#im gonna finish the rest of the prompts regardless

[catboydogma]

'til our hell is a good life

codywan week 2024 sol master list (solsterlist)

codywan week 2024 day 1 prompts, sol edition: no/different order 66, lightsaber/lightsaber training

notes: title from our hell by emily haines & the soft skeleton. i've been having a comically disastrous week/month (it's only the 4th? jesus christ) but god willing i will post for all 7 prompts (+ bonus anniversary prompt?). im not gonna lie i had to pop out the soju to finish this beast and i think that did set the tone for the rest of the week's writing. BETTER LATE THAN NEVER AMIRITE FELLAS

wc: 3,099

cross-posted to ao3

Obi-Wan supposed it might have all started because someone gave Cody a lightsaber. No, it had not been Obi-Wan, and even if it might have been, he knew to always cover his own ass. Qui-Gon had been an excellent teacher, for the most part, and there was one thing he had drilled into Obi-Wan above (almost) all else: never drop plausible deniability.

No, he’d no idea where the lightsaber had come from. No, Cody could keep it now. He wasn’t going to take the damn thing away from Cody when the good Commander had, evidently, come across it fair and square. Obi-Wan knew his Commander; it wasn’t like there was some fresh-faced thirteen year old Padawan wandering around somewhere sans ‘saber. If he had to take a stab at the quandary, he supposed it probably would have happened the time Cody’d dogpiled Grievous with the rest of his Command Corps. No, not that time. The time after that one, perhaps.

Regardless, there came a time when Cody’s tac belt had two lightsaber clips, not just one for when Obi-Wan strategically left his lightsaber in a secure place for safekeeping. The two of them never discussed the fact that Cody was likely Force sensitive. It didn’t seem something Cody was at all interested in; given the givens, Obi-Wan was predisposed to let him take the lead on the topic. Or not, as it happened.

But Obi-Wan couldn’t let that stop him in the face of something so egregious as this, even if Cody seemed determined to duck out of the conversation at every turn.

“I am not a Jedi, sir,” Cody told him for the fifth time that day. “I fail to see what tactical advantage there would be in meditating with a weapon.”

“It isn’t entirely a tactical advantage, per se,” Obi-Wan demurred. “But it can be. It’s difficult to articulate.” Especially when most resources for teaching lightsaber forms and meditations were meant for Initiates first starting out, or struggling Padawans; not outsiders to the Order, and certainly not ones that hadn’t grown up in the Temple. If they’d had the time—if not for this bloody war—Obi-Wan might have taken Cody to Jedha for insight. “Would you learn to fight with a particular blaster even when you haven’t familiarized yourself with its base components, or haven’t learnt how to disassemble and repair it?”

Cody frowned. It was a minute thing, barely a twitch of the corner of his mouth and a slight tilt of his head.

Aha. Obi-Wan pressed his advantage, absently touching Cody’s elbow to direct him around a group of techs as they walked through the halls of the Negotiator. “It’s the same for a lightsaber. The kyber—or heart of the lightsaber—is not just a power source; a strong connection between oneself and one’s kyber is paramount to maintaining a good working relationship with the lightsaber itself. And a good working relationship leads to better results in a fight; not just anyone can pick up any old lightsaber and start swinging it around and expect good results, you know. That’s why the black market money is mainly to be made in the raw kyber itself, not in the weapons.” Obi-Wan made eyebrows at Cody over this, who simply glared at him. Ah, well. A man had to find his fun somehow.

“You have me there, sir,” Cody sighed. He was graceful in his concession, at least. Unlike some others Obi-Wan could name upon learning that, yes, meditation with a new lightsaber was practically required…

“We can clear up an evening for it,” Obi-Wan said, magnanimous even in victory. As ever. “And perhaps I can show you what I mean, rather than trying to talk in circles around it.”

“But you do so love talking in circles around things, sir,” Cody said, dry as anything. Obi-Wan mimed shocked outrage at him, and they passed the next few hours in good humor.

“This can be done anywhere, really, but for your first time I thought to make it somewhat more formal,” Obi-Wan told Cody. He’d somewhere unearthed a spare meditation mat to set in between the cramped space between his ‘fresher and desk. Incense in a lump-shaped holder wafted smoke into the air; one of his last good joss sticks. But this was a special occasion. “Many Jedi like to do it in the salles, and many Consulars perfect it in the field.” There had been the especially memorable time during Obi-Wan’s own Padawanship in that nest of gilloms…

Cody inspected his new outfitting and seemed satisfied, though it was hard to tell. He sat on the mat with no complaints and suffered through Obi-Wan running a hand across his shoulders, then nudging Cody’s legs with his own into something more closely approximating a meditative pose.

“The floating is optional, then,” Cody remarked.

“Well, yes. It’s up to personal preference,” Obi-Wan told him, resolutely not letting his flush creep above the collar of his tunics. It was Obi-Wan’s personal preference, really, and usually something more commonly found in the creche than not. “You can hold your lightsaber, or set it in front of you, or in your lap. Many Jedi like to hold themselves in the Force with the lightsaber, hence why this is often accompanied by one’s lightsaber floating in front of oneself. For today, do whatever feels right to you.”

Cody nodded, then opted to hold his lightsaber loosely in his lap. After a moment of consideration, he mirrored Obi-Wan’s own pose: one hand folded atop the other in his lap, thumbs pressed to each other, lightsaber cradled in his palms and just under the arch of his thumbs.

Obi-Wan guided Cody through the preliminary steps of a light meditation, discarding many of the more Force-oriented aspects and focusing on the connecting to one’s lightsaber, on opening oneself up and letting the kyber reach out in turn. When he felt Cody slip deeper, into a state simultaneously more introspective and more concentrated on his lightsaber, Obi-Wan turned his own attention to his kyber.

The heart of a lightsaber could be a curious thing. This wasn’t all completely altruistic; Obi-Wan had left out the bit about also needing to meditate with his ‘saber, because then Cody might have given him one of those looks. But it was good to refamiliarize himself with his kyber, in a ritual both utterly familiar and yet somehow foreign. He just hadn’t done it in so long, or at least not as thoroughly as he might have liked. They had changed, the both of them. The war, Anakin’s Knighting, Obi-Wan’s own views of the galaxy at large and perspective of self… such was the nature of having a malleable brain and being subject to the rigors of time.

Some interminable time later, the soft beeping of a timer brought Obi-Wan up out of the depths of his meditation. He cracked his eyes open and took a moment to settle himself back down onto his mat, still feeling like a great river was still carving its way through his skull in vast, sweeping currents.

“Don’t give me that face,” was the first thing Cody said when he finally deigned to open his eyes.

Obi-Wan, caught mid-insufferable-smirk, quickly arranged his face into something with less smug. “I shall endeavor to do nothing of the sort. So?”

“I see what you mean,” Cody grudgingly allowed. He looked like he was still chewing something over, so Obi-Wan let him stew in silence while he packed up the remains of the incense and their mats. They shared a quiet dinner over formwork together, as well as a quick update sent to Mace when they dropped out of hyperspace to shift to another lane.

They continued to meditate together. Over time, not always with their lightsabers; Obi-Wan didn’t say anything about it, because a Commander Cody was—at times, very rarely—a creature easily spooked, and Obi-Wan had to be careful in his approach to certain things. But it was—good. To have someone else to share time and space together like this. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until it became a regularity in their schedules; oh, he meditated plenty with Ahsoka, when the 501st and 212th was berthed together or they were sharing missions, and sporadically with Anakin in these same instances, but it… was somewhat another thing, to come to look forward to meditation with another.

Now it wasn’t just Obi-Wan—by himself, in his silent quarters—but it was Cody-and-Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan was also realizing how much he had missed teaching. It wasn’t the same flavor of interaction as between a Master and Padawan, but Obi-Wan enjoyed that Cody was an excellent listener and genuinely enjoyed hearing Obi-Wan ramble on about whatever topic of the day it was. Or topic of the hour, as it sometimes happened. Not only that, but he was the most delightfully clever conversationalist—something that Obi-Wan had always known, at heart, yes, but was coming to explore more and more, as of late.

And then there was the other side of Cody’s learning how to wield a lightsaber.

“You’ve been holding out on me, darling.” Obi-Wan reset and swiped his hair out of his eyes with his shoulder, sweaty fringe just flopping right back over his brow. Of course. He needed a trim was what he needed, but first… he had this to sort.

“I bet you say that to all the men who try that shoulder lock on you.” Cody snorted and readjusted his grip with a quick twirl of his lightsaber. Obi-Wan felt something molten and shivery slide through him, because he had taught Cody that. He manfully ignored the quiet whisper in the back of his head that Cody’s fighting style, after this, would have the hallmark of Obi-Wan’s hands all over him.

The good Commander took Obi-Wan’s split second of distraction as his cue. Bastard. He’d probably been doing it on purpose. Obi-Wan very carefully ignored the frisson of feeling that thought gave him, focused on defense, and then, when Cody had settled into a rhythm, pressing the attack.

“Only you, my Commander,” Obi-Wan said warmly. He ducked under Cody’s guard when his step faltered at that little exchange and the quick twist of the wrist Obi-Wan gave his ‘saber, but didn’t quite press his advantage. This match wasn’t about beating Cody into the ground, though Obi-Wan had no doubt that his Commander would give him a run for his money even if that were the case; no, this was about teaching Cody, and drilling the muscle memory into him.

Cody had taken to lightsaber fighting like a quacta to slime. They’d rotated through each form, but Cody had returned to the first they had drilled for a strong foundation, and Obi-Wan had to say that it quite suited him. This variant of Shii-Cho focused more on lethality than disarming, something which might have given pause to the Jedi Obi-Wan of five years ago had been—but Obi-Wan of now couldn’t argue with results, if those results were what kept Ghost Company alive and well and the Sith from overtaking them. His Commander fought with a combination of focus and brutality, utterly utilitarian but almost elegant in its most efficient economy of motion. Obi-Wan found himself almost comparing Cody’s style to that of a Nabooan ballet dancer’s, famed for their relentless discipline and endurance.

The bout ended when Cody broke through Obi-Wan’s guard with a clever bit of bladework and bashed the crown of his head into Obi-Wan’s face, narrowly missing breaking his teeth in.

Obi-Wan laughed through the blinding pain—literally, his vision was still sprinkled with bright lights and strange afterimages—and said, lying on the floor, “I was right.”

Cody narrowed his eyes at Obi-Wan, lightsaber—now off—imperiously leveled at Obi-Wan’s chest.

“You have gotten better, now that you’ve been meditating with it.”

So, yes. It might have started when Cody found that lightsaber—and held onto it—and learnt to wield it properly. Obi-Wan had a suspicion—well, he had a number of suspicions. This primary suspicion, however, was how it ended.

It was supposed to be a routine inspection; rote, trivial, something necessary but not a thing anyone truly looked forward to. But a gaggle—or perhaps drove—of senators had decided to invite themselves along, some kind of publicity stunt, Obi-Wan didn’t know. Usually Adi handled these sorts of things, or else one of the other PR- or legal-inclined Masters. Thus, of course, Chancellor Palpatine had to say some words at the landing pad—some inane drivel about whatever the hell sentiment Palpatine was using to drive through his bill of the week. Obi-Wan tried not to grimace too obviously at the thinly-veiled warmongering the Chancellor was using to drum up support and inclined his head toward his Commander, about to comment on the daring sartorial choices of one bold politician, when Cody tilted his head towards Obi-Wan and nearly knocked him on the temple.

“I didn’t know the Chancellor used to be a Jedi,” Cody said.

Obi-Wan’s comment died halfway up his throat. He blinked at Palpatine, then at Cody. “Pardon?”

Cody shifted infinitesimally backwards on his heels, allowing Obi-Wan a better view of where Palpatine stood on the other side of Cody, with Anakin flanking the Chancellor’s left.

“He’s got a lightsaber in one of those concealed carry holsters at his back,” Cody told him, eyes still forward, settled in a textbook-perfect parade rest. “I was.” His eyes shifted to Obi-Wan and then back forward in a rare—and unsettling—display of trepidation. “Doing a bit of meditation. As it were. Haven’t had the chance to get the ‘saber out in too long with all these… press tours. So I felt it. First.”

Obi-Wan gaped, forgetting all about the attendant senators and cam droids and the battalion of clone troopers at his back. There were… well, very few reasons he could think of to explain why Senator Palpatine, of all people, had a lightsaber. In a concealed carry holster meant to hide it away even from the eyes of Jedi, of all things. Because—“He most certainly is not, and never has been, a member of the Order,” Obi-Wan said. In fact, he had never been a part of any Force sensitive sect. In fact, Obi-Wan had it on good authority and as a matter of public record that the Chancellor was as Force sensitive as a brick.

Allegedly.

Well. This would either be very, very funny, or disastrous for all of them. Obi-Wan held out a hand and yanked, not letting himself think of any other outcome. A cylinder of cool metal slapped into his hand, stinging his palm and sending an unpleasant shock down his arm. If not for his long history of battling Sith, Obi-Wan might have dropped it on the spot for how it reeked of the Dark, now out from Palpatine’s immediate sphere of control.

Mas Amedda’s blathering stuttered to a halt. Obi-Wan stared at the hilt in his hand, then at Cody’s expression slack with surprise. He thought he knew what the color of the blade would be even before his thumb hit the switch; it was almost like a dream, or a barely-remembered dreg of an old nightmare.

A venomous scarlet light sprang forth.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said after a moment. “I suppose now you can say that Sith lords are our specialty.”

Palpatine shrieked something hysterical and reached out, fingers curling into hooked claws and expression contorting from that of a kindly grandfather into a spitting tyrant. Obi-Wan braced himself for something—he didn’t even know what—and—

Brilliant green light split the morning. Cody caught Palpatine’s chain of Dark lightning on his blade and bared his teeth in a fierce challenge. The stark shock on Palpatine’s face was almost enough to make Obi-Wan laugh. Instead—he leapt forward with his own lightsaber raised in a cross with Palpatine’s—cutting off whatever poison Palpatine had been about to spit at his Commander.

In the end, it came down to the timely and swift intervention of the Coruscant Guard. Anakin had been too busy torn between shouting at Obi-Wan that there must be some mistake, and being goaded by Palpatine into drawing on Cody. Palpatine kept trying to say something to Cody, or else to the nearest officer—Gregor, taking potshots at the Chancellor or else keeping the other senators away from harm—but every time, Obi-Wan or Cody drove him back to the edge of the landing pad and parried another round of lightning or dodged Force shoves.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Fox said to Cody, after, as the scene was taped off and various senators’ statements were taken. He’d shot Palpatine just under the heart, giving Cody the chance to take Palpatine’s head off. Obi-Wan would have been shiningly proud, except he was currently trying to keep his ribs from puncturing his lungs and steering Anakin away from going into histrionics.

“Er, Cody,” Obi-Wan said, tugging on the sleeve of Cody’s blood- and char-spattered greys. There was something very pressing he had to do, right before Mace got here, and his ribs were as supported as they were going to get until a medic got to see to him.

Cody turned, resplendent in his sweaty flush and still breathing hard. Fighting with him in a duel like that had been exhilarating; just as on the battlefield, they worked together like a well-oiled machine, and if not for the circumstances of it all, Obi-Wan would have been enjoying himself immensely.

“I’m tendering my resignation as an officer, effective immediately,” Obi-Wan told him, watching the way the Coruscant sun limned Cody’s tight curls from behind and gilded the edge of his cheek. With that out of the way, he fisted a hand in the front of Cody’s stiff uniform and pulled him down to kiss him soundly on the mouth. Quite a few troopers whooped at the sight; that was likely Gregor who was wolf whistling in a truly obnoxious manner.

“You had to do this in the most dramatic way possible,” Cody said, but he sounded fond, despite it all. He pulled back, cast a critical look at the way Obi-Wan was holding his ribs, then ducked back down for another—more chaste—kiss. “As long as you’ll take me with you when you go, my General.”

From just beside Obi-Wan, Anakin let out a sound previously only heard from gravely ill massiffs and tipped right over his breaking point.

[rorywritesjunk]

WIP TITLE GAME

rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @galaxycunt

I am also gonna tag @operationroots @hey-august @lostfirefly @fanaticsnail

Okay ready for the excitement (I am not really creative with document names)

"Untitled Document" is Taron and Buggy smut. I'm quickly doing an edit on Chapter 2 before I post it today or tomorrow.

"Tumblr Prompts" is where I work on requests/prompts. There's only one in there so far and it's Buggy and her Husbands for the Swap AU.

"slow burn request" is Cupcake x Buggy. I'm working on Chapter 15 to get the smut going again. There's a possibility I could break 20 chapters with this story Im realizing.

"400 follower story" is slowly getting worked on. It's the story I had people vote for some things for it and am prolly two pages in? It's going to be fluffy and smutty.

"bakery story" is Birdie and Buggy. I don't imagine that one going past 12 chapters.

"Untitled Document" is my Howl's Moving Castle AU. Still working slowly on that. I think I'm going to set aside a day for me to just hash that out and get it finished to slowly share it.

I actually have a file called "WIP" where I throw in chunks of writing that I didn't like for something but wanted to keep around just in case. It's over 100 pages. Some included things were a bit more angst for stories that I didn't want to add in. There's enough angst out there and I didn't want it in my writing necessarily.

Things that I cut were a misunderstanding between young Buggy and Sunny caused by Benji being a little shit. Benji told Buggy that Sunny had a date with someone else when he showed up one day so Buggy assumed he was being led on the entire time. The two had a fight over it. It involved Sunny quitting Miss Pins' and leaving. I couldn't find a good way to fix the situation so I cut it.

Another thing was Buggy suggesting to Birdie he leave her on an island somewhere until the baby was born because why not, he didn't want to leave his ship and be on land while she waited out the rest of her pregnancy. But I didn't want to undo some of their growth. They'll still have some misunderstandings but I felt that was too much.

And Cupcake and Buggy had many hiccups. I decided I didn't like how I was writing Cupcake so it changed to misunderstandings in the bedroom instead of Buggy losing his temper all the damn time and Cupcake crying constantly.

[jubilantwriter]

Jaspvid Week 2020: Day 5 - AU Day

(AO3) @jaspvid-week

this is so late AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

And They Were Supposed to Waltz Together Under the Light of the Moonlight as Fate Foretold

Summary:  Being a toy, Jasper is aware that there are only so many things he can look forward to in life.  One of which is being adopted by a child.  But that was pretty much all he expected from his life.  That is, until a new set of toys come into the shop.  And suddenly, there is so much more to his life that he wants from it.  And so much more he wants to share with the doll behind the glass.

Word Count: 6082

There is a little toy shop just off the beaten path, where the busy city folk forget to glance down as they make their way to and fro from place to place.  Hidden away in an alley, tucked between the quiet coffee shop and secondhand bookstore that only a few know to take solace in, this little toy shop houses a few forgotten joys and wonders that the old, wrinkled man calmly cares for day in and day out.

And every night, when the old, wrinkled man leaves to go home, the toys come to life.

For in this tiny shop lies life beyond what the mind knows to be true.  

A little toy soldier, wooden and dusty, blinks before he looks around, making sure that the coast is clear before he stands up and stretches.  Life begins again, and he begins the same routine he’s followed since the day he received his name.  

But today is a little different, isn’t it?  He looks over to the display case across from his shelf, where new residents are hiding from the rest of the shop.

"Jasper!"  A soft plush of a cat calls to him from the ground, stretching her limbs like a real cat would and yawning as she does so.  "Have you heard?"

"Hey, Gwen."  The toy soldier smiles as he lowers his arms, the springs inside his wooden limbs squeaking slightly as he does so.  "I didn't need to hear, I'm high enough up here to see everything perfectly fine."

"Whatever.  Just hurry up and get down here."  She rolls her beady eyes as she sits up on the floor.  All around them, the toys begin their daily bouts of getting up and moving around.  Dolls and other stuffed animals gently lower themselves from their bins and greet friends from the other side of the store.  Plastic action figures begin tugging the pillow off the old man's chair behind the counter.  With it, they carefully place it under the shelves and call for their friends to jump off and onto the cushy surface.  Right on cue, the pillow is dragged over to the shelf housing Jasper and his companions, all of them leaping to the floor with practiced ease.  Gwen pads over to him as she lowers her head.  He laughs, gently petting her fluffy head with his formless hand.  She quickly lays down and lets him climb on, his hands and arms slipping safely under her ribbon collar.  "All tucked away?"

"As well as I can be."

"I'd say hang on but you don't have fingers."

"Haha."  Nonetheless, he smiles as she trots over to the glass display case behind the counter.  Already a group of toys have gathered on top of the counter as the biggest bear in the shop carefully lifts them up.  Gwen waits her turn as the bear hoists them up silently, nodding to them in greeting as the pair look towards the display case with the others.  

A new group of toys have made it into the toy store.  While this event itself isn't too uncommon, what catches everyone's attention is the fragility of these toys.  Hand-painted with decorative clothing and ball joints for easy moving and posing, the collection of precious porcelain dolls sit quietly in the display case.

Not moving.

The toys whisper among themselves as they watch with unease.

"Why aren't they moving?"  

"Do they not know?"

"How new are they?"

Jasper keeps silent, the light of the moon highlighting the porcelain dolls with a soft shine he's rarely seen in the shop.  There's two of them, sitting side by side against an ornate castle that looks too decorative to be played with.  Their clothing looks just as gorgeous - one has a long, beautiful gown of royal purple, with golden vine-like designs curling and climbing up to rest gently by her waist sewn in, and of course, a layer of lavender tulle that seems to be common for all princess dolls nowadays.  The princess is beautiful, Jasper won't deny that, with her curly hair falling in waves onto her bare shoulders, and her proud, golden eyes framed by her long lashes.  

As beautiful as she is, however, Jasper finds more of his attention taken by the prince standing next to her, wearing a navy tunic with similar golden embroidery, a cape to match, and a decorative sword hanging from the belt around his waist.  Red hair is styled proudly as it can't decide whether to clash or compliment the clothing the prince wears, and emerald eyes stare straight ahead, looking nearly gentle in nature.

And, like all good princes do, his arm is looped to let his princess hold onto him inside the case.

Beautiful.

Jasper continues to stare, head tilted to the side as he watches the two dolls remain lifeless.

"Do you think they need someone to tell them to wake up?"

"Probably.  Doesn't look like they'll do it themselves."

"Maybe it's the glass."  He slips his arms out and pats her head, pointing with his hand.  "Maybe they can't hear us, so they don't know there's life out here."

"Maybe."  She tilts her head slightly to get a glimpse of him.  "What are you planning?"

"You make it sound bad."  He grins and looks to Big Bear.  "Mind giving me a lift?"

"Jasper-"

"Relax!"  Big Bear gently picks him up while Gwen watches with an annoyed glare.  "I promise, it's nothing big.  Heya Big Bear, put me down in front of the case.  Right on the ledge there."  As the bear puts him down gently, Jasper looks over himself.  He's presentable, right?  It's not like his outfit can change much.  Everything is painted on with care, but he's sure there's bits of him chipping somewhere.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, he's pretty bottom-tier for toys when compared to the porcelain dolls inside the case.

It makes him hesitate, suddenly wondering if it's too late to back out.  He wanted to greet them, welcome them to the shop, but maybe he's not the greatest looking toy to welcome them.  Gwen could have worked much better - her dark brown fur is shiny and new, even though she's been here almost as long as him.  The dust just doesn't settle on her like it does on him and dang, actually, is he dusty too?

He looks back to the toys on the counter, and they all watch him curiously.  Will he do it?  Can he do it?  He looks back to the dolls encased in glass, and it's when he notices that, up close, the red-haired doll has the softest smile on his face.

And for a minute, he wonders how the doll will look when he smiles a real smile, a smile that isn't painted on and is the result of the sweetest laughter, the gentlest of spoken reminders.  Jasper thinks he'd like to see the prince smile at him with a soft smile that's caused because of him.

He lifts his wooden hand to the case and knocks on it.

At first, nothing happens.

So he knocks again.

...Nothing.

"Try knocking harder!"  A voice calls out behind him.  Murmurs from the rest of the toys agree.  So he does.

Still nothing.

Frowning, he lowers his hand and sighs.  Maybe the glass was just too-

Movement.  A blink.  

Jasper rubs his eyes.  No.  He didn't imagine that, did he?  He knocks again.

Golden eyes blink again.  Then green.  

And then the princess looks at him.

"They... they're awake."  He turns back to the toys behind him, waving excitedly.  "They're awake!"  The toys cheer as he turns back to the case and gestures for the dolls to come closer.  "It's okay!"

For a minute, neither of the dolls seem keen to move.  But the princess takes a careful step forward.  Swings her free arm.  Looks to her prince curiously before saying something Jasper can't hear.  Her prince looks more hesitant, but he too takes a step.  Then another.  Swings his own arm before releasing his princess to look at his hands.  He touches his face, before reaching up to gently cup his princess' face.  She grins and cups his in return, and though Jasper can't hear them, he swears that they must be laughing together.

He knocks on the glass again, drawing their attention.  The prince keeps his smile as he looks over to Jasper and he swears that there's something about the prince that takes his breath away.  As the prince approaches, Jasper notices that there's a little hop to his step.  Instead of dignified strides, the prince walks with a giddy little bounce so unlike the image he is supposed to present that it makes Jasper chuckle.  The princess takes her time in coming over, just as curious as the prince but more wary.  He waves to the both of them and smiles.

"Hello!"  The two dolls look to each other before turning back to Jasper with confused stares.  Frowning, he cups his hands around his mouth and yells.  "HELLO!"

The dolls on the other side say something, but he can't hear a word.

Oh no.

The glass is that thick?

"They can't hear me."  Jasper turns back to the toys on the counter.  "And I can't hear them!"

"Is there a way to get the case open?"  Gwen stands from where he left her and explores the counter with the other toys.  "Is it locked?"

Jasper looks around the front of the case and spies a silver keyhole near the top corner of it.  He runs to it, trying to raise himself up high enough to reach it, but it remains well out of his reach.  Frowning, he examines the bottom part of the case, trying to find where the case can be opened in hopes of wedging something between the spaces.  He runs around the front of it, unable to examine the sides or top part of the case.  The prince follows his movements, looking where he looks and turning back to talk to his princess every once in a while.

Jasper tries to wedge the edges of his hand into what looks like a possible opening and grunts.

Nothing.

"It's locked!"  He calls back to Gwen as she and the other toys mess with the cash register.  "What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out how this thing works."  He hears her grumble before her paw slaps at the keys.  "Damn!"

"You think the key for it is in there?"

"Yeah, probably.  A few of the toys mentioned seeing a key in here once or twice before, so it might be for that case."  She looks back at him with a disgruntled look on her face.  "We're gonna mess with it for a while, but it might be a few days before we figure it out."

"You think anyone on the shelves saw how the old man used it?"

"We'll ask.  What are you gonna do?"

What is he going to do?

There's not much he can do from the outside of the case - all he knows is that it's locked, and there's nothing he can do to wedge it open.  But maybe...

"I'm gonna try and see if they can do anything from the inside!" 

"But how??  Didn't you say that they couldn't hear you??"

"I'm just..."  He looks back to the prince, who hasn't stopped following him the entire time.  Up close, he notices that the doll has little dots adorning his face.  Freckles, he realizes, as the doll tilts his head to the side and presses a delicate hand up to the case.  He watches as the doll pushes, frowns, and pushes again.  A panicked look crosses his features as he turns to his princess and calls to her.  From this close, Jasper can almost hear his voice, muffled and faint but still there.

He wishes he can hear the prince's voice in full clarity.

The princess comes over with a frown as she pushes at the glass.  When it doesn't budge, he can see the creases in her brow deepen.  She turns back to the prince and says something, which in turn makes the prince freak out.  As she holds her hands out to placate the panicking doll, Jasper looks over to where their castle stands and wonders what props and little toys could be hiding in there.  He taps on the glass to get their attention, and both dolls look over to him with varying levels of stress and anxiety.

He looks to the both of them and presses a hand up to the glass.

And he smiles.  Comforting, he hopes.  Gentle, he prays.  And hopeful.  Because with the reality of their situation settling into their minds, they need all of that and more.

"Don't worry," he says, mouthing the words carefully as he speaks, "we'll get you out."

////

Days in the store are slow, usually.  All of them sit still and watch as maybe a customer or two pop in, and if they're lucky, a few of them may even find new homes to go to, with children who are excited to play with them holding the lucky few close to their chest.  But the ones who remain now have a different goal in mind.

To free the two dolls trapped in the glass case.

A few dolls have placed themselves closer to the cash register, slowly edging themselves closer as the days go by to get a glimpse at how the old man operates it.  Gwen has been talking with the other stuffed animals, trying to see what they can do about the case from the outside without making it too obvious that something was off about the toys.

And Jasper?

He kneels by the case, working with Big Bear to try picking the lock.  One of the toys had said that they've seen on TV of humans using paperclips and the like to open locks, and while they didn't have any paperclips lying around, Jasper was willing to try using whatever was thin and small to wedge it into the keyhole.

"Annnnd..."  Big Bear holds him up silently, Jasper's arms working as he tries to hear a clicking sound from the lock.  Instead, he hears a snapping noise as the little plastic sword he was given breaks.  He sighs, pulling out the broken pieces and letting them drop to the floor.  "...nothing."

"Nothing?"  Another wooden soldier similar to him helps him out of Big Bear's paws and back onto the glass case ledge.  "Damn, I thought that would work."

"It was worth a shot.  I guess it really does have to be something metal?"

"Maybe."  The other soldier points him to the case.  "I'll keep looking around for other things to use.  Maybe the Barbie dolls have some things we can use.  The prince has been waiting for you, by the way."

"He has?"  Jasper perks up a bit, making his friend snicker at his eagerness.

"Yeah, keeps watching you trying to unlock their cage and making these scared gestures every time you looked like you were going to fall down.  Here he comes right now."

Right on cue, the prince comes to a halt by his side of the glass, hands pressed up against the glass as he looks over Jasper worriedly.  The blonde soldier salutes Jasper with a smirk before letting Big Bear carry him off to the floor.  

The prince knocks on the glass delicately, grabbing Jasper's attention.  Jasper smiles and presses his hand up on the glass in greeting.  The prince wastes no time in gesturing for Jasper to turn, making the brunette roll his eyes as he complies.  He turns on the spot slowly, showing to the prince that he is, once again, unharmed from his endeavor.  The prince's shoulders relax as he visibly lets out a sigh of relief, his smile more calm now that he's confirmed that Jasper was okay.

When there's nothing left for Jasper to do, he tends to find himself back in front of the prince.  Just like now, he sits down as the prince joins, happily watching as the ginger gestures wildly about something.  The prince is saying something, but his lips are moving too quickly for him to read his words, and despite not knowing what the hell he’s talking about, Jasper finds that he doesn't mind.  He's oddly satisfied with just watching how excited and happy the prince is, a warmth settling in his chest as he smiles and watches the prince no doubt recounting something he saw - the customers in the shop, a new thing he found in his castle maybe.  As if on cue, the prince pulls out a small flower from behind him.

It looks delicately made, a prop rather than a toy Jasper believes.  The prince gently clinks it to the glass, smiling sweetly as he looks to Jasper.  

Jasper places his hand over the spot of the flower, his own smile softening as he gazes into eyes greener than anything he's seen in the shop.  He wonders if there's green outside the shop that matches the shade the prince wears.

It must belong to something incredible, something as wonderful as the prince himself.  Jasper has always wanted to leave the shop, but he never really found a reason to leave himself when it was much easier to let a child pick him up and take him home.

There are wonders out in the outside world, he's sure of it.  Outside of this shop.

Outside of this case.

He wonders what the prince sounds like.  Gentle?  Strong?  A high voice?  Maybe a lower one?  What kind of laugh does he have?  

And how does his hand feel?  He's heard porcelain feels cold and hard, but when he looks at the prince and his soft features, he finds it hard to believe.

A knock on the glass brings his attention back to present.  And the other resident in the case looks to him with a smirk on her painted lips.  The prince greets her enthusiastically, and she softens her smirk into a smile, patting his hair carefully before gesturing for Jasper to follow her.  He follows after the princess, curious to see if she's found anything.  Instead, she just takes him to the corner of the case, pointing at the bottom corner with an eager grin.  He looks to her, a question in his eyes as he watches her kneel down and-

He yells as he presses himself up against the case, her fist colliding into the corner.  There's enough force to elicit a small crack in the corner, but as she pulls her hand back, he can see the hairline fractures that litter her hand.  The prince is losing his mind, taking her hand and turning it this way and that, frantic as he examines each crack carefully.  The princess shrugs off his concerns, shooing him away gently as she points to Jasper, and then to the damaged corner.

She wants him to... hit it?

Her smile widens as she takes her cracked fist and punches her own hand, and he swears he can hear the prince scream in fright.

He's not sure what she's planning, but if it'll keep her from punching at the glass like that...

Jasper lifts his own hand.  He can't ball it into a fist like the princess, but he sure as hell can jab as hard as he can.  With a quick thrust, he slams his hand into the corner.  Instead of creating more cracks, however, the corner bites into his hand and leaves a dent.  He pulls back, rubbing it with a hiss as he hears banging from the glass.  The prince looks downright horrified, and the princess herself looks guilty for even suggesting the idea.  But he's only made of wood, it's not like he'll shatter to pieces in an instant.  He waves his hands to show that he's fine, it's just a little dent, it's okay.  But the prince presses up against the glass and gestures desperately for Jasper to step as close as he can.  Knowing what he wants, he presses his damaged hand against the glass for the prince to see.  He turns it this way and that in accordance to the prince's gestures, and when the prince finally stills his hands, Jasper looks up to see that there's still worry and concern on his features.  Jasper taps at the glass lightly and smiles when the prince looks up at him.  With a little bonk, he presses his forehead against the glass.  An answering bonk from the other side is all Jasper needs to hear as he closes his eyes.

He's okay, it's alright.

He wants to comfort the prince with his words, but sometimes, all he can manage are these little actions.

Little movements that they've both used to replace those words that can't hear from one another.

And if Jasper were to press his hand up on the glass, he knows that the prince would do the same.

He's here for him.

And he won't be leaving any time soon.

\\\\

"So that lockpicking thing is a bust."  He sprawls out on Gwen's back, feeling as she moves across the store, looking around for other things they can use.  "But, the princess gave me a new idea."

"Did she now?"

"What if we just, broke the case open?"

"Then the old man would know something was up and freak out."  

"What about we break it a little.  Just a tiny bit."

"And that would help us... how?"

"Imagine this- thank you."  A toy dragon hands him a plastic shield.  He tosses it up and down, judging its weight and hoping for the best.  The dragon straightens up with a proud puff of her chest before ambling away.  "Anyway, so, if all the sound is trapped in that case with them, then if there's like, a little hole, wouldn't it technically be possible to talk with them better?"

"Just talk?"

"Yeah, Gwen!  It'd be easier to work with them, maybe see what they got in that castle of theirs and actually find out what's useful in getting them out."

"I guess so."  Gwen sticks her face into a toy house while Jasper waits.  "Hey is- oh there you are.  Did you find that-?  Oh thank you so much.  Yeah yeah, I promise to give you a ride tomorrow."  A static-like voice chirps happily inside the doll house as Gwen pulls back with a quarter in her mouth.  

"Nice!"

"Yeah well, one of us has to have a real plan."  Gwen tosses a smirk over her shoulder and clambers over to Big Bear, letting them pick her up onto the counter carefully.  "One of the toys thinks that if we push these buttons in the right order, it'll get the register to open up.  And in case it doesn't work, maybe money will do the trick."

"You've got a back-up plan for your real plan."

"Yeah, because my brain isn't just fluff, you block of wood."

"That's Over-Glorified Block of Wood to you."  Gwen merely snorts in response as he slides off of her.  

"Hey, hold on a sec."  Jasper comes up to her face with an idiom ringing in his head for his curiosity.  

"Got more than a quarter?"

"Yeah, actually."  She drops the coin and picks up a familiar car.  He drops the plastic shield and hugs the car to his chest.

"No way.  Where did you find this?"

"I didn't.  One of the other toys did."  She smirks as he rolls one of the wheels, testing it as it clicks back far enough to start speeding in the air.  "Didn't know what to do with it, so we kept it hidden behind the register."  Already, Jasper's mind is spinning up a new plan as he looks around the counter.

"Did they find tracks too or-?"

"I don't know if the old man has any laying around."

"We can improvise.  Those wooden train tracks- those gotta be around somewhere, right?"

"What are you planning now?"  Gwen slides the quarter to one of Legos hopping around the cash register.  "I don't think those ever got sold, but I haven't seen them in months."

"Maybe the Conductor knows.  He's hiding in one of the houses, isn't he?"  

"Probably.  Been moping since the old man took apart his whole setup.  But what are you planning?"

"Momentum."  He points to the ledge of the case to one of the shelves across the store.  Gwen looks between starting and ending points before looking down at Jasper's eager face.  And then bats his head.  "Hey!"

"You dumb block, it'll just fall apart in the middle!  What's going to keep the tracks up in the open air?!"

"Big Bear!"  The stuffed bear turns to them and Jasper quickly waves his hand at them.  "Nonono, don't worry, I don't need your help yet."

"Yet," she repeats dryly.  "What's Big Bear supposed to do?"

"Hold it up!"

"They can barely move from their spot - there's too much fluff, not enough stuffing to keep them upright for long!"

"But the other teddy bears manage to move just fine."

"That's because they're a normal size.  Big Bear is ginormous compared to everyone else, stuffed bears aside!"  She shakes her head with a frown.  "I don't think they'd be able to keep themselves standing, nevertheless the damn tracks."

"Aha, but what if..."  Jasper gestures to the chair behind the counter.  "...Chair?"

"...Will it be enough?"

"Now you're just being a sourpuss."  He ignores her hiss and gestures for Big Bear to come pick him up.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find the Conductor and hopefully get this show on the road!"

It's easy for Jasper to put his plan into action.  Ever since the dolls came to life and were stuck behind that glass case, every toy found it in them to try and do their best in getting them out.  Devising plans, working together, finding bits of forgotten and dropped items hiding under shelves for only the toys to find - each and every one of them was going to do anything it took to get those dolls out, even if it was only for the night.

So with the gray-haired Conductor leading the way, he was able to grab the old, dusty tracks and carefully start connecting the straight pieces together.  With the help of his fellow toy soldiers, they manage to shove and push the chair right in the middle of the small store.  Other toys pitch in, helping them nudge the chair in the right spot while a handful of the stuffed animals carefully guide Big Bear to their spot on the chair, plopping them upright and still.  Toys clamber about the store noisily as Big Bear holds up the unconnected middle part, a group on the counter carefully steadying the last section onto the ledge of the case, and Jasper's group carefully situated on the closest shelf to the counter and steadying the first section to match up with Big Bear's section.

Little toys clamber all over Big Bear as they climb up to the sections and carefully make sure that everything is connected and secure, before giving the thumbs up to Jasper.  Together, he and the rest of the soldiers pull back on the car as far as it can go.  He looks down towards the case and sees the prince pressed up against the glass, watching it all unfold as the register group continue on their problem solving venture.

Jasper knows this little plan of his won't free them.  He knows for a fact that Gwen's idea is the better of the two by a longshot.

But.

As he releases the car with his friends and watches it race down the wooden slope, he hopes at least.

At least the prince's voice can be freed.

And he can finally ask him what his name is.

A resounding crack greets everyone's ears as they all hold their breath.  Big Bear is the first to react, dropping their section of the bridge and having the stuffed animals guide them back to their place by the counter.  Jasper reacts next, ignoring the clatter of wood as he drops onto the cushion on the floor and races over to Big Bear.  Without him needing to say anything, the bear picks him up and gently places him on the ledge.  Jasper runs to where the car remains still by the case and holds his breath as he kneels down to assess the damage.  The princess is already there, looking excited as Jasper pulls the car away from the case.  It's... not quite shattered, but there are definitely cracks spidering out from the impact.  Jasper is ready to feel put out, because all that scheming certainly feels like a waste of optimism when he hears a knock grab his attention.  His eyes meet with a pair of golden ones as she balls her hands up and punches into the air.

She wants him to punch the glass again?  

Well, it might be weaker than before.  

He winds up his arm and jabs at the glass with all his might.  His wooden hand makes a soft "tink", but it ultimately does not go through.  He pulls his hand back, the springs in his wrist feeling a bit bent out of shape, similarly to his mood as the case refuses to give.  The princess frowns for a moment, before brightening and sitting down in front of Jasper.  He watches as she kicks out her leg, the bottoms of her shoe meeting the glass daintily with a tap.  At first, Jasper is prepared to shake his head, thinking that the results will just be the same.

But then he realizes that his foot is more solid.  More built than his feeble, pointed hand.  He can put more force into his kick.  He can rely on more than just the swing of his light arms to make a sad excuse for a punch.

He positions himself right by the crack, leaning back on his arms as he sucks in a deep breath and-

SMASH.

For a brief, wonderful moment, he feels time stop as he watches his foot break through the glass.  Cracks grow from the small break he makes, but he hardly finds them worth any worry as he pulls his leg back and immediately starts to clean the area of glass.  Cheers erupt from behind him as he shoves the glass down to the floor.

Finally.

Finally!

He's getting somewhere!

"David!  David, come over here!"  A voice he's never heard before calls out from inside the case, and he can hear her, a voice that's rich and deep with a slight thrum to it, nothing like he'd imagine her sounding, but her voice sounds right, feels right, it just matches her unwavering determination, the strength that she holds, which means, which means-

"Bonnie, he!  He did it!"

Jasper turns towards that little hole, that little hole that he made that gives him a glimpse into their little world, let's him hear them for the first time, hear him for the first time, and he's-

He sounds so wonderful.

Sweet, melodic, like he could burst into song at any moment, a bit higher than he'd imagine, but not so much that Jasper would miss how full of life and energy his voice holds.  The prince sounds a bit more nervous than he imagined, but that's normal, right?  Because, because Jasper is a little nervous too.  No more silence.

Just.

Being able to listen to him.  To each other.

Green eyes meet his blues, and he wonders, not for the first time, if his eyes were always meant to be painted such a vibrant green.  

"...Hey."

"Hi."

The prince smiles as he kneels in front of the hole, his voice finally, finally, carrying through, loud and clear, no longer muffled, no longer inaudible, but here, here for Jasper to listen to, he wants to listen to his voice forever if he could-

"I'm... My name is Prince David."

"You can call me Jasper."

Carefully, the prince- no, David, reaches through the hole, his porcelain hand real and beautiful and dainty and open for Jasper to take.  Jasper's own hand is nothing but a small, ovular block, nothing detailed like David's, nothing as carefully made and constructed like David's, but as he reaches forward hesitantly, he feels David grab his wooden hand like it's the most fragile material he's ever handled.  Small fingers trace the little dents and scratches that mar the surface of his hand, and he's handled so gently, so carefully that Jasper forgets that David is the more fragile of the pair.

"Jasper."  David breathes his name out like a precious treasure, and Jasper's breath gets caught in his throat.  "That's such a pretty name."

"Thanks, I... um, I chose it."  Green eyes stare at him curiously, and he thinks of that idiom that Gwen loathes for him to repeat out loud.

"Really?  You were made without a name?"

"Well... my entire group was made in bulk.  I mean, some of us were colored differently sure, but none of us had names.  And... we decided when we woke up that we should have names to make us feel more... individual.  And so it'd be easier to refer to each other without getting confused."

"How'd you come up with it?"

"...A little boy."  He remembers a small child from ages ago - dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, excitable, eager, curious of the world and all of its residents - picking him up with a grin, turning him this way and that as he debated with his mother on whether or not he could get another toy.  His mother put Jasper back on the shelf, but the little boy continued to stare with a promise in his eyes to one day take him home.

It’s been so long since he’s seen that little boy.  He can’t help but wonder how his namesake is doing, and if he ever remembered Jasper sitting here in the toy shop.

"A little boy had that name.  And I liked it.  So I named myself after him."

"Ohh."  David hums as he squeezes Jasper's hand.  "If he's your namesake, then I bet he was a good kid."

"I bet."  Jasper holds David's hand between his own, careful not to press too hard less he cracks something.  "I like your name too.  It's nice."

"I mean, it's not as special as yours.  I was made with mine.  Just like Bonnie."  He turns to wave at the princess behind him, the woman looking smug and proud as she waves back only to walk away.  

"I think it's special regardless."  Jasper brings David's hand up to his lips, breathing lightly on it as he looks into his eyes.  "It means your creator put thought into you.  You have a whole story to you, I bet."

"Maybe."  David laughs, a slight blush dusting his cheeks as Jasper sighs at the sight.  "But if you think that's all it takes to make it special then... then I'll take your word for it."

"Believe it," Jasper says with a wink, making David laugh again.  He's about to say something else when Gwen yowls a warning.

"The sun is rising!  Everyone, back to your shelves!"  

Jasper drops the hand he was about to kiss quickly, looking over to Big Bear as they begin lowering the other toys first.

"...I should get going."

"Oh, right."  David looks as downtrodden as Jasper feels, but he places his hand over the glass, right where he imagines he could cup David's cheek to comfort him.  At least now, he can say words of comfort, even if he can't fully touch him just yet.

"Hey."  He smiles, bright and full of hope for the days to come.  "I'll talk to you again later, okay?"

"...Okay."  David places his hand against the glass, smiling with Jasper as neither of them pull away.  "I can't wait to talk to you again."

“Same.”  Jasper presses his forehead up against the glass and closes his eyes.  He doesn’t need to open them to know that David follows in suit.

Because there are just some things that words can’t replace.  Small gestures.  Small movements that words just can’t encapsulate well enough.

And sure, maybe there’s a glass wall between them now.

But soon.

Soon.

He’ll find a way to free them both for good.

[penissirius]

LATE NIGHTS

Bang Chan x male reader

SUMMARY: Chan has trouble sleeping and M/n offers to stay up with him again tonight but he has work tomorrow and Chan is worried M/n won't get enough sleep. Prompt from @littlewhispersofsolitude , prompt: Imagine your OTP #338.

~A/N~ I don't use the exact words used in the prompt but I use the general idea and wanted to give credit to who I got it from- I hope that's okay ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

WARNINGS: Nothing serious, hints towards insomnia, sweet words being said lmao, Hispanic/American M/n I'm sorry if you don't like that but it's only mentioned once or twice by him calling Chan a nickname- (っ- ‸ – ς) soft dom M/n and cuddly Chan

FEMALE ALIGNED DNI PLEASE <3

M/n finished cleaning up the kitchen from dinner and walked into the office downstairs where Chan was currently working. He sat the mug of hot tea he made for him on the desk, he gently takes Chan’s headphones off. “Chris baby are you going to try to get some sleep tonight? It's already midnight.”, M/n asked sitting in the chair next to him.

Chan turned to him, “I was going to but I have so much work to do for the next comeback and I wanna get it all done, and make the Stays proud-”. M/n smiled opening his arms for him, to which he gladly gets in them. “Mi Amor the Stays are going to be proud of you regardless”, he pulls Chan into his lap, “but if you're not gonna sleep I guess I'm staying here with you to at least make sure you take care of yourself.”

Chan looked up at him, “Don't you have work in the morning though?” M/n gently rakes his hand through Chan’s hair humming. “Yeah I do but it's not until later in the evening so don't worry” “I don't want you to not get up for work cause you were up all night with me”, Chan looked up at him worriedly. “No worries mi sol, I’m sure ill be able to wake up properly tomorrow.”

M/n puts Chan in his chair before walking to the door, “Drink your tea love, I’m gonna go make you a small snack and get you a blanket cause it’s cold in here.” Chan smiled at him, “I love you babyyyy~” “yeah yeah I love you too.”, M/n shakes his head walking out the room and into the kitchen.

M/n made him and Chan snacks, got them both blankets, and cleaned up a little more around their shared apartment before heading back into the office. He walked into the office to see Chan huddled up to his screen working again. M/n calmly walked into the room and set the snacks down on the desk, Chan noticed him and took off his headphones.

“Hi baby”, Chan turned to him and smiled while M/n wrapped him in a blanket. “Hola mi sol, hows the song coming along?” M/n asked sitting in the chair next to him with the other blanket around him. “It's pretty good, wanna hear?” Chris unplugged his headphones turning back to the moniter. “Hell yeah, I do.” Chris played it for him and the rest of the night was spent laughing and fixing tracks.

Chan managed to get alot of work done before he started to get tired from the constant cuddles and affection from his taller boyfriend. It was about 5 in the morning when M/n managed to drag his sleepy and clingy australian to their shared room. He changed him and Chris into more comfortable clothes.

He laid them both in bed getting under the cover with Chan clinging onto him. “I woves ou M/n”, Chan mumbled with his face in M/ns chest. M/n chuckled wrapping his arms around him, “I love you too Chrissie~”. The next morning Chan woke up to breakfast made and a half awake M/n getting ready for work.

A/N: This is my first time writing a fanfic in the longest time so im really sorry if it isn’t that good ( ꒦ິ﹏ ꒦ິ ) please do not be afraid to comment and give feedback and definitely requests things, please i have no writing ideas and id much rather write oneshots and fanfics than my english essay. Also, hiiiii I'm the author of all these semi-decent fics and my name is Asher, and I'm non-binary masc presenting and I go by he/they pronouns!

[crimsonophelia]

I came across this blog by pure chance and to say I’m in love with your work would be a COMPLETE understatement <3 If you don’t mind, could I request an imagine involving Diluc and a femme maid reader? The reader has feelings for Diluc, but knowing the consequences of what would happen if she were to even try anything with him, she instead devotes all of her love and care into her work—cooking him extra hearty breakfasts, staying up late well into the night to welcome Diluc home after his duties as the Darknight Hero and to help patch up any wounds he might have acquired, etcetera—entirely unaware of Diluc subconsciously picking up her signs and slowly growing fond of her for it.

It all comes to light when the reader makes a passing comment about being excited to take care of Diluc’s children someday. (“Well, who wouldn’t be excited to take care of their own children?” “...My own children? I was talking about your children, Master Diluc.”) And Diluc promptly ends up struck with the realization that he can see no one else take care of him and his future family better than the reader herself (as his wife, perhaps? 😉)

I apologize if my request was a little specific, feel free to absolutely take any creative liberty with it—just the honor of you writing it would be MORE than enough. Thank you, and I hope you have a truly wonderful day! <3

featuring: diluc x fem!reader

warnings: none

published: april 23 2021

form: imagine

a/n: anon you’re so nice i’m gonna cry TTTT but really, you flatter me, and i also love this request. diluc deserves soft domesticity. i hope you like it, my dear! <3

mondstadt around windblume festival was always quite busy. the knights were busy setting up the decorations around the favonius headquarters, and all the local businesses were preparing for extra-heavy business during the season.

dawn winery was no exception. the ragnvindr family, led by young master diluc, made lucrative incomes during this time of the year, what with all the young lovers courting one another left and right, feeding the city’s wine, restaurant, and flower businesses. the winery also leveraged its monopoly on mondstadt’s most diverse selection of wines and spirits, and hosted numerous winery and vineyard tours throughout the course of the windblume festival. 

needless to say, the staff and owners of the dawn winery were not short of chores and tasks that needed to be completed in order to prepare for incoming business. you were certainly no exception, as a maid of the winery, and by extension, the ragnvindr estate. 

you were tasked with decorating the interior of the winery with various floral arrangements of what they liked to call “windblumes”, but in reality were just a number of other flowers that vaguely fit the description. the rest of the maids were outdoors, preparing the vineyard for the wine tours and marking which barrels of wine would be made available to visitors on the wine tours.

though you were rather abashed, you hoped that this would be an opportunity to find some time to be alone with master diluc. you would never openly admit to yourself your painful longing you felt for the master of the estate, the beautiful man with the flaming hair. regardless, it was unbecoming of a maid to think such things about her employer. having a roof over your head and a stable income was already more than you could ever ask for.

but you couldn’t help but to feel a certain way whenever the young man occupied the same room as you, his presence so large yet so humble, always conscious of those around him. ever since he was a boy, when you had first met him, he had nothing to offer but kindness.

it was years of him returning to the estate in the ungodly hours of the night, covered in cuts and bruises, in which you patched him up, never asking more than “where does it hurt the most”, during which you fell for him as fast as his bandages turned as bloody red as his silken hair.

it was years of you two sneaking glances at eachother, summers in which you and the maids were out under the sun, counting the season’s harvests, where you would catch diluc’s eyes roaming you and only. and when you met his gaze, he would turn away, bashful as a naughty child, and cheeks dusting a rosy pink, almost as dark as the grapes he so loved to walk amongst.

leaving your memories and returning to your duties, you continued to string up the lanyards of cecilias and lilies across the darkwood of the winery foyer. the flora was indeed, quite pretty, although their lightness did clash a little with the dark and brooding mahogany bookshelves you were pinning them onto. reaching up to try and place some cecilias onto the top shelf, you realized that your fingers could only reach a few inches short of the top. dammit. you would have to go fetch the stepladder from the storage closet.

as you were about to turn around, you noticed an arm from your peripheral vision reach up and place the flower up onto the upoer shelf with ease.

“good afternoon, [y/n]. these decorations look lovely. good work.” flashing you his uncharacteristically warm, familiar grin that he seemed to save only for you, diluc finished stringing up the rest of the lanyard across the parts of the bookshelf he know you would be too short to reach.

“good day, master diluc. you flatter me.” you turned away, ashamed at your own girlish excitement. “i hope your work is going well?” the formalities exchanged between you and diluc had become almost like a secret language, one always being able to effectively distinguish the other’s true feelings, beneath the saccharine emptiness of upper-class etiquette. yet this time you hoped he wouldn’t be able to read the fluttering of your heart through your words.

“hm. quite well, indeed.” the man stepped back from where you were working, and looked at the room, as if assessing every nook and cranny with his usual, critical glare. he wasn’t wearing his usual leather suit and fur jacket. today, the young master donned a sharp, three-piece suit, always neat and pressed. perhaps he was ready to go into the city to take care of winery business.

he looked around the foyer, squinting as if looking for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“is something the matter, master diluc?” you questioned. did you place the flowers asymmetrically? or perhaps there was too much space between the shelves and the potted cecilias.

“[y/n], do you ever feel like the winery is too empty?”

confused, you shook your head. perhaps now wasnt the time to bring up the emptiness left behind after master ragnvindr, senior, passed away. you always felt for diluc, and master kaeya as well, after their shining light of a father left the world. diluc had never been the same since then—you had caught him looking through childhood photos in the estate library when he thought nobody else was present.

“well”, you started, choosing your words carefully, “when the time comes for master diluc to have a family of his own, the estate might feel a little livelier then. and i would be very excited to nanny the future generation of ragnvindrs as well, if you’ll excuse my preposterousness.”

the man blinked, as if trying to make sense of what you just said. “nanny? dont you mean-“

oh. diluc sensed that he might have made a mistake. but yet, it made such perfect sense. in what universe could he accept [y/n] not being the mother of his children, the pillar keeping both himself and this entire estate afloat? certainly not this one.

the realization dawned upon him, as well as the regrets from years of inaction in his past. he wasn’t about to let someone else slip through his fingers. not again.

“say, [y/n], my dear. how do you feel about going into the city with me tonight? i have some business i need to run and i’d be much obliged if you accompanied me.”

a/n: aaaaah im pretty happy with how this turned out, and i hope you like it too! i wasnt able to go with your prompt word for word, which i hope is okay. the whole time i was literally imagining scenes from downton abbey lolol

[ppersonna]

pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it.  Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals.  established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever.  thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in!  i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol.  one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard.  wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing.  Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.  

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes.  Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn.  Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin.  You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house.  Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music.  There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper.  Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips.  You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product.  Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock.  Any product would unfortunately get in the way.  Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips.  Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one.  Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror.  The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly.  Jimin would surely lose his mind.  The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight.   Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary.  But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?  You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos.  You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth.  You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.  

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little.  Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry.  I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck 

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in.  You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice.  You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone?  Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance.  Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand.  You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.  

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger.  Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it.  The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching.  The man lived for your exhibitionism.  

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor. 

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you.  Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself.  Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy 

mini 3:07 pm- good.  I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you.  You’ve won the grand prize.  Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home.  You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30.  But was he leaving early?  Could you chance it?  As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door.  Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.  

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back.  You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.  

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity.  The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high.  Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high.  Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom.  He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor.  Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked. 

You’re trembling, you notice.  Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening.  You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent.  He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you.  He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you. 

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle. 

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight.  Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen.  Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous.  His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton.  Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face.  Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you. 

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.  

You play it coy.  “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you.  His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again.  You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early.  Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs.  “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver.  His hands are smooth, warm.  You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs.  You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees.  He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his.  His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive.  He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife.  It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.  

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks.  It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features.  It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.  

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs.  A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud.  “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious.  As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband.  The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body. 

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments.  “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling.  “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.  

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull.  You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning.  Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground. 

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet.  You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring.  Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake.  You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing.  By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind. 

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it.  Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert.  He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you.  You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.  

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain.  It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy. 

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp. 

SMACK.  It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits.  Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops.  You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs.  He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself.  It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue.  It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.  

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile. 

He’s pleased with your answer.  He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back.  Head off the side.  I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass.  It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him.  The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband.  It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed.  Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles.  His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand. 

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft.  You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe.  I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub.  Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare.  You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine.  Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat.  It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head.  Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think.  You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh.  You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right.  You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself.  The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra.  You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.  

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly.  Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it.  You nod again and blink.  “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning.  It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.  

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.  

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more.  He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites.  You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier.  He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however. 

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you.  His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display.  You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you.  He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.”  He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain.  “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then.  Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit.  A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago. 

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud.  Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe. 

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel.  You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.  

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.  

“Add another.”  His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool.  But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself.  His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch.  The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.  

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily.  He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it.  “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air.  “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby?  You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg.  You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation.  He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now.  You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”  

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying.  Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb.  You had been so close, so deliciously close.  Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night.  You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial. 

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release. 

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel.  He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound.  Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness.  It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it.  It’s about the message, the ownership.  

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction.  “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight.  Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words.  Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night.  It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together. 

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight?  You want to make a baby?”  

You nearly sob at his words.  He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.”  His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven.  His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.  

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on.  You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman.  The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it.  You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background.  It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you.  The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him.  It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet.  He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.  

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock.  “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion. 

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips.  You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there. 

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds.  Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.”  He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you.  You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.  

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere.  You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour.  Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth.  He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him.  He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.  

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality.  You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.  

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open.  He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you.  “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.  

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[kingofhearts709]

Prompt: bill and ted give each other haircuts

hello yes im sorry this is late but this is adorable and im happy to write this excellent prompt ❤️

A/N: SO! this came out SO MUCH LONGER than i expected. like i was just gonna cute-drabble it but then my brain was like "NO PERFECT CONCEPT MUST EAT IT." snd I'm very happy to have written it all. im setting this at like pre-excellent adventure.

anyways i hope you have a lovely day and to please enjoy this little thing 💓"

---

Ted blew his bangs out of his face for the fifth time since he'd sat down on Bill's bed, trying to focus on his comic and finding the ultimate difficulty in reading between the long strands. His hair almost reached past his shoulders, and Missy's abandoned scrunchies were starting to look most intriguing.

Bill was no better. Every time he ran his fingers through his hair, they wound up tangled. There was no way he'd be able to handle brushing it every single morning, but the habit of messing with his hair was too ingrained.

"Dude, we need haircuts," Bill grumbled as his forefinger caught on a twisty piece of fringe. "I'm gonna look like a seventies disco dude." Ted snickered at that, and Bill thwacked his chest lightly. "Shut up, Ted, I'm serious."

"Well, my dad won't even pay for a good haircut," Ted huffed, dropping his comic book and blowing his bangs away once more. "If he did, it'd be a buzz." He paused for a moment before suggesting, "You don't suppose Missy could cut our hair?" Bill let out a laugh.

"I would be most doubtful of her skills."

"Okay, well... How much do haircuts cost?"

"More than we can afford." Ted frowned and looked down. "My dad would probably just tell me to cut my hair myself if I asked." It went silent for a moment before a lightbulb lit up in Ted's brain, and he bounced on the bed with enthusiasm.

"...Well, why don't we?"

"Why don't we what, dude?"

"Cut our own hair!"

The idea thrown out to the wind sounded more than insane. Neither of them knew the first thing about cutting each other's hair, let alone their own.

But the thing about Bill and Ted was that, as long as they did it together, it was more than enough reason to say why not?

"Ted, my friend, your idea is definitely most forward-thinking!" Bill complimented, jumping up. "We both know what each other's hair looks like, so we'll totally be able to replicate it!"

The wide grin on Ted's face was enough to break it, jumping up with Bill and looking around.

"I'll go get hair stuff," Bill said as he rushed towards the door. "You get a chair set up." Ted nodded as Bill bolted from the room, going to the corner to grab an old twisty chair that they never used. It still twisted, and was just about the right height for cutting hair, it seemed.

Ted was testing the chair by spinning in fast circles when Bill came back in with a pair of kitchen scissors and two huge towels. He swayed a little as he regained his normal vision from spinning, seeing that Bill was also carrying a spray bottle filled with water, a brush and comb, and a tube of hair product.

"I grabbed some other stuff from Missy's counter, too," Bill said as he dropped it all down on the bed. He picked up the tube and read it, "Something called...'Gar-near Fruck-tiss.' The instructions say it makes your hair smooth." Ted gave an intrigued head tilt before giving a nod and a smile.

"Well, dude, smooth me!" Ted joked, and Bill gave him a look before they found themselves air-guitaring.

Bill wrapped one of the towels around Ted's neck and shoulders, making sure he pulled his hair out from underneath. Bill leant down to assess it, squinting to see if it would help him decide on a course of correct action.

"How short should I cut it, dude?" Bill finally asked. Ted brought up a hand and hovered it palm down before holding it right where his chin ended as reference, and Bill nodded, picking up the spray bottle and spraying Ted's entire head all over until his hair went damp through.

"Bill, you are most concentrated," Ted hummed as Bill ran the comb through his hair to measure it down. It was already frayed from whenever his last haircut had been, it seemed. "Do you actually know what you're doing?"

"Uh...," Bill hummed, shrugging. "I used to watch my mom get her hair cut before when I was a little kid, I guess. They always wet your hair and then do this trippy snippy thing."

Ted snorted as Bill snipped the scissors a couple of times in the air before diving into Ted's hair, holding the length to cut off between his fingers and slowly scissoring away.

It was quiet while Bill worked on his hair, Ted doing his best to keep still, even if he really wanted to turn his head and see exactly what was happening. The only sounds filling the room were Bill walking around him and the snip of the scissors.

As soon as Bill cut off the last edge of Ted's hair, he stepped back and studied his work, furrowing his brows before grinning.

"Dude, I totally nailed you!" he exclaimed, and the redness to Ted's cheeks caused him to add on, "Uh- Your hair, I mean. It looks most bodacious." Ted looked around the room frantically for any reflection, and jumped when Bill held up a mirror in front of his face.

Bill really had done an excellent job. His hair was back to its regular length, hanging right around his chin. His bangs were still a problem, though, and he looked over at Bill and gestured to them.

"Oh, dude, yeah," Bill huffed as he dropped the mirror back where he'd grabbed it and picked up the scissors again. "Sorry, Ted, I forgot your main problem is your egregiously long bangs."

"They're like curtains for my face, duder," Ted hummed as Bill began to separate the bangs from the rest of his hair. He cursed when he grabbed too much of Ted's already-trimmed sections before Ted spoke up, "Oh, dude, grab one of Missy's scrunchies!" Bill raised a brow before following Ted's gaze to the bedside table, where about four of Missy's scrunchies were sitting. How they got there, Bill personally didn't want to think about it. Regardless, he went over to grab one and handed it over to Ted so he could pull his hair back and let Bill have full reign on his bangs.

"Where do they usually end?" he asked as he eyeballed possible measurements with his fingers. His face wasn't unreasonably close to Ted's, considering the circumstances, but it still made Ted nervous.

"Just, like, enough so I can see okay, I guess," Ted said, and Bill nodded as he took the comb and brushed his bangs even before sticking the handle in between his teeth and bringing the scissors up.

At this angle, Ted could see Bill's entire process as he watched his hair being snipped off. The way his face was scrunched in concentration, his gentle movements to make sure he wasn't tugging Ted's head any direction.

He didn't realise Bill was finished until he saw his reflection in the mirror when it was held up.

He looked good, if not better than before, with Bill's handiwork.

"How'd I do, dude?" Bill asked, and Ted reached up to touch his already drying hair. "Want me to put the Fruck-tiss in it?"

"Uh- Yeah, dude, sure." Ted looked over to see Bill grabbing the tube and opening it up, squirting a generous amount into his palm. "Do I have to wash it out?"

"Uh...," Bill turned the tube in his hand and scrunched his nose, shaking his head. "It says to leave in for fifteen minutes and your hair will be, 'smooth and sleek.'" He looked up. "Ready?"

"Yeah, Bill."

After a moment, Ted felt Bill's hands and fingers running right through his hair, keeping away from his scalp as per the instructions on the tube. It was smooth and gentle and overall intimate the way Bill paid careful attention to Ted's hair, running his fingers through. He might've put too much product in, but they could always wash it out if needed.

"Alright!" Bill said when the product was more or less incorporated. "You have been fully transformed into your most authentic self, my friend!"

"Dude, excellent!" Ted said as Bill took the towel off of him, trying not to get the hair everywhere (it already was, but that was beside the point). "My turn, Bill!" Ted stood up and took an exaggerated bow towards the twisty chair, gesturing for Bill to take a seat. Bill bowed back before dropping down and smiling.

Ted mimicked his actions from earlier, draping the towel around his neck and grabbing the spray bottle. However, Bill's hair was curly and almost like a jewfro, and he briefly wondered how he was going to cut it down.

"Dude, I don't think water is going to help," Ted said as he looked around at Bill's head. "You do have one stellar mullet now, but the rest is growing up." Hesitantly, he ran his fingers gently through Bill's curly hair, feeling just how insanely tangled it was. Bill briefly shivered at the motion, telling himself internally to just relax.

He'd already cut Ted's hair, so he should know what to expect, but still, the shock of actually feeling Ted's hands and fingers gave him the most unusual of feelings in his chest. He wasn't necessarily sure if they were nerves or emotions, but either way, it sent a shiver down his spine every time Ted's skin connected to him.

Bill bit the inside of his cheek as Ted stuck his tongue out and tested a single lock of hair, snipping off the end before grinning, nodding as he started to continue.

"Dude, it's like trimming a bush!" he laughed as he went all around, mimicking Bill once more by holding each lock between his fingers. Bill's blond hair fell and separated with each snip that the scissors gave. Ted's movements were slow and calculated, his genuine care for making sure he cut Bill's hair in the most correct way making Bill feel a little more than special.

It took Ted longer than it took Bill to finish up, giving a lock one last cut before jumping back and grinning as he crossed his arms.

"Dude, how is it?" Bill asked, gesturing. "Gimme that mirror!" Ted straightened up as he remembered, turning in a couple of circles before picking it up off the the bed and holding it up.

Ted hadn't done a terrible job, he had to admit. He turned his head back and forth, his smile growing as he saw Ted show up behind him in the reflection. He took a hand and ran it through his hair front to back.

It took Bill a second before he concluded that Ted forgot to cut off his mullet, and he grinned with a scoff.

"Dude, you totally missed the back," Bill said, his hand flipping the hair in Ted's view. Ted frowned as he stood up straight and tilted his head.

"Did I, dude?" he raised his eyebrows, reaching down to move Bill's away and examine it. "Bill, if I might be totally honest, you have always had this mullet, though I will admit it's much longer than normal..."

"No way, dude," Bill rolled his eyes in response. "Gimme those scissors." He reached back to grab the utensil from Bill's hand, a most dangerous risk. Ted, however, held back the pair with a grin.

"Dude, you'll be a total mullet-head!" Ted laughed as he turned and jumped up on the bed, knocking a couple of the items onto the floor. Bill spun around in his seat and looked at the scissors clasped wrong-way-up in Ted's fist.

Bill eyed him for a long moment before bolting up from the chair in a lunge, a total disregard for all those 'safety with scissors' rules from grade school. Ted leaped off the bed for the corner, Bill chasing him there. They could only run around in the small confines of Bill's room, so there weren't many places for Ted to go, nor space to make between himself and Bill.

It became apparent when Ted got onto the bed again and Bill fully tackled him so he had him trapped underneath.

Ted was still laughing even when Bill had him pinned by the wrists and was currently looking down on him with the most fondest of looks, a huge smile gracing his entire face.

"Dude," Ted said through chuckles as he flipped his newly cut bangs away from his eyes, "you look definitively bodacious with your mullet. I think you should keep it." Bill tilted his head.

"Ted, my friend, there is nothing in your head that could ever convince me." Ted let out a laugh before he looked at it over Bill's shoulder, comtemplating.

"I like it on you, dude."

It didn't take long for Bill's brain to immediately agree with that statement.

"You think so, dude?" Bill found himself asking, and Ted looked back to Bill's face, smiling with a nod.

"Most triumphantly." The words put a smile on his own lips, and the warm, butterfly-feeling in his chest was new but most definitely welcome as he squeezed Ted's wrists.

"Well, then, Ted, my most excellent and esteemed partner, I suppose I must keep it just for you."

[toomanyfandoms02]

Tension // Spencer Reid x Reader

A blurb request for @emo---tional ! This is a bit longer than a blurb though OOPS AGAIN.

Summary - Reader and Spencer aren't exactly the nicest to eachother, but that all changes on a jet ride home.

Word Count - 1.2k (ITS 1.2K EXACTLY IM SO PROUD!)

Prompts - "Do you think you could just go ONE day without pissing me off?" -- "Is there a reason you're blushing like that?"

It was normal for this tension to be floating in a room when it was just me and Spencer.

Emily called it *sexual* tension, but I knew that was bullshit.

We remained at a precinct in San Francisco, California. We had just finished a case and the others had gone out to get a drink as a celebration. The jet wasn't able to come until tomorrow because of some fuel difficulties, so we were staying in a hotel for the night. Dr. Reid and I decided to stay here and get a head start on paperwork.

I sat criss-crossed in my chair, bent over a small stack of paperwork that was clipped onto a clip board. My pen scrawled across the page violently.

"You know you really shouldn't slouch like that." Spencer commented, tipping his chair back onto two legs.

"And you really shouldn't tip your chair back, you could crack your head open." He then continued as if I had said nothing, per usual.

"The slouching position puts pressure on your bones, thereby causing discs to become compressed and making you vulnerable to back pain. Also, it causes your pelvic muscles to go slack, which makes it progressively harder to support a well-aligned stance. Not that you have one in the first place." He mumbled the last part, returning to his paperwork.

"Do you think you could just go *one* day without pissing me off? Is it that hard to just keep your genius mouth shut? Or is that the only thing you never learned?" I snapped, throwing my pen on the table and standing from my seat. "I'm gonna go drink with the team. You should probably stay here and think of another smartass thing to say to me next time we're near eachother." I slammed the conference room door and headed to the entrance. The office lady Linda waved sympathetically at me as I left, I gave her a kind smile.

The moment I entered my car I set my head lightly on the steering wheel.

*Why is he such an asshole to me?*

*What even is this feud we have going on?*

I rolled my eyes at the thought. There was no use even questioning it, neither of us had an answer.

I started up my car and drove to the bar the team mentioned. I just needed something to loosen me up. He really knew how to grind my gears, and I was about at the end of my rope.

-

The jet finally arrived at 5 am. I hadn't been able to fall asleep until about 1 so I wasn't particularly in a great mood. My suitcase rolled loudly behind me on the runway. Just as I was about to the steps, Spencer had caught up to me.

"Someone looks like they got a lot of sleep last night." He raised his eyebrows and lightly pointed and rubbed under his eyes, silently stating that I had bags under my eyes. I wasn't in the mood so I didn't say anything back, I could feel my eye twitch in annoyance and my nostrils flare. I stomped my way onto the jet without a word. My bag was thrown near the couch and I plopped onto it. Time for a 4 hour ride home.

My eyes slid shut easily and I drifted to sleep.

-

Apperantly my body didn't want me to sleep, because here I was, just two hours later.

Wide awake.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and adjusting them to the light. Everyone else was asleep, besides Spencer. He sat reading a book in the single facing chairs that were across from the couch.

I willed my legs to stand and take me the the back room for some coffee. I poured my copious amounts of sugar and cream in and headed back out to the couch.

"Yeah, that'll help you fall asleep." Spencer didn't even look up from his book to make the snide comment, just flipping mindlessly through the pages. I opted to not answer again, just rolling my eyes and sitting on the couch again. "What? No witty comment back?" My eyes were glued to the brown liquid that swished in the mug. I glanced at him, then back at the mug, barely acknowledging him. I could feel his eyes on me still.

"Do you need something?" My voice came out as exhausted as possible while I finally made eye contact with him. He stood from his spot, bringing himself next to me.

"You seem off." His shoulder bumped with mine as he sat. I just shrugged in response, my eyes remaining forward as I sipped my coffee.

"I'm fine." I turned my head to look at him, realizing just how close we were. Our noses were nearly touching. I could feel my cheeks heating up, so I whipped my head forward again and brought my mug to my lips. Hoping he wouldn't notice.

But of course he did.

"Is there a reason you're blushing like that?" His question came out so quiet. I was 100% sure that I was the only one that would hear it, even if the rest of the team was wide awake.

"I don't know what you're talking about." My voice was muffled by my navy blue mug, which I set on the table immediatly after, blush free. A hand was brought under my chin, forcing me to face him.

"Really? Because I definitely saw it." He teased. I shrugged once again, trying to come across as unbothered but I truly just wanted to kiss him right now.

But that was crazy.

*Right?*

Regardless of my thoughts, I felt myself leaning in, a sense of relief washing over me as I saw he was too. I put my hand on his chest as our lips met. His thumb stroked my cheek softly.

I had never felt a kiss like that before. It felt like a heated blanket on a winter night. Or when your mom would bring you tea when you were sick. It felt like the suns soft rays on your shoulders on an early spring morning.

It was so *warm*.

I pulled away to get some air.

"I'm sorry." He put his head on my shoulder.

"No! Don't be, I wanted to-"

"No, I'm sorry for being so rude to you all the time. It's very uncalled for. The only reason I started doing that was because I thought you didn't like me, even in a friendly way. So I wanted to beat you to the punch." He set his head on my shoulder, laughing a bit. "Sounds so stupid now."

"Do you think we should keep the whole charade up in front of the team? Just for fun?" I raised an eyebrow at him with a playful smile.

"Does that mean you want to continue this?" He asked with a tilt of the head.

"Obviously." A soft giggle erupted from my lips.

"Sounds like fun." He pulled me in for another kiss. "But we better stop before they start passing around betting money, I heard them talking about it last week." I pushed his chest a bit.

*This should be fun*

[nightklok]

Kiss prompt (if you are still doing them!) Lavonna/Nathan - #75 Kisses Meant To Distract The Other Person From Whatever They Were Intently Doing

76 Kiss Prompts  [Open]

Oh of course, these sort of prompts are always open! :O And I’m sorry for this taking so long, I’m just now getting through to these prompts I owe! And I realize that this may not have filled the prompt but i hope you enjoy it either way!

75. Kisses Meant to Distract the Other Person from Whatever They Were Intently Doing

Lavona placed an ice pack over her head as she looked at the other members standing before her.  They had a look of defeat on their faces as those uninjured tended to the injured. There had been quite a lot of losses from their side and their deaths were sadly in vain as they hadn’t won. It felt selfish to say they had to continue on. Well...the manager seemed to no longer be in the picture so perhaps they could try again. They were running out of ideas, however and the member size was dwindling.

She set the ice pack aside, trying to get the attention of her members, “This has been a day of failure for all but we can’t lose the purpose of our mission, our destiny-“

And then her phone rang and once she checked, she saw that it was a text message: Hey  so I was thinking the other day and ur kinda hot so im fine with 4getting wat happened that day so uh wanna go out?

Followed by another text.

It’s Nathan btw

And another.

From Dethklok

Well, seemed like she had a plan now.

Her triumphant smile easily outshines the worn looks of her members, “looks like we have a good chance of getting him.”

___

The arcade lights of the Dave and Busters were bright, a little too bright for her, but it was what he had picked. Well, it was her fault for saying he could pick whatever he wanted. And that she should’ve listened to that gossip magazine saying Nathan preferred amusement parks/arcades as first dates in a ‘Which Dethklok member should you date?’ quiz. Who knew they were fairly accurate?

Nathan wasn’t wearing his signature black shirt. Well, it was black but it looked more like a polo shirt and he threw on a leather jacket as well. If it weren’t for the fact he was already a tall and intimidating looking guy, he would’ve definitely appeared more nervous than he already must’ve been, “So I hope that this is okay.”

“It’s fine,” She answered as she looked around. There was no one around except for a few klokateers that were near the exits, and in random areas for the room. Most likely the place was bought out for the night for security reasons. She would’ve panicked that it would destroy her plan but it was a plan that didn’t require her members to be put into anymore peril. She glanced around the various arcade games and crane machines, some familiar but others not as it had been years since she last went to one, “What do we do now?”

“Oh uh well, you can pick. We can eat first or play some games, it’s your call.”

“We can play some games,” She answered as she looked around. Surely there must be some game that would let them be alone to be able to take things further? She tried looking but couldn’t find any or didn’t see from her angle. It was a good idea to at least try and play some games, gain his trust and maybe a little flirting here and there wouldn’t hurt. She looked at a crane machine that was full of, ironically, Dethklok themed teddy bears, “I wanna try that one.”

“Oh, crane machines, huh? Nice choice,” Nathan answered. He offered his hand and she took it. Holy shit, his hand was huge and warm and surprisingly soft.

The crane machine was themed around Dethklok unsurprsingly enough. It was with black with blood splatter and an 8 bit version of their songs playing, thankfully not the same song in a loop. A klokateer quickly handed them each a cup full of coins and Nathan inserted a few into the game. The game changed songs and a timer was shown next to the joy stick.

Nathan had given quick instructions on how to effectively strategize. She look around the sides, did mental calculations, and she had the bear in the claw’s grasp only for it to fall completely. She cursed to herself at losing at such a childish game.

“Guess it’s really rigged. I can get a-”

“No, I’ll just try again,” Lavona said quickly. She inserted as many coins as the game would allow her before trying again.

It took about five tries before Lavona realized that Nathan was right; the game was rigged.

Before any of them could even say a word to each other, they both punched through the glass. An alarm quickly sounded from the machine but was quickly shut off from one of the attendants. They picked a bear that wasn’t covered in glass and handed it to each other with a simple ‘thanks’.

Though in all honesty, the sentiment of breaking glass using their bare hands was rather touching. Nathan really didn’t need to do that and probably could’ve had a klokateer smash it for him an attendant un-rig the game. Maybe it was impulse or him trying to make her feel better; but it was the same result of him giving her a bear regardless. It gave a feeling that she hadn’t quite felt in years.

“How about we try some other games?” She asked once klokateers finished bandaging her hands.

“Oh, you still wanna continue? I mean, I understand if you wanna call it a night or something. Sorry about your hand,” Nathan said sheepishly. He took a sip of the cheap beer that was given to them.

“I’ve been through worst dates, Nathan,” She answered, “Besides, it’s been only thirty minutes. There’s still time.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true. Then maybe games that don’t have claw machines?”

“Deal. What other games are there?”

As Nathan began talking about the type of games there are to play, Lavona noticed a klokateer grow limp near the exit and be dragged out. The klokateer, or rather one of her members dressed in their clothes quickly replaced them. The member gave a thumbs up though Lavona tried to tell them to leave. That wasn’t part of the plan!

As Nathan finished talking about one of the arcade games, he noticed that Lavona seemed distracted. Then she noticed that he had stopped talking asked him to continue on talking and he obliged though he did seem a bit wary of what she was looking at.

Suddenly, there was a shout from a klokateer and before Nathan could react, she pulled him down by the shirt collar to kiss him. It was as warm as the first time they kissed among the flames. This time, there was no urgency or even fear or adrenaline. Just a kiss and that was all. Maybe a spark but that was beside the point. She couldn’t just...fall in love with her target-that was completely unethical!

There was silence thankfully though she had a feeling her plan was ruined. And for some reason? She didn’t seem to mind. She took his hand afterwords and they went over to a shooting game.

Aside from whatever the heck happened in the beginning, the date went on without a problem. They played games, won prizes, and ate. There was something she felt when she spent more time with him. It wasn’t the sexual attraction she had always felt with him but rather something more. It felt like being some teenager again and falling in love with the cute guy in math class or something. Felt innocent, almost.

Maybe she could’ve been able to fulfill her plan successfully. After all, Nathan and her relaxed quite a ton thanks to the conversations and beer by the end of the night. But for some reason, she had a feeling that he wasn’t the type to want to go further on a first date and she didn’t mind the delay. 

At the end of the night, when they had only smashed two crane machines and won a ton of prizes, the dethlimo pulled up to Lavona’s house.

“I had a great time. Thank you for asking me out, Nathan,” Lavona smiled at Nathan.

“It’s not really a problem. Thanks for accepting. I had a great time,” Nathan answered with a smile of his own. It was slightly creepy but cute and she liked it.

They kissed and Lavona pulled apart. A klokateer opened the door for her, another bringing out the stuffed animals to carry for her. Once the klokateer dropped off the stuffed animals in her living room couch, they returned and Nathan waved before the limo drove off.

One of the members greeted Lavona though paused when they saw her hand was bandaged, “What happened? Did you get hurt by him?”

“Not at all,” She answered but refused to tell what really happened, “It’s fine, the date went well.”

“So you seduced him?!”

“No, I’m afraid not. It seems like...I’ll have to try again for another date.”

Another member had heard the conversation and went over to them with a sigh, “Nathan seems like the kind of guy who would want to take things slow. It might take weeks, months even! Are you sure this is the most effective plan?”

The idea of getting to spend months with Nathan made her face flush though she tried to downplay her excitement, “Well, whatever is needed for the church, right?”

____

"So did you figure out who she is?” Pickles asked when Nathan went to the living room. The rest of the guys were there as well, watching whatever disturbing horror movie Toki had picked.

“I-uh-yes and no. I know who she is but not what she’s doing exactly,” Nathan answered.

“I knew you couldn’t do it! We shoulda had me ask her on a date!” Murderface said.

“Looks at yous. I thinks she’d justs dies of embarrassments if yous dids.” Skwisgaar didn’t hide his disgust at all.

“Look, I have a plan for this. And it’s just gonna take a while, okay?”

“How longs?” Toki asked suspiciously.

“Uhh..a week...maybe a few months?”

“Are you sure just...asking her is not an option? To save us the time?” Pickles asked.

“Uh, no. Has to totally be my plan. If we wanna figure out what really happened that night, my plan is the only option if we wanna actually..y’know, live.. Anyway, gonna go to bed I’m tired. Good night,” Nathan quickly left before the others could object.

He could ask. He knew that. She would most likely tell him everything. But his mind went back to that kiss and the fun time he had with her. Besides, if she enjoyed destroying crane machines as much as him, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to delay the plan as much as possible.

Before he went to bed, he went to his phone to send only one text to Lavona.

Had fun 2nite. Wanna go out again?

[cheolbooluvr]

so ill get to our big shared chonker of a message hopefully later tonight (sorry i'm taking a little bit with it! i've been weirdly busy the past few days), but i just wanted to respond to the shorter one + address the latest mission!!!

fun fact, you and i are in a very similar position with jun haha. i have a lot of wips with him too, but like, i've never finished a jun fic outside of short little one shots... which is quite frankly obscene because minghao has a word count dedicated to him that's literally more than everyone else in seventeen... I don't even know how many times more because my latest fic with him just reached about 50k... but jun is meant to be my second!!!!! i really want to finish something long with him 😭

still! I know you said its your fault but I will apologise for the confusion regardless! And look at someone who both writes and enjoys angst, no angst is ever too much hehe. there's a weird sense of catharsis in tragedy, at least my onion. I'm excited for how tragic things will get in your latest jun wip. A FREE ONE WAY TRIP TO SPAIN WITHOUT THE S... I LOVE THAT... BUT I totally understand! bittersweet stuff in general sticks with me longer than any other genre of fiction I find, because you continuously think about how they could've been happy but it didn't work out for x or y reason, or maybe even a combo. I'm so happy for you though, I know how good it feels to work on something that you can't stop thinking about, because I've got that fever myself hehe. and that's such an interesting way to write? I can never bring myself to write out of order so I always really admire those who can do it haha. I just never trust myself to remember what details I have established when if I do it out of order like that. Is that how you usually write your longer fics or is this one different?

YESSSSS I ABSOLUTELY AGREE... and he's expressed his desire to act so many times... pledis please... I'm begging u... he would be so good in a tragic drama...

omg I'm so dumb I have to share this with you but ??? I started watching it and I was like wait a minute why do I feel like I'm missing a lot of context... but it was still fun to watch all the characters interact (plus it made me tear up which like.... wowee)... but turns out I started on episode one of SEASON 2...... IM SUCH A FOOL.................. 😭

also! I don't know if you saw the next mission, but were you up for making a play list? I just thought I'd ask before I sent in any prompts!

- 😺 carat anon

HOLY COW I NEVER ANSWERED THIS I’M SO SORRY :(((((((

omg no worries! i have also been weirdly busy??? idk why but i hope you're able to get some rest soon <3

i'm gonna work my way backwards :D

re: the new mission - yes!!! i LOVE curating playlists, like LOVE IT. idk why but let me know any genres you like/don't like, anything at all and i'll do my best!!

OMG SEASON 2 HAHAHA that's so funny plz!! tho tbh, the nice thing abt hospital playlist is that there's no major plot but yeah, there is a bit of context you'll miss out on T^T i hope season 1 is going well tho!! it's kinda long if you're not used to it, but i promise it's super worth it :D idk if you’ve had time to watch anymore, but i’ve been watching it/catching up and it’s rly so good. i cried so much in like…ep 5 of s2? i think? idk one of those ones. but i just rly love how they portray the small things in life. it’s rly beautiful and so well done.

i think my favorite fics are actually angsty ones. i love happy endings for movies and stuff, but the fics that make cry and hurt are my fave?? kinda interesting, the contrast. but yeah, i think you’re right abt that, there are always those lingering ‘what if’s’ those angsty fics always leave you with T^T i mentioned this in the most recent ask, but i can’t write in chronological order rly, lol. i tend to just write scenes that pop into my head first, and then go back and piece it together. it’s tricky for sure, but if i try to move chronologically, i tend to get stuck. so i just jump around instead. and i did that w jun. i divided it up into 4 parts, and then wrote fcertain scnes and then went back to add what i felt i needed to fill in the gaps!! but not trusting yourself w the details, i literally did that w this fic. there are some inconsistencies but it’s posted now and i’m like…too lazy to fix it LOL. but maybe i will……..

wahh!! junhao have dedicated word counts!? that’s amazing. what are they?? :o if you don’t mind me asking ofc.

WAIT 50K WORDS OMG. I WAS JUST READING THAT A STANDARD NOVEL/NOVELLA IS LIKE ANYWHERE BETWEEN 50K-100K WORDS OMG. you’re so amazing, i rly respect you for that omg i would LOVE to hit 50k for a single fic T^T

anyways SO SORRY THIS IS LIKE WEEKS LATE I AM A DUMMY AND DIDN’T REALIZE I NEVER ANSWERED THIS KLFDJASKLFLSA

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Fall Back to the Jet

Summary- Bucky x Y/N (Steve, Natasha, and Sam features) Cap tells you to fall back to the Quinnjet, but you decide on another option. Lucky Buckys close by. Warning- Violence, swearing. Written for @hopingforbarnes​ 250 Writing Challenge. Congrats!!!! Prompt is in bold italiacs. 

Word Count- 1.9k

It was all going smooth till Steve spoke directly to you in his com “Y/N, we have it from here, fall back to the quinnjet” 

You were still the rookie although its been a year, and Steve was the Captain, No one defies the captain, except for you. You eyed the open doorway the hydra agent just went into, taking a deep breath as your resolve settled, you werent going to sit on the quinjet any longer while the rest cleaned up. Ducking into the dark doorway, you stalked down the stairs while hearing your name being yelled at in the com “Y/N, I TOLD YOU TO FALL BACK” Sorry Cap, not this time. 

There are times in your life you maybe regret a decision, this was one of them. You thought the room was clear, sweeping your sights back and forth from the other end of a rifle, when there was a clip to the back of your head, knocking you forward and stupidly dropping your gun. “You Mother Fucker!” you yelp, and turn to face your opponent, twisting your head slightly to knock out the kink he put in your neck. He was well over twice your size, his meaty hands flexing to get around that slim column of your neck, you could see it in his eyes when he lunged at you, side stepping around him with a kick. It was like bouncing your foot off cement and didnt phase him much, smirking at you as he came at you again. “SHIT!” you state as you start blocking and trying to attack back. 

“Bucky you got her?” Steve hissed as they barged into a lab and Steve threw up the shield, blocking the barrage of bullets aimed at the two men. 

“Yea I got her” Bucky ducking behind the shield and once in a while lifting behind from it and aiming his own specially trained on targets rounds, he twisted away and went back out the way he came, using his vibranium arm to slam open doors to see them empty. “Come on Y/N, where the hell are you?” He snarled, until he heard you cussing out someone and the shallow sound of flesh getting pounded on. He hoped that it would be you doing the pounding, but when he opened the door, that certainly wasnt the case. 

Bucky came into you looking twisted around the mans arm, and him slamming you down into the floor, doing your best to keep your head from being bashed in, attempting a kick into his face, his throat, just about anywhere to get him to release his hold. Blood ran down the side of your face from your scalp and your words were flying just as much as anytime youve ever been pissed off, regardless of the situation. “If you dont let me the fuck go you dick wilted asswipe, Im gonna rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat.” If Bucky wasnt scared as hell for you at the moment, he would have rolled his eyes at you, once he realized the way you were being flung back and forth wasnt gonna allow him to take a shot, he shouldered the weapon.Close attack it would be 

Without another pause, Bucky strode forward, his strides wide and his metal arm slammed into the hyrdra agents side of the head, jarring his hand to open wrapped around your neck and you fell to the floor from a considerable height,snapping the back of your skull against the cement with a sharp cry. Rolling away from the two men clashing like titans above you. Bucky was shorter in stature then the hydra agent was, but much more quick on his feet, as well as being a super soldier, it wasnt exactly a fair hand on hand fight. Within minutes the agent was merely blocking the bone rattling blows Bucky was issuing, you were crawling across the floor to where you dropped your weapon, sitting back and putting it to your shoulder, waiting to get a clear shot.

Buckys silver hand wrapped around the back of the mans neck, the plates clinking as he tightened pressure and swung him around right in the aim of your shot, you lining hydra right up in your cross hairs, and pulling the trigger. Barnes turned his face away to keep from getting splattered from brain matter and blood. Loosening his hold, the hydras body, minus the top of his skull, collapsed with a dull thud. You lower the rifle and wince, placing your hand against your head. “Bucky... he got me pretty good.” Your vision going in and out at the moment. 

“Jesus Christ Doll” He hisses as he sidesteps around the body and goes to you, his hands cupping your face to look in your eyes. “Can you focus on me?” You blink a few times and wide eyed stare right at him best you can. 

“Hows that?” You question, grinning stupidly since your just glad Bucky got there in time. He frowned a bit and sighed, wrapping you in his arm to get you to stand. 

“Steve, I got her, Im taking her back to the Jet.” He spoke, not to you though and you didnt bother trying to get an answer. With his assistance, you two hobbled, less with sleuth, but with plenty of pauses for Bucky to check to make sure the coast was clear, the two of you headed outside. Sam was already in the jet, waiting on the two of you. 

“Steve and Nat are finishing up downloading the computer files, then they will join us. Come on Kid, I got a spot waiting for you.” 

“She had her head hit pretty badly” Bucky stated as you two followed Sam inside, going to sit you down, a wave of nausea threatened to upchuck whatever breakfast was, which what was that again? Oh yea, bowl of Wheaties, you remarking to Steve and Bucky this morning across the table. 

“Breakfast of Champs!” You werent exactly feeling like a champ right now. 

Sam looked you over to, prying one eyelid open, then the other. “I think shes going to be okay, but once we reach the compound we will be able to take a closer look.” Bucky settled in beside you and you pried them open once more. 

“Thanks for coming for me.” 

It was this moment Steve and Natasha returned, Steve snapping past you without acknowledging you at the moment. “Get us home Sam” his voice clipped, and Natasha plopped down next to you, her eyes brimming with worry. “Hey, we win some, we loose some right? You also got a hard head, I know.” She teased, having sparred and tumbled with you plenty of times. Steve stayed up at the front with Sam for the moment, but once he was sure you were okay, back home, you were most likely gonna get one of the famous Cap speeches youve seen him dish out to other agents. For now you were content to lay your head on Buckys shoulder, his hand resting against his knee, palm up. Without hesitating, you weave your fingers with his and he gives them a gentle squeeze. It might amaze others just how gentle he could be with that vibranium limb of his. Not you though. 

When the jet lands, you walk off, much more in control then before, but Bucky still hovers nearby and follows you into the medic bay. Quickly your head is checked over, a flashlight shining in your eyes, follow the finger, clean up the scrapes and blood. “Your gonna be dizzy for a few days, so nothing strenuous.” 

In this moment, you were okay with that. 

Steve came in, his demeanor still snapping in anger, but a touch calmer then before. He glanced at the medic and asked “Please, give us a few moments Ma’am, then you can have your patient back.” Bucky moved to take over bandaging the rest of you up as the medic left the room to the three of you. 

He looked at you, hands moving to rest against his hips as he seemed to asses you. “I heard your okay, Y/N. Good, you gave your team quite a scare.” You did have the audacity to look a bit sheepish, but felt the need to defend your actions. “I know, I honestly thought I had him.” 

“Thought, not good enough. Your still fairly new to the team...” This caused a look from you while Bucky patched up the back of your head as best he could. “So I think a bit more team building practices are in order Y/N. Until then, field work is off the table.” 

“What? Steve, come on.” You go to push Bucky back so you can stand up, but hes firm, firmer then you can give him credit for. “It was one mistake, I made a bad call.” 

“Yea, could have gotten you killed. Your always trying to think solo and you just cant. Were a team Y/N. We work together. Ive already made the decision.” 

You kinda gape as Steve turns to leave, fuming. You swear your heads going to blow like in those old bugs bunny cartoons where it goes off like a train whistle. “That son of a bitch just benched me. BENCHED ME!” This time you manage to move to a stand, about to storm off after Steve, but Bucky caught your arm and sat your ass back down. 

“Youve got to calm down before I can fix you up, Okay?” Bucky said calmly as he works diligently. His hands just as gentle as ever, you can barely even tell hes doing anything. You stay as still as you can, fighting back frustrated tears at the Captain benching you like this. Your tired and sore, your reaction just adding to your already bad day. “It was one mistake, one. I just hate always being told to go back to the jet when I could be helping you guys out. It was a bad call on my part, but fuck... I just wanted to be useful. I cant believe how bad this has turned into.” 

Bucky is silent for a moment before he pulls back and studies your face momentarily, and sighs. “Listen, I will talk to Steve, okay? Right now hes just being a dick. He will give everyone else crap about not following orders, but damned if he does.” You wipe at your face to get rid of the frustrated tears build up and arched your brows, hopeful. 

“You would really do that Bucky? If he says yes, I promise I wont mess up again.” 

“Course I would, and let me tell you, Steve wouldnt have listened either.” He went to pick up the tools and waste sitting on the table nearby, and scrubbed his hands clean. “Let him just cool off, hes probably speaking in worry as well Y/N. He doesnt always show it, but your just as much family as the rest of us.” 

Tentatively you go to stand, touching the bandages he finished securing gently and wincing. Without even asking he held out some aspirin that you popped immediately. “How about we go crash on the couch? You still owe me live commentary on that second little people going to drop some jewelry in a fiery hole movie. What was it again?”

This caused you to laugh. “The Twin Towers? Sounds good Bucky” 

@what-is-your-plan-today​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @p8tn0lish​ 

[angelicspaceprince]

Addiction (Alt: Smooch Me On The Goddamn Mouf Hax)

Author: Ama

Title: Addiction (Alt: Smooch Me On The Goddamn Mouf Hax)

Pairing: Scarabee/Reader, Ciarog/Reader, Escarabajo/Reader, Scarafaggio/Reader, Zhuk/Reader

Character/s: Scarabee, Ciarog, Escarabajo, Scarafaggio, Zhuk,

Word Count: 4, 107 words

Warnings: NSFW, a lot of eating out, smexy times, 18+ only please.

Tags: @imma-fucking-nerd, @im-eating-rn@im-eating-rn

Prompt: Beetlejuice thought the most beautiful sound in the universe was the sound of screaming. You are here to prove him wrong of that notion.

Notes: So, for those who don’t know, there is a discord group and we’ve come up with 5 different dons for Mafia AU Beetlejuice. Something was brought up about one of them being caught eating the reader out and being punished for it or something to that degree and I promised @realmonsterboyhours that I’d write a crackfic on it. Here it is. Enjoy. Also, thanks to @monsterlovinghours for helping me with Cia, check that blog out for more info on the boys as Linds has posted about all of them, including what they look like, personalities etc.

Buy Me a Coffee

Addiction (Alt: Smooch Me On The Goddamn Mouf Hax)

To say that Bajo had an oral fixation was, if anything, a massive understatement. The few times he licked your face, you figured that was weird. But when he finally got to your legs and spent hours marking up your thighs before even touching what laid between them? It was official. Boy has a leg kink and loved to use that blasted tongue of his.

Shortly after the two of you started banging, he developed a bit of a…. habit. You lost the need for an alarm clock because every morning when you decided to sleep in his bed or alone in yours, you’d wake up to the demon between your legs, drinking at your slick as you ride out your orgasm. Then he’d pull away, proudly tell you how many times you came in your sleep, before moving back in to finish what he claimed to be his breakfast.

At first, it only happened if you were alone or if you slept in his room. You knew it was a one-way ticket to being woken up in the best way possible. But, you had to give your other boys some loving too.

You didn’t think Bajo would actually attempt to sneak in, you figured he’d leave you alone to the others so then everyone got a share of time with you. Evidently, you were wrong.

You were confused when you woke up, your body felt hot and muscles relaxed, heat radiating from your belly as you come to realise someone was making a home between your legs. It throws you in a loop because you can still feel Bee next to you, not stirring, not yet, and yet there was a tongue lapping away at your juices as your body continues to shudder its way through its orgasm.

“3.” You hear a voice say with a snicker before the telltale sign of hands tracing nails up your thighs as his tongue slides up to start to pay more attention to your clit.

Bajo rolls out of the bed with a loud oof, hitting the floor hard as Bee’s leg seemingly comes out of nowhere and kicks him in the ribs. “Laissez la dame dormir ou je vous arracherai les membres.” Came his threat, voice still laden with sleep but commanding nonetheless as he pulls you in close.

“Oh, come on amigo, no es como si ella se estuviera quejando.” Bajo retorts as he moves to stand and make his way back to his position with your thighs wrapped around his head. Before he could even fully stand, he was tackled to the ground and pounced on by five of Bee’s shadows.

“I never said ya weren’t invited to watch, amigo. Settle d- Oi!” He tries to kick at the shadow trying to get a kick at his balls, failing when another catches his leg and manages to hold it still. “Alright, alright, get your damn shadows off me!” Bee merely hums to respond as he moves to press a small kiss at the base of your neck, keeping you press flushed against him.

“Good morning, cherie.”

“Morning. You gonna let him up?”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You look up at him, his eyes glowing with mischief.

“C’mon love. It’s too early for this. Plus I wanna sleep a lil more with you. I can’t do that with that in the background.” You point to indicate the continuous protests coming from the man on the floor, now being held on his stomach with his hands on his back as the shadows take shots at his ribs. Bee rolls his eyes and waves his hand to dismiss the shadows, anything for you.

“Ah, thanks for that!” He stands up and stretches. “Think I could have another taste, mi amor?”

“Get out Bajo!” The both of you shout, pointing to the door in sync.

~~~

You were certain that Zhuk was too intimidating a figure for Bajo to actually attempt to come in his room. But then again, Bajo was an idiot and would try anything if it meant time to have a taste of you.

This time, however, you didn’t wake up to pleasure. You woke up to pain. With a loud gasp as you feel your thigh erupt in a painful heat, you sit up just in time to see your small black cat who always slept with Zhuk no matter what anyone said dart off into the corner. You rip back the covers to see a very guilty looking Bajo staring up at you, thumb rubbing over your now slightly bleeding thigh. His back is weeping small amounts of blood, by the looks of it, your kitty wasn’t too impressed at the weird bulge that had appeared between your legs overnight and wanted to make her discontent known. “Morning maripos-ah!” He shouts out in shock as Zhuk grabs him from the back of the neck and silently pulls him off the bed and towards the door, holding him so he is a few inches from the ground as he kicks and struggles. Zhuk opens the door and very unceremoniously throws the smaller man out, causing him to hit the wall and then the floor with two very loud bangs. “Oi! I barely even got to six this ti-” Zhuk slams the door in his face before moving back to crawl up the bed and next to you.

“Does it hurt, roza?” His large hand grabs at your knee to move your thigh so he can see the small wound, already beginning to heal up as he rubs at the reddened area, moving his hand to cover every new bruise Bajo had managed to create.

“No no, it’s fine now.” You move in to rest your head on his chest, already starting to fall back asleep. “Five more minutes?”

“Of course tsarina.”

~~~~~

You knew by now that it was going to happen, regardless of who you spent the night with. Granted, he gave you time to allow your legs to heal after the last incident, mostly out of fear of what Zhuk and Bee would do to him if he didn’t. But, eventually, your legs healed up and you were able to sit properly again. Which meant Bajo felt like he had a free invitation to his favourite snack.

When you woke up, you feel warm and fuzzy, muscles relaxed with your pussy clenching. Your thighs are wet to your knees and your entire body just feels hot. You could hear the telltale sign of Gio using his cane, smacking down on someone who was clearly protesting his attack as he rants in angry Italian. “Idiota! Non puoi farmi passare una notte con la nostra ragazza, no, devi entrare e rovinarlo! Merda stupida per il cervello! Ha appena guarito! Il tuo pasto preferito, ti batterò nel giro di un centimetro della tua vita.” You turn to see a very angry Gio beating a dishevelled but clearly pleased Bajo, mouth and jaw covered in your slick as he makes a show of cleaning his mouth and fingers between each wack.

“Amigo, you’re just jealous I got our lovely little mariposa to orgasm on my tongue five times before you realised what was happening.” You roll your eyes as Gio starts his assault again.

“Gio? Baby?” You ask, purposefully making your voice small so both boys turn around instantly to look at you. “Come back to bed?”

Gio softens instantly. “Piccola, I will I’m jus-”

“Please?” You whine out. “Want cuddles with you baby.” You reach out your arms and start making a grabby motion with your hands. “Come cuddle with me, please?”

Gio seems to falter before dropping his cane and moving back to the bed, you scooting backwards so he has room to join you, his arms wrapping around you until he can trace light patterns on your back, your head resting on his chest with a small, content smile. None of them could really turn you down for anything and, in times like this, it really did work to your advantage.

“Think you can move on over there?” Bajo asks, standing at the edge of the bed, clearly keen to join in the cuddle session. You can practically feel Gio heat up with anger at this.

“Esci! Stupido, pomposo, stupido, figlio di puttana-” He shouts, causing Bajo to leave with a snicker before Gio changes his mind and continues to give him a caning.

~~~~~

By now, you knew nowhere was safe. You knew you’d wake up with the Spaniard between your legs no matter where you slept in the house. But, you figured, that if you slept with one of the others that you were protected from at least being over stimmed so early in the morning, to the point that you would rather spend the rest of the day in bed rather than leave your room.

Cia had pointed out that you had yet to share a bed with him, and he was right to a degree. The few times you fell asleep in the Irishman’s room, both of you had been drunk and he had quite literally kicked you out of bed, leading you to walk back into your room to sleep the alcohol off. Still. The two of you weren’t really drinking tonight. And perhaps Cia would be better at protecting you from your nightly visitor.

You woke up with a gasp, eyes instantly locking with a pair of mischievous hazel ones, a fire lit in them. You barely get out a grunt as you feel your thighs shake around the head of the man currently rubbing two of his fingers against your g-spot, tongue assaulting your clit as you continue to come loudly, eyes rolling in the back of your head. You feel slightly warmed metal teeth brush against your thighs as he pulls back to nibble at your flesh, damp with your slick as you pant, turning over to Cia. “You’re not going to stop him?”

Something flashes in his eyes. “And miss the show? Mo grá, you don’t know me very well, do you?” The smile he sends your way causes a shiver down your spine as you feel Bajo chuckle lightly against your skin, your head snapping down when you feel him move to bite and suck another mark onto your thigh, Cia’s hand grasping onto your chin and pulling it face him. “Ag dul chun bheith ina cailín maith dúinn, piscín?” You whimper as you feel the man beneath you slowly slide back up to run the flat of his tongue up the length of your pussy, groaning lowly at the taste.

“Ci-ah!” You grind up against Bajo’s face as his lips wrap around your clit and he starts to draw powerful sucks, causing your whole body to wrack as the already over-sensitive organ starts to take another beating. “How- How many?” You barely get out as Cia coos.

“Eight.” You hear Bajo say against your cunt, the vibrations making your eyes squeeze shut as you roll your hips. Towards him or away from him you aren’t entirely sure, but you do whine in protest when he pulls back, resting his chin on your thigh as he looks up at you with a wicked grin. “Creo que esta mañana es el día en que llegamos a los veinte. ¿Qué te parece mi amigo?” 

“20? I’m sure we can aim for more than that, can’t we?” You whimper at the number, shaking your head as Bajo moves back to push his tongue inside of you, wanting to have a taste of you straight from the source. “Hush, mo ghrá. Lig do Bajo aire a thabhairt duit anois.” Cia chastises as your head rolls towards him.

You move to protest. “Too many.” You say quietly. There is no way, on this progressively not to green earth, that you would be able to come twenty times at the hands of these two and survive. “Ple-ugh.” You gasp when you feel a sharp pinch at your nipples, Cia clearly not too impressed with your protest.

“Oh, don’t fight it now, lie back against me love.” He instructs, bringing you closer to him as you let out a small whimper, much to his amusement. “A piscín, an é go léir atá agat dúinn? Tar ar aghaidh anois, tá mé cinnte gur féidir leat a bheith níos airde ná sin.” Your cries become louder as Bajo’s thumb moves to stroke at your clit, fingers replacing his tongue as he massages at your g-spot, causing you to buck and whine.

“Oh, nuestro pequeño pájaro cantor. Cantas tan bellamente para nosotros.” You feel his metal teeth bite down on your thigh again, this time piercing your flesh as small droplets of red chase their way down to the bed, eyes squeezing shut as you try to focus on every single sensation.

“Keep those eyes open, darlin',” Cia reminds you. Your eyes snap back open obediently, “look at the way he's making your thighs tremble. Does it feel good, hm?” You turn to look down, eyes locking with Bajo’s as he just grins up at you, hand moving so his fingers pump slowly in and out as he continues to suck at the skin of your shaking thigh.

“I- uh. Feels. Hnn.” You give up on words, hips moving to roll in time with the movement of his fingers.

“It must, you can barely string two words together.” Cia comments in amusement.

“Can’t think.” You tell them, and it's true. The fog of your early morning haze has mixed with the fog of coming too many times, being brought back to that edge and Cia whispering in your ear was completely taking over all other functions. You couldn’t think, could barely string your words together, barely remember every word you hear the boys say to you, all that was left was to feel which just made you all that much foggier.

“Shh, pequeña. No pienses, solo siente.” Bajo says from beneath you.

“Falling.” You say with a gasp, hands moving to grasp at the bedsheets as your brain finally succumbed to the fog.

“Eso es, enamórate de nosotros, pequeño amor. No te preocupes Te atraparemos.” You whine as his thumb is removed from your clit, only to be replaced by his mouth, tongue flicking in between strong sucks.

You try to bite back your sounds, the last little bit of you wanting to fight back resorting to ‘you don’t deserve to hear how good you make me feel’ but you fail miserably as Cia’s hand starts to trace up and down your body, pinching at you to keep you on your toes, mind so distracted from everything you’re feeling, you almost miss what’s being said.

“-so soft, so sweet. Oh, leanbh, we might just make a meal of you yet.” Cia purrs in your ear, chuckling lowly when you whine loudly, hips bucking up into Bajo’s mouth. “Would you like that? To be feasted on?” His grin widens as you nod furiously, a strangled version of both their names passing through your lips between heavy breaths as you feel your body tense in anticipation for number nine, Bajo groaning when he realises you’re close again as he seems to start attacking your clit with more vigour, trying to bring you over the edge once more. Cia leans in closer to continue, breath hot against your ear as his hands hold your hips down to stop you from grinding up against Bajo’s tongue. “Oh, look at you, mo stór. So desperate to come again. Oh, little one, we're so hungry for you, hungry for your pleasure. Give it to us. Give in to us. Let your body surrender, sweetheart, there you go.” He coos when you shudder around Bajo with a broken moan, body twitching as Cia moves to bite at your neck, the same time Bajo moves to place yet another bruise to your thigh. “Ó, beag ardaigh, conas is breá linn go bhfaigheann tú teacht slán.”

A few seconds pass before you feel Bajo’s tongue lapping away the excess slick, only this wasn’t a cleanup. No, he was very pointedly warming up to make you come again. You protest with a whine. “One more, pequeña?” Your eyes flicker down to his. “Just one more.” You can handle one more? Surely? You nod once and that’s all he needs to delve back into your heat with a loud noise of content when he has your taste on his tongue again.

It doesn’t take long. You were nine orgasms in and your body was tuned ready for ten. Cia is instantly at your ear, murmuring lowly in a mix of Gaelic and English, slowly coaxing you to the edge. But your body doesn’t seem to want to go over, get you to the double-digit tally that both the boys insist you reach this morning. Cia, for one, is not giving up without a fight. “Come for him, darlin', he wants you to. Can't you see it in his eyes, the way he's begging you to drown him with it?” When you look down, Bajo does indeed look desperate for you to come once more, eyes bright and burning as he moans against your sex, addicted to your taste as his tongue leaves your clit to delve into your wet heat, thumb moving up to take its place. You let out a small whine, eyes not leaving his for a second. “Give in, ailleacht, come for us. Let us carry you over the edge."

That’s all it takes to tip you over the edge, words purred in your ear as your body convulses, a scream leaves your lips as you ride out a near painful orgasm being ripped from your body. You can hear dark chuckles from next to your ear and between your thighs before Cia whispers lowly in your ear, “Sin é, ceann beag, scread dúinn.”

When you come down from your high, your entire body is shaking, you can feel Bajo press gentle kisses down your thighs as he lowers them from his shoulders before he slides up your body until he is hovering over you. To your horror, his face is positively dripping with your slick, his giant shit-eating grin showing you just how pleased he is of that fact. “Buenos dias mariposa.” He greets before moving down to kiss you fully on your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue before he not-so-gracefully falls to your other side, bringing you in close as Cia follows, the same look on his face.

“Maidin, álainn.” He purrs. You snuggle into his chest, Bajo’s forehead pressed against the base of your neck as he curls around you.

“I hate you both.”

“No you don’t.”

You let out a huff of air in annoyance when, yet again, Cia was right. But only just. “I’m never sleeping in this room again.” They both laugh because, again, they both know it's not true. “I’m sleepy.”

“Go to sleep, querida.” Bajo murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss wherever he can place them. You can hear them both say something to you, but it’s all muffled as you slowly drift back to sleep in their arms.

~~~~~

Choosing to sleep in Bajo’s bed was always an open invitation for him to spend the entire night with his face wrapped between your thighs. You always chose your nights with Bajo carefully because of that fact.

Tonight, you felt like you just needed to be with him. You had all gone out to dinner and it was a rare case where everything was just a disaster. Orders were wrong, food was cold or just gross, wine was corked, everything that could have gone did go wrong. Bajo was a bit sour as it was his choice of restaurant and it had clearly gone downhill since the last time he went there for a meal. So, to soothe his upset self, you changed plans of sharing a bed with Bee to spend the night with Bajo.

As you expected, you barely got through the doors before you were thrown on the bed, shirt and bra having been ripped off in the hallway, and he was crawling up between your thighs, pulling down your pants and panties in one smooth, quick motion. You move your thighs to rest on his shoulders as he glides his tongue down your calf, over your knee, down your inner thigh before moving to lick a stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste. “Finally.” He says, eyes flickering up to look at you. “Some good fucking food.”

That was it. You instantly unwrap yourself from him and move to the side, holding your sides as you laugh. “Nope. Sex is off. You did not just say that.” You can practically feel his pout as he slides up the bed to press his hands into the mattress, one either side of your head as he waits for the giggles to subside, eyes warm as he watches your amused face with a smile before moving in to kiss you deeply.

“Let me have my dinner?” He asks when he pulls back, causing you to giggle again.

“I can’t take you seriously now, Bajo.” You shake your head. “If you’re lucky, you can have me for breakfast again.” He hrumphs as he moves to lay next to you on the bed, pulling you close so his entire body is pressed up against you.

“Te amo, mi pequeña mariposa.” He says quietly against your skin.

“I love you too, you dumb fucking himbo.” You tease, laughing when he growls and bites down on your shoulder as a warning. Damn, this boy be feral and bitey.

The next morning, you weren’t surprised at all to feel him slide down your body, sending a wink your way when he notices you’re up as he positions himself, ready to absolutely devour you.

Misc Scene That Didn’t Quite Make It:

The first time Bajo went down on you, it was like a religious experience. It was a lazy Sunday with just the two of you in the smoking room when he got a glint in his eye and slowly slid out from under you and between your thighs. At first, you thought he was just going to mark you up a little again, his favourite place to be when the six of you snuggling is, after all, on top of your thighs and you never left without a minimum of six bite marks. But, it wasn’t until he was pulling away your panties with his teeth did you realise his end game.

You are certain he spent hours with his mouth glued to your pussy, as if he was trying to print the taste into his memory and sear the spots that made you cry out into his brain. He brought you to the edge over and over, pulling back when he felt you were close to watch you squirm and glare at him, nipping at your thighs whenever you protest.

When he finally let you come, you swear you saw stars. Your body arches as you scream, mostly in relief, hand having been weaved in his hair for at least an hour and a half by now pulling at his roots as it clenches, hips moving up to rock against his face as he drinks in everything you have to offer him. Your body finally laxes into the leather seat beneath you as you try to catch your breath when Bajo’s lips are suddenly against yours, hands-on your spread knees as his tongue works its way into your mouth so you can taste yourself mixed with him. When he pulls back, you can’t help it.

Slowly, you raise your hands to clap causing him to chuckle. “Wow.” 

He does a few small bows from his place on his knees between your legs. “Thank you, thank you! I’d like to think of myself as a humble man- ow!” He swats your hand away as you smack him across the back of the head with a laugh.

“You’re such a twit.”

“You love me.”

“Do I though?”

“Yes.” You roll your eyes at his cocky answer. “So…. did you enjoy yourself up there, dulce?” He asks with a grin.

“No Bajo, I had an awful time.” You sass causing him to laugh as he moves to nip at your thigh again as a playful warning. “Any chance for an encore?” You ask cheekily as his eyes flash, a giant smirk appearing on his face.

“For you? Of course, mi amor.”

[heli0s-writes]

Moving Night

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: The three of you finally move out! But now you are very tired and very cranky. A/N: 4 of ?? Snapshots between you, Steve, and Bucky. In the same canon as Mystery of Love– check it out first :)

The last of the boxes have been unpacked, made quick work of under the determined hands of Steve and impatient hands of Bucky. It is midnight and Bucky is ripping apart cardboard and piling them by the corner of the entranceway. Steve is arranging dishes into cabinets with quiet clunks and careful precision, handling the ceramic ware as lightly as he can.

After another shelf has been stuffed full, he stands back to inspect his handiwork.

“What do you think about this arrangement?” He asks, completely serious.

You are splayed out on the newly mopped hardwood floor dramatically, arms outstretched, legs bent, as if you are a murder victim about to be traced be chalk. Steve and Bucky both have chosen to ignore you for the past fifteen minutes, letting you be because they know better than to encourage you.

“Beautiful.” You announce, cheek pressed to the floor. “Fantastic. Wonderful. Amazing. What a configuration of wine glasses and mugs.”

Bucky snorts in the distance and Steve only rolls his eyes, “I’m serious!” He scolds.

“Let’s go to go bed!” You whine in return, kicking your legs and planting your sock-covered feet until you are spinning slowly in a wide circle with your head and shoulder as the center point. It’s rare for you to be such a brat, but you are dead-tired and hate unpacking. The sheer amount of brainpower it takes to visualize where everything goes and how makes you pessimistic and limp.

The last two apartments you moved into, you were living a minimalist Marie-Kondo type of life, with your camera as your only prized possession. Since then, you have accumulated more clothing, more dishes, more towels, more of everything because there are two other people involved and they both are very specific when it comes to their needs.

Bucky needs so many pairs of socks. Steve needs house-shoes. Bucky needs throw blankets. Steve needs all of his books. They both love houseplants and handheld shower heads and locally sourced coffee beans and what the hell are wool dryer balls, Steve?

Naturally, the boxes piled on until they were way over your head and taking up all the space in the living room. You could no longer visualize where anything went along with when oh when will this be all put away?

“Honey, will ya help me out?” Steve grumbles from the kitchen as he sorts through cleaning supplies. “We decided to move into our own place, so now we need to—“

“Yeah, yeah. We need to make it feel like a home.” You reply, shutting your eyes. When you open them again, the overhead light is blocked because Bucky is hovering over you with a feline smirk.

“Is baby feeling tired?” He teases, “Strong girl, you carried so many boxes today.”

You roll your eyes because compared to them, the boxes you carried were featherweight and while they continued unpacking all you have done is put things in the upstairs bathroom and fixed a space for you to get ready in the morning. Most of the clothes had been sorted into the right closets, but upon seeing the still half-full living room of packed away objects downstairs, you grew exhausted.

Bucky leans down until he’s on his knees and gives you an upside-down kiss, tasting of the slightest hint of salt from his sweat. It didn’t help that the move was made in August when the sun seemed to be the hottest regardless of whether or not it’s true. It had been a terribly scorching day. “Just another hour, dollface, until Steve’s ready.”

You frown. “He won’t be ready until it’s all finished.”

From the kitchen, a drawer shuts before Steve appears, shirt sleeves rolled all the way up over his shoulders and hands on his hips. “What was that?” He asks with a raised brow.

“Stevie, honey,” You sigh, “My darling, my sunshine…” Bucky sits back and shakes his head; you are laying it on thick. “My golden lion, my Hercules and—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” They both say in unison to the way your mouth curls up into a smirk. One more second and you would have turned raunchy— listing the ways he’s well endowed like a god, too.

“I wanna go to sleep!” You say petulantly, “It’s almost two and we’ve been up since six and I know you two are big, strong, super boys, but I am tired! If I had any energy left at all, I’d help but I don’t!” You turn uselessly, side to side.

Bucky is more prone to letting you have your way, so he shrugs before looking up to Steve who sighs deeply, letting his head roll back. “You are so spoiled.”

Your eyelids flutter as you chew on your lip, doing your best impression of a timid little girl under his scrutiny. Even your hands clasp together, and you flex them straight down, pulling your shoulders up to rest your cheek on.

Steve sighs with a tiny smirk.

A smile breaks across your face, proudly displaying your teeth as you squeal and sit up quickly. In a snap, you launch yourself onto Steve’s torso and wrap your legs around him. 

“Yes!” Then, you pepper kisses all over his face and down his neck and your hands lift the back of his shirt up, fingers digging into his muscles. “Thank you! Love you, love you, love—“

“Why, honey,” Steve mumbles under your mouth as another kiss lands on his lips, “You’ve suddenly got so much energy for someone so tired.”

And you wilt once more, like a flower trampled under the searing blaze of summer sun. “One more box?” He asks, sending Bucky an impish wink.

“No! More! Boxes! Just! Go! To! Bed!” You beat your fists on his chest and thrash against his hips until you run out of breath and slump against him. “What?” you ask when his grip tightens.

Bucky puts his arm around Steve’s shoulders and peers at you. “Nice job, baby. Smart way to distract him.”

“You want to go to bed?” Steve mumbles, licking his lips. You feel it then, against your center, Steve growing stiff and large. From your tantrum in his arms, you’ve rocked all over him in just the right way. “I’ll take you to bed.” He puffs into your ear, “I’ll take you to bed, alright. ‘m gonna get you real tired, baby.”

Bucky is laughing now, cackling at the way you lean back and let your arms hang like boiled noodles to your side. One of Steve’s arms braces your spine while the other one curls around your bottom under your thigh. No, you are actually tired now. It’s almost two, and you have genuinely tuckered yourself out by violently flailing. Your last fucking braincell is counting sheep branded with red and white stars.

Steve’s last braincell seems to be in between his legs. “Bucky, please.” You moan, “Save me.”

“I’ll volunteer as tribute.” Bucky shrugs nonchalantly and you dramatically put the back of your hand over your forehead while Steve walks your flaccid body upstairs.

“Oh, thank you kind sir. Steve, did you hear that? Bucky’s gonna take my place. So brave.”

With one eye, you peek up at him as a smirk grows over his face.

“Uh-huh. Sure, honey. We’ll see how long this little act of yours lasts when I get my mouth on ‘im.”

Your body bounces off the mattress and you grunt a little, tugging the sheet over your body and turn on your side. Your eyelids are so heavy and dull, neck and shoulders aching, not to mention your poor feet from standing up all day.

A shirt gets tossed on your face and you swat it away in irritation before another one lands in the same place. You pull the cover over your head, determined to endure them and pull through your mission of getting rest.  

Someone’s palm lands on someone else with a sharp thwack. Throaty chuckles arise before being smothered by a groaning mouth. Tongues touch and lips smack lewdly. And then, good fucking lord, the bed starts to rock as two voices pant and purr in unison.

“Fuck yes,” Bucky laughs, “Goddamn it, you’re so good.”

Butterflies are whipping around in your stomach. Steve is slurping and sucking noisily, and they both are exchanging husky breaths full of praise about who’s mouth is softer until they are both groaning into each other. You are desperately trying to count sheep but the images in your head are turning the sheep into naked little caricatures of your men, running at you instead.

“Oh, fuck you two!” You exclaim, angrily yanking the sheet down.

They are both lying on their sides, wrapped under the comforter up to their necks, as if you’ve stumbled in on them merely relaxing. No hair is misplaced on Steve nor Bucky’s head, and they look completely unruffled and serene, quirking their eyebrows at you on the edge of the mattress, fuming to yourself.

“You okay?” Bucky asks, face contorted in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re not going to sleep, baby?” Steve prompts, tilting his head.

You scramble out of the sheet and throw yourself on top of Steve, tearing the blanket off and then shoving two fingers into Bucky’s chest, twisting the ever-loving fuck out of his nipple. “Teach me a fuckin’ lesson, here’s what I have to say to that.” You snap before doing the same to Steve. They both yelp in pain and cover themselves, shocked that you would be so rough.

Then, you cross your arms and huff. “Lesson learned, boys. Now,” you narrow your eyes at them, “I’m going to sleep.”

[nctloveclub]

do me a solid

pairing: mark lee x reader

prompt: in which you ask mark to be your fake boyfriend to get your mom off your back, not knowing that mark is utterly in love with you | slight slice of life au & fake dating au

genre: fluff

words: 1.78k yeet

a/n: i decided to write this as bulletpoints rather than paragraphs lmao. also this may be an overused cliche but i love me some fake dating aus owo also not proofread so ignore mistakes ;-;

so,,,,, you and mark are best friends obviously but its funny because you guys met only a couple years ago???

the two of you just clicked and it was like you guys were soulmates

so you and mark had long graduated and decided to move in together !!

your dynamic is so domestic and pure, the two of you are so chill but also so caring towards each other

you have a bad day? you bet your ass mark is there with cuddles and food, asking you if you wanna talk about it

mark feeling stressed? you take him out to get his mind off things, whether it be eating food until you both pass out or just taking a walk and talking about life

regardless of the situation, the two of you always have each other backs and your relationship is so supportive

so when you get a call from your mom asking about your life specifically love life you panic

your mom mentions that she wants to visit and see you !!! her favorite child !!! so when she asks if you have a s/o

you just blurt out that you're dating mark with mark sitting like two feet away from you

you see mark's confused face before walking to your room to finish the conversation with your mom

you dont see but mark's face starts to heat up and hes smiling

hearing you say that you were dating him made his heart go nyooom

but it wasn't under the best circumstances

mark is a blushing mess and is hopelessly in love with his oblivious best friend

mark is interrupted from his thoughts when he sees you coming back into the living room pouting

he rushes up and engulfs you into a hug, "you alright?"

you shake your head no and just mumble "nosy mom problems"

"so is that why you said you were dating me?" mark asks, his heart breaking a bit

you quickly pull away from mark

"yeah, sorry about that." but mark shakes his head saying "it's fine."

"mom is coming to visit and she keeps nagging me about getting a s/o and im just trying to adult !"

mark laughs at your whining and you just playfully punch his shoulder

"mark do me a solid and play along,,,, please,,, im begging you,,, my bestest friend,,,,, the light of my life"

mark laughs at you and nods his head "of course i'll help you,,, what are best friends for?"

you just squeal and then quick peck his cheeks and you laugh at a blushing mark

"but you do owe me a solid." he says and you scoff

"fine i guess."

starting that day the two of you had started talking about how to play off the relationship

you started holding hands more and showing even more affection than you usually do

the two of you have like one brain cell combined so you came up with the story that you just realized that you liked mark in a more than friends way

as you and mark act like a couple mark can't help but just fall for you more

he's happy that he can finally shower you with the love you deserve but he knows that it isn't real

that its only to convince your mom that youre not gonna die alone

mark tries not to dwell on that fact and just tries to make the best of a fake relationship

so when your mom comes to visit for the weekend, you and mark are prepared

the both of you decided that your mom would stay in your room and you would sleep on the couch,,, unbeknownst to your mom

she comes in all excited and she goes to hug you and mark !

when mark takes her bag to your room, your mom brings you aside

"i always knew you and mark would eventually get together, the two of you are so perfect together."

youre kinda shocked at her words but you try not to show it

"how long have you been dating?" she asks and you answer "a couple months"

mark comes back and he sees you blushing like crazy

"your bag is in y/n's room, second door on the left" mark speaks

your mom smiles at him and makes her way to your room

"what happened while i gone?" he asks smirking

you just shake your head ,, "nothing much, just my mom being happy that im in a relationship"

mark just nods at your answer

you, mark, and your mom spend the rest of day together. taking her out to eat and such

night falls and your mom is asleep in your room

you and mark are sitting in the living room watching a movie

your mind was racing, thinking about what your mom said earlier that day

it was weird ,,, what does she mean that she knew the two of you would eventually get together ???

did you and mark act like an actual couple ??? yes

did you really have feelings for mark?

it was weird ,,, the thought of dating mark didn't appall you ,,, it actually made your heart race

the two of you didn't notice but you were holding hands under the blanket, your head leaning on his shoulder

the movie ended and when mark gets up to go to bed you notice the lack of warmth

he moves to kiss your forehead before telling you "goodnight" and going to his room

the both of you feel your heart race and you blush at mark's actions

mark is leaning against his closed door , his hand on his racing heart thinking "oh my gOD i JUST DID THAT"

you cant sleep

the couch was albeit comfy but your thoughts are keeping you awake

the thought of you and mark dating didn't digust you and that scared you

maybe you did have feelings for mark

you get up from the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and you make your way to mark's room

you knock and hear a muffled "come in" before walking in and closing the door behind you

"can't sleep?" he asks first and you nod

mark opens his arms and you plop on the bed next to him

his arms immediately wrap around you and you lay your head against his chest

you feel warm immediately and you can feel yourself start to drift off

"good night y/n." he mumbles

"night mark." you mumble sleepily

you wake up the next morning with your limbs entangled with mark's

you look up and see mark still asleep and you cant help but notice how cute he looks

you press soft kisses on his cheeks

you see mark scrunch his nose before waking up slowly

"what a nice way to wake up." he says, his voice deeper than usual

"shut up, let's make some breakfast." you say, pecking his lips before making your way to the kitchen

you start making breakfast, and mark joins you briefly

you make fun of mark when he makes eggs and he just pouts at you whining to leave him alone

you place the three plates on the dinner table and you soon see your mom enter the living room

"ooh breakfast looks good." she says sitting down at the table

the three of you eat and joke around, your mom telling you that she's gonna leave in the afternoon

when the three of you finish eating mark takes the plates and goes to the sink to do dishes

you go to the bathroom and get ready for the day while your mom goes to talk to mark

mark is washing the plates and silverware while your mom rinses the plates and places them on the drying rack

"you know mark i like you, you make my daughter really happy, but if you do break her heart i will get you." she says, scaring mark a bit

but mark shakes his head,, "i love your daughter too much to break her heart." he says honestly

your mom smiles at his words

when you come back, your mom leaves to get ready and you go hug mark from behind

"what did she do? did she threaten you? oh my god im sorry mark" you whine

mark laughs before turning around and wrapping his arms around your waist

"it's fine y/n,, it was kinda scary but it's fine." he says, kissing your forehead

you smile at his words, letting out a breath of relief

a small silence falls between you, your eyes glancing from his eyes to his lips and his the same

the two of you slowly start to move, mark's lips hovering over yours

a loud sound interrupts the moment, the two of you separating instantly

mark quickly breaks the silence, "im gonna go brush my teeth" he says, his voice cracking at the end

you laugh at his flustered state and go to help your mom get ready to leave

your mom leaves in an hour or two, cutting her visit short

"youre leaving so early" you say, before bringing your mom into a hug

"ah it's fine, i have to get home anyway. ill leave you two alone." she says, making your's and mark's cheeks blushing furiously

"mom" you whine, covering your face with your hands

she shakes her head before bringing mark into a hug

"please take care of her" she says , quiet enough only for mark to hear

"of course"

she pulls away and gives the two of you a smile before making her way out

when the door closes the two of you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding

"im sorry about that mark, shes so blunt." you laugh

mark shakes his head , "nah it's fine,, she's fun to be around,,"

an awkward silence fills the room, the inevitable question in your mind , what happens now?

you break the silence first, "thank you mark , for doing this for me ,,,, i appreciate it so much,,, i dont know how ill make it up to you.."

mark takes your hands in his ,, "this was a pretty big solid y/n ,," he teases

you just groan ,,, "oh my god dont make me clean up after you for a week" you whine

mark just shakes his head,, "i have a different idea in mind,,,"

you just stand there like ,,,, what ,,, is it ,,,,

mark just gives you a cute ass smile "do me a solid and go on a date with me."

you say yes

i hope this wasnt bad feedback is appreciated hehe ^^

[unlockthelore]

how things are

Part 9 of Know-It-All a.k.a the modern AU snippet series that no one asked for. To find other parts of the series, follow the know-it-all tag.

aoi_a#0230 — direct message with elemonate#0820

elemonate wyd

aoi_a you know what im doing yamabuki

elemonate ouch cold not even gonna call me lemon or L??

elemonate cmon don’t leave me on read

elemonate not gonna tell me what that was about back there

elemonate saying you weren’t sure about being nene or amane’s friend?

aoi_a I don’t want to get mixed up in anyone’s relationship drama

elemonate ah yeah, must be hard when you can’t figure out your own

aoi_a excuse me?

elemonate pretty hard to misread text

elemonate might wanna clean those glasses of yours, honors boy

aoi_a if you have something you want to tell me could you come out and say it? reading you beat around the bush is painful

elemonate a ray of sunshine this one is

aoi_a did you just quote yoda??

elemonate you should know me by now aoi

elemonate we did date after all

elemonate and maybe this little thing with nene and amane can open your eyes to why we’re not still dating

elemonate food for thought

aoi_a what is that supposed to mean

aoi_a yamabuki

aoi_a i know that you’re reading these

Akane’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, the unsent message of ‘please talk to me’ backspaced immediately until the insertion point could go no further no matter how hard he tapped the delete key. Pressing the side-button, the screen went dark and he dropped his hand to his side, letting his phone slip out of his grasp and hit the bed with a soft thump.

His breaths were slow and even, the fingers of his other hand curled against the lower half of his stomach, brushing against his navel. An involuntary shudder ricocheting up and down his spine as he shifted against the blankets, heated and sticking to his skin.

His eyes ached from being up for so long and his mouth felt dry. The urge to go get a drink of water was tempered by the thought that his screen would light up. Hopefully with a message from him. An explanation for what he meant. But he doubted it. Yamabuki was infuriating like that. Cryptic. Always cool-headed and detached. But he was so contrite when it pertained to their relationship. His words, sharper and cold, never failed to pierce him deeply.

No matter how much time had passed.

Akane sighed, pressing his hands to his eyes until circles danced in the darkness of his eyelids.

He thought that time was all that he needed. Time was all that they needed. But wounds were messy things, and they didn’t always heal right. If he only had fifteen minutes to undo the stupid mistakes that he made in the past, he would’ve. But within that small fifteen minute time frame of talking to him, he felt like they were further than when they started.

Turning on his side, he pressed his cheek to his pillow and sighed.

Why we’re not still dating.

It was obvious at least to him. Everything went wrong that day with the confession tree. Perhaps he grew tired waiting. Or he just wanted to vent his frustration. Yamabuki didn’t care, tapping away on his cellphone, responding flippantly. And then they were dating.

And now —

Now they weren’t.

He curled his fingers in his shirt, grimacing. It wasn’t as if it hurt so much as that it was confusing. His chest ached but his head was hurting even more. Yamabuki didn’t say much when their relationship ended. Everyone took it as a strange turn of events and things went back to normal. So how did they change?

What was he missing?

Akane’s eyes drifted shut and Yamabuki’s smile was visible even in the darkness. Chills crept up his spine as the smile grew weary, quickly aging before his eyes until it was replaced with a thin-lipped ghost.

Maybe we should break up.

What did he say to him at that time?

Did he refuse?

Did he agree?

It was hard to remember when the memories aged.

And while he didn’t believe he had much in common with Amane, perhaps that’s where their paths crossed. That day, they both hurt someone that they cared about.

A muffled vibration and light filtered from behinds eyelids caught Akane’s attention and his eyes widened. Snatching his phone up, he shot upright and opened up the app.

kannoaoi#0320 — direct message with aoi_a#0230

kannoaoi psst

kannoaoi man with a thousand faces

kannoaoi want to talk for a little bit?

His eyes softened and he sighed. It was only Aoi.

Shaking off that thought, he sat upright. Aoi was texting him this late at night and he should’ve been happy about it. It wasn’t as if she went out of her way to text a lot of people and even the group chat was a rare occurrence. What was he supposed to say?

Glancing at his curtains, they were only pulled back slightly allowing a sliver of moonlight to outline his pillow. She was right there. The girl next door, her window adjacent to his own.

It was romantic at least in a sense.

Like a cliche from a movie.

And yet, for some reason, he almost felt afraid of facing her like this.

aoi_a shouldn’t you be in bed, ao-chan?

kannoaoi long night, exceptions are made

kannoaoi window?

Ordinarily, he would have leapt at the idea of being able to talk to her during the night. It would have been one of his dreams come true. But he didn’t want to. He’d rather lay there and just say that he was heading off to bed. Regardless of whether she could see him or not.

But his fingers stilled, backspacing the message he typed and replacing it with another that his autocorrect finished without him even having to prompt it.

aoi_a it’s always open for you

kannoaoi hmm

kannoaoi four points

Aoi’s window was already open as he opened his own. Her hair, normally done up with two loops framing her face, was hanging loose over her shoulders. She propped her elbow up, resting her chin in hand, curled fingers barely covering the concerned smile she wore.

“You look tired, Akane…”

He huffed, gesturing up toward the night sky. “It is late.”

“Not what I meant,” she said softly, and despite the gentleness of her voice, the words were firm. “And you know it.”

Akane felt his resolve cracking bit by bit and he averted his gaze, staring back into the darkness of his bedroom with downcast eyes. They said nothing for a long while, allowing the distant rumbling cars and whispering winds to fill the silence. Aoi shifted slightly, crossing her arms and resting her chin on them, staring at him appraisingly.

“Did you and Yamabuki-kun have a fight?”

“Makes you think we fought?”

“Mm,” she hummed, rolling her eyes upward. “Subtext…”

Too damn perceptive. Akane sighed, shaking his head. “He just said something ridiculous and I can’t figure it out.” Frustration drained from him and he slumped against the window sill, rubbing his fingers through his hair. “He’s always playing these games and I just…”

Yamabuki’s smile, weathered and greyed, sent dull shocks through his chest and disrupted his train of thought. He would’ve loved to see that smile without the chill following but they weren’t there yet.

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” he muttered defeatedly, tucking his face in the crook of his arm.

He almost wished that Yamabuki would just tell him what it is that he was missing. What did he not know? What were they doing? Where did they go wrong? But a part of him wondered why it is that he cares so much. If Yamabuki wanted to play, that didn’t mean he had to play along. He wasn’t going to be dragged around as if he were the one in the wrong.

Yet that voice.

That same traitorous voice whispered in the back of his mind.

How did he know he wasn’t in the wrong?

“Why did you start dating Yamabuki-kun?” Aoi asked suddenly, startling him out of his thoughts. “Do you remember?”

Lifting his head, he stared at her and she stared back. Her smile, soft and concerned, was gone now replaced with a look that was unreadable as it was alarming. Because he didn’t. No answer came to mind. All he could remember was that day.

The tree.

His confession.

Yamabuki’s nonchalance.

Then later on, they were dating. And it was strange but it was nice and —

Aoi’s unreadable expression shifted and Akane felt a chill running down his spine as she regarded him with a thin-lipped smile. “I don’t think Yamabuki-kun is playing games, he’s giving you clues because you’re missing the point.”

[chikayouriko]

W.I.P tag!

Wip tag! rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and i’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

Tagged by:  @scarlett-holly

Tagging: Any fanfic mutual who wants to do this

This is gonna be a long one,friends. Also,yes i write smut....

Let’s start with everything in my Future AU folder!

Saki’s introduction to the household - Saki is one of the OC kids. This is about her introduction to YouRiko’s household from foster care,but told from Chika’s POV.

Youya tries on his mommy's high school outfits - Touya is an OC kid. Riko’s mom sends Riko her old uniforms and her trans son wants to wear them for fun.

Yuu and Ayumu make a mistake - NSFW YuuPomu set in their late 20′s.

rubyleahmaru: Leah get her shit wrecked - NSFW. set in 2020 via the story’s timeline when they’re 19/20,but im not writing covid-19. it’s my au,my rules.

Now for the rest, in order that i find them on google docs.

Yoshiko unlocks all her colors - YouHaRiko soulmate au

riko makes youhane sing jimoai - NSFW. YouHaRiko. based on a convo with my friend

My Inner MELODY - Setsuna focused longfic. Trans man Setsuna. unsure about a ship

youhariko soulamtes v1? - started off just youhariko but has expanded to a Bigger AU

YouRiko - old from 2017. has Riko committing crimes

10 years after the fall - started on at the end of vol.3. is meant to be like 4 chapters.

Happy birthday kotori! - kotorin. started in 2016 and just ??? forgot about it

The Tango Mari - RENT AU

Puppy You-chan - NSFW. KanaYou/Swimteam forgot this existed...uh

azalea blood moon - NSFW. DiaKanaMaru/AZALEA poly. if you were around when zippy was apart of the fandom....

Not your typical cancer AU(vent fic) - started in 2016. MakiRinPana endgame. scraped the first version

You is Dense(polyprompts prompt) - YouHaRiko.

For [redacted] - meant to be a friend’s birthday or winter holiday gift but never finished it?? 

Diamoric shipping month-22.violet - YouHaRiko

ML OT3 soulmates au - NathAdrienette

ML Angst - i ???

DiaYou sin - NSFW. trans boy You, Nonbinary Dia. meant as continuation of another oneshot of mine

Take me or leave me- RENT AU

parent points-EliUmi adopts Maki 

This is gay - RWBY. Arkos’ Rose.

Happy birthday you gay- is it fanfic if you and your boyfriend self indulging??