into you over and over again and the resulting bursts of pleasure, and his hand stroking the side of your face, his thumb resting right on your cheek and his palm cradling your jaw. You turn your head into his hand, your legs starting to get tired from the effort of keeping them open. He notices this, his other hand clutching your inner thigh to keep your legs spread for him. He starts thrusting deeper, stars dancing at the edge of your vision as you whine in bliss, panting raggedly.

"There you go, pretty girl. I knew you could take it." He whispers his praise against your sweat covered brow, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The tenderness melts into an newfound wave of immense pleasure as he grinds his cock deep inside you, stimulating multiple points of pleasure with every roll of his hips. You're practically sobbing now, gasping out sharp whines as your hips twist and jerk against him, only to be held in place by his strong grasp.

His lips make their way down your temple, down the side of your face, down the side of your neck, in the form of slow, methodical kisses, languid enough to let the heat of each kiss seep into your skin. He hums to you the whole time, grinding into you, just enjoying your pussy, "Mmm, you feel so good, baby. I could fuck you like this all day. Just keep you wrapped around my cock. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

And you nod, because even though you're overwhelmed to the point of tears welling up in your eyes, you've never felt more pleasure than when he fucks you like this.

Something about guys in glasses who know exactly what they're doing makes the brain go brr 🥶

[xhoneygirlxx]

Watermelon Sugar

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

summary: Eddie shows you the eight wonder of the world. his mouth.

warnings: reader and eddie are 18+, established relationship, fluff, Eddie being a munch. nicknames/pet names used (baby, honey, sweetheart, etc.) MINORS DNI 18+ smut: fem oral receiving, blowjobs mentioned, talks of past sexual experiences, praise/body worship, swearing. *Skin Color/Ethnicity not mentioned! not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing.

if I miss anything plz lmk!

a/n: hello my loves! thank you all for the kind words and reactions on my last couple of posts! as you all know smut is not my forte but I felt the need to write this. am I projecting??? maybe but we’re gonna pretend that i'm not :)

The low hum of Steve Nicks’ voice plays through Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of your makeout session with your boyfriend. Orange glow from the late afternoon sun comes through the window, an angelic glow casting around the frizz of the mentalhead’s hair.

It started as an innocent day, hanging out together in a comfortable silence in his room. Him doodling in his notebook and you flipping through one of his old comic books. Somewhere along the way a featherlight touch turned into shared giggles, sitting in his lap turned into a chaste kiss, and it ended up with him in between your parted knees, kissing like his life depended on it.

A curtain of curls block out the skylight, tender lips on yours like melted honey, and big hands roaming down the expanse of your body. When Eddie moves away from your mouth, he takes the oxygen from your lungs with him and you whimper at the loss.

"Gonna let me have a taste of you, pretty girl?" Big doe eyes shine down to you, way too eager and excited. Your stomach twists into knots, the training you put yourself through in case of this moment, has all been for nothing. What do you say to the man that hovers over you with so much love in his eyes?

"How about I suck you off instead, hmm?" You try to come off as sensual but instead you sound scared.

It's an offer that you've made so many times over the short course of your relationship with Eddie. This was your first real relationship besides the eight grade love affair you had with Simon Willard. That only lasted a week.

You weren't anywhere near a virgin, that so called sacred part of yourself is now in the possession of a random boy you met on vacation before your senior year. Hookups weren't uncommon to you but what was uncommon to you was the affection you received during the sex.

People you've hooked up with never really cared to get you nice and ready the way Eddie does, prepping you with two or more fingers, working you open so that it doesn't hurt going in. Guys didn't care if you got off or not, they were just looking for a hole to fill and someone who wouldn't get clingy.

You had guy friends, including Eddie before you started dating, and you heard the horror stories they had of going down on a girl. It was never in mean spirit, although the discussion should've stayed in the bedroom, but it still scared you shitless. How one girl didn't properly take care of herself, causing the smell to be rancid. This girl didn't wipe the right way, leaving scraps of toilet paper down there. And the one that really settled itself into your brain, was how good or bad a girl tasted.

Of course you, and all of your guy friends, knew that girls didn't taste like ice cream, or strawberries, or candy. It was made up, another bullshit beauty standard for woman to worry about.

You had paid attention to the way guys would ask you if you wanted it done. The way they would sigh and roll their eyes like it was the biggest task of their lives. You would end up telling them that you're more of a giver than receiver, and that you just weren't interested in that whole thing. When they would release a breath of relief you would fill with shame, almost like you were the one who requested it to be done and had been turned down. The embarrassment of rejection you didn't even ask for.

So when you and Eddie first had sex as boyfriend and girlfriend, you made it your mission to never let that horrid question come from his mouth. You always made sure to offer him head first, and if it looked like he was about to ask, you'd simply tell him you couldn't wait anymore.

Now here you are, under him, ready and willing to take him in your mouth, and he's gotten the question out before you could beat him to the punch.

"Ya know I will never say no to that, sweetheart. But-"

Uh oh. That's the word that comes before a life or death sentence. It's hanging heavy over you, the once comfortable silence is now killing you. Squeezing all of the air out of your body, limbs going numb with the loss of circulation, all the while your ears ring like an explosion has gone off.

"I want to return the favor." It's so sincere when he says it and it makes you want to cry. A boyish smile taking over his mouth, deep dimples appearing on the fat of his cheeks.

You must look like you've seen a ghost because the pretty smile that was written on his face is now taken over by worry.

"I mean, I don't have to. It's just- I feel like," Eddie's a panicked mess, backing his face further away from your own. The small bubble of love that the two of you created has now been popped with your own doubts and fears.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I just thought I could make you feel good s'all." The confident man that you know all too well is now reduced to a fumbling and anxious person. His fingers work at the chunky silver ring on his finger, twisting and twisting and twisting it around.

"You just always, I don't know. It just always seems like you never ask for head and I just wanted to offer it to you, I guess."

The whiskey eyes that never left your gaze won't even look at you anymore. Focusing on that damn ring that goes faster and faster the longer you wait to respond. You want to run and hide. Dig a deep hole and never come out. Your lovely boyfriend who's done nothing but treat you like the queen of the goddamn universe, now thinks he's made you uncomfortable.

Embarrassment rushes through your veins, throat closing with the grip of shame making it harder to breathe. Tears prick your eyes, hot and heavy, ready to fall at the drop of a dime. You feel so guilty for not just telling him the truth, for not saying all the concerns that you had. Even before you started dating Eddie always confided in you, telling you the deepest secrets that kept him up at night and you couldn't even tell him this one thing.

"I'm embarrassed." It comes out in a sniffle, lip wobbling beneath the teeth that hold it down, trying to make it go away.

"I'm just embarrassed I won't be good. That I'll be another conversation for you and the boys to drink to. Will I taste good? Do I smell weird? Does it look pretty? All of these questions circle my brain and I'm so fucking scared that you won't like me anymore." It comes out like word vomit, so fast and uneven in tone that you're not sure if it even made sense.

You don't have time to think it over anyway, Eddie's too quick putting his hands on your cheeks, gently making you look up at him. The same kind eyes that you always see meet yours. Thumbs gentle swipe the fat tears off of your face, his cold hands extinguish the flames of your skin.

"Honey, I promise you I would never, ever do some dumb shit like that. What the guys and I talk about is irrelevant, half the time they don't even know what they're talking about. I felt the same way when you wanted to suck me off the first time, every single question you ask yourself is what I ask myself." Eddie's eyes are searching yours, looking and waiting to see the dread leave your head.

"Like I said before, I would never want you to be uncomfortable but if you're okay with it, I'd really," He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, "really," he continues to place more delicate kisses around your face, "really love to make you feel so fucking good."

When he's done, he looks back down to you with a dopey smile, he's low and hazy drunk off of you. A smile tugs on your own lips, so warm and fuzzy off of him. You know he means it and you feel sad that you even questioned him. Childish laughter rings out between the two of you when he pinches your sides, tickling out the stiffness in your body.

When the laughter dies down, he asks you again by cocking his eyebrow up in question. Nodding your head, you give him a confident yes, something you didn't feel the first time he asked.

Moving down your body, trails of kisses are left on your skin, mapping out his journey to your center. When he reaches the hem of your pants, he looks up to you once more waiting for a reply. Encouraging him to go further, his chilled fingers douses the warmth radiating off of you.

Leaving you only in your polka dot designed panties, Eddie teases you by running his fingers up and down your thighs.

"I gotta say bub, I love the pink dots. Top notch fashion if I don't say so myself." Eddie jokes and it makes you giggle. Swatting lightly at him, he returns the laughter.

"I'm not lying, I swear! If only you know what you do to me." As much of a joker Eddie is, he was never one to joke about your beauty. He found everything you did, said, and wore so fucking breathtaking and flawless, he'd probably get hard from the sight of you in a Tin Man costume.

"If you, at any time, want me to stop just tell me. I won't get mad, just let me know, okay?" Eyebrows scrunched with seriousness, Eddie makes sure to be loud and clear with his instructions.

"I promise, Eds." You say and he takes that as the green light.

Eddie's index finger teases your cloth slit, running up and down so slowly it feels like torture. When you lift your hips looking for more friction he snorts lightly.

"Patience, my love." His fingers continue to dance over your panties, running back to the top of the band and pulling them down in a swift motion.

When the cool air hits your wet seat, you whimper slightly at the feeling. Eddie has seen your pussy multiple times, but when he spreads it with his fingers, you can't help but feel shy, closing your legs around his arm.

"Don't go shy on me, baby. I just wanna see the prettiest picture I've ever seen." His eyes are still trained on the glistening of your sex, glimmering like bright pools of water.

It feels like an hour of no movement from Eddie before he goes to change his position between your legs. Shuffling back on his knees, he picks your thighs up to place on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach.

Still having doubts, you lean up on your elbows, watching your boyfriend to see what his reaction is. To your surprise, he looks like a kid in a candy store, awe and wonder swimming around in the big brown pools of his eyes.

When an obscene sniff rings through the air, you can't help but cringe a little. Waiting for him to look repulsed, you're again astonished when all your met with is a feral look.

Very tentatively, he runs his flat tongue from your hole to the top of your clit. Moaning deeply, he moves his gave up to you. A smirk breaks out on his features, so devilishly and mischievously.

"Oh baby, you have no fucking clue how good you taste." There is no questioning in his cadence. It's smug and cocky and it makes you shiver with need.

Repeating his motions from before, you mewl at the feeling, lifting your hips again. The chuckle that comes from Eddie vibrates off of you, make you move you squirm. Reaching his strong hands around your thighs, he holds you in place with his firm grip.

When the wet muscle breaches your needy hole, you fall back onto the bed moaning out in pleasure. He works your open with it, flicking it in and out efficiently.

Pulling out of you, he moves up to your bundle of nerves. Starting slowly, he circles around once or twice, before working it in figure eights.

You melt into the bed like a popsicle on a hot summers day. There's not a single thought in your head other than the feeling of his mouth. You're a livewire come to life, so sensitive and lost in the haze of pleasure.

You think this is the precipice of ecstasy but then one of his thick fingers enter you and his mouth sucks hard on your pulsing clit.

It feels like fireworks on the fourth of July, bright and explosive, big loud bangs ringing out into the night sky. It's like the feeling of going down the big drop on a rollercoaster, tingling deep in your belly and a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. It's like winning first place, heartwarming and shocking all at the same time.

You feel all these things at the same time, every single one of them caused by the actions of your boyfriends mouth. It's overwhelming and so fucking delicious but you can't say anything than cry out in bliss.

Letting go of your clit with a pop, Eddie's head pokes up at you like an excited puppy. "S'it feel good baby?" You want to answer, you really do but the way he sneaks a second finger into you and crooks them at the perfect angle makes you lose all motor skills.

"Awe, honey" he coos mockingly, "Is it that good?"

"S'good Eds, so good." You're a blubbering, crying mess. So hooked on the feeling of him, hooking on the feeling of how he made you feel.

He doesn't say anything else, too busy pushing his face back between your legs. His motions go faster, fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of you that he only managed to find, his mouth switching between motions, driving you closer to the edge as he does.

The string in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter, barley hanging together by a thread. You're a thrashing, sweaty mess on his bed, gripping the pillow underneath your head that your knuckles will probably be stuck in that position. You don't care, not when he's moving his head back and forth, slurping up your wetness like a handmade milkshake.

It's filthy, down right dirty the way it sounds. The noises that carry out into his room echo so loud the neighbors could probably hear. The squelch of your wetness being pounded into by his hand, the way he's drinking you up like a dehydrated plant, the moans that escape out of your parted lips.

"Eddie, please. FUCK, please." You're blathering at him, not even sure at what you're asking for.

Separating himself from you again, he continues working his fingers deep into you.

"You wanna cum, pretty girl? S'that it? Wanna cum all over my fingers?" You moan louder in response, clenching around him harder as you do.

"Go ahead, be a good good and cum for me. Come on, honey. Cum for me." That's all you need to hear before you're hurtling off the edge of your release.

You release with a silent cry, all the air being punched right out of you. Your body feels weightless, like you were thrown up into the clouds and not being able to come down.

Your whole body shakes, tears streaming down your face, all while your hole pulses and quivers around Eddie's fingers. A gush of wetness coats his fingers, a big puddle under your ass, leaving another stain on his bed seats.

He watches in awe as you hit your peak, how your back arches off of the bed and how you look so fucking perfect like this. The shy girl that never got experience this kind joy, now swims in the ocean of euphoria of the climax. He feels so lucky to witness this, to be the first and last person to ever see you this vulnerable.

Eddie wishes he could paint this moment, make a portrait of the way your kiss bitten lips form the perfect O, make the brushstrokes of your hair and some of it sticks to your sweaty face. You're so beautiful and he doesn't know how blessed to be yours.

When you float back down to earth, to the springy mattress of Eddie's, you take a moment to catch your breath. When he removes his fingers from you, you weakly hiss from movement and he offers a quiet sorry.

Moving back up to his knees, he hovers over you and smiles brightly down at you. Smiling weakly back at you, he uses the hand that's not supporting his weight to place it on your jaw. His thumb brushes back and forth and you melt right into it.

"How was that?" Pink tints his cheeks, grinning ear to ear.

You chuckle weakly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I think I went to outer space for a second there."

A booming laugh leaves his chest and it makes you smile even harder. Your heart feels so full and so happy. You're so in love with him and it makes you delirious. You want to see him like this for the rest of your life, big smiles and even big laughter, so pretty and delicate only for you.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself there, space cadet." Leaning down to press his lips to yours, your soak in the feeling of it. When he moves away you pout at him, and he bops you on the nose with his finger.

"I was thinkin' I could return the favor, big boy." You whisper seductively.

"Oh baby, that sounds wonderful but-," He makes eye contact with you, "I need to be in you like yesterday because that, right there was the hottest thing I've ever witness."

"I happen to be a romantic. So I shall wait until my fair maiden is okay to resume our activities." Closing his eyes with pride, he places a hand on his heart.

Hiding your face with your hands, you bust out laughing at his little antics and when you peek between his fingers you see his teeth flashing back at you. Removing your hands from your face, you tuck a loose tendril behind his ear.

"You're a dork, but that sounds good to me."

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Thank you all for reading! I loves you all and hope you enjoyed!!!

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[tubatwo]

txt reaction: random kisses

summary: in which you miss your boyfriend so much you can’t help but kiss him!

pairing: reader x ot5

genre: fluff; 1.7k total

a/n: trying something new! I probably won’t do these too often because I have been overthinking each prompt for months! let me know if you prefer short or long stories for these! beomgyu’s is already longer lmao im having a bamtori moment ><

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yeonjun - when he’s busy

between group schedules and inkigayo appearances, it seemed like the universe didn’t want you and your boyfriend to have a moment together. of course you understood. he’s a busy idol after all, but it still didn’t make it hurt less. but one thing that yeonjun always told you is that the offer to visit him was always open, no matter how guilty you felt about it. and today just seemed like one of those days where you might actually take that offer.

after talking things through with the boys’ manager and getting a staff member to guide you, you arrive at the inkigayo filming area. it was strange to see how small the interview set was in real life, especially because everyone seemed to think it was an actual room!

you politely squeeze past a few people to get a better look at your boyfriend in action. you can’t help but smile at his cute mannerisms, charisma, and how everyone in the room seems to adore him. after a while, one of the staff members taps you on the shoulder and asks if you would like to move to his dressing room. you agree and wait patiently. 

the sound of the door opening interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to see your boyfriend with a shocked look on his face. “baby? you came?!” he exclaims excitedly. you smile warmly and run up to give him a sweet kiss that just so happens to be long overdue. yeonjun giggles as you deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck. “mmph– I hate to interrupt, but what made you decide to finally come?” he pulls away, slightly flustered at how eager you are (but in a good way). 

“i’m sorry!” you whine, burying your head in his chest. “I missed you so much, and I’m sorry if this is a bad time–” yeonjun cuts you off by lifting your chin and placing another kiss on your lips.

“never a bad time, baby.” he shakes his head. “I’ve missed you so much, and I know things have been hectic lately…” you smile sadly and nod in agreeance. “but! i’m going to make it up to you this weekend, ‘kay? they just told us we have some free time.”

your eyes light up, and you hug your boyfriend tightly.

“I love you, yeonjun, thank you.”

“anything for you, baby.” 

soobin - when he’s sleeping too cutely 

you watch as your boyfriend’s chest rises up and down, letting out small puffs of air. you smile softly at how peaceful he looks, knowing full well how busy promotions have been lately. sometimes your boyfriend looked the most beautiful when he was sleeping. the one time when his mind wasn’t full of worries, and his shoulders no longer held the burdens of others. 

you quietly giggle as you scan over his body laying in a position that you just can’t seem to wrap your brain around. why is his leg twisted that way? you try your absolute hardest to keep your laughs to yourself. he needs his rest, but he just looks adorable… aaand you kinda miss him an abnormal amount. maybe it would be best for him to move anyway. he wouldn’t mind, right?  whatever happens, please forgive me. this is your fault for being too damn cute.

unable to resist your cuteness aggression, you lean down closer to his face and place a tender kiss on his cheek. then another. and another. and finally he shuffles. “mmm… y/n?” he murmurs sleepily. you bring your hand to his cheek to rub it softly. “hi baby, i’m sorry for waking you..” you whisper.

soobin pulls you close, copying your previous actions by kissing your cheek too. “s’ okay, i’ve missed you too.” 

wait what?

“ you… miss me too?” you echo. your boyfriend nods his head, shutting his eyes again as if nothing happened. “how did you know I was thinking that?” he lets out a snort at this. “because I love you, and I also know you like the back of my hand.” before you could even respond or complain, soobin leans in to kiss you deeply, making you sigh and melt into his arms. as you pull away, you quietly chuckle and tap the side of his arm.

“let’s head to bed, my love.”

beomgyu - when he’s playing video games

you could hear the echoes of your boyfriend’s yells from the other room. the two of you had spent the afternoon together visiting a local record shop and decided to spend the rest of the day relaxing at home. after watching a movie, you inevitably went your separate ways to do your own things.

however, you eventually got bored. there were only so many tiktoks you could scroll through without feeling drained. so, feeling curiosity take over you, you sneak back into your shared room, peeking at the back of your boyfriend’s round head. you watch him silently, waiting for his team to capture the objective. you had watched him play enough times to know when it was coming to an end.

“ah shit! that was a good game.” he says into the mic as the winning sign takes over the screen, then he queues into another game. as you tip toe closer to him, the chatter of his friends start to louden as the sound leaks from his headphones. 

you wrap your arms around beomgyu’s neck, resting them on his chest as you place a kiss on his cheek.

“babe?” he flinches a little at your sudden movement. “hey, what’s up?” he cancels the queue, ignoring the commotion and confusion coming from his discord call. 

“nothing… I just missed you…” you smile against his neck, turning his head to kiss him properly. as you smack lips, beomgyu gets a little dizzy. he lets out a few groans and a few giggles, eventually pulling away to look up at you with his lips curling into his famous v-shape

“you want me to log off?” he asks shyly. 

a part of you wants to say yes, but you already spent so much time with him for the day. you knew that he’s been trying his best to rank up recently, and time was never really on his side. it was important that you allowed him to have fun with his hobbies as well. 

you shake your head, fingers playing with the hair that was soon growing to meet his shoulders. "no, it's okay. enjoy yourself! besides, I missed watching you play," you smile, eyes filled with affection. “that is… if it’s okay? can I?” 

beomgyu can’t help but smile. one of his many favorite things about you was that you didn’t mind him playing his favorite games, and you even liked to watch and cheer him on too. 

“c’mon my little lucky charm,” he chuckles, patting his lap enthusiastically while pulling you down by your waist. 

despite the sound of keyboard clicks and endless trash talking coming from both your boyfriend’s mouth and his headphones, you drift off to sleep, occasionally feeling his lips meet your forehead. 

taehyun - when he’s working out

it had been an hour or so since taehyun left a small kiss on your cheek, telling you that he was going to the home gym room. with schedules in the way, it was hard to him to do his proper workouts the way he wanted to. you knew this, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit clingy after the tiring day you had.

after tiptoeing over to the doorway, you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend facing the other way while lifting a set of weights. you sneakily tiptoe over to wrap your arms around his waist while nuzzling your head into his neck. 

"hey," he says, a mix of amusement and affection in his voice as his body vibrates with laughter. "i’m kinda in the middle of something here, darling.”

you giggle, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on his sweaty cheek. "I know but…” you begin, smile slowly fading away as you remember the way you were late for work. the way your boss looked at you in disappointment as you gave your presentation. “I missed you a lot, i’m sorry.” 

taehyun’s expression softens, and he sets aside his exercise equipment for a moment to hold you in his arms. "I missed you too," he replies, returning your affection with a passionate kiss, reminding each other that even in the busiest of times, your love was always a priority. “how about I finish up really quickly, and then we can go out somewhere together?”

you smile and nod. 

“now, I could use a liittle more motivation to finish this set."

huening kai - when he’s practicing the piano

you peek in through the door that kai often used to practice, the sight and sound of your boyfriend’s fingers dancing across the piano making you smile. he notices your presence and stops. “oh? hi princess!”

you ignore his words and walk over to the stool where he was seated. you cup his face in your hands and kiss him softly, making him sigh happily.

“mmph- sit.” he manages to let out through kisses. 

“huh?” 

“sit on my lap.” he smiles at you.

you chuckle softly, a blush coloring your cheeks as you comply with his request. you gently sit on his lap, arms circling around his neck while you continue to shower him with affectionate kisses. a piano bench isn’t the most comfortable for two people on top of each other, but in this moment, with kai’s fingers lingering on your waist, it was the most comfortable place in the world. 

“I missed you, y’know…” you confess quietly, pulling back to rest your forehead against his. kai chuckles and tilts his head in confusion. “I haven’t gone anywhere, though?”

“I know, silly! but sometimes, even when you’re here, I miss you,” you sheepishly try to explain your feelings, starting to feel a bit embarrassed, “sorry if it doesn’t make sense…” 

kai’s expression softens, and he holds you a little tighter. “no no, I understand! I feel that way too sometimes,”  

“can we stay like this for a while?” you ask. 

“of course, princess.”

[aceies-desiresxx]

・❥・ gotta love

↳ ❝ [LOVEBOMBING] ¡! ❞

warnings: mentions of extremely toxic relationships/ toxic behavior, reader giving + receiving. do not read if you are uncomfortable with this kind of content!!

main pairings include: genshin impact! disney twisted wonderland! and wuthering waves! men

thank you and enjoy.

☁️ ·̩͙✧ Love bombs you

the beginning of your relationship was perfect. how could it not be? sure he was a busy man, but he always had time for you, your ever worry and insecurity was tended to by a barrage of sickly sweet words and countless kisses that left burns in their place. whenever his work did take up a lot of his time, you'd find your shared room littered with gifts and flowers in his absence. dinners together were extra special, spending quiet evenings with the love of your life chatting about his busy day, though the details seem blurred and the conversation seems vague. but sometimes the details would blur further, and the conversating would get vaguer and vaguer and when you'd wake up the next morning he'd be gone. no text, no note, no good morning goodbye. and it wouldn't be until late last night you'd talk with him again. you'd ask where he'd been as it's been so late but you're only met with "work took longer than expected". by then dinner's cold and he isn't in the mood. he heads to his study for the rest of the night. his mood only seems to sour for the next few days seeming to distance himself further. whenever you confront him about it he only acts annoyed saying that you're overexaggerating and are just imagining things. you're crazy, and so unthankful for everything he does for you. everyday it seems like your lover is becoming more of a stranger, and any attempt at affection is futile. days will pass and he'll find you tear stained in your shared room. he'll walk up to you and engulfing you in his arms, pulling you close to his chest where he'll say that work has just been too stressful and he's been so busy. he's right, he's a busy man. it was selfish of you to not think of that. his sickly sweet words reappear along with those kisses that feel so hot against your skin, you swear it feels as if your skin is scorching and itching for you to get away, like a rash. but the longer he keeps at, the more you'll numb to the feeling, repeating the cycle. Every time your clarity dulls and you sink further and further from the truth and more into his grasp.

alhaitiam, ayato, diluc, kaeya, wriothesley (genshin) jade, floyd, jamil, leona, lilia, rook, malleus, vil (twst) jiyan, mortefi, scar (wuwa)+ your favs

☁️ ·̩͙✧ Knows what you're doing, can't do anything about it

god he knows what you're doing he knows. but he can't help it. your love feels so good, too good, he can't just stop. those tender moments of affection where you look at him as if he's the most precious thing in the world, and all your tender touches, and how you hold him in the early morning, he craves it. he knows it's unhealthy, that he should get away and end things, but all he can think about is you cupping his face and kissing his face whenever he confront you about it. he thinks that "maybe it makes up for it" and he isn't "too down bad". "if things go too far i can always leave". he tries to get back at you, choosing to ignore you too and attempt to distance himself for days on end, only to end up crawling back to you. he can't help it, your love feels too good. the anger he feels when you pretend nothing is different, and the way you'll spin it to make it seem like he's the bad guy, not respecting your boundaries and constantly expecting more from you, it makes him question himself. is he in the wrong? it's not your fault if you're tired sometimes, everyone has their days. he'll calm down and by the end of the week you'll be back to your lovey dovey self. when you do he's clinging to you, you brush it off with a chuckle but he's serious. he needs you. he’s terrified of when you’ll start to ignore him so he’s walking on eggshells around you, holding you closer each night needing to feel you flush against him. he makes you tell him you love him over and over again, he needs to hear it, he needs to know it’s worth it to stay with you. he falls himself going crazier with every time you distance yourself, did he go too far, was he too clingy, is there someone else in the picture? there couldn’t be, you told him you loved him just last night. you wouldn’t lie to your beloved right that, especially to his face during such an intimate moment. his love for you turns obsessive, why can’t you love him the way he loves you? he can feel himself needing you more and more everyday, growing far more reliant on you and your touch. your mood seems to determine his, and his reactions with others, you’re all he’ll ever need.

childe, gorou, kaveh, kazuha, lyney, scaramouche, tighnari, thoma (genshin) azul, cater, jamil, ruggie, sebek, trey (twst) aalto, jiyan (wuwa) + your favs

☁️ ·̩͙✧ Completely falls for it

you’re his lover, of course you’re perfect. he knows he can be a bit much so he always feels bad if he overwhelms you. no wonder you need space, he’s far too clingy. but that look in your eyes when you glare at him after he begs you to communicate with him, he can’t stand it. he pleads for your forgiveness, for you to talk to him to scream to yell, anything. just so he knows you still care. he loves you, and you love him. you just have a hard time with your emotions is all. you’re all he has all he needs, he’s sorry if he hasn’t proved it by now. he’ll buy you anything and everything you want, cook and clean to the best of his ability and offer massages and kisses till you cannot fathom them anymore. he’ll be the best boyfriend you could ask for just love him back. all you have to do is say those words, just pet his head or kiss his cheek and he’s yours. he promises to love no other and trusts your words fully. your degrading taunts when you’re in one of your moods hurt, but it only encourages him to be better for your sake. he’ll cry and punish himself for not being better. it was selfish of him to ask you to help out when you were already so busy and stressed from work. you already do so much and it’s hard enough loving him, you deserve a break. he misses your touch and affection so badly, he’ll willingly change everything about himself just so you’ll spare him a glacé again so you’ll hold him and coddle him how you used to. was he not cute enough? not lovable? too demanding? don’t worry he’ll fix it, you deserve it after all. all those nights where you were tangled togther under the covers, you’d rub his back softly while you whispered how much you loved him, he yearned for that. he needed that back. those kisses on the nose and those promises of eternal dedication, you both already decided you belonged to each other so he needs to step up and be the best that he can for you. he needs to be worth all of that love again, he needs to meet your standard so he can have his lover’s affection. and every so often you’ll toss him a bone, cuddles while watching his movie of choice, a picnic in the early evening with his favorite foods, lounging together on a family swing as he rambled about his day, god the love in his eyes when he looked at you. you’ve been so perfect. it’s his fault if the movie turned out bad, or the weather during the picnic ruined it, or if pesky bugs made the swing unbearable, it was understandable you’d be mad at him. of course you’d need some time to yourself and it was perfectly normal of you to lash out at him. you’ve done so much for him. but that doesn’t change the fact that he misses you. he’ll sit beside your closed bedroom door for hours silent, content by the fact that you were just on the other side of it, he’s fine with waiting, but if your tantrum goes on for a week or longer? he’s apologizing profusely, promising to never let that happen again. he’s sorry for ruining your mood just come back to him, you can pick the movie, the food, where he sits, whatever you need to be happy. after all, he just wants to be good for you.

baizhu, aged up! bennett, aged up! freminet, aged up! gaming (genshin) ace, deuce, jack, kalim, iida, riddle (twst) lingyang, yuanwu (wuwa) denji (csm) + your favs

thank you for reading! likes and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open so don’t be shy to summon forward your favorite demon 💜💜

[aris-ink]

Please. I beg you. A stepdad!Taehyung fic (with the luscious black swan hair that made me feel some things). I need it for…research purposes.

(by the way I love your writing, its so fucking good)

how can you do this to me 😩 tysm ILY angel

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!father au

warnings: allusions to corruption, manipulation, cheating, pseudo incest, masturbation, SO MUCH dirty talk, daddy kink, choking, dry humping, hints of breeding kink and size kink (tae is big, oops), some oral sex, hair pulling, praise kink, multiple orgasms, overuse of pet names (as always), this is... so filthy I'm sorry

edited.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. The soft gesture made you stir, your hazy mind slowly registering the solid warmth of his body.

"Hush, angel. It's just me."

There was a stutter in your chest, your eyelids fluttering open. You could feel his breath on your neck, a blanket of heat on your skin. Instead of finding comfort in his words, you tensed up.

This was the third night he has sneaked into your bed.

You knew his marriage with your mother has been rather... dull. He didn't seem half as invested in her life as he was in yours, and you chalked it up to the fact that Taehyung had always wanted children, so he treated you as his own.

What you didn't know, however, was that you were actually the only reason he started dating your mother in the first place. All you saw was that while they didn't seem too close, they were comfortable; your mother was busy pursuing her career anyway, most of her whims being funded by Taehyung himself. After all, the busier she was, the longer she was gone.

At first you thought he was just lonely. That he was happy to see your mother grow, and selflessly put his own needs aside in order to support her. That was why his hugs started getting more frequent. Why his hands lingered on your waist, on the small of your back. And in a way, you were right. Taehyung longed for affection; but only for yours.

Somewhere in the deepest corners of your mind, the realization was starting to emerge. It presented itself slowly, as a twist in your abdomen when you felt him pull the covers over your bodies.

It still didn't occur to you, however, that everything was the other way around. That this longing he felt was not the result of his choices, but rather the driving force behind them. Confusion muddled your thoughts as he held you. You always figured you grew to know Taehyung very well, and yet a part of him remained shrouded in the shadows, a mystery that made you feel like you were staring at a beautiful, antique painting. Like you couldn't quite figure out what was the message or the purpose behind it. But he was such a big part of your life; he has made a home in your heart, so sturdy that it seemed to become a part of the muscle, vines tangling through the windows all the way to your ribs.

Your lids were heavy with the weight of sleep, and his warmth was comforting. His arm remained wrapped around your waist, soft lips brushing against your shoulder. You shivered.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Go back to sleep, baby. I just wanted to hold you."

His grip on you tightened, his nose touching the nape of your neck.

"Long day?" You whispered back, your voice hoarse.

"Mhmm," Taehyung murmured. "Missed my baby."

His baby. The way he spoke to you made your heart flip. You blamed it on nervousness, because what else could it be? You tried to swallow. Every single night he entered your bedroom, he seemed to be getting more daring, shifting closer, his caresses bordering on intrusive. But they were so tender and felt so good. The smell of his aftershave was soothing and familiar. You wished you could drown yourself in the warmth he provided.

You didn't want to think about why.

He still kept a respective distance between your bodies, only letting his chest press into your back. You sighed softly, letting your eyes fall closed. For the last three nights, you have been so hyper aware of his presence that he usually ended up falling asleep first. By now, a little more used to his protective embrace, you were starting to consider just letting go.

And then he shuffled slightly behind you. You detected a movement that made your eyes snap open. It was subtle, but he was lying too close for you not to feel the way his free arm shifted and moved under the sheets.

And suddenly you were wondering just where his hand was, because it sure as hell wasn't anywhere on you.

Your stomach dropped as if you were falling, immediately pulling you wide awake. Your senses no longer dulled, you picked up on his shallow breathing, and it was like a bucket of ice cold water was spilled over your head. You stiffened, unable to help the hitch of your breath.

Your heart raced beneath your ribs, but Taehyung only tightened his arm around you.

"Everything okay?"

His tone was so casual, a quiet murmur laced with amusement. It had you questioning your sanity. Surely he wasn't...?

Your breath hitched again when he pressed himself closer to you. No, his hand was definitely moving in between your bodies. Slowly, but the movement was there. Heat rushed through you in a startling flood, dusting your cheeks, pooling in your abdomen.

You blinked into the darkness, trying to calmly breathe in and out through your nose.

He was not touching himself right beside you. No, that was not possible.

"Baby?" Taehyung questioned again, leaving a soft peck on your shoulder. He sounded even more amused, making your stomach clench. "Is something wrong?"

"...No," you answered in a weak whisper.

You didn't understand why. He was crossing a line, but you found yourself incapable of putting a stop to it.

At your reply, Taehyung stilled behind you. The hand that was resting on your stomach unhurriedly reached for your wrist. You held your breath, letting him guide it under the sheets, behind your back... and lower.

This was your last chance to move away. Why weren't you moving away? Why weren't you cursing him out and yanking your wrist out of his grasp?

You couldn't bring yourself to understand, and all your thoughts came to a standstill when he reached his destination and rested your fingertips on his bare cock.

It jumped in response, silky smooth and hot to the touch. That alone, followed by the realization that he did lower his briefs and palm himself right next to you made your cunt clench around nothing, a gush of wetness dampening your underwear.

He had to notice the change in your breathing. He had to notice the way your thighs clenched, too, because he grew bolder, guiding you to wrap your hand around him.

Once again, you let him. He was rock hard, practically throbbing in your grip. You experimentally gave his cock a squeeze, and almost startled at the low, obscene groan that fled his lips, right into your ear. His hips bucked into your hand.

It shouldn't have made you so wet, but it did. Your stomach kept on twisting, your clit pulsing and sticking to your underwear as you dragged your hand down the length of his cock, then back up again.

"Oh fuck..." he sighed quietly. "Don't stop, baby."

You weren't sure if this was your breaking point, or if it was the precum you felt leaking from the tip, but your head turned slightly in his direction. Taehyung didn't waste the opportunity, lifting himself up on one arm to grab your jaw and kiss you.

It was sloppy, needy, his tongue skilled and addicting, making the room spin in circles. You shifted onto your back to give him better access to your mouth, make it easier for yourself to touch him.

Taehyung groaned into the kiss. The sound vibrated through you, deep and sinful, shooting straight to your cunt.

He pulled away to stare down at your face, eyes hooded, lips parted and brows slightly tensed, high off the pleasure.

"Good girl," he whispered, his eyes falling shut, nose bumping against yours. "Fuck, that feels so good."

You shuddered under him.

"You're so- big," you stammered, your strokes firmer now, but slower too, feeling every vein.

Taehyung's mouth twitched, moving towards your ear.

"Yeah?" His voice dropped lower, the deep baritone making your hole twitch. "You like that?"

You whined, too flustered to answer him. It was impossible to push aside the fact that he was your stepfather, and you shouldn't be liking anything about this at all, let alone be participating in it so eagerly.

Taehyung didn't seem very happy with that, though. He scoffed, reaching out to touch the hem of your underwear.

"I know you're soaked and aching for me to stretch this little pussy out."

You dug your fingers into his arm, your back arching softly off the mattress.

"Taehyung-"

His name came out of your mouth in a low moan. He raised his eyebrows, wrapping his hand around your throat so tightly you froze, eyes wide as they stared up at him.

"Oh, so now I'm Taehyung? Don't play with me, baby," he tsked, choking you. "I've put you through college and taught you how to drive. I buy you all the expensive shit you want. Where is my good girl? Did you forget who I am?"

You could feel your face heat up rapidly, both from the delicious restriction of air and from his words. You shook your head, the movement so subtle it was barely noticeable, but it was enough for him. He released your neck, letting you take in a deep breath, his knuckles brushing across your cheek.

"That's better," he hummed. "Now say it, angel."

You opened your mouth, feeling him reach under the covers again to tighten your hand around his stiff cock. You went back to stroking him, wishing he wasn't staring into your eyes so intently, wishing he wasn't making you use a word you associated with affection in something so dirty, tainting it forever.

And most of all, wishing that it didn't make your pussy throb the way it did.

"Daddy," you whispered.

Taehyung groaned, his fingers sliding lower to press into your clothed clit.

"That's right, good girl- fuck, you're so wet. Oh god, baby."

You moaned quietly, desperate to feel more of his touch, encouraged by the way his fingers slipped under the soaked material to brush up against your folds.

"Daddy, daddy," you gasped, your hand tightening around his cock further, your pace unconsciously picking up.

Taehyung grunted, circling your clit sloppily, sending sparks of pleasure tingling through you.

"Good fucking girl. You want daddy's cock, don't you, baby? You want daddy's big cock to fuck you dumb, huh?"

Your thighs shuddered, parting for him, your hips lifting off the bed slightly.

"Yeah, please daddy," you breathed out, clutching his shirt. "Need to come. Please."

"Do you know how fucking hot- ah- you sound right now? How beautiful you are?"

Taehyung brushed your hair away from your face, his hot breath fanning over your lips.

"I've been waiting to split this pussy open for so long," he mumbled breathily. "Fuck my good, little girl nice and raw and pump her full of cum."

You cunt clenched needily, your heart beating out of your chest as he climbed on top of you. He pushed your underwear aside and slipped his cock in between your drenched folds without a warning, the flushed tip nudging your clit roughly.

"Please!"

You didn't care anymore about how wrong this was, or how pathetic you sounded. All you wanted was for him to bury himself inside you and stay there forever.

But Taehyung only clenched his teeth and continued to hump you, ensuring to put pressure on that little bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars.

"Can't fuck you tonight, baby," he huffed. "You'll wake the entire neighborhood, including your mother."

You whimpered, the sound strained, and it might have been the guilt or how close you were; but you felt too hot all of sudden. His cock rubbed against you so well, his balls slapping against your cunt lightly, heavy and full.

"Daddy's gonna-yeah - gonna come so hard," he moaned, his hand reaching up to grope your breast through your shirt harshly. "Fuck, come with me. Come on, baby. Cream my cock like a good girl."

He barely managed to finish the sentence before your orgasm hit you, your pussy spasming and gushing under him. Taehyung knocked his lips into yours to silence your moans, as well as his own when a hot rush of his cum flooded you, dripping down to your entrance. His cock twitched, his hips stuttering against you.

"Oh fuck," he cursed hoarsely, prompting himself up on his arms to look at the mess you've made together. His gaze burned into the white, thick ropes of his release trickling down your sensitive cunt. The enticing sight had his dick slowly rising and hardening again, his eyes dark as night as they snapped back to yours.

"Look," he breathed, pushing his hips forward to grind against you, pillowed in between your puffy lips. "Your pretty little cunt looks so good covered in my cum."

You moaned, your hips jerking under him. Taehyung caught the sound with his mouth once more, kissing you just as slowly as he moved.

"Need to keep this between us, baby," he whispered. "Not a word to your mother, yeah?"

This was the last thing you wanted to think about as your clit throbbed beneath him. You nodded quickly, trying to ignore the guilt of the thrill his words sent through you.

Taehyung caught your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling on it gently.

"Good girl. Want to come again?"

Your thighs clenched, an unsteady breath fleeing you instantly.

"Yes, please daddy."

Taehyung pushed himself up onto his knees to pull his shirt off. You swallowed, awestruck by his tanned, toned muscles. It wasn't often you got to see him like this, and combined with the sweat and the dark locks framing his handsome face, you couldn't help the fresh wetness that trickled from your already sticky cunt.

He took a seat, resting his back against the bedframe, his cock standing tall and hard against his stomach, glistening with his cum and yours. His hands tangled in your hair, gently tugging.

"Come here, baby."

Your stomach seemed to flip upside down. You lifted yourself up and got on your knees, like you already knew what to do without him having to tell you. He hummed, pleased.

"What a good girl. You gonna be quiet for me?"

You nodded, leaning forward to lower your head towards his cock, your mouth instinctively parting by the thick, swollen tip. Taehyung pulled on your hair, forcing your head up, the sting making your cunt quiver.

"We both have to be quiet, so don't do anything I don't tell you to. I won't warn you twice, sweetheart."

You licked your lips nervously.

"Okay."

Taehyung stroked your hair for a moment, before his hand began to slide towards your neck, then down your back towards your ass. He reached your cunt and pressed his finger into your clit right away, rubbing it softly. The direct contact made your knees feel weak, your breathing stuttering in its rhythm.

He placed his free hand on top of your head and lowered it back down. You parted your lips again, so close you could feel the heat coming off him. Then, releasing your soft hair, Taehyung wrapped his hand around his cock and proceeded to stroke it slowly.

"Lick the tip, baby."

The pulsing in your stomach intensified, your tongue sticking out to taste him as if you were hypnotized. At the first touch of it, Taehyung leaned his head back, a throaty rumble leaving his chest.

"You're such a good girl. Shit, suck- suck, ah, j-just the tip, angel, no more."

He pressed harder into your slippery clit, rewarding you before you even obeyed the command. You moaned softly, wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock and hollowing your cheeks to suck, too impatient for teasing.

"God," he groaned, "are you that desperate to be covered in daddy's cum? Or do you wanna get filled up instead, huh?"

You mewled, your fingers digging into his muscular thighs, the lewd sounds he made as he pumped himself faster mingling with the lewd words; and sending you tumbling towards an edge you've never experienced before.

"I can feel you dripping all over my fingers," he growled. "Don't you worry, angel, just wait until tomorrow. Daddy's gonna fill up this tiny cunt so much you'll be overflowing. Gonna get you knocked up, hm?"

Your knees almost gave out, your pussy twitching as another orgasm hit you, head falling helplessly into Taehyung's thigh. He steadied you carefully with a strong arm, continuing to stroke and massage your clit all the way through it. You whined into his skin, barely registering the praises falling from his mouth.

Until the high slowed.

Fucked out, you glanced up at him, catching your breath. He caressed your cheek, his cock in his hand again.

"Look at you," he said softly. "Such a good fucking girl. I have the best baby in the entire world."

You lifted your head tiredly, the drive to please him and live up to his expectations stronger than your shame. Besides, you wanted this; wanted to feel him come inside your mouth, hear him struggle to suppress his moans. You offered up your parted lips to him eagerly, sticking your tongue out. Taehyung's head hit the wall behind him with a dull bang.

"Oh shit," he hissed, "I love you so fucking much, baby."

Your heart twisted inside your chest. He pushed the tip of his cock inside your warm mouth, pumping the rest roughly with his hand.

"Gonna come," he groaned. "Fuck-"

The sudden rush of the thick heat on your tongue made you shudder, harsh, shaky breaths escaping his chest. You swallowed down everything he gave you, sucking softly as he twitched, pulling on your hair.

"Yeah, oh fuck, baby-"

His back arched, his eyes falling closed, thighs tensing and then slowly relaxing beneath you. You let him go with a pop, watching him breathe in and out deeply, his skin prickled with goosebumps.

He opened his eyes slowly, releasing your hair from his hold to grab your chin instead.

"Come here."

You let him pull you up, his lips warm and soft as they sank into yours. He kissed you hungrily, but with no hurry, like a lover afraid of parting, desperate to make every second last. When he pulled away, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, okay?"

You bit your lip, watching him fix up his briefs and put his shirt back on. To your surprise, he didn't leave the room until you fell asleep. He sat on the edge of your bed, stroking your hair in the dark and listening to your breathing even out.

He pressed his lips into your temple, sighing out a goodnight before making his way back to his bedroom. Your mother was still sound asleep, exhausted after working and socializing with her new elite friends. Taehyung rolled his eyes and slipped under the covers, aiming to drift off with nothing but you on his mind.

Just a little longer. Just a little longer and he could fall asleep and wake up by your side; all he ever dreamed of since the first time he saw you passing by. His wife was already climbing up the career ladder (with his help, of course), and soon she'd get an offer that he knew she would never be able to resist. She'd move halfway across the country and leave her precious, little girl and doting husband behind.

Oh well. He couldn't wait.

[bruisedboys]

remus lupin who is a little bossy when you’re sick because he wants you to get better🤭🤭

bossy remus will be the death of me actually. I desperately need him to boss me around I’m so serious

summary: remus cancels plans and looks after you when you’re sick cw! throwing up / being sick (not very descriptive)

fem!reader 1.1k words

You’ve been feeling poorly all day. Nauseous and feverish and a little woozy. You think you ate something bad out with your friends last night. You’ve refused to let it affect you, though, because you and Remus have plans for dinner tonight, and you really really don’t want to cancel them.

It’s only when you’re bent over the toilet bowl, your eyes watering and your throat burning, that you accept that maybe you might be a little bit sick.

You hear Remus’ footsteps in the hallway and you know he’s heard you throwing up. He bangs on the door none too softly.

“Y/N?” He’s practically shouting. Panicked and about twice as loud as he usually talks. “Dove, are you okay?”

“I��m fine,” you say, though you really aren’t. Your breakfast came back up to haunt you and now it’s sitting in the toilet bowl. You refuse to look at it. You flush the toilet and heave yourself off the floor, legs shaky.

“Don’t lie,” Remus says bluntly. Then, softer, “I just heard you throw up, darling. Open the door, will you?”

You groan. Partly because he’s such a bossy boots. Mostly because you feel gross. “Give me a minute, Remus.”

You force yourself to the vanity to wash your hands and rinse out your mouth. You take your time doing so. Remus is antsy as ever by the time you finally open the door. You must look worse than you thought because his face goes from impatient to worried in about a millisecond.

“You’re sick,” he says, and he takes your face in his hands. His fingers feel icy cold on your hot skin. You suppose that’s a bad sign.

“I’m okay, Remus, really.” You’re far from okay. You’re dizzy and his touching isn’t helping. “I think it was just something I ate last night. I’m fine.”

Remus gives you this look that could probably set you on fire. “Stop being silly. You’re pale as death, baby. Come, lie down.”

He manhandles you to the bedroom and plants you on the bed. Pushes your shoulders down until your back hits the mattress and he’s hovering over you.

“Remus,” you whine, but it does feel pretty amazing to be lying down. You stop feeling so dizzy, at least. And your stomach stops churning. You want badly to surrender to the pull of the soft pillows. You also want badly to go out with Remus tonight.

Remus ignores your whining and sits down next to your hip. He leans over you, pushes your hair out of your face with a gentle hand and then takes one of your hands in both of his.

“You can’t go out tonight,” he says, and he at least sounds sympathetic. Like he’s delivering a death blow. It might as well be, to you.

You frown. “But we had plans,” you say uselessly. “I was excited.”

Remus softens. “Aw, honey, I know you were.” He steals one hand away to stroke down the side of your face with his knuckles. He’s gentler than he usually is. All soft and tender, his voice even softer. “But you’re too sick, sweetheart.”

You suddenly feel like crying. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re upset about the cancelled plans. Or because you feel gross. Or just because Remus is such a sweetheart. You suppose it’s a combination of all three.

“I hate being sick,” you say, and it comes out more pathetic than you’d meant. To your horror, a tear squeezes out of the corner of your eye, rolls down the side of your face onto Remus’ pillow.

Remus makes a pitying noise and twists around so he can face you properly. He bends at the waist to scoop you into his arms, lifting you off the bed a couple of inches to pull you into his chest, one arm bent at your upper back so he can hold your head up against his shoulder and the other circled around your waist.

“I know, honey,” he murmurs, stroking the back of your head gently. “It sucks, hm? But we can go as soon as you’re better, I promise.”

Tears spill out of your eyes against your will and soak into Remus’ soft t-shirt. “I wanted to go tonight,” you say pathetically.

Remus sighs. All sympathetic and soft. You know you’re being a baby. At this point you want to be babied by him.

“Honey,” he says into your hair. “I don’t think you could hold down your dinner even if you wanted to.”

You know he’s right. You hate that he’s right. You grumble into his shoulder and try not to cry some more.

Eventually Remus calms you down enough to get you into your pyjamas. He sits you up and hands you your sleep shorts and one of his shirts but you’re weak and dizzy even when you’re only sitting down, so he resigns himself to dressing you. He tugs your uncomfortable work trousers down to your ankles and pulls them off. Helps you get your feet into your shorts and then shimmies them up your legs and over your hips. When he gets to unbuttoning your blouse you try to do it yourself but he swats your hands away.

“Don’t, angel,” he says, stern but soft. “I’ll do it.”

You can’t really say no to that. He unbuttons your blouse and folds it neatly on top of your pants. Pushes his arms around your back to undo the clasp on your bra, peeling it away from your chest. Any other time you’d be a little shy and a lot excited that he’s undressing you like this. That you’re bare-chested in his bed. But right now you just want to sleep. He helps you into his t-shirt and then grasps your shoulders to get you to lay back down.

“M’gonna get you some water,” he says, standing up and taking your work clothes with him. “Do you think you need a bucket?” He doesn’t give you any time to answer. “I’ll get one just in case.”

He disappears for a few minutes. You’re still upset about not being able to make it out tonight — but you’ll admit you’re feeling better now, especially with Remus looking after you so diligently. He returns with an empty container and a big bottle of cold water.

“Here, dove.” He holds out the bottle to you and makes you take a sip, sliding a hand under your head to help you lift it off the pillows. “I found some anti-nausea in the cabinet, did you want to take some?”

“Yeah, please.”

Remus pops the pills out of their packet and makes you take them right out of his hand. You swallow them with some more water and Remus smiles at you.

“Good girl,” he praises softly, his thumb dragging over the corner of your mouth where a drop of water is escaping.

Your stomach turns for reasons that have nothing to do with your being ill.

-

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I’m falling out of obsession love with konig..will you do me the favor and respark my love for him i need an obsessed in love man to match 😓

Word count: 1.9 k

Summary: He comes to see you after a mission.

CW: Mild smut, angst, fluff, emotions. +18 only

A/N: This is part of the Just Friends universe, but pov is 2nd person (you instead of she/her). I'm not sure if this is what you asked for anon...but it's what you're going to get 🥹 

Rain drums your window. You've left it open a crack, and should get up and close it, but you don't have the strength. You can't sleep, you can't get up: it's the wolf's hour and the mood is heavy like the rain clouds that have circled the base for hours now.

It's the first time you hear him breaking in. Well, technically speaking, he's not breaking in anymore, now that he has a key. But it always feels like he comes to see you when you least expect it.

The five-day mission has turned into a four-day and half a night mission, then.

You feign sleep and listen how he takes off his boots. He's illegally quiet without them for such a big man. His shirt meets the floor, then he opens his belt – you know he's about to come and ravish you, and for the first time since forever you are not up for it.

The bed lets out a terrible creak of a wail as he crawls next to you. You fear it's only a question of time before the old metal and wood give in under you two. It's basically a miracle the sturdy bunk hasn't yet broken into pieces from your love.

His length touches you first as he settles behind you. It's hot and hard, lean and sleek, like the rest of the man that soon surrounds you like a copper cable with a pulse. His hand is warm as it slips under the covers and under your shirt. Or actually, his shirt.

"I'm home," he half whispers the obvious. Calls your room his home… Or perhaps it's just you. You're his home now.

The hand drifts to your hip, and it's possessive: he always starts there. You win nothing by pretending to be the sleeping beauty, so your hand comes to rest on top of his.

"Did you have fun..?"

It's a bit of a sick question. But it is what it is. And what's more, he doesn't even answer it.

"I need a fresh pair, Engel," he says with an odd honey to his voice.  "The last one is completely ruined."

You know he's talking about another pair of panties, a comfort object and a lucky charm he takes with him now that he's back in the field again.

The rain taps the window, and the darkness of the room is only pierced by distant hues of blue. The base is never dark, never fully asleep. His hand drags the shirt up, then stops on your ribs.

"You have my shirt on."

It's not a scolding, not at all. It's only a happy, shocked surprise.

"You… You left it here," you turn a little to look at him. You can see his lashes from the darkness of the hood as they drop: he's looking at you with tenderness, although the demanding flesh against the small of your back is far from tender. 

"Mm. You have my shirt and I got your panties... A good deal, eh?"

His hand wanders further under the shirt, cups a handful of your breast. You can feel the cords of muscle bunching against you: abs that contract, thighs that press and lift yours, his cock that gives a taut pull between you two.

Your nipple is caught between hard fingertips, as he twists it like a volume control. Your abs crunch too, out of the sudden sensation that bleeds.

"Hey…"

"I can't concentrate on missions because of you," his voice drops another note or two. And now you are being scolded. But so, so tenderly still…

"Mh, König… Not–not tonight," you whisper, wondering if this man can even take a thing such as a simple no. He lets go of your nipple, but not your breast. 

Not you. Never you.

"You have worries?"

You. You're my only worry.

Your mouth closes, draws into a line. You can't tell him.

“No… No.”

"Let me have you, angel. I've waited so long." His breath is growing heavier, the lean pulse against your back, thicker. 

"I'll make you feel good," he tries to bargain when you're not responding. In a way, you want him too, but for the first time during your... acquintance, you would like him to just hold you. Without the need to throw yourselves off a cliff first.

"Not tonight." You move, then turn in his gentle, throbbing hold, and he almost draws his hand away. "Please, König…?"

"Ok," he says, but looks like he doesn't quite know what to do. Just...hug you? Go to sleep while holding you? It's a change in protocol, but he's willing to do it for you. For that knowledge alone, your hand slithers down, finds his length and wraps around it.

"I can help you? If you want?" 

The rain is thin now, as it bats the glass. He lets you go and gradually leans back, falls to the mattress and allows you to give him a good, long stroke.

"My saving angel," is the only thing he says as he falls as slack as he can – a state which can barely be called relaxed – under your palm.

He's a needy man, and deprived since the last time you saw him. Which is why you know it doesn't take long. You barely see him in the electrically illuminated darkness, but you can feel how the choked sighs ripple across his body. You feel everything: the tight trembles, the density of the air around him. You hear the moist click as he swallows, the panting that rises. The occasional groans that sound like he's crying although he's not.

It's the only way he knows how to feel good, and someday, it just might make you cry. Even the sky cries for him, it seems, because a sudden gust of wind sends an entire sheet of rain against your window.

He's exceptionally quiet, probably because you didn't let him inside you this time. But then you remember he's usually this quiet only when he's emotional.

He's missed you...

That's what this is about – the ever demanding furnace of flesh. He wants to drown in you, burn until there's nothing left. It's been days, and he might've found some privacy to fantasize about you while ruining your lace, but it's no substitute for the real thing.

His hand flies on top of yours after you find that perfect angle, the one he likes. A harsh moan coats the night air, and shoots fireworks inside your stomach. He moves your hand up and down his cock like you can't do it right, but the connection, in truth, speaks of intimacy. The touch is affectionate. It says: 'we'…

Us.

Together.

He hisses, as if he's in pain. But he's just close, and you up the pace: his own hand is now only a loose, gentle cage around yours. He's so long, it seems like it takes forever to travel from the tip to the base, and you're trying to be quick and strong on top of it all. Just milk him well so he can sleep. 

So that perhaps you can sleep.

He looks at what you're doing to him, then looks at you, and it's the vulnerability in that stare that makes you understand he feels equal to that rain. You're his only summer sun. 

Then those lashes flutter, and his eyes turn to glass just before he comes. He spills all over himself with a long groan and a soul-ripping jerk, a giant coming undone under your palm and on your poor bunk bed that has seen so much already. The load is so generous you wonder whether he has even had the time to jerk himself off during the mission. If your innocent lace has barely been touched…

The last spurts are sadder, a few gushes that float to coat your hand, and he finally stills into some form of peace. He breathes in the night, relaxed and empty. You feel like you just worked on an emotional volcano, but he gathers himself quickly, raises to a half sit and tears his shirt off and over your head. Using it to clean himself and your hand, he throws it somewhere on the floor and pulls you on top of him.

Your breasts meet the solid chest, your thighs barely have enough time to go about his hips as he closes you in one of those bear hugs. The half-hard tip of him still throbs against your folds, and only then do you notice you're wet.

"I missed you," he sighs through the mask as you're held tight against his slowly settling pulse. He holds you exceptionally firm, squeezes you against him like you're his favorite toy. He tightens the hold around your middle until you are forced to let out a whimper. Only then does he loosen the hug and give out a gentle chuckle.

"Immer so gut… You feel so good. Always."

His confession is such a normal and yet, such a fragile thing to say, that you feel tears burning in your eyes.

"I missed you too," you say while trying to hide your tears from him.

"If you have worries, you can talk to me," he then says and starts to caress your back. The window is open, and the cool night air rolls in but in his embrace, you don't feel cold. You squeeze your legs and arms around him, feeling like a leech who never wants to let go. Finally, he's holding you, just the way you wanted to…

"It's nothing," you say, when in truth this man has you worried day and night. He's like a fridge you stock full day after day, only to find it empty every morning. And the things he gives you, the things he stuffs you full with… It's like having a cat who likes to fall asleep with you, a tame, purring beast who brings you fat rodents. If you don't praise him for them, he starts to hide them around the house until you wake up one morning to a terrible smell.

"You're the first who's ever hugged me," he mutters somewhere next to your ear. The golden fire inside your stomach turns into pity, horror and pain. 

"Are–are you serious…?" You whisper in the darkness of his mask that's spilled all over your pillow. You know he has had women before you, but apparently, they have never attached to him like this. Like tiny little leeches to a bear.

"Didn't your mother hug you when you were little?"

He thinks on his answer for a second or two, maybe three. The fact that he has to think about it should tell you enough.

"No."

Then, "I can't remember…"

Your lip tugs, your lashes bat away the fire that burns. He's breathing calmly under you again, satiated by a simple handjob and a hug. Although it feels like he's the one hugging you while you're being held captive there on top of him… It feels like he doesn't even quite know what a hug is.

"She had her own troubles," he mutters, sounding like he's about to fall asleep. Even on the brink of oblivion, he defends the woman who didn't know how to hug her own child, because he can survive without touch. No matter what, he will survive. 

His breathing starts to even, and your tears begin to fall. You think of moving from on top of him, to give him space and comfort to get some sleep. But it seems it's not an option, the way he holds you like a plush toy he will never let anyone take from him.

"I think I'm going to sleep now," he rasps, somewhere between awake and sleep. The rain has stopped, and you wonder whether it has only moved somewhere else, if it's now raining inside you. His hold of you tightens just before he slips to sleep.

"Don't let go, Engel…"

[waywardcrow]

I’m back!!! Kind of 😅. I loved this request and this is my first Natasha fic so I loved it more, this was written very quick so please excuse any mistakes.

You felt out of place, you probably should go back to your lab and forget all about this but you couldn't. Natasha came back after a month long mission and you missed her, besides she looked different.

It was hard to tell what was it but for some reason you knew, something was off.

After making a quick stop in the kitchen, you went straight to Nat's office, knocking the door softly but it was too late, you saw her wipe her eyes.

"I- hi, I, sorry" you mumbled, embarassment for you and concern for her twisting your stomach "I brought you hot chocolate"

The readhead spy cleared her throat, taking control of her features and just like that, all the vulnerability vanished.

"Thanks, sweetheart"

She took the cup in her pale hands and it was very hard to don't get close to her to give her a hug.

"Are you ok?"

"Of course" her answer, fast and short, made you wince.

"The mission-" you started but Natasha got up from the chair, avoiding your gaze.

"I have to go" she said, taking her things to leave you there, feeling like an idiot.

A few days after that, you still felt bad. Who did you think you were? Going to the Natasha Romanoff and act like you were friends? Sure, she was nice to you every time she came to the lab to visit Tony but that was it, you were the one who had a hopeless crush on her and now she probably would never speak to you again.

"You should go home, cricket" your boss reminded you.

"Say the pot to the kettle or whatever"

Tony laughed at your sleep deprived response but when he was about to say something else, he saw a certain someone in the door.

"You know what, you are right, night cricket"

And he left, making sure you were busy with your notes and sending a wink to Natasha.

"You should listen to him" were the first words the readhead said, making you yell "didn't mean to scare you, sweetheart"

"No, I'm fine, I just didn't hear you come in"

Taking in her appareance, your anxiety rocketed. Nat was wearing one of your favorite hoodies and leggins, her hair braided to keep it out of the way. She looked beautiful as always but it was almost like she was ready to run away at any moment.

"I wanted to check on you, I haven't see you in a couple days"

Turning in your seat to see her better, you took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, for the other day. I didn't want to intrude" you started but Nat closed the distance between you two.

"Please don't apologize, sweetheart" she sat on your desk, making your heart beat out of tune "you did nothing wrong"

"I- I saw you crying" you mentally slapped yourself after the words left your mouth, what the hell was happening go you?

Natasha pursed her lips and in that moment you were sure she would leave again but instead of that, she looked at her hands.

"There was a problem, with the mission" she said and this time you didn't stop yourself to reach for her.

"Do you- do you want to talk about it?"

Natasha looked at your hands together and sighed.

"Not yet, maybe later" with tenderness, she put her other hand on top of yours "what I mean with this is, I don't want to push you away, not you"

Were you dreaming? Was she saying what you think she was saying? It was impossible. But with the hint of honesty in her green eyes it was hard to doubt her.

"Then don't" you whispered with hope in your voice "I'm here"

A tiny yet beautiful smile appeared on her lips, maybe she wasn't ready to be herself completely with someone else but for you, she will try.

[hxltic]

Heya!

First of all, I just wanna say that your stories/writing skills are AMAZING, I’m absolutely obsessed with your page tbh <3

I do wanna request another Megumi smut fic, if that’s okay. Maybe one where the (fem) reader is pretty anxious about getting intimate, but he gently talks her through it iykwim

Thank you so much pretty, and it’s perfectly okay.

You’d been thinking about it all day. So much so, that as your feet patter on the square tile of the kitchen in your shared apartment, you realize that instead of retrieving the parmesan out of the fridge, you’re pacing back and forth.

But then, every aspect of intimacy throttles into what you thought was a confirmed decision. It then splits it apart, leaving you conflicted when you thought you were done contemplating it.

You were ready. You were more than ready.

What if your ph wasn’t balanced? What if it’s not everything you dreamed of? It’s been a while since you’d actually shaved, would that turn him off? Should you wear something different? Can you even be seductive without being unable to take yourself seriously?

You shake your head at the reeling mess of hypotheticals, somewhat hoping the action would disperse them so that they dissipate into the air. Forcing one foot in front of the other with a sigh, you go to the opposite side of the kitchen, and take a seat on the stool at the bar top after plating your dinner.

And then you’re maybe two bites in before the front door’s lock rattles, clicks, and twists to invite nobody other than your beloved boyfriend in, returning from errands.

He effortlessly carries three bags of groceries in one hand, unintentionally showcasing the rings wrapped around his fingers. The other holds another two bags. He shuffles into the house, closes the door, and greets you, raising the food up high enough to rest it along the granite.

“Hey, what’s up? You made dinner early?” He stocks the milk into the refrigerator.

With a final chew, you place the fork down and rest your chin in your hands. “Yeah, I thought you told me to?”

He nods with a small curl of his lips, “I did. Told you to stop waiting up for me.”

You hum in response. It’s pretty quiet after that, just you two in each other’s presence as a couple, until he’s done with his task and gets a plate of his own. Of course, he comes to sit right beside you, but not before moving your hair out of the way and providing a gentle kiss to the forehead first. You smile, but not as bright as you usually do. He inspects your distant expression.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes find his. You can tell he’s trying to think of anything that could possibly be wrong—something he forgot, or something he did. It’s almost instinct for your heavy emotion to lift temporarily when anyone asks this question, giving you the appearance of an excited puppy. “Yeah, yeah! I’m good. Just,” you shrug, “thinking.”

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

You definitely have his full attention, but when he takes a bite of his dinner, he can’t help but comment on how good it is. Meanwhile, you’re slightly able to feel heat rising to your cheeks. “Uhm…I don’t know. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

By this point the smell of the food is rising into your nose from below, long forgotten as your fingers rub circles into your temple.

“Try. I’ll piece it together,” he reassures. You’ve been trying to work on your communication, as is he, but he’s usually succeeding far more at it than you are, you have to admit.

“Uhh, fuck. I’m…” It’s already difficult to convert thoughts into words, let alone thoughts like these. Oh yeah, Megumi, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me for a while now. It’s even harder when you can feel him staring dead at you with those tender eyes, just waiting patiently for an answer. “Ready to take our relationship— further?”

Your shoulders haunch up protectively when you turn your attention to him, whose eyebrows are furrowed a bit, attempting to comprehend what you just said. It then looks like it hits him, but he inquires anyway, “Further, how?”

You pout, “Are you going to make me say it, Megumi?”

The man wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what you were asking for. But the culpability of being incorrect would make him feel like the worst person on the damned planet, and this would tell you that he was “hoping” you would say something about sex. He knows you. It implies that the topic was on his mind beforehand, ultimately enhancing the pressure since you then would know he was thinking about it.

But truth be told, he wasn’t. When you said you wanted to take it slow, he was completely okay with that. Of course—there’s no denying the amplification of his hormones when you’re fresh out of the shower, walking around braless in a large tee, shorts, and wet hair—but it was never enough to push you into something you weren’t ready for. It would never be. All he had to do was take a shower, whether extra long or cold.

“Are you sure? You do understand that, no matter what, you come before your body, right?”

“Of course. You’ve always made me feel safe, and I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t done the thinking. I’m just nervous, I guess? I want it to be good for you, but I haven’t really done this before.”

“I guarantee you, there literally isn’t anything you could do that would make it a bad experience for me.” His smile spreads a grin to your features, lifting your mood a little. “And you don’t have to be nervous— I’ll be there with you the whole time. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

“Finish your food. I know you’ve had a long day and you need energy for the scandalous acts you’ve committed to,” he adds. You giggle at the joke, suddenly feeling lightweight from the anchor that he’d single-handedly lifted off you.

Only to leave as quickly as it came because that meant you had to get ready for tonight.

——•——

After taking one more shower before he took his, you’re already in bed after dinner, curled up watching the light from the tv fill the room every time you change the channel. The smell of strawberries and coconut bounces off you, probably now into the fibers of the bed, and you’re as smooth as a baby. Everywhere.

The door to the bedroom suddenly opens, revealing Megumi with a towel draped low around his waist, hair fallen, dripping all over the carpet, and cut abdomen a distraction from whatever show you had playing.

The best part about having had that conversation is that you don’t have to conceal your feelings or the throb between your legs anymore. There’s no guilt from knowing the two of you will only get to kissing, desperately trying to find some friction.

Megumi leisurely walks over to the closet, entertained by your low eyes trained to him like a moth to a flame. You don’t even notice his amused gaze. “Can I help you with something?” He teases, eyebrows dipping into a smirk.

Your eyes finally shoot up, but you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed. “Maybe.”

He chuckles, opening a drawer to grab some sweats. “We just talked, like, an hour and a half ago, and you’re already about to pounce on me.”

“Oh please— tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

You carelessly throw the remote down. Megumi disappears, then reappears, pants on and ruffling the towel to dry his hair. When he finishes, he comes to his side of the bed, pinches your chin delicately, and tilts it up to him. His voice was lower, and velvety sweet. He knew he could ask you to do anything if he spoke like this.

“You know I do.”

The ravenette allows you to kiss him softly, but he keeps it short. It’s just enough for a huff to leave your mouth when he pulls away. “We don’t have to do this tonight. There’s no deadline for me to be inside of you,” he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip.

You’d think he was talking about taxes with how casually he said it. Now that was what embarrassed you. “Right. Yeah.”

You force a smile to your face and turn away, going back to the tv, trying your best to ignore the growing heat in your stomach and the sudden disappointment of your work going to waste.

He observes that you don’t actually look satisfied, and was instead shuffling and moving awkwardly. To be fair, he knew what it looked like when you were horny.

“Unless, of course, it was what you really wanted.”

Then you look to him, and when he slowly pans back at you, knowing you took the bait, he immediately understands the severity of how you feel by the undercurrent of desperation in your eyes. You seemed to need him. His eyes slightly widen.

You didn’t just randomly want to have sex with him; it had been growing over time. Every kiss, lick, and touch began to lose its fervor when you’d already known the outcome— when it would stop. You’d just finally been able to vocalize it.

“Come here,” he opens his arms up to you. The bed bounces when you throw the covers off and crawl to him, resting atop his lap and clearing his view to the tv. He didn’t mind; he has a better one.

The friction you get from his legs, pathetically, has you shifting before getting fully situated. His hands come to rest in the dip of your hips to keep you still. But he knows.

“You understand that I love you...”

It was said declaratively, like he was sure, but just in case he was wrong, you could speak up. His eyes carried a kindness to them and his cushiony voice melted your brain. “I do.”

“And you understand what you truly want? You’re sure I’m who you want to be your first?”

You nod. “And hopefully my last.”

“Then I want you to know that anything after this,” he waves his hand in a circling motion, “You are in complete control of. Tell me to wait, I will. Tell me to stop, and I’m sure as hell pulling out, taking my hands off you, whatever, all in an instant. And don’t feel bad about anything you say to me. Ever.”

Soaking in the lecture, being unable to ignore as if they were terms and conditions, makes you fathom how serious this is. He’s speaking earnestly because you did before, hence when you begged to take it slow the day you started dating (he confirmed he didn’t mind, but you truthfully didn’t believe him as per past relationships). In this heart to heart, you looked into his dark blue eyes, wondering how you managed to find someone like him that would wait a million years for your trust.

“Okay. Likewise, I want you to teach me. That way in the future I can be better at what you like.”

A finger comes to brush a tendril of hair behind your ear as you mindlessly fiddle with your thumbs. “You are what I like, beautiful.”

And then you can’t resist feeling the sight in front of you, the same one the pads of your fingers have memorized from repetition, so with a featherlight touch, your hands separate and design delicate swirls into his v-line, trailing only up to about his belly button.

You love seeing his muscles contract when he twitches since everything he does seems to send a shiver down your spine.

Widening your fingers as they rise, they stretch the span of his chest. There’s a low hum when you make sure to lightly drag your nails across his skin, reminding you to shift your focus to his expression. He was already staring at you through his eyelashes.

Your lips find his in the slowest, most sultry manner you can control. Both hands card through his semi-damp locks, quickening his breath alone, while his take rest at the band of your sleep shorts. And just when you think he’s going to slip his fingers through the silk, he grabs you with a firm grip and rolls over so your back is to the sheets, leaving you still pawing at his nape.

The experience increases in heat as it does speed. You were smothered with his presence but you wouldn’t have it any other way. He connects your lips one last time before he parts to share his kisses on other spots of your body, including your jaw, collarbone, and once he gets the thin shirt you’re wearing off— your chest.

And he does just that, peeking up at you first for confirmation you two share the same idea. You answer by lifting and helping him tug it off.

You reach your hands up past your ribs to the swell of your breasts, massaging them, unable to look him in the eye.

“Look at me.”

Well fuck.

You do, and just then he’s placing his free hand over yours, ultimately pilfering its spot entirely, and taking his time to lick around the bud, swirling it into his mouth. It’s his first time hearing the whine that came out of you. He will hear it again.

He does the other the same, hardening the peaks only to leave them be with a conclusive squeeze. “Do you like that?”

You manage, “Yes.”

He kisses down your stomach, leaving a hum in response, and drags his fingers down even further to ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Lace?”

“Yeah, for you.” You shiver at his touch.

His thumb circles over your clit as his chin tips down to shift his eyes around the garment. “How long have you been planning this?”

“It started last week.” Your chest rises and falls when you giggle, it ultimately dissolving into a breathy moan once he applies a deeper pressure. “I took a trip to the mall.”

There’s no response. His hand draws up to the sides of your waist, pausing to give you more slow, endearing kisses along the band.

“I wore it so you could take it off, Megumi.”

“Great.”

And just like that, he’s sliding it off you, down your thighs and throwing them elsewhere behind him. “Can you open up for me?” He coos.

There’s a coil beginning in your tummy, and you aren’t exactly sure if it’s because you’re already throbbing or if the embarrassment is just now settling in. No matter what, you just want him to do something. You spread them.

He groans at the sight of you. Bare.

“Fuck, you’re something else.”

With some hint of friction to stabilize himself, he shifts his hips against the bed, then he dips his head into your center.

You’ve thought about what it would feel like when he “eats you out.” Would it feel slimy and trigger your sensory issues? Would you squirm in disgust or ecstasy? Would it feel like anything?

And now, you finally have an answer, because after the swipe of his tongue on your inner thigh, there’s a warmth you associate with the muscle of his tongue dragging between your lips. Involuntarily, you do begin to squirm.

He does it again, sealing his mouth over you. The unpredictability of where you will feel him next is thrilling despite being now sat up lazily on your elbows.

There’s no doubt it’s making you feel something and it’s starting to gather. So much in fact that the sight of his angled nose and eyebrows between your legs may be too much to handle. You don’t render it as pleasure quite yet though.

“That feels kinda weird,” you mumble honestly. The rumble of his chuckle surges through your stomach as he pulls his face away for only a moment.

“Here,” he utters, and you’re expecting him to do something to help when he shuffles, but suddenly, a single finger prods at your wetness until it’s sinking seamlessly. “This is something you’re familiar with, right?”

Immediately, a gasp forces itself out. You’d done it yourself before so he wasn’t wrong, but when it’s him toying with you and his long finger, it’s a little different. “Mhmm.”

Now he’s really pulling the noises from you. He curls the one finger experimentally; Left, your hip twists. Right, your breathing picks up. Straight up, and your back arches.

He doesn’t take his time sucking up your clit and anything you release for him, the lewd sounds his mouth creates enough to support that, but how can he help it when he thinks about how bad you wanted it? He’s gotta make it count.

On that note, his tongue drags up from your hole to the nub and his head shifts to the side for a better angle. At the same time that he repetitively curls his finger into the spot he observes you like best, he slurps your clit, only to release it wetter than it went in and do it again. There’s a messy sheen of saliva and your slick coating his chin and a dot on his nose.

His palm snakes around the thigh he isn’t practically laying on to your lower stomach and rests it there so you feel everything but tenfold. It wasn’t to keep you still; he likes the chase.

“That feels s-so good, Meg,” you praise, watching his thick eyelashes flutter open when you speak, but somehow still looking like he has no idea what you said. The tingle was getting stronger and stronger, now converting to a hot fire resonating just under his palm. He adds another finger. One of your hands that wrapped around your breast drives into his dark locks. “Oh God—”

When he groans at the feeling is when your body tenses and cinches up, holding onto him for dear life, chasing something not quite too far, but the contorted countenance your features hold instantly lets him know how you feel.

“Let it go, I got you.” He speeds up the finger gyrating through the cushiony walls.

“Megumi.”

“Come for me, baby.”

You relax just enough to feel the entire distant, solitude of your orgasm; but at the same time, it didn’t feel lonely at all. He was right there, quite literally fucking you through it, but it didn’t feel lewd or sexual. It was the first time you’d felt anything like it.

It was like you were somehow spiritually connected as well as emotionally and physically, and there wasn’t anything to separate you from him as every ounce of your being was woven together.

Fuck, you’re already this sentimental and he hadn’t even put it inside yet.

Returning back to the Earth was as hard as it sounds, but the fall is a lot easier when Megumi is there to mitigate it.

On the other side— when you release the iron grip of his finger, he can finally remove it. The only sound in the room is your own heavy breathing.

“Are you okay?” He wipes his chin carelessly.

“It kinda felt like... like I was dying. But good.”

“Perfect, that’s what it’s supposed to feel like. Do you want to keep going?”

“Yeah.”

He nods in approval. Anxiously, your feet rub against each other. His hands trickle around his waist as he slides off the bed, but he notices the staring just before he kicks his pants off.

Instead, he comes around to the side, near the bedside table, only propping a knee up on the comforter to get closer so he can ease you into what he’s about to do next. “Give me your hand,” he suggests.

Without thinking you oblige, but your curious eyes blow wide when he begins to lead it onto his lower abdomen and deeper until both of you, in one movement, are smoothing over trimmed hair and down the length of skin. He was obviously erect beforehand, pressing through the fabric as if needing an escape, but feeling it is something else. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he cups your hand and drags a slow stroke all the way up to his tip and back. Similarly, he releases a shameless, airy moan of his own.

He does it again, and again, then feels that you’ve gathered enough confidence to do it yourself. Which you do; by the time he lets go, you’re already fully wrapped around him and feeling what you can’t see. You follow what he did.

His body slightly moves when he facetiously laughs, but it somehow removes and duplicates the nerves simultaneously.

“What?” You blink up at him.

“Nothing. You’re just so delicate with it.”

“Shut up. I’ll rip it off.”

“Please do,” he laughs once more, bringing an imminent smile to your face, and then he moves to push his pants down his hips. You can’t help but stare at his length in your hands.

He was right, you seemed to be barely gripping him, right before the tip. It was a smooth descent to the shaft, colored a muted shade of pink.

You pop back into reality. Squeezing, you earn a grunt. It was slightly harder to move now. There were only a few ways to lubricate his cock that you had on hand, and the best way that you had been curious to try is right next to it already.

You correct your positioning laying sideways on your elbow, the other hand curled around him, and he almost recoils when you stick your tongue out and look up for his reaction as you press your head forward. A deep sigh flows from his chest.

It wasn’t bad, and didn’t taste like anything, so you do it again, enclosing your lips softly over his tip. He wanted to let you explore so he stayed silent.

You had began to bob your head to cover some distance while trying not to choke yourself, and that’s when he gives the instruction, “Breathe through your nose. Don’t stop breathing.”

It does make it just a little easier as you keep going, but not much, so you pop off and roll your hand around his slick cock now that it was wetter. You sit up completely, tracking the other hand to his balls, praying it’s a myth that boys don’t feel anything there. Hopefully, it will make up for your sensitive gag reflex. “Sorry,” you mutter.

He holds his hair up with his arm, the other hand brushing through yours. His eyes are barely open and accompanied by a darkness brewing inside his pupils. “What did I say?”

You search your brain over for the memory. “Not to feel bad.”

“Yes. And don’t jump to conclusions. You don’t even know how fucking close I am to exploding.”

With that, he removes himself from your hold and reaches down to swiftly grasp your ankles. Yelping, you come sliding down. His pelvis is connected to your ass.

His lips can never stray too far from yours. Just when you’re expecting the deep fervor from not having ever gotten this far, or maybe just having not kissed since you were perched atop his thighs, he resonates his love in the cloud-like puff of his lips. Just when you begin to moan softly while placing a hand on his cheek, he pulls a few inches away.

“You ready?” He rubs over your clit a few times with his thumb. “What do you want me to do? Condom? Birth control? Both?”

You fidget underneath him, shoulders raised high and cheeks reddening. “I’m on birth control. Can you wear one anyway though?”

Your little voice as if he would have any type of negative reaction hurts his heart. “Of course.”

Just as he turns around, you add, “there are some…uh… in my purse.”

“In your purse?” He quirks a brow, smiling.

“I told you I’d been planning this…”

Moments later he returns with the small packet in hand just to rip it and casually roll it onto himself. His eyes focus and his brows furrow.

“Hmm.”

“What?” You sit up. Finally, you spot the problem— most importantly, how the base of the plastic stops about four fifths of the way down his shaft.

“What size did you get?”

“I don’t know. I asked for whatever the average was.”

“Have you no faith in me?” He lightly presses you back down to your back. “Do I look average to you?”

No.

Not like you knew, but you could imagine.

“We’ll make it work. Hold on to me,” he assures. You do just that in an attempt to run away from the embarrassment and link your arms around his neck.

Before you know it he’s patting your dripping pussy, lining himself up, tipping his head up to nip at your neck, and prodding at your entrance.

“Oh shit,” he hears you say under your breath. He didn’t mean to laugh but it slipped.

“What? You scared?”

No reply.

“It’s okay, you’re in charge. Take a deep breath.”

When he feels you inhale under him is when he takes the chance and inches in, pulling a gasp from your lungs right into his ear. Both of you curse at the same time. “Megumi.”

“Breathe, baby.” He inches in farther, not quite bottomed out yet, but closer. Your back raises from the duvet. “You’re almost there.”

One more deep breath that you have to actually, manually breathe out, finally has him buried inside you to the hilt.

“Good girl.”

You were delirious. You wouldn’t be able to believe what is actually happening if it weren’t for the uncomfortable throb below you. It didn’t burn; it was just a pinch from the stretch, which is the best case scenario from all the ways you imagined it would go. Wriggling around to try and speed things up, you were unknowingly killing the man above.

His breathing picks up because, fuck, you were so tight, and whoever said the condom takes away some of that is a fucking liar. Or maybe they weren’t, and if you ever allow him to, going bare might just be on his headstone. You were latched onto him with all your might both on the outside and the inside.

“Tell me—”

“—You can move.”

You accidentally cut him off, but before you can feel bad about it, he’s pulling out, slowly but surely, and turning up your eyebrows when he returns.

A few more of these, a few more “are you okays” from Megumi, a few more of your nods “yes,” and the pain dissipates. Your hums dissolve into low moans that wisp against his neck.

“Does it hurt?” He lifts his head and looks down at you cautiously, searching for pain.

“I’m okay Meg, you’ve asked a thousand times.”

“Do you want me to speed up?” His hands change from your hips to your thighs, then to your legs. His body language portrays that he is nervous. He’d been so focused on you that it slipped your mind how he felt. What better way to calm him down than to get him riled up?

“You’re saying you’ll fuck me now?”

It seemed to work perfectly. His eyes blew wide for a split second hearing your voice say something so demanding and vulgar, but he raised his chest high, took a mean grip back around your hips, and pulled all the way out. When he presses in, his waist has a small curve to add some distance, and it persists like this with increasing speed. The sound in the apartment grows.

There’s a constant movement from the bed going back and forth because of the rhythm he set. With each thrust your jaw drops further. There wasn’t unimaginable speed, but he was pounding against the fat of your ass each time and it was overwhelming. One of his hands finds your bouncing breast.

“When did you get so goddamn needy?” He asks. He wasn’t even grunting or anything, just very accurately moving his hips so his cock stretches the length of your walls.

“When—”

His fingers quickly squish your puffy cheeks together while he bends over close to your face. “Don’t answer that, smartass,” he pecks you on the lips.

The familiar warmth was building within you. Your arms reach up to connect around his back, locking him to your figure and keeping the angle of his thrusts low. You were already finding ways that you liked. Him not too far and his pelvis running against your clit as he grinds. Somehow, you manage to shake him off your face.

Not even to say anything, just to squeeze your eyes shut and release useless words and whines into the atmosphere with your red cheek to his shoulder. He did catch one word though, “closer,” and even though you cannot possibly be any closer than you are, he would try until you’re satisfied.

Testing your flexibility, he hikes both your knees up until they’re almost touching the comforter below and brings them together. This initially makes you feel farther apart with a barrier called your own legs, but then he leans forward on his toes so far that it pushes you deeper into the bed and his nose less than a breath away from yours. He curls his arms around your legs and lifts your head to dig his fingers through your hair before allowing you to rest your head again. How you’re balled up makes you feel so little.

No, to him, you feel more than little; the closeness of your thighs squeezing together removes a significant amount of space on its own. He gazes deep into your eyes when you whisper “there,” in ecstasy.

He hadn’t moved yet, but he could conclude his tip brushed past it as he was trying to get situated. It doesn’t take long for him to find the patch again by the way your eyes flicker back and forth in front of his. Then his hips lift, and he relies on gravity to slam him back down.

“Fuck!” You squeal, twisting your waist to no avail with his weight atop yours. He hits the spot dead on. “Hngh, m’ gonna come s-soon.”

He has an aggravating look on his face like none of this affects him but you know it does. The twitch of his cock says so. “Oh yeah? Can you feel it?”

“Yes! Yes—stop teasing.” The words come out slightly muffled by your scrunched up position. He continues pounding down, the squelch and slapping of skin loud in your ears. It felt like he was reaching your belly button. Every now and then a grunt would push past his mouth.

“But I’m not. Are you sure you haven’t already? You don’t hear that? Or is your pretty pussy just that wet for me?”

You could hear it along with the creak of the bed, but none of it matters when he comes forward, just a little more, to taste the swell of your lips, catching all of your moans in a hot kiss. “Meggg,” you whimper, eyes hanging low and fresh painted toes dancing in the air though every thrust.

“Yes?”

He wasn’t supposed to actually reply, but he only did because he knows you’ll provide an answer if he wants you to. You croak, “Please don’t stop,” to both him and the universe.

“That’s not something you want, beautiful.” And you take it just how it is— a warning, because now that he’s had a taste of you, he’ll go until sunrise. He glances down to where you connect to a sloppy mess of clear and white. It was wet, no doubt, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. “Push against me.”

“What?” Is what he takes the way your eyes peel open as.

“Try to push me out.”

When you finally understand his advice, a light groan turns into a full on cry of his name. He immediately regrets it because you tighten around him, removing the already little space necessary for him to move, almost making him spill on the spot while dragging your nails down the span of his back. He hadn’t known that was what would set you off. Oops.

“Damn,” his brows dip together and his head drops to yours. He decides to suck on the thin skin of your neck as you, like he asked, try to push him out, as well as the rest of the silky white he has clogged. Of course, he was pushing back with just enough strength. Your face was turning red with how hard and unexpected your orgasm hit.

Now, a few more thrusts (that are more deep grinds) to ride out your high is enough to tip him over the edge. He grabs the base of his cock as he pulls out quickly, making sure to hold on to the plastic. Despite how tired you are, you still feel empty.

The second he’s out, he rips the condom off, soothing the skin of your leg with one hand and the other wrapped around his length and quickly twisting the tip. Huh, you were being delicate, you realize.

Watching through deep, weighty breaths as he works himself, it takes everything in you to sit up on your own and wait patiently. It tells him all he needs to know by your posture.

He finally groans loudly, nothing to your volume though, cursing over and over when your hand comes up to knead his balls as the white comes out in spurts all over your chest. It was mostly your breasts, but some tainted your collarbone and chin too.

He finally comes back to Earth sometime later and wipes away the spot on your chin with his thumb before it drips.

“Fuck, sorry,” he breathes.

Before he can get too far, you wrap your lips around the pad of his thumb, sucking it and more off. You get all the way to his bottom knuckle, smiling as you watch his eyes zone in on the action. You remove yourself with a pop.

In case you didn’t know—yeah, he was hard again.

©️hxltic

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ruggie, Trey: More and More

TWST once again picks the most INCRIMINATING villain shots to display in the picture frames 😭 I am BEGGING the museum curator to do better/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

A lion cub, a warthog, and a meerkat.

It was an odd trio, a group of animals that, under normal circumstances, would never be together. Certainly not like this—not grinning, snuggling up with each other. Carnivore, herbivore, omnivore. Sharing the lives they had, joined in heart and in song.

No worries for the rest of their days.

Ruggie snickered behind one hand. Man, ain't that the dream?

"They've got nice smiles."

The hyena's ears perked. His eyes shifted to a Heartslabyul student gazing upon the same painting. Tall, built well, in glasses.

"Come again?"

"Their teeth," Trey clarified, pointing. "You see? They have different shapes based on their diet. Warthogs mainly eat vegetables, so they have strong, flat molars for crushing plants. But lions are carnivores, so their teeth are sharper for slicing through meat. And meerkats--"

"Okay, I get it already! Now quit it, you sound almost as creepy as Rook." Ruggie groaned. "Can't believe you take one look at this and your first thought is what's in their mouths."

"You don't?" The joke fell flat, and Trey let it go "How about you? What's your first thought when you look at this? If I'm remembering correctly, this painting is based on a story from your country. Does it have significance to you?"

"Eh, it’s some story about a warthog and a meerkat coming together to raise a lost cub they found."

"Really." Trey's eyebrows raised. "How did they manage to feed a baby lion? They probably need a lot of protein, and I don't think a warthog and a meerkat could hunt enough for it."

"Nah, they figured something out." He pinched his thumb and index finger together, peering through the small gap between them and right at the vice dorm leader. "Bugs."

"Bugs?!" Trey startled.

"Yup, there's plenty of 'm and they're packed full of protein for a growing young prince.”

“Prince?”

“Did I not mention it before? Turns out that the lion cub was a missing prince, and they had no idea. When the prince was all grown up, he returned to claim his kingdom with the warthog and the meerkat. The animals were able to get over their differences and live together in harmony. It all started with bugs—that’s pretty resourceful, isn’t it?”

"I didn’t think there would be a twist that wild from a story that started with eating bugs. We sometimes eat flowers in the Queendom, but usually as a garnish or for a snack, not for a whole meal. Is it a cultural difference...?"

Ruggie shrugged. "Sometimes you don't have much of a choice in what you eat. If life hands you lemons when you're starving, are you going to turn it down? 'Course not."

I can't afford that kind of luxury.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Trey gave a light laugh. "You're going to make me hungry too."

"I'd kill for a big roast pork right about now. Fat, sweet, and juicy, the meat so tender if falls off the bone once ya sink your teeth into it..." Ruggie drooled at the thought. "Yeah, if you just shoved an apple into the warthog's mouth, glaze it with honey, and slow cook it over a fire, I bet it'd be real tasty."

"It sounds like you’ve always got food on your mind.” Trey folded his arms, lips tugging back into a lopsided smirk. “Kinda gruesome when you talk about the prep work like that though.”

“We wouldn’t have any food if we didn’t hunt and gather. ‘S how the circle of life works.”

His gaze slanted toward the painting of the happy trio. A unification, food shared from the same platter—it sparked some desperate hope in him.

A world where kings and hyenas can be friends… Heh, maybe I’m asking for too much.

But he was greedy like that. Seeking more and more, his hunger never fully satisfied.

Ruggie shook his head, letting dirty blonde locks fall across his face. “Maybe it’s news to you, but beastmen don’t exactly see eye to eye with other beastmen. That’s why it’s practically a miracle that those three get along. It’s a tale they tell us in the Sunset Savanna to remind us of what we could be, united under one true kingdom. It’s just that: a story.”

“It’s a nice story,” Trey said simply. “And it would be even nicer if it came true.”

It would.

“It’ll be a looong time before that happens. It’s about as real as my dreams of a roast pork dinner.”

Ruggie sighed as he drew his arms up, hands resting behind his head. He reclined back in that lazy, devil-may-care pose.

Trey watched him, his mustard yellow eyes shifting slightly. “… Are you baiting me to offer to make you some?”

“What?” The hyena feigned shock. “Me, trying to get my hands on free grub? Nooooo, I’d never!”

Trey stared at him indignantly. “You’re not being very subtle there…”

Ruggie showed his teeth. “Was I supposed to be?”

“Maybe you’d have better luck getting a formal invite from Riddle first. I don’t usually prepare whole hams for a single guest either—it’s usually a group meal, so you’d have to share.”

“Tch. Whatever, can’t blame a hyena for testing out a shortcut, can you?”

“Ahahah… I’m slightly concerned that you’d even attempt to have an entire pig to yourself. Your appetite must be legendary.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

More and more—he wanted it all. Gluttony, a sin to the common man. To him, a desire for something greater than this.

He saw it now, a kingdom built upon the jagged cliffs. His kind and other scorned creatures. creeping out from the darkness and into the moonlight. They all looked to the one that stood far above them, the one that would lead them to that shining future.

Someday, it will come.

Ruggie spun, his back presented to the painting. A spotlight upon the trio, and the shadows closing in on his own face.

Even so, his smile was as big and as bright as ever.

“Nishishishishi! Don’t worry so much, Trey-kun~ Just be happy—hakuna matata!”