#its just a shame you never fully got it while you were with us.

[derxwnakapsyla]

That post really is making the rounds and blew up while I was sleeping, I see.

[prongsx]

Favors in exchange for kisses

warnings: kisses, English its not my first language, small mention of blood. f!reader

1,5 K words

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You don't know exactly how you got into this situation with Jason. But you're not complaining.

It started months ago, when your long-time friend Dick Grayson heard you complaining about not having a place to live and mentioned that he knew someone you could trust to share an apartment with, with his brother, Jason Todd.

You were hesitant to accept, after all, you didn't know Jason Todd, but this was Gotham, and finding someone you could trust to share an apartment with was almost impossible. And it would only be for a while.So you went to live with Dick Grayson's brother.

Jason was kind of quiet, mysterious, and his blue eyes left you a little confused and breathless. It took you a while to be able to have meaningful conversations with him, it was hard to learn more about him, but little by little you won a small space in his life.You discovered his favorite books, learned his schedule, understood how sometimes he didn't want to talk, other times he was more open, and you learned to appreciate those moments when you both talked, laughed and smiled softly.

Then came the biggest problem.

Jason was too helpful.

You simply didn't know how to deal with someone who did so many acts of service. When he found out that banana pancakes were your favorite, he woke up early and cooked them. When you complained about that wood that was making noise in the living room, he fixed it immediately. Even when carrying your bag down the street, he would magically appear and hold it. Your coffee was always with those three drops of milk, just the way you liked it.

And when you tried to reciprocate, he seemed almost offended. Like the time you made a big meal, he was offended, you seemed tired from the effort and he didn't like that. Even when you cleaned his things he seemed irritated, you weren't supposed to do things for him.

After months of looking for ways to thank him for his helpfulness, you discovered it in an unusual way. Your room wasn't fully furnished, even months after moving in you were still buying furniture and needing to assemble it. Jason dismissed all the delivery people from the store and said he would assemble it himself, using the excuse that he didn't like strangers in his space.

"You spoil me," you joked with him, sitting on the floor as you watched Jason working on your new vanity. It wasn't a bad sight, Jason's large hands proving skillful and efficient, his t-shirt revealing his biceps that made you a little dizzy.

"I find doing manual labor relaxing." He replied, glancing at you and smiling slightly. You hummed in response, resting your chin on your knees and admiring Jason. You wanted so badly to find something to thank him for, something to show him that you were grateful for him.

When he finally finished the job, he stood up and held out his hand to help you. After gaining momentum, your hands instinctively went to his arm and gave it a squeeze.

"Thank you so much, Jay."

He was silent, you were silent. It seemed too intimate a touch, you were nervous, afraid he wouldn't like it, that he would ask you to never touch him again, which would be a shame because your hands could feel the heat of his skin. Then he smiled. He smiled, a dimple in his cheek.

"Nothing, princess."

After that, the touches became more frequent. Every time he did something adorable, you would touch his arms or his hand. Like the time he carried all your college books for meters and you held his hand in thanks (you stayed like that for longer than usual).

Another big step was when you arrived tired, from a horrible day, and you found Jason smiling shyly at you, the apartment smelling of your favorite food. As you washed dishes side by side, your hips touching, you lifted your feet and kissed his cheek, whispering a thank you. His reaction was adorable, his neck slightly red, his eyes blinking at you in a silly way that made you smile back.

So you continued, becoming a little bolder every time he did something to please you. It seemed impossible now to go back to the time when you didn't touch him, and you could swear he liked it. There were times when you could almost feel him sigh when your kiss on his cheek went all the way to his jaw.

When he came back from patrol, bruised and bleeding, he wouldn't let you help him. He would never dirty your soft hands with his blood. But he enjoyed it when you sat next to him, stroking his hair and talking to him in that calm tone, trying to make him relax with more pleasant conversations. A routine was established.

Jason was a little quiet sometimes. At first you thought he was grumpy and moody, but you soon discovered that he was just someone with poor social skills, and you managed to establish a way to show that you cared about each other.

"Hum, I stopped by the pharmacy, but your order had already been picked up." You jumped, startled by Jason's sudden arrival. For such a big guy, he had an impressive ability to be silent. Damn Batman training.

"Jay, hi." You greeted, as you leaned on the kitchen counter, casually scrolling through your phone. "Dick got it for me, he was just passing by."

He fell silent, making you look up from your phone to look at him. Jason's eyebrows were furrowed, his lips forming a frown.

"Why?" You blinked slowly.

"Why what?"

"Why Dick got it for you. I was going to get it for you." He looked almost... annoyed, frustrated that he hadn't gotten the product for you.

You blinked slowly again, tilting your head.

"He...was closer. I didn't mean to bother you."

He let out a huff, looking annoyed, like when a dog sees his owner reading a newspaper another dog brought.

"Jay?" You called out to him, almost shivering when his blue orbs stared at you.

"I'm the one who does your things. Why is that idiot Dick getting involved?"

"I don't want you to feel like you're my employee, that's all."

He huffed again, looking indignant. Another problem with Jason Todd: he didn't say what he was feeling, it was like trying to win the lottery with blurry numbers. Then he approached you, his posture looking like he was preparing to interrogate a criminal, his hands resting on the counter.

"Did you kiss him?"It certainly wasn't what you expected to hear. Your mouth fell open, your eyes wide.

"What?"

It was the only intelligent thing your lips formed.Jason still had that indignant look on his face, his blue eyes half-closed. He was too close and you felt a little cornered, the kitchen seemed small, the air harder to breathe. You stared back at him.

"Why do you think I kissed Dick?" You repeated, still that confused expression. You would be offended if your brain was working perfectly.

"You kiss me when I do favors for you!" He murmurs.

Oh. That was it.

You let out a breath, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

"Jason. Do you think I kiss the mailman every time he brings letters?"

"God, I hope not."

You both stay silent, your hands going to the hem of his shirt, unable to control yourself, squeezing it between your fingers, the weight of the unspoken words.

"Jay. You know...you don't have to do me favors to receive my affection, right?" You whispered, your eyes roaming all over his face, his beautiful features, his slightly crooked nose, his lips that looked so kissable.

"But I like it. I like taking care of you. Fuck, I want to take care of you always."

He himself seemed shocked by the intensity of the words, his eyes widening, his heart beating out of control, just like yours.

"Jay." You let out a breath, your hands rising to his face, caressing his cheekbones. You shivered when his hands held your hips, keeping you firmly against the counter. You didn't know what it would be like to kiss Jason, of course, you had already thought about it a lot, more than was healthy.

And when you finally pulled his face to you, pressing your lips, slightly chapped but still soft, against his. You dominated the kiss for a few seconds, being gentle as you held his face, but then something seemed to snap in Jason, he held you with impressive ease, pressing your hips against the counter and thrusting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your soft moan. His hands were all over your body, hungry, as if he couldn't lose you.

"Only I can take care of you," he growled against your lips, his breathing heavy.

"Yes. yes," you said, caught in the haze of Jason's kisses, your eyes almost closing again.

"Good," he whispered, before kissing you again, fiercely, his hands gripping the back of your neck.

You were fine with this deal of favors in exchange for kisses.

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Inspired by a post I saw about Jason's love languages headcanon. Jaybean is just a guy who doesn't know how to show love in a normal way!!! But we love him anyway. I hope you liked it! I'm very happy to start posting things here, slowly gaining courage.

[obx-paradise]

this is a request!!! can you do the ending of s4 but instead of kie its reader and how she is affected by this through time

More Time

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Pogue!reader

Synopsis: You come to learn that even after the high, you gotta come back down at some point and face reality

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: season 4 pt. 2 SPOILERS, angst, use of y/n, mentions of death, unedited

A/n: I started this as soon as you sent it in. Tell me why I actually love it? Anyway, I hope it's what you wanted!! Keep sending in requests.

~~~

Time was a funny thing. Two minutes ago you were on a high. The plan was to get the Blue Crown, capture Groff, and get back home as soon as possible. Now you were running from Dalia and her crew, trying not to get shot. 

JJ pulled you by your arm, doing his best to guide you both through the sandstorm. “Run, run, run! Come on, we gotta find the others!” he yelled.

You could barely see through the goggles you had on and the wind was so loud you couldn’t hear. When you and JJ came to a fork in the road, you decided to take the lead and go to the right, “I think it’s this way!” you said before you ran off, thinking he would follow.

You made it to a little section of the building where the sand and wind wouldn’t reach as much. Turning around, you saw that JJ wasn’t behind you. “JJ!” you shouted in panic but before you could shout again you were grabbed from behind.

You felt an arm go around the front of your neck, keeping you from escaping. “Shh! Quiet!” It was Groff. You knew you couldn’t trust him. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see he was holding a knife. The sight made you whimper out of fear. “Shut up!”

You had to get JJ’s attention. “JJ!” There was no way you were going to die like this after everything. You could hear him yell out for you, “Y/n!”

A second later, you saw his tall figure run into the room you were standing in. You let out a sharp gasp as Groff tightened the grip he had on you.

“You let her go!” You hadn’t been that scared in a while but knowing that your boyfriend could potentially watch you die in a few minutes scared you. 

“You know what I want…” Groff said glancing at the Crown in JJ’s hand. “Give it to me!”

“Just… let her go,” his voice was calm but you could see that he was panicked. JJ didn’t want to give up the Crown, you were way more important, but the Crown would help him get his house and his business back. The one thing he wouldn’t be able to get back was you.

With Groff standing there with you, JJ knew he had no choice.  “You could’ve stuck with me, JJ. Think of what you could’ve had. But now you… you get nothing.” 

“No. I already have everything. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.” JJ’s eyes softened as he looked at you, “Things that you’ll never have. You want the crown? Sure, take it.” He said as he held out the Crown, “Take it. I don’t want it. Just…let her go.”

Groff took his offer and loosened his grip on you but didn’t let you go fully. He kept his right arm around your throat and stretched out his left arm to reach for the crown. JJ slowly extended both arms. One with the crown and the other to reach for you. In a split second, you were released from Groff’s grip and practically jumped towards JJ. 

“I got you,” You were breathing heavily trying to catch your breath as best as you could. “It’s okay,” You took a second to look into his eyes before he pulled you into the tightest hug. “Thank you” You would stay in his arms forever if you could. 

But of course, Groff had to ruin the moment.

“JJ…”

JJ let go of you and turned around to face Groff. He was angry about everything he had done up to this point. You stood behind them watching their interaction. 

“It’s a shame…You and me.” Groff spoke

Suddenly the sound of JJ’s gasp fills your ears. You didn’t know what had happened until you looked down to see Groff’s hand on the side of JJ’s abdomen. He had stabbed his own son.

“You should have given me… the rope.” were Groff’s last words before he pulled the knife out and fled the scene.

JJ fell back into your arms, clutching his stomach with his left hand. His legs gave out and he fell back taking you with him. You didn’t believe it. His dying body was right in front of your eyes and you couldn’t believe it.

“No, no, no” You whispered trying to keep calm even though it was clear you were panicking. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay”

You looked down at his stomach and moved his hands so you could get a better look. “Let me see it,” The sight made you wince. You had never been good with blood or wounds but this was different. It was JJ, the love of your life, so if you needed to stop the bleeding you were going to. 

You lifted your head to look at his face and saw that he was staring at his wound. You needed him to focus on you and not think about potentially dying. “Hey, hey, hey… hey, look at me” 

His head stayed down.

“JJ, I need you to look at me” He finally fixed his eyes on you and you could see the pain in them. They were ready to close.

“Baby…” he whispered and just then you could tell

He’s accepted it.

“You are not dying. Okay? You’re not-” 

“Y/n…” It hurt to speak, but he had to get your attention

“I’ll go… find the others and…we’ll get you some help and then we’ll go home and you’ll be fine. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Nothing about this is fine.

“I never told you my wish.” he stuttered out

“What? No, JJ, it’s okay.”

He continued anyway, “I already got it… I already got my wish… I got everything I wanted.” He shifted his body, trying to sit up a bit higher but he let out a groan at the pain.

“No, no, no… Stay with me, please”

Seeing him in pain was the worst form of torture. You couldn’t bear it. You sobbed, tears running down your face as he grabbed onto your left arm, squeezing it to grab your attention once again.

“Hey… take care of the others. Okay?”

“No. No. Fuck that, that’s not what this is. You’re not dying.”

His eyes were already fluttering, ready to close for good. 

Before he spoke, he used up all his strength to lift his hand, slip off his favorite ring, and place it on your left ring finger.

“I wanted to do that sooner, but I left the ring at home. I love you, Y/n”

Your heart wanted to explode for 2 entirely different reasons. “I love you too. I- I love you so much.”

You watched as his eyes shut for the last time, his body taking its last breath. “Please, no, no, no, no. No!”

Your hands reached for his face as you realized that he was gone. Forever. 

“No! JJ, please! Please wake up! Please!” you exclaimed, shaking his body as if it would bring him back.

“John B! Pope! Anyone, please help! JJ, you gotta wake up baby!” 

You were begging at this point, desperate to hear his voice, his laugh, see his smile, just one last time. You cried for him. For the shitty life he had been dealt. All the shit he’d gone through just for it to end like this.

He lost his mother, he had a shitty father and somehow gained an ever worse one, he’d been abused, physically, mentally, and verbally, for 20 years of his life. The only good things he had were his best friends and you.

You were his rock. His safe place. He went to you with every scar, every scrape, every bruise. You’ve seen it all and you’ve made it better every time. But this time, you couldn’t save him. There was nothing you could do.

All your friends came running in at the sound of your cries but you paid no attention to them. You were focused on JJ. Somehow hoping he would let out a big gasp and say, “Gotcha! Hahaha, you should’ve seen your face!” 

It would’ve been a shitty prank but anything was better than him actually being dead. 

JJ was your best friend out of all of them. He made you laugh and he made you cry. He made you happy whenever he would come home and smother you in kisses “Just ‘cuz” he’d say with a smile on his face. He made you angry whenever he would do something reckless like get into a fight, steal things, or destroy public property. 

But you loved him through it all because he was your person.

You refused to leave his side. Sarah, Kie, and Cleo had to practically drag you away from your boyfriend’s— fiance’s dead body. 

John B and the group talked about burying him in the sand by the beach since that was his favorite place.

“It's not,” you muttered

The group turned to see you sitting in a corner but barely paying attention.“What?”

“The beach isn’t his favorite place. I am. That’s what he used to tell me. That I’m his “home”. Wherever I go, he goes–” You spoke with a very monotone voice. Not having the energy after screaming and crying like you did. “ –and I think he deserves more than a lousy burial on the beach. He should be buried at home, maybe next to his mom. At least somewhere where I can visit him. Not across the world in Africa where I’ll never be able to see him again.”

They were silent for a bit before Pope spoke up, “Y/n, we completely understand. Trust me, but we have no way of getting home right now, and we can’t just hold onto his body until we find one.”

“I just don’t think it's right. He deserves so much better.”

“I know, but there’s nothing we can do.”

You know you weren’t the only one to lose him. His best friends lost him too, but you still thought the idea was fucked up. You all ended up burying him on the beach anyway.

Pope was right about having no way to get home. The 7 of you sat around a fire. Everyone was quiet. It had been like that for hours, no one wanted to talk. Except for Rafe. 

“Groff said he’s going to Lisbon. I don’t know, if it was my friend, I’d probably go after the guy that just killed him. Yeah?”

“Shut up, Rafe” Pope muttered

You watched Groff kill JJ. Of course, you wanted him dead. It would feel even better if you were the one to do it.

“He’s not wrong.” you sided with Rafe, “You think JJ would sit here if it were one of us? You think he’d do nothing? No, he’d get even. He would fight for any one of us. So that’s what we're gonna do for him…” 

You paused, looking around at the others before continuing, “We’re gonna get revenge.”

[bucksangel]

Honeysuckle

pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au pt. 3

word count: 4k

summary: “Honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.

or - your Alphas take such good care of you. their mere presence brightens up your day, so when your Alphas have a rough day you take it upon yourself to show them how good of an Omega you can be, that you can provide for them too.

warnings: 18+, mild suggestive thoughts, i apologize to ur dentists bc there’s so much fluff it might give you a toothache, omega is very shy and awkward but steve and bucky are fond and patient, fluff, kissing, tw for steve using 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, bucky needs some lovin’

a/n: this is dedicated to the loml @buckysbarne and @buckysprettybaby who also helped beta <3

milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar

“Babe -“ Bucky sighs, his head hanging low and hands clenched into tight fists. “I’ll be okay.”

Steve huffs, walking up to his boyfriend and wrapping one arm around his Alphas waist, cupping his cheek with his other hand.

“It’s okay, she’ll understand,” Steve whispers softly, leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss on his mate’s forehead before pulling back and guiding Bucky to look up at him. He quickly dips his head to kiss Bucky’s lips.

“What if she doesn’t?” Bucky mumbles, shame and embarrassment flooding his body.

Why can’t he just be normal?

The day started horribly; Bucky woke up at around seven in the morning from a particularly harrowing nightmare. He hasn’t had one of those in a while, so it was very unwelcoming. This one, unlike other nightmares he’s had, was terrifying in a way he’d never felt.

He knows they’re gone, that Hydra and its agents have been obliterated, but that doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t occasionally get anxious over the ‘what ifs’ of any potential harm Steve could go through should Hydra get him.

This ‘what if’ manifested in the form of you getting captured too. Even if he and Steve haven’t mated with you yet, they both know in their bones that you were crafted by any gods that exist to complete them. And the thought of you and Steve getting taken from him is far worse than anything Hydra could ever do to him.

Steve had to shake him awake, and he hadn’t been able to stop crying long enough to explain what had happened. After ten minutes of shaking and sobbing into his mate’s chest, he was finally able to articulate the horrifying images that now plague his mind, Steve had held him close, and he had kissed his cheeks and forehead and hairline, all while cooing words of affirmation and love.

The day only got worse from there. After the dream, it started with small things; he burned his hand while trying to make coffee - then spilled the coffee all over his favorite shirt. He ran out of his shampoo and had to use Steve’s - and, listen, Bucky is fully convinced that he survived Hydra because the universe wanted them together again, but Steve could definitely use some better shower products. The whole ‘two-in-one’ thing just doesn’t cut it for Bucky.

But then they had to meet up with their teammates for a briefing over a mission that Bucky is really not excited about, and found out the original one-day mission was going to be three days. Three whole days without you? Luckily Steve is coming with him, but then he thought about you being without both of them and started getting anxious. Now, even though you all haven’t been together for long, and they both know you can handle yourself, they detest the idea of leaving you for an extended period.

They’d managed to sneak in a few texts to you. Wishing you a good day at work, sending heart emojis when you send them a picture of a cute dog you saw while walking to the studio - Sam and Natasha spent a long time trying to get the men to understand modern language - and sending you pictures of them while they were too bored to listen to Tony talk.

But then they went to a coffee shop intending to grab their coffee and rush back to their apartment to get a few things so they could pick you up from work and take you to the new ice cream shop that opened up a few blocks from your studio. Dark clouds came rushing overhead while they were waiting for their drinks, and they decided to wait out the storm in a corner booth.

But people were staring, giving them - mainly Bucky - nervous glances, and a few people at the table next to them ate quicker than someone usually would and then placed a wad of cash on the table before rushing out.

Suddenly the idea of getting ice cream doesn’t sound so appealing.

Steve noticed because he’s so attuned to his mate that he knows Bucky is dejected, Bucky is hurt, he’s tired. Tired of people still judging him. Tired of being accused of things that he had no control over. They didn’t stay long, deciding that getting soaked while racing home was better than being in a place that’s now making Bucky feel unsafe.

Bucky’s been fighting with himself ever since they got home and changed out of their wet clothes. He wants to spend time with you more than anything, and you’ve been excited about this date ever since they told you, and Bucky will be damned if he doesn’t give you anything you want. But he really doesn’t think he can handle being in public right now.

His body is hurting with how bad he’s trying to force the negativity out of his mind enough so he can enjoy being with you, but it’s hard. And Steve telling him that you’ll understand that he can’t go out breaks him. His fists clench tighter.

Bucky wants to be normal for you. He wants to go out with his mates and not get worried about getting less-than-friendly looks at the three of you.

“I’m going to call her,” Steve says calmly, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him in tight while Bucky’s body starts to shake with how badly he wants to cry. “I’ll call her and I’ll tell her that you’re not feeling well, but we’ll go to her studio tomorrow for lunch. Okay?”

Bucky takes a deep, shaky breath before nodding, trying his hardest to not blame himself when he imagines the look on your face as Steve tells you they have to cancel. Steve kisses his mate's forehead and then untangles himself so he can get his phone.

It doesn’t take long for you to answer, and Bucky can hear your chipper “Hi Stevie!” and suddenly he wants to cry harder. He also hears Steve telling you that Bucky isn’t feeling well and that they’ll come visit you tomorrow. You go quiet for a moment before asking Steve to pass the phone to your other Alpha. And when Bucky mumbles, “Hey, honey,” he knows you can hear that he’s holding back tears.

“Hi, Alpha,” Your sweet voice immediately fills him with warmth, images of your smile filling his head. “You’re not feeling well?”

“No,” Bucky clears his throat, trying to force himself to not feel bad about it. “I’m really sorry, honey. I promise we’ll make it up to you.”

You pause, and suddenly Bucky is worried that you’re mad. But before his mind can spiral into more negative thoughts, your voice - soft and shy - asks if he’s home. And when he tells you that he is, you simply say “good,” and then hang up.

Well, fuck. Bucky tries to convince himself that you’re not upset, but Steve can see that it’s not working well. And at his boyfriend's suggestion of a nap, he trudges upstairs, lying down in bed and wishing upon every star in the universe that you’ll forgive him.

____________

When you heard that Bucky wasn’t feeling well you immediately thought of the worst. Is he sick? Well, that doesn’t make sense, he’s a super soldier after all. Is he hurt? That’s a possibility, their jobs are tough.

Does he… not want to see you? As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you dismiss it. Bucky and Steve have shown over and over that they like you and want to be with you. The word ‘love’ flashes through your mind but you dismiss that as well. It’s too soon, right?

No matter what’s actually going on, you know you need to make him feel better. As soon as you hung up the phone you gathered everything you needed to make apple pies. But then you faltered, what if he doesn’t like apple pie? Well, you have things to make brownies, and you know both Alphas love them. So you took out everything needed to make brownies with the intention of bringing them over when they were done.

But then a thought popped up. Would they even want you in their house? There were a few times when you told them they could come inside your apartment while you finished getting ready for a date night, but they politely declined. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now you’re worried you might be crossing a line.

You’ve just put the mixture in the oven when you decide that you’ll just drop them off and then leave. You don’t want to make them uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well. While the brownies cook, you run to your bedroom to change into somewhat presentable clothes. You don’t bother getting all dressed up since you’re not going anywhere but your Alphas’ place, and even then you won’t be staying long.

By the time the dessert is done and put into a container, you’ve talked yourself in and out of going several times. Finally, after several minutes of having a mild freak-out, you gather the courage to gather your things and get in your car.

The entire drive has you a little on edge, though you know you have to do it. Not necessarily out of obligation, but because you want to make your Alpha’s happy. They’re always doing little things for you; buying you new plush blankets, getting you food on their way to visit your studio, Steve had even given you a sweater that both he and Bucky regularly wear - fully knowing and hoping you’ll use it for your nest.

Those men make you happier than anyone else ever could, you relish in their praise, your whole body lit up in flames whenever they get all sweet on you - which is all the time, neither man can resist kissing you, hugging you, telling you how you’re the sweetest Omega to ever exist.

They make you happy, and you will do everything you can to make them happy too. You want to be the perfect Omega for them, to show them that you can provide for them too, and that thought is what fuels you to park outside of their house and gather everything.

Your confidence wanes when you get to the front door, anxious again that the Alphas would be upset that you came over. You don’t even get a chance to think about leaving because the door opens wide, and Steve stands there with a smile.

“Honey,” He says, giving you that same longing gaze he always gives you. His eyes travel down to the container you’re holding, his smile growing wider while you cast your eyes down to the floor nervously. “What is that?”

A part of you wants to laugh, you know his heightened sense of smell can already figure it out. You don’t though, you merely shuffle on the porch nervously.

“W-Well I - um… I know Bucky isn’t feeling well, and I wanted to drop off some brownies for you guys.” Your eyes suddenly go wide, a small panicked noise leaving your lips. “Which I just now realized is probably not a good thing for Bucky to eat right now.”

You kind of want to smack your forehead. You were so focused on trying to be helpful that you didn’t even think of what would actually help Bucky feel better. Sensing your growing panic, Steve hums softly, reaching out and taking the dessert from your hands.

“That’s really sweet, honey,” Steve purrs, transferring the container to one hand so he can take your hand in his free one. “Thank you.”

An unexpected squeak leaves your lips, warmth filling your body as you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile up at him shyly.

“Y-You’re welcome, Stevie.” Your voice is soft, nearly indiscernible except for your Alpha with his advanced hearing. “Um, just… I guess you can text me later and tell me how they taste?” It’s phrased as an uncertain question because you don’t want to make him feel like he has to, but you desperately hope he does. You need their praise more than air.

“You’re not staying?”

That question has your head snapping up so you can look at him directly, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you take in his equally confused gaze.

“I - um. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you never want to come in my house, so I just figured you wouldn’t want me in yours.” Your voice comes out shakier than you’d like, and the hope that he’d invite you in is creeping up. “Which is fine! You - you don’t have to, and I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well.”

Steve sighs, his scent souring a little as though he’s disappointed, and now you’re anxious over possibly saying something wrong. But when he senses your growing panic, he tugs on your hand until you follow him inside. And immediately, the aroma of both Bucky and Steve’s scent calms you down.

“Of course we want you here, sweet Omega.” Steve smiles at you again, pulling you further into the house until you get to the kitchen not far from the entryway. He drops your hand so he can place the food on the counter. The Alpha quickly moves toward you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you into his chest. Plush, soft lips land on the top of your head, and they linger there for a few moments.

As though he sensed your arrival, Bucky comes rushing into the kitchen with a wide smile.

“Omega,” He says, walking toward you and Steve with purpose so he can wrap around you too.

“Our sweet girl brought us some brownies since you aren’t feeling well.” You can hear the smile in Steve’s voice, and they both release their hold on you so you can turn around and face Bucky.

Bucky goes silent, and when you place your hands on his chest you can feel how his heart rate picks up. And after a few moments of simply staring into your eyes, his smile softens, his body relaxing.

“Oh, honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas’ day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.

“Thank you,” Bucky mumbles into your neck as he presses soft and chaste kisses to the area. “You’re perfect.”

You can’t help the nervous chuckle that passes through your lips, nor can you stop yourself from shaking your head, immediately trying to deny it. While you love praise, specifically theirs, you don’t really feel like you deserve it sometimes. How can these two perfect Alpha’s possibly be interested in you? You’re not too sure why they like you, but you try not to think too hard about it. You don’t want to overthink everything and spiral into self-doubt, which would then lead you to sabotage the relationship, and you absolutely don’t want that.

“I-It’s nothing, really. I just want to make you feel better.” Your voice is small and shy, and you cast your eyes downward when Bucky pulls away from you to look at you with such intensity that it makes your entire body go warm. Your heartbeat speeds up when Steve steps back too and moves so he can stand beside Bucky and look at you directly.

“It’s not nothing, baby,” Steve sighs, reaching out and placing a large hand on the back of your neck and turning your head upwards so he can hold your gaze, and it’s absolutely impossible to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine. Oh, how you want to feel his hands on… other parts of your body.

“It’s thoughtful,” Bucky adds, lightly squeezing your hips. “We mean it; thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” You say softly, smiling at both of them and reaching out to place your hands on each Alpha’s chests. In a quick and bold move, you lean up on your toes to place a gentle kiss on Steve’s lips, then move over to Bucky.

Bucky, however, decides a single peck isn’t enough. Steve keeps his hand on the back of your neck and angles your head so it’s easier for Bucky to slide his tongue along your bottom lip and take advantage of your surprised squeak by slipping his tongue into your mouth. He swallows your little gasps and sighs, snaking his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his.

The intensity of the kiss comes to a halt when Steve’s stomach rumbles. You and Bucky break apart with breathless chuckles, turning to look at Steve’s sheepish expression.

“Sorry,” He laughs, sliding his hand from your neck to the side of your face, and he smiles wider when you nuzzle and kiss his palm. “We haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“I can cook for you!” You say quickly, surprised with yourself by how fast you were to offer. You’re not the best cook, but depending on what food they have you’re pretty sure you whip up something presentable. Plus, your inner Omega is just aching to please them.

“You don’t need to do that, honey,” Bucky says, stepping back but keeping one hand on your back. “We can just order something.”

“Please?” You ask softly, smiling up at him and using the fact that he can never say no to your pout to your advantage. “I want to.”

Both men sigh, fully knowing that they could never deny you anything you want. So, they both nod, stepping aside so you can go to their fridge.

“You can just make something easy, it doesn’t matter to us.” Steve kisses your forehead, then smiles as he turns to look at Bucky while you go about finding something to cook. Pulling him in close, Steve quickly kisses Bucky’s lips and murmurs, “Told ya she’d understand.”

____________

“Told ya she’d understand.”

Steve chuckles when Bucky playfully shoves his elbow into his Alpha’s stomach. And Steve absolutely cannot stop himself from kissing Bucky again. And one more time. He can’t help it though, Bucky was feeling so awful earlier, and seeing his genuine smile and sparkling eyes fills him with happiness.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky mumbles with a playful roll of his eyes, wiggling out of Steve’s hold so he can go sit at the kitchen island. Steve follows him, muttering “jerk�� low under his breath as he sits next to Bucky.

The two men sit side by side, both with love-stricken gazes and twinkling eyes as they watch you flit around the kitchen happily, grabbing things here and there. They aren’t too sure what exactly you’re making, but it starts smelling good in no time. But the underlying scent of happiness coming from all three of you is what really strikes Bucky’s heart.

And in no time at all the food has been finished, and you make sure to pile their plates full of the food.

“I know spaghetti is boring, but I added a few spices so I hope you like it.” Your voice is soft and shy as you present them with their plates, and your rapidly beating heart showcases your nerves. You’re desperately hoping they like it - maybe praise you a bit for taking care of them.

“We’ll love it,” Steve says quickly, getting off the chair and walking up to you with a wide smile. “We’ll love anything you make us, honey.”

The squeak you let out makes both Alphas chuckle, giving you such soft gazes that makes you want to bare your neck to them in submission. With that, Steve and Bucky take their food and guide you to the couch in the living room, being careful as they sit down while Bucky pulls you into his lap.

They take time eating, occasionally feeding you despite your assurances that you already ate before you came over. They don’t care though, because they’ll be damned if they don’t dote on you for making them feel better.

And when the food has been eaten, Bucky gives you a glare when you offer to do dishes. “You’ve worked hard enough, honey,” Bucky tells you, wrapping his arms tighter around you to keep you in place.

It’s at that moment that Bucky realizes that this, the three of you under one roof, on one couch, is what home is for him. With you in his lap and Steve cuddled into his side, he knows that he’s the luckiest guy in the world, how can’t he be? He has his Alpha; the greatest love of his life, and you; the sweetest Omega to ever exist who’s teaching Bucky how to be happy in ways he never thought possible.

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you make a slightly distressed sound, your hands coming up to cup his cheek.

“Buck?” Steve coos, bringing up a hand so he can run his finger through his mate’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky sniffles, shaking his head as he wipes his eyes, then takes hold of one of your hands so he can kiss your knuckles. He smiles, so soft and sweet and innocent, smiling wider when Steve presses a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s stupid,” Bucky says with a quiet huff and shrugs. “I just… Today was shit, like, awful. And I’ve been happy all these years with Steve by my side, but other than right now, the only time I can remember feeling this happy was when I was finally reunited with him.”

Bucky briefly glances over at Steve, giving him that soft and adoring look he always gives him, then looks back at you and holds your gaze.

“You make me happy, Omega.”

Your eyes go wide, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Because, while you don’t know everything about what’s transpired in their lives and relationship, you know that it must be a pretty big deal for him to say this. And it fills you with a feeling dangerously close to love, but you can’t help it. Bucky’s been through the depths of hell and back, and he deserves everything good in the world. And you being able to give him some of that goodness just makes you want to cry.

“You-“ You cut yourself off, clearing your throat to suppress the waver in your voice. “You make me happy too. Both of you.”

“Good, Omega,” Steve purrs, reaching across Bucky to give you a tender kiss.

And when you break away from Steve, you turn to give Bucky a kiss as well, and Bucky? Well, Bucky is pretty sure (re: totally confident) that he loves you. He knows Steve does too, which makes everything easier. Knowing that they’re on the same page about their feelings for you gives him reassurance that maybe this could work out.

He wants to mate with you, he wants to be with you in every way possible. And when you pull away and smile at your Alphas with that sweet and tender way you always do, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, you want that too.

So who can really blame him when Bucky asks, “Will you mate with us?”

From next to him, Steve doesn’t visibly react, though his heartbeat speeding up and the flush creeping up on his face tells Bucky that he wants that too - they’ve also spoken about it in length, so he knows he’s not just speaking for himself.

All the two men can do now is wait for your answer with bated breaths. It comes only a half of a second later.

“Of course.”

m&h masterlist: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @wandaneedstherapy / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @stuckysbike / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @lethargicluv / @perfectlyboring / @monicachic13 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @matchat3a  / @mollygetssherlockcoffee / @normalgirlnextdoor / @lolitsbuckybarnes / @rippedpiece / @biteofcherry

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart

[moneymartin]

okau i know u already did these but can u do more nsfw hcs for nika???

✧.* - smutty nika hcs

warnings: this whole thing is literally smut sooo… 18+

afab!r

a/n: im havin fun with these ngl… if anything is repeated from the og hcs im sorry!!!! got carried away and some of my thoughts r sprinkled around here

MUNCHHHHHH

she gets off on eating you out i swear

nika got a pussy eater jaw too

i think its because you squeeze your thighs around her head

she likes it

i said this the last time but your pleasure matters more to her than her own

100% a titty girl like i can see it

LOVE LOVE LOVESSS THEM

like during sex she’ll cup them any chance she gets

an ass girl too

stares at em in public w no shame and grabs at your butt when she can 😭

veryyy vocal

lots of huffing and puffing when it comes to her

whiner and whimperer when she hears you getting more comfortable abt the noises you’re making

loves when you moan her name don’t even get me started

grunts too fosho

i think she’d talk in croatian too and it turns you AWNNNNNNNN

“ljubavi” “moj anđele” “dušo” “dobra cura”

dirty talks in croatian too but idk how to translate that.

she’d dom half of the time but if you wanna dom she’ll gladly oblige

strap game is crazy

totally does that thing where she teases you really slowly then js plunges into you

😩😩😩😫

never rough unless asked but if she’s angry or upset she’ll go WILLDDDDD

call me crazy but she’d def like it if you bit…

i think she’d be the hardest teaser ever

esp in public.

if you’re really feeling it when you two are out she can tell

its like her superpower

uses it against you too cs she doesn’t wanna let you get it easy

her fingers are running up and down your thighs and shes always getting sooo close it fucks you up every time

she gets you WET w one touch its actually crazy

if you were touch deprived it’d be even worse too like if she brushed her lips up against you and breathed on your skin js a lil you’d FREEAK

freak as in you’d be SOOOOAKKED

please tell me you guys think she’d wanna film sex tapes

JUST FOR YOU TWO ONLY THO

she a secret freak for those

i think arguments would lead into rlly fucking hot angry sex

but she initiates the intimacy first after bc she knows you’re def not gonna be in the mood to do so

honestly it starts w really small touches to the arm while you two yell back and forth

the next thing you know you two are fucking on the kitchen counter 😭

or she has to literally manhandle you onto the bed and fucks you there instead 🥸

uses the strap durin that too u can’t tell me otherwise

i think if you got really horny in public out of nowhere she’d take care of it for you IMMEDIATELYYYY

the family restrooms.

or the car

CAR SEX IS HER THINGGGGG ALSO

you guys could be in the car while on a roadtrip and she’ll find a way to sneak a hand onto you to make you feel good 🤫

def eats you out in the backseat too

say its your first time

definitely takes it as slowwww as you need her to be

offers to just use her hands or something first so that you get used to it

but if you wanna like go rlly far for the first time she’ll do it for sure as long as you’re comfy

she loves when you touch her abs it turns her on 😫

makes you ride em for sure cs she fucking loves when they’re glistening in your cum

makes you lick it up CLEAN after too w your tongue

WOW WHATS WRONG WITH ME OMG

she’s a switch

power bottom and soft dom

super slow when she tops you

but she lovesss when you’re riding her strap too its her fav thing next to the ab riding

ouhhhh she loves eye contact

her eyes r so beautiful like

they get all predatory when she’s fucking you its so sexy

also when she gives you the fuck me eyes i think she means it in the opposite way

meaning she wants to fuck you

cowgirl is her fav position don’tttt play

again shes a titty girl

she loves looking at them bounce.

she doesn’t bother to get fully undressed cause it shows she cares more about you

okay im done thanks.

[delulu-is-the-solulu-843]

“Workout” buddies

Abby Anderson x fem reader

Summary: you go the campus gym and can’t help but be distracted by the beautiful woman working out, she seems to be just as distracted as you are.

Warnings: smut, semi public sex, fingering, cursing,strangers to more?

-

You don’t want to admit the rarity at which you use the free campus gym. Sure you’ve used it once or twice before, but who has time to go to the gym? Apparently your new found gym crush does. You hated yourself for staring but how could you not, bulging biceps moving seamlessly with every dumbbell curl she did, her tight black sweat pants clinging to her muscular thighs and ass perfectly. You shamelessly checked her out from your place at the treadmill, as she did bicep curls In front of the full length mirror. Your eyes travelled up her body until her eyes met yours in the mirror.

You fell a small part of you die inside as your face flushes and you look away. You can’t believe you got caught staring, you risk taking another glance hoping she wouldn’t be to mad, but your met with her smirking at you through the mirror. You continue your run on the treadmill looking anywhere but her before you make a bigger fool of yourself.

This is how it went the whole time you move from different machine to different machine but somehow your eyes would always find her. She knew it too, she’d flex harder than necessarily, she’d smirk as you watched the way her muscles rippled under her skin, and she’d wait till you were looking at her to lift the bottom of her tank top to wipe the sweat from her forehead giving you a lovely view of her abs. You can’t help the gasp that leaves your lips. You could the moisture leaving your mouth and quickly going south.

You were getting ready to do deadlifts when the Greek goddess approached you.

“Want a spotter?” Her silky smooth voice asks

And you were happy you weren’t holding the bar yet because you would have surly dropped it.

“Uh yeah that’d be great thanks” you bumbled out

She nodded with a smile as she stood behind you. You could tell her eyes on you, you wiped your sweaty palms on your workout pants before you grabbed the bar.

You did four before you started to struggle. You got the bar upon the fifth one before you really started to struggle before you felt her front flush against your back and her strong hands holding your waist.

“It’s alright I got you” she her voice low against your ear

Your ass was tucked into her pelvis

“Just put it down slow” she guided you

And you slowly dropped the bar breathing heavy

“Good girl” she whispers into your ear

“U-uh thank you, for helping with that i um I’m done for today so I gonna hit the showers thanks again” you awkwardly ramble before rushing off towards the locker room.

You left Abby standing there smirking at your retreating form.

You just had to hurry up and shower then you could leave and forget that ever happened, you thought to yourself as you quickly opened your locker and grabbed your shower bag and towel. You could the wetness between your legs and the way your clit throbbed. You definitely had a date with your vibrator tonight.

You quickly showered and you were now in front of your locker, your towel still wrapped around you.

“I’ve e never seen you here before” a familiar voice speaks out and you jump whipping around with your hand to your chest over your rapidly beating heart

“Sorry” she says with a laugh “I didn’t mean to scare you” it’s the Greek goddess again and now you are fully convinced she is trying to kill you with how she has her muscles on display for your eyes to see. She wore nothing but a black sports bra and black boxers, her wet hair back in its signature braid.

“I don’t come here very often” you answer her question

“Hmm that’s a shame” she pushes off the lockers she leaning against and slowly makes her way to you until she’s in front of you

“I’m gonna miss having an audience” she teases with a little smirk

You blush while opening and closing your mouth trying to find something to say

Her raspy chuckle breaks the silence of the locker room

She moves closer to you until your back is pressed against the lockers and she’s right in front of you, she braces one hand on the locker by your head while the other lifts your chin so your meeting her stormy blue eyes.

She leans down and she’s a hairs length away from your lips, you can feel her breath on her face

“S’ok I was looking too” her voice is low

Your eyes flick down to her lips before meeting her eyes again, you decide to take it into your own hands and you surge forward your lips meeting hers.

It’s a hot and messy kiss, she has you pressed against the lockers and your holding onto her shoulder while your other hand is on the small of her back, trying to pull her even closer to you. Her tongue runs along the seam of your lips, her teeth nip at your bottom lip. When you moan her tongue goes into your mouth and explores when she can reach.

She breaks the kiss and you both catch your breath, your eyes meet hers and your knees almost give out at the look she gives you. Her eyes are dark, the blue irises barely visible around her blown pupils.

You feel her moves you towel and you feel her warm hand on your thigh

“This okay?” She asks as she kisses your jaw

You nod

“Use your words baby” she tells you as she nips at your neck

“Y-yes please” you breathe out

“Good girl” she mumbles against your neck as her fingers trail up your thigh to your wet core

She runs her fingers through your slit and groans at the slick she finds there

“Fuck your so wet, gonna have to be quick. Don’t want anyone to walk in” she tells you as she starts to circle your clit with her fingers.

You whimper and grab onto her arm, feeling the the muscles move under your hand just floods your center even more. She kisses and nips at your neck and her fingers move down to your hole.

She slowly fucks one finger into you savoring the way your velvety wet wall feel around her.

She adds a second finger and curls them hitting your sweet spot and you have to bite your lip to prevent the moan that wants to come out.

She sets a quick pace, her fingers fuck into you while her palm rubs against your clit. Your hips rock with every movement seeking the friction your body is begging for.

All that can be heard throughout the locker room was the squelch of your wet pussy, your quiet whimpers, and Abby’s breathing.

“Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well.” She praises and she feels your wall flutter around her fingers

She smirks as she kisses the marks she’s made on your neck

You could feel the coil getting ready to snap, she could feel how close your were with how your pussy was clenching her finger

“Let go for me baby, cum on my fingers”she tells you and you feels the coil snap

She kisses you and you moan into her mouth. Your back arches off of the lockers and your nails dig into her shoulder. She grunts into the kiss and slows down her movements helping you ride out your orgasm.

She breaks the kiss and kisses your forehead before she takes her fingers out of you. She licks your juices off of her fingers before she quickly gets dressed. You stay leaning against the lockers eyes closed and catching your breath after probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had. When you finally caught your breath and opened your eyes.

The Greek goddess had just finished getting dressed and left the locker room with a wink.

You were about to call out to her when others started to enter the locker room. You quickly get dressed and you’re about to leave when you noticed a piece of paper on the bench closest to her locker. You quickly grab it and read it as you leave.

(XXX)XXX-XXXX

Give me a call. Next time I won’t have to be so quick.

-Abby

[simonisferal]

cry — scara x gn! reader

"maybe i'd change for you someday, but i can't help the way i feel." — cigarettes after sex

reader is oblivious, friend zoning, mentions of making out/sex (hickeys, scratches, 'his first'), angst with its own version of comfort, no feelings revealed, one-sided pining

part two of dance with me

you woke up in the morning with a huge headache.

the bed was cold and you felt as if someone else was in there with you. it unnerved you. the pillows were messed with, the blanket was fully laid on you, and the sheets were dirty. what happened last night?

the throb in your head interrupted your thoughts and it forced you to get out of bed and take painkillers. placing your feet on the cold wooden tiles and stepping away from your bed half naked, you groggily walked to the kicthen.

the hallway smelled like beer and tequila, maybe that's what you drank that made you so fucked up.

the kitchen was the small as you left it the night before. you knew yourself best and prepared a soft hangover soup. it was cold, of course and you heated it up on the stove before rummaging through drawers for ibuprofen. they were under a packet of batteries and a broken screen protector you promised to use one day.

chugging a glass of water and some pills, you set yourself a bowl. it definitely helped your aching head and nauseousness.

the living room couch was still messy, suppose that's what you get for letting some friends crash at your house. your pair of keys and a unknown wallet were on your coffee table. you tilt your head.

you eyed it as you ate, trying to figure out why it looked so familiar.

you sat up from your chair and walked towards it. it was made of leather, with a cute keychain hanging out of it. it looked like something you'd buy and match, maybe for scaramouche.

...

oh.

scaramouche was at your house. you wonder, did he take you home? did he make sure you didn't do anything stupid at the party? your head hurt thinking about it, you couldn't remember anything past a few beers. that's what you get for being a light drinker.

you open his wallet carefully and watched as small ripped pieces of notebook paper slip out. some of them were written in neat and tidy handwriting while others were in curvise. you shouldn't invade his privacy, especially after he took you back home.

you couldn't resist though. could someone blame you? picking up some pieces from the floor, you noticed a pattern in handwriting. the easy-to-read ones mentioned a romantic interest while the hard-to-read ones had poems on them. they were cute, you suppose. nothing too explicit.

you put them back in his wallet and set the leather back on the table. you'll give it to him when during your visit to his apartment.

taking some soup with you (in case your bestfriend drank too) and wallet, you got in your car and checked the rearview mirror. you had dark marks on your neck and collarbone. you suddenly felt your back hurt, it felt like someone had been clawing on your skin for hours.

what happened to you? you can't put your finger around it. i mean, it's not like scaramouche would let a random stranger do things with you, right? he took you home so he'd know what happen, right? he wasn't drunk so if you did try something, he'd stop you, right..?

you only looked away from the mirror with a frown and glared at the road in front of you.

scaramouche was surprised when he heard a knock on his door. still thinking incoherently, he opened the door. it could've been the doordash he ordered—you never know, but instead it was you.

you had no shame, do you?

you smiled at him and he felt what he felt last night again. no. he was getting ride of whatever feelings he felt for you. he refused to sense any sort of positive thing for you after last night.

"thanks for taking me home, scara." are you serious? did you really think that he took you home or was this a sick prank? scaramouche just glares at you with an unfaltering frown.

"yeah, it.. wasn't a problem." he turns his head. you take that time to look at him, his small features like his eyelashes and small eyebags, his lip piercing that felt familiar for some strange reason, and the big marks on his neck.

you were stupid enough to point them out. "i woke up with those too!"

scaramouche looks back at you with wide eyes and a pink tint on his cheeks. his mouth opened to explain but no sound came out.

"don't worry about them, they go away." he averts his gaze and walks back into his apartment. you follow him in, still curious. you tilt your head, "what are they?"

he freezes in his tracks. you pause when he does and try to see his face from behind. "..scaramouche?"

he gets out of his small trance. he doesn't look at you, only walking further into his abode. he scratches his head. "just some marks from yesterday at the party."

you shouldn't press any further, you think. you let out a sigh and sit down politely on his couch. you set down the soup you brought and looked in your pocket for his wallet. "you left your wallet at my house."

he quickly looks back at you. yep. that was his wallet, the small keychain hanging from it was his, the black leather tied to it was his, and the small paper that slipped onto his floor when you showed him it was his. he takes it from you, harshly, like he was suddenly angry with you.

"did you look through it?" he randomly asks. you stare back at him. telling him the truth would definitely reduce the trust he has in you but he knows when you lie. you hope he excuses it for a hangover. "no, why would i?" your raised eyebrow slightly calms scaramouche down and he shoves his wallet into his pocket where it belongs.

"...good." he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. he looked stressed and bothered by something. was it last night?

"can i ask you something?"

"what?"

you mess around with your fingers. "what... what happened yesterday? at the party, i don't remember anything past a few drinks." he looks down at you. he wasn't mad, or sad, or anything. that's what he wanted, right? for his first kiss to forget, for his first to be forgotten.

he hesitates. he didn't want to lie to you but he couldn't have you knowing more than what he thought you needed to. "you asked me to dance." he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

"did we?"

"yeah.. we did."

you look up at him, smiling and he cursed himself for falling in love with you. you were stupid. he was stupid. love is stupid. everything was stupid. you did stupid things and he encourage those stupid things. maybe you were the problem, or maybe he was. he already knew the answer but didn't dare to think it or say it out loud.

"was i a good dancer?" scaramouche snorts, actually looking at you with a grin. "you were horrible." he teases. you could tell it wasn't true and he could tell you knew.

you laugh and he can't help but wish he told you. told you that he loves you, properly this time. told you that he kissed you—you kissed him. told you how your tongues melted with each other's. told you how good you made him feel. told you how long he's waited to have you in his arms or him in yours.

but he can't.

"... you're a good friend." he says. his eyes falter and he puts his hands in his pockets. you grin.

"you think so?"

he nods slowly. "the best."

[ccieatchildren]

A Dance, Darling?

TW: Noncon Kissing, Implied Kidnapping, Almost Panic Attack, Intimate Whumper, Forced Relationship

Whumpee brought their fingers up to rest on the rubies encircling their neck. It was not as extravagant as they had expected from him, but it was still hefty enough to feel each individual jewel press into their flesh, a constant reminder on their skin.

Leaving the necklace alone, disturbed by what it represented, their eyes travelled up to their face in the mirror. Their makeup was all red. Lipstick, eyeliner, eyeshadow, each a dark shade that could only be accomplished by Whumper mixing some of their own blood into the cosmetics. They shuddered at the memory of the experience.

Whumpee groaned as he made another cut on their back, pressing the clear vial under the opening. The blood prickled their skin as it made its path down into the small jar.

Whumper brushed his lips against their neck, “we have to make sure you look your best.” He pressed on each side of the wound, drawing out more of the scarlet substance. The flow of red now rushed into the container. 

They sobbed, while Whumper watched in fascination.

Underneath the bandages, their spine pulsated at the memory, and they could feel the beginning barbs of phantom pain. Whumpee shook their head, freeing themself from the thought. 

Moving along, their gaze moved further up to their hair. Whumper had asked– told– them to put the small red jewel feathers he gave them in between the locks. In any other situation, Whumpee quite enjoyed the look of them in their hair, it was as if their hair was a flower sporting red leaves, but here, their image was immediately soured by who gave them to them.

They frowned. Another chain.

Their hands moved down to follow the curve of their dress. It was a deep crimson, matching their makeup and jewellery, and flowed down to their ankles. A hole was cut out at their chest, causing Whumpee to scrunch up their nose in distaste. It was shoulderless with a high slit on their right side, showing off their leg and the scars that adorned it. 

Whumpee hated it.

They were not very used to wearing dresses in the first place. They would thought it beautiful on someone else, but it felt foreign on their own skin. It complemented their figure too well, emphasizing their chest, hips, and waist in a way that made them feel like a piece of meat on display. The slit showed much more skin than they were comfortable with and Whumpee was paranoid that they would accidentally flash someone. They kept tugging the fabric down, but there was nothing more for it to do. Whumper’s intent with the dress was clear. Flaunt the prized lamb he bought in the auction. 

However, they would prefer the objectification over the reason he actually chose this dress for them. 

Easier access.

It made them nauseous. Their fingers itched to rip and tear the dress off themself. Strip themself of the shame and fear.

Whumpee slammed their hands onto the sink, pulling their attention away from their apprehension and resentment. In, out. In, out. In… Out… Drawing in each breath worked to ease their misgivings. A technique Whumpee relied heavily on throughout their time here. Inhaling fresh air, exhaling all theirworries. 

A few seconds and Whumpee was back to their original state. 

Not normal, not calm. But manageable. Never fully calm again.

Their eyes drooped down to the final piece tying their ensemble together, the gold band that encircled their left ring finger. Part of them enjoyed covering up the scar from his teeth, hiding how they were now permanently tied to him. The other part of them knew this was just a fancier shackle. A more obvious cuff for the public eye.

They fiddled with the ring, twisting it back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. God, they just wanted to throw it out the window and watch as it got lost to the city forever. 

They slowly pulled the bond up their finger, only thoughts of release and escape bouncing around their head.

“Do you like it?” 

Whumpee whipped their head around to see Whumper standing in the doorway. They shoved the ring back down.

He had pushed his hair back for once, the fluffy black locks smothered under a layer of gel. His suit was black, as was his tie, which were accompanied by a red vest and button up, matching their dress perfectly. He still wore the same three earrings, now pairing with their own red drops. Whumper had taken off his glasses, presumably switching them for contacts, emphasizing his dark lashes and ruby eyes.

He looked them up and down, unabashedly ogling, before finally settling on their face. “You look absolutely gorgeous, dear. Red looks nice on you.” 

“I prefer blue.”

Whumper’s lips twitched. “Are you ready? Best not to be late.” He swiftly turned around, ignoring the obvious last ditch attempt to rile him up, grabbing his keys and heading to the door. Whumpee trailed behind, already dreading the party.

————

The bright lights of the venue were the first thing to assault Whumpee’s eyes. They stepped out of the vehicle, admiring the show of excessive wealth, jumping at the slam behind them. Whumper tittered at their reaction; he had closed the car door behind them, chivalrous, as always.

Whumpee turned to glare at him, unamused. He initially looked surprised at their outward frustration toward him, before smiling once again.

Whumper offered them his elbow, red eyes boring into them, and Whumpee was quick to accept the proposal. “Off we go, my love.” Handing the keys off to the valet, he walked into the large building, practically dragging Whumpee with him.

It was an open ballroom, filled with people mingling, the low hum of talking almost overpowering the small orchestra playing music in the corner. It was decorated with an abundance of gold and white, adding to the affluent and lavish vibe. The middle of the room was open for couples who wanted to dance, the sides filled with tables holding various hors d'oeuvres and desserts. At the very end was a stage covered in balloons and banners, where the host would most likely give their toast.

Whumpee cringed at the overwhelming amount of people in the room. They had never been that much of a fan of parties, but now, their usual anxiety seemed to have increased tenfold. Their skin itched as if everyone was staring at them, checking them out, assessing their worth, finding their weaknesses. It reminded them of the tense stillness before a fight, not a party. The wounds across their back and stomach throbbed, their ever present pain intensifying, and making Whumpee even more self conscious. 

What if they could see them? What would they do then? Would they help them or find it amusing? What would Whumper do? 

This was too much. They couldn’t do this. Couldn’t pretend everything was fine. They needed to get out of here.

Panic crawled up their spine, and Whumpee slightly pulled away from Whumper, hoping to escape. But his grip was firm, and they were stuck pressed into him. Whumper’s body shook with light laughter at their alarm, peering down at them. Upon seeing their expression, however, he twitched.

Whumper pulled them even closer to him, “want to go back home, darling?” His eyes were softer than usual and his face contorted into a small frown, “do all the people frighten you?”

Whumpee nodded vigorously, pressing themself closer to him, trying to appeal to his affection for them.

Whumper placed his free hand on their cheek, and Whumpee nuzzled further into him. “Don’t worry, I’m here.” He seemed to think for a few seconds, watching them carefully, before his lips widened into a sharp smile. “As much as I would love to go back home with you,” he mockingly placed a hand over his chest, “and it truly does make me elated that you consider me your home now,” Whumpee flinched, recognizing their mistake, trying to draw back away from him, “but,” he wouldn’t let them go, “we prettied you for this. We can’t go before you meet everyone and indulge in the festivities. Can’t have it all go to waste, now can we?” He tutted at them.

Whumper continued to stare at them before they realized he wanted an answer. Whumpee slowly shook their head, accepting defeat, slumping down into themself.

Whumper patted their cheek before pulling back. “Kaip geras. Now let’s go, I already see someone I want to introduce you to.”

He pulled them along further into the room, and Whumpee took a deep breath, hoping, but failing, to prepare themself for the night to come.

————

The next hour or so was filled with Whumpee standing docilely next to Whumper, a smile plastered on their face while he spoke to everyone who came to greet him. 

It was the same thing over and over again. A name they wouldn’t remember, faces that blurred together, shallow compliments about their outfit, and, the worst of all, congratulations to the happy couple. 

Whumper keened at all the flattery, especially those of their dress and jewelry, making sure to pipe in that he was the one that purchased them for them, and, as they were expected to follow along, Whumpee thanked him for the “generous” gift from a loving fiancé. He always managed to squeeze in a kiss for the presents, tilting their head up and drawing Whumpee in whenever they expressed their gratitude. This only delighted the other guests, amused at the young couple’s public show of affection.

It was torture. 

Now Whumpee, thankfully, had finally gotten a small break from Whumper flaunting them off, standing on the sidelines and trying to drown their worries into a small flute of champagne. 

Never too far, Whumper was in the corner conversing with what they could only assume to be potential buyers, and, though he wasn’t facing them, Whumpee could still feel the ever present weight of his eyes watching them, making sure they didn’t run. As unnerving as it was, Whumpee preferred it over his stifling presence bearing down next to them. 

The hero scanned the room as their mind drifted. They could try to get help from the other people here, but Whumpee didn’t foresee much success through those routes. They recognized half the guests from files back in their old office, and those who weren’t publicly villains were most likely not much better either. 

However, even if they weren’t in the same circles as Whumper, what could Whumpee say that would convince them of their situation. Their last stunt as a hero left them humiliated and discredited; they looked crazy to the public eye. Someone who had lost their way and needed the guidance of some pristine charitable schmuck who graciously sacrificed themselves to help them. In the end, it would be their words against his, and no one would believe them. 

And on the small, small chance they did… Whumpee shivered at what Whumper would do to keep them with him, how he would take revenge for their defiance. They knew it wouldn’t just stop at them, and, as much as they despised it, the hero in them couldn’t let that happen.

As always, he had the upper hand. 

They were taken out of their musings by a gloved hand appearing in their line of sight, too deep in thought to notice Whumper had finished his conversation.

“Join me for a dance, mylimasis?” An award winning smile was plastered on his face, amusement obvious as he played the part of a perfect gentleman. Whumpee grimaced at the irony. 

Seeing no way out of it, Whumpee cautiously placed their hand in his, their trepidation bringing a small chuckle out of the man. Whumper gently brought them to the dance floor, joined by other couples who wished to sway with their partners. Whumpee brought their arms around his neck as he encircled their waist, skin crawling where he touched them. 

Whumper rocked them side to side at a slow pace, calming just by watching them. Whumpee scrutinized him, trying to understand his game; it wasn’t like him to do something so simple without an ulterior motive. 

His fingers started to tap along their waist, following the beat of the music in the background, while he continued to watch them. Whumpee stared back with the same intensity, struggling to smooth their face so they weren’t outright glaring at him. He seemed rather startled at their ‘sudden’ annoyance, eyes widening, before he sheepishly smiled at them. Their face must have slackened in confusion as he relaxed as well, returning to watching them. They continued like that, swaying in the crowd and looking at each other, for a small while. 

Finally, a blush spread across his cheeks, and Whumper quickly turned away. 

He’s like an embarrassed teen. 

They huffed slightly in disbelief, causing Whumper to turn back around at the sound. Realizing the awkwardness, he cleared his throat before asking. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

“Yes.”

He perked up. “Really?”

Whumpee sent him a dry look. Whumper visibly wilted and they scoffed, looking away. Seriously, again?

Letting their anger and frustration get the best of them wasn’t the smartest move, they knew that, but their proximity was putting Whumpee on edge, making them more irritable than usual. 

“You are going to have to get used to this,” Whumper said, breaking the silence. Whumpee turned back, shocked by his now blank face. “I’m tolerating your disrespect because we’re in public, and I recognize this is your first time being away from home in a long time. It makes you nervous, I understand that. But,” his fingers dug into their waist and Whumpee had to suppress a gasp, “when we’re officially wed, you’ll have to join me to these outings frequently as my wife.” He leaned down so their eyes were level, “I will not indulge this pitiful defiance of yours, then.” Whumper straightened back out, looking down at them, always able to make them feel small with just a glance. “So, I recommend you start familiarizing yourself with the appropriate behavior now.”

Fuck.

Whumpee gulped. They had screwed themself over.

Head bowed, Whumpee accepted defeat. It always ended like this, with Whumpee on their knees before Whumper, metaphorically or literally. They had no response other than to let themself be pulled every which way by Whumper.

Now pressed up against his chest, Whumper and Whumpee swayed as more and more partners made their way to the dance floor.

Leaning down once more, Whumper supplied their companion with more information. “Get ready, brangusis, it’s about to get fun.”

Noticing the crowd of couples, the small orchestra shifted into waltz, and everyone moved in sync. 

Whumper brought their clasped hands up and moved his other to their hip, brushing over an old wound. Whumpee harshly sucked in a breath before placing their hand on his shoulder. He commenced the dance, and Whumpee tried their best to keep up.

Step, slide, step, turn. 

Whumpee hyper focussed on their feet, trying to match his movements. They didn’t have much experience with ballroom dancing, having only taken a few classes as a joke with Bestie, and the one time Caretaker tried to teach them, though it hadn’t ended very well. Whumpee smiled at the memory: them and Caretaker a mess of limbs on the floor as Whumpee had slipped and doomed them both to a few more bruises across their body. They had been so out of breath from laughing when they couldn’t untangle themselves from each other. It had been a spur of the moment idea, some stupid thing meant to bring them closer together. It worked.

“Something funny?” 

Whumpee broke out of their reverie, not even realizing they had zoned out. Whumper’s mouth was a hard line, displeasure at not being the center of their attention apparent. 

It irked them how needy he always was. Kidnapping, experimenting, torturing, and assaulting them wasn’t enough?

They mumbled a quiet apology, peeking up at him through their lashes. It worked and Whumper eased with a blush. 

The musicians kept a steady adagio tempo, giving any more couples who wanted to join an extra moment. Whumpee slowly acclimated to the rhythm, matching Whumper’s moments not long after. 

“You were always a quick learner,” he laughed. Whumpee grimaced. 

As they danced, he squeezed and kneaded along their side, curious of their reactions. His fingers pressed into an old bruise and Whumpee staggered. He kept them balanced, yet began a game of finding where else he could push to get a pained response.

They tried to pull away from the pokes and prods, tottering with each failed attempt. They whined when he reached a fresh stitched gash. Whumpee could feel the meager string split under his pressure, spilling blood that wouldn’t be noticed under the crimson of their dress. 

Whumpee startled when their dance faltered for a moment, for once not because of them. They peered up at Whumper, surprised to find dilated eyes trained on their throat. 

“Don’t do that.” He ground out. 

Ah.

Whumpee was more than happy to obey. That train of thought would lead nowhere good for them. 

Screaming in pain would also most likely not bode well with the other guests. Whumpee sighed, nodding and gritting their teeth through his subtle exploration. Their head throbbed. 

The music picked up, pushing them to move even faster. Whumpee already felt dizzy from the quick paced movement, and Whumper’s tight hold over their still healing cuts was not helping. “Smile, love. People are watching.” He purred.

Heeding his warning, Whumpee stretched their mouth into some semblance of a smile, lips twitching from the strain, and kept dancing. Whumper relaxed his grip slightly, pleased with their obedience. 

Step, slide, step, turn.

Just as they were getting used to pushing the pain down to the rhythm, Whumper let go of their waist, spinning them. Whumpee stumbled, but he kept them moving, pulling them back in after they completed a turn. He seamlessly continued their dance, not giving Whumpee a break to get their bearings, delighting in their increasing disorientation. 

Step, slide, step, turn.

He continued to spin Whumpee every few steps, quietly laughing at their mounting nausea. However, each time their expression began to display their discomfort, Whumper would lean down to mutter a reminder of what would happen if they didn’t keep up the facade. His own twisted form of encouragement. 

“I don’t like to share, sweetheart. Those expressions are only for me.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“Many guests are watching us love, don’t disappoint them with your sour countenance. I don’t want them gossiping about how I have an unruly wife.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“You look marvellous when you spin. My pretty little thing. Keep going.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“Your dress makes me want to add more red. How about the blood of everyone here, ęh? Do we want to see?”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“Don’t fall. I’ll get jealous. And we will have to fix that by adding bruises of my own.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

Vomit slithered up their throat. Their eyes burned with the effort to keep it down, despite the writhing of their stomach and the taste of maggots in their mouth.

A particularly fast whirl caused Whumpee to lose their footing, almost bringing them both to the floor. Whumper was quick enough to avoid disaster, but it put them out of sync with the music for several beats. 

“Watch it, Whumpee. You will not ruin this for me.” He said harshly. “Keep slipping and I’ll snip your legs.”

The again didn’t need to be said. 

But, Whumpee was trying their best, except every movement only exacerbated their aches and exhaustion. Their breathing became laboured and their limbs felt heavy, their beaten body unable to keep up with the overexertion. 

They wanted to tap out now. 

Whumpee tried to pull away, releasing his shoulder and stepping out of his grasp, only for his grip on their other hand to constrict. Whumper drew them back in, gracefully spinning them as he did so, and pulling them up against his chest in a flourish. They gasped as he once again agitated their wounds.

“Where are you going zuikutis? We’re not done yet.” He pinned them even closer to him, leaning down to whisper in their ear. “I can hear your heart hammering. Does our dancing make you that excited?” Whumpee tried to pull away, but their efforts were fruitless. Their body was drained and Whumper was holding them too tight. 

They were about to slump against him, give in and let Whumper sway them on the floor, accept whatever punishment he saw fit, but before they could fully relax, he pulled back, placing their arms once again in the position for a waltz. His expression was harsh, “I said we weren’t done yet, mielasis.” Whumpee flinched, eyes shifting to the people outside the dance floor, but he started to move them once more.

Whirling and pulling. Twisting and pulling. Spinning and pulling. Pulling. Pulling. Pulling.

They can’t keep up.

The music seemed to intensify with their panic. Whumpee could hear their pulse pounding in their ears. The sound of their harsh breathing contrasted with Whumper’s controlled ones. The voices at the edge of the room grew. Tapping of shoes on the pristine floor echoed in their head.

Each sound pushed against their skull, battling one another for space in their mind. Whumpee began to wobble more, unsteady feet tripping their partner. Hands clawing at whatever they held. Chest tightening. Vision blurring. Throat closing. Tired. Hot. Dizzy. 

Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. LET GO-

“Breathe, it’s over.”

A hand rubbed soothing circles along their back. Whumpee blinked rapidly, vision and mind slightly clearing. They found themself leaned down, hovering over the floor.

The song had finished. Whumper had dipped them. 

The crowd around them released small whoops and cheers for all the dancers, surrounding the couple with the sharp clap of applause. Whumpee tensed. Whumper hurried to calm them.

“Ramiai, ramiai vargšas.” He slowly pulled them back to their feet. “I see I got carried away. This was too much for you.” Whumper told them softly. “We’ll work on it.”

Whumpee couldn’t process what he was saying, too busy trying to return to the world around them. They were pliant as he led them off the dance floor.

They spent the next few minutes leaning into Whumper as they calmed themself down. If they could think clearly, Whumpee would have pulled away from him long ago, but they simply did not have the mental capacity for hatred or fear right now.

After they reached a more coherent state, he spoke. “I’m going out for a smoke.” Whumpee was still breathless from their dancing, barely able to catch up to what he was telling them. “You don’t have to join me, I know how much you hate it. But,” Whumpee suddenly grabbed their arm, throwing them off balance once more.

“Stay here.” They didn’t think they could anywhere if they wanted to, they were too light headed from dancing. That was probably the point. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes.” 

Whumper examined them a final time, before nodding to himself. He steered Whumpee to a corner, despite their, almost drunken, stumbling. Then, they were on their own. 

They felt the need to cry, the tears pressing against the back of their eyes, but they- they just- it wasn’t working. They couldn’t. Not here. They just needed to focus on their breathing. 

They leaned against the wall, thankful for its cool surface, hoping to steady themself. 

In… Out… 

In… Out…

In… Out… 

Rhythmic breathing slowed their racing heart. Air stopping its fight in their lungs. Muscles no longer protesting as loudly. Whumpee’s body finally calmed from the stress of his waltz. 

They took a few more moments to themself, forehead pressed firmly against the plaster. Just breathing. Mind emptying. Preparing for a few more hours of struggle.

They could do this. 

“Whumpee.” A hand landed on their shoulder, warm and familiar. They jolted, spinning around. They froze once their gaze landed on Caretaker.

Her dress, a fitted corset around her middle that flowed out into a long skirt, was a striking cerulean color that complimented her eyes. There was a large collar that covered from her neck to her shoulder, decorated with sapphires, holding a sheer cape that flowed down to trail behind her. Her makeup used only various shades of blue, highlighting her dark skin. 

They felt their eyes water faintly at the sight of such a familiar face. It had been too long.

“C-Caretaker!” Whumpee cringed at their own voice, simultaneously too rough and too bright. “Wh-what a surprise. It’s been a while.” Whumpee tried to keep their cool. They couldn’t drag her into this, they wouldn’t, no matter how much they might want to.

A whirlwind of emotions flashed through Caretaker’s eyes, too quick for Whumpee to tell what she was feeling, before hardening, anger and determination shining through. “Where were you! I- We kept looking for weeks.” Her gaze saddened slightly, “I- I thought something had happened to you. When you didn’t answer after you went in… I was worried, and then the incident-”

“Well!” Whumpee clapped their hands together, effectively cutting off the woman. “As you can see I’m fine. Didn’t they tell you where I was? My comm broke, nothin’ serious.” They told her carefully. “And, you know I had that vacation lined up,” their lips stretched into a shaky smile. “That’s all. Nothing to get so worked up about!” They laughed. Whumpee hoped their expression was convincing enough.

“But-”

Whumpee sighed. “Look, I know I never reached out-”

“What- Never reached out! I sent you so many messages, you missed all my calls.” That was because Whumper had taken their phone. “You never miss my calls.” Whumpee stiffened. That was very true. They made sure to never miss a call from her again. “Then one day you just told me to stop contacting you completely!” They hadn’t known about that, though Whumpee wasn’t very surprised. 

Caretaker averted her gaze. “D-did I do something wrong? I would’ve left you alone if you had just told me what really happened.” She grabbed Whumpee’s hands. “I just- I-…” The woman paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You’re someone I care deeply about, I thought we were close. I-I needed to make sure you were okay… I’m sorry.” Her body slumped, the rage and conviction seeping out, dropping Whumpee’s hands. All that was left was a tired, worried friend.

As they watched their partner deflate, Whumpee realized something. Here she was, one of the few people willing to look for them, and all Whumpee could do was brush them off. As much as they hated it, however, they were firm in their belief; they would not rope Caretaker into this. It was not safe. They had faith in her ability as a hero, but Whumpee had seen, had experienced, what Whumper could do first hand, and they would not take the risk. They would never forgive themself if something happened to her.

But they would not leave Caretaker with nothing either. 

Whumpee bent down, hoping to console their companion. “No, Caretaker, I-”

“You never introduced me to your lovely acquaintance here, dear.” Whumpee bolted back up, putting as much distance between the two of them as they could. The man now next to them, leaned down, extending a hand to Caretaker while the other wrapped around their waist. “Whumper. Whumpee’s fiance .”

Caretaker’s eyes widened in shock, recognition flashing, before she smoothed her expression out into a smile. “I see! It’s nice to meet you. I’m Caretaker, Whumpee’s friend, their partner.” She took his hand, squeezing tightly. They silently stared off at each other, before Whumper drew his hand back and straightened. “Y’know, Whumpee never mentioned they were dating anyone.” The accusation was clear in her tone.

Whumper’s fingers twitched. “Well, we wanted to keep our relationship a secret. Taking the time to tell everyone would be a hassle if we weren’t sure. And you know how annoying those pesky reporters can be.” The arm around their hips tightened slightly, a warning. “Right, Whumpee?”

Whumpee straightened, trying to school their face into that of a happily engaged person. “Y-Yes- yes, of course. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. A-as you can see,” they waved in his direction, “this was also part of why I took that time off.”

Don’t ask more. Do not ask more. Please.

“Huh… Then, when you set the wedding date do tell me Whumpee. I would love to come.” 

Whumper twitched again, his eyes darkening. “When we do, I’ll be sure you are the first one to know.” He shifted, turning slightly, planning to drag Whumpee off with him. “Now, there are-”

“Oh!” She grabbed Whumpee’s arm to stop them. Whumper glared at the offending limb, and Whumpee could practically see the violence run through his brain. “One more thing,” Caretaker’s smile became strained and her eyes narrowed. “Whumpee, when do you plan on getting back to work? I know you said you were taking a vacation, a very important one at that, but all vacations end, right? You’re very important to the agency, and the boss is starting to get worried. You’ll have to come back soon, you know how they get-” 

Whumper cut in, pulling them out of her grasp, not giving Whumpee a chance to speak, composure slipping. “No.” He glared down at Caretaker, who stiffened and glared back in response, fists at her sides. Whumper cleared his throat. “Now if you’ll excuse us, there are more introductions Whumpee and I must make. Come along, darling.” 

Whumper bent down, cupping Whumpee’s face and smashing their lips together. Instinctively, their hands went up to rest on his chest, neither pushing away nor pulling closer. The acrid tang of smoke invaded their nostrils and the sour taste of tobacco stuck to their tongue. Their eyes scrunched close, they didn’t want to do this in front of Caretaker. Whumper felt their resistance, tightening his arm painfully until they finally kissed back, instead wrapping their arms around his neck. 

Just sell it.

Whumpee felt Whumper instantly soften at their touch, as always, relaxing into the kiss. He kept them there together for another few seconds before they broke for air. 

When they turned to look at Caretaker, her face was filled with horror. Her arms were limp at her sides and she gawked at them with dread. Whumper smirked, a cat who got his cream, before turning and taking Whumpee along with him, the arm around their middle again a vice. 

While they walked away, Whumpee turned their head one last time to look at Caretaker, silently pleading that she didn’t pry even further. Caretaker nodded, hands once again fists, with determination in her eyes. 

Whumpee didn’t think that Caretaker understood what they were asking her to do. 

This wouldn’t end well.

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 8 Review

‼️SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER‼️

Warning(s): unhinged behavior, fat shaming, unnecessary use of foul language, watch me pulverize a bag of expired chicken trash, aurora slander, no one is safe, cyberbullying at its finest ✨

I never thought I would have laughed at the beginning of this chapter.

Like I legit goofed off when I read it no joke.

We come back to Amalia and the beginning of her “fight” against the professional clowns and fatty is telling trophy daughter to get away.

No, come closer Aurora. For once, be an independent woman and don’t listen to your father. You got this honey, get A LOT closer 🥰🥰🥰

Oh my gosh, and she did!

She actually got closer! Good for you, Aurora, you’re such a good girl!

Eyo what.

I did not just hear this bitch say “I won’t run away”. Did I hear that right?

This is coming from the cunt who ran away from HER HUSBAND’S PEOPLE’S FUCKING WAR who’s saying that??

This is coming from the blue-skinned mc fry chicken-looking ass who listened to her daddy tell he to run away from a war but disobeys him when he tells her to not fight another woman?

Aurora.

You’d rather disobey your daddy to fight an experienced adventurous heroine but you’d listen to him when he tells you to flee from a war you were supposed to stay in?

This bitch is clinically slow.

Please lord, let this be a foreshadowing that she’ll actually die when she fights Amalia. 🙏🙏

And then you got her DUMB ASS turning into a Temu version of Echo saying:

Man, SHUT YOUR STUPID MICKEY ASS UP BITCH THOUGHT SHE WAS THE SHIT TALKING LIKE THAT‼️‼️‼️‼️

WHERE WERE YOU WHEN THEY NEEDED THAT ENERGY DURING THE WAR?!??

HOE THOUGHT IT WAS QUIRKY TO ACT UP LIKE THIS‼️‼️ AS IF IT WAS FUCKING APPROPRIATE ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

THIS U?

Nah. Amalia cook her up.

Fry her up into that McDonald’s Angus sandwich they took out from the menu AND LEMME EAT THAT SHIT RIGHT AFTER IT-

Literally what the fuck is wrong with this blue hoe. She uses her anger like that towards Amalia but not when it’s necessary???

How?? How does she think like that?

She did not do shit during the war and ran away because she said she was pregnant and did not want to fight and yet here she is saying she’s ready to brawl with Amalia while being pregnant. This doesn’t do shit for her cuz this is just implying that she was fully capable of defending the sadidas during the war!!

WHAT??????

AURORA WHAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD TALK LIKE THAT, YOU ONLY LOOK EVEN WORSE‼️‼️

Aurora is yapping as if she can efficiently win this.

Meanwhile, you got Amalia over here, who fought straight-up divinities: she fought against Harebourg, an infamous demigod xelor before he ran away, damaged Jiva's hands, the month protector of Javian, was able to momentarily restrain Oropo, a demigod copy of Yugo, managed to beat Black Bump, the demigod feca, by partnering up with Yugo, and stood her ground against a freaking necrome (a necrome is not a divinity but it technically stays "alive" for eternity).

Aurora has no brain cells, doesn't watch what the hell she's saying more than half the time, has no experience in battle, her pregnancy is the only thing relevant about her, lies for the sake of lying, and has a hideous bird transformation.

Because let's talk about it.

This might just be the ugliest bird transformation I have ever seen in my life. It’s not even pretty at all. Look at how her fingers turn into vulture claws and those feathers just sprouting out of her shoulders and arms.

Echo did it far better than her because her transformation was actually elegant and sublime. Meanwhile, you got Aurora’s slow-ass vulture transformation where she looks like she’s about to take a shit in that panel. Her head is lowered down, her face is hiding behind her hair, her body is shaking, her shoulders going back, and her hands trembling, yeah she’s definitely shitting herself just to do this transformation. Even Efrim’s paws are cuter CUZ HERS LOOK LIKE CHICKEN/VULTURE FEET.

ECHO COME BACK THIS BITCH IS RUINING YOUR FLOW‼️‼️‼️

Also, when you say: “It’s time we put her in her place”, who’s “we”??? You and your dad??? You think that fatty can fight back? Just a second ago, he was telling you to stay back and was sweating like a pig, so again, tf you mean “we”???

Woman thought she ate saying “iT’s TImE ThAT We PuT hEr iN HeR pLaCe” go sit your ass down, you couldn’t even fight against A THUNDER STRIKE. That thunder wasn’t even from the Eliatrope goddess, it was literally just nature that kicked your ass by touching your furry finger.

And that’s the worst part of it. It didn’t even touch your whole body. It touched the edge of your fucking fingers and you immediately dramatically fell like a bird’s white shit.

She’s such a clown omg…

This ain’t even funny anymore. She really thought she was on the same level as Amalia.

Even fucking Eva could take on Aurora while being pregnant, cuz unlike that blue-skinned brat, Eva was able to defend herself against a sram demigoddess AND escape from a pandawa demigod WHILE BEING MUCH FURTHER IN HER PREGNANCY THAN AURORA.

Tot, please for the love of god turn Aurora into a soufflé before the sadidas cause a rebellion French style with the guillotine when they find out she’s actual trash.

Aurora is literally that one jujutsu kaisen meme where they go “Nah, I’d win.” 💀💀💀

Our boss queen Amalia immediately picked up on her bullshit and sensed her coming from a mile away even when she was “going fast” while flying.

And this is literally one of the best krosmoz manga shots of Amalia ready to fucking destroy this worthless excuse of an osamodas.

I swear no matter how many times I keep seeing this panel, my heart wants to pull itself out of my chest, screaming, getting on adrenaline. Amalia’s just so perfect, I wanna be her and kick that chicken-legged braindead woman so badly 😫😫

But sadly, we’re going to have to wait for the next chapter to see this “fight”. I’m calling it like that cuz I bet my whole bank account that it’s just gonna be Amalia pummelling Aurora repeatedly, ain’t no way that blue hoe can actually fight after the shit I saw in Season 4.

And I hope that’s the case because we can see Aurora looking like she’s struggling on the cover of Chapter 9.

She looks enraged and flying fast towards Amalia perhaps. But she definitely looks furious and whenever she looks mad, we all now know it’s always because she’s losing or not getting something she wants.

So yes, Amalia, destroy this wench.

Meanwhile, Yugo’s tasting what hell feels like and my god that crater looks even bigger when we get close up…

What I especially loved about this chapter, was that we finally got another interaction between Yugo and Adamaï, this time more personal and something that felt like their dynamic from Season 2. It’s sad to know that their bond won’t be the same as it was before even when they have finally reunited and forgiven each other.

But this scene gave me hope that their brotherly bond has not entirely been washed away from the years of being apart.

Adamaï still cares for him a great deal and Season 4 was able to show it. And this chapter did the same thing.

This is heartbreaking too look at.

Yugo’s face when he hears him say that, is the look of realization, you can tell his heart just squeezed at his words.

It’s been so long since Adamaï told him these words. He didn’t even say them in Season 4 when they were both reconciling.

Adamaï actually had a really good idea to solve this issue. A temporary solution if you will. Since they’re both primordial twins of the Eliatrope goddess, it was very clever of him to deduce that they should both share the pain of the belladone poison!

Ad can actually impress us when he wants to damn…

Yugo refuses at first but realizes that since they don’t have any other options, he accepts.

(*i just now realized how big Adamaï’s hands looked in this shot. Damn. Imagine getting choked by that-*)

This whole scene, I genuinely felt the bond they used to share back in Seasons 1 and 2. The way Yugo completely relies on Adamaï for any decision that they make together and Adamaï being the one who highlights the issue at hand before coming up with a solution for the both of them.

And ngl, it actually felt very refreshing to see this change.

And here’s the shot guys.

This is the shot we’ve been waiting to see ever since that damn great wave webtoon trailer came out!!

I like how some of us collectively agreed that this was the moment where Yugo created the wave but I’m so happy it wasn’t the case. Because if it did happen like this, the timing would have felt way too forced and rushed. Now I’m just happy Yugo won’t have to cough up blood all the damn time (even tho I like that idea so much cuz Yugo suffering is something i KNOW we all want cuz god zammnn-) because he’ll actually be able to be balanced and stable for now.

Now that the link has been made, Adamaï lets Yugo know that they should move somewhere else to not cause any other damage to the kingdom which is another great idea (Adamaï’s all fired up with good ideas today lol)

ARE THEY IN SPACE?!!?!?!!

LITERALLY SLOW DOWN, YOU GUYS ARE ZIGZAGGING EVERYWHERE WAIT-

I believe there is a way to find a cure for the Belladone poison. Based on what I found, the poison doesn’t seem to have any remedy since it’s such a deadly substance to drink but I believe they could be able to find something that could potentially help Yugo and Adamaï get rid of it from their systems.

For example, the same thing happened to Amalia back in Season 1. Not only did she get bit by a demonic rose known to have been created to hurt Jiva, one of the month protectors of the world of twelve, but she ended up being fine once the others found a cure for the flower.

Granted, the flower and the belladone have two distinct differences that separate them on their severity level : A) The demonic rose is a flower while the belladone is a berry. B) The demonic rose is a deadly flower that, once touched, can kill you in under a day while the belladone, once eaten, can kill you in under a few seconds. It can even damage your skin if you hold one for too long.

Even so, it doesn’t change the fact that if an infamous red flower that has impacted a divinity can be cured, then so can the belladone.

These two are pure morons.

It doesn’t matter when or where they are, they’ll still smirk and come up with dumb jokes even when they’re in pain like this.

Adamaï’s over here treating this like “training”. I have no idea if he said that to lighten the mood when he realized they were somewhat stable now that they shared the pain or if it was just because he genuinely tested this like training to see if they could withstand the pain together.

Either way, they’re both idiots and brothers for life. Brothers who smile even when they’re not sure about the pain.

Extra: let’s just enjoy more pained yugo expressions lol

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 15 - Sharing

The rogue makes a connection.

On AO3.

“Why in the sweet hells would I have a rock?” Astarion says.

The bag of sparkpowder makes sense. It’s hard to screw that up. But then she wants a stone, and while he pilfers nearly anything he can get his hands on (to sort through later, mind you) that doesn’t extend to rocks.

“I need to test my theory,” she hisses back at him.

The underground beastie lurks beneath the dirt. Its heart beats slow and strong, and he can’t help but wonder what it’s blood would taste like. It seems simple enough to him: light the bomb, throw it, and run in the opposite direction.

But his illustrious leader keeps mumbling something about “tremors rules” and it makes absolutely no sense to him, but when has that ever mattered.

“Throw one of your own trinkets,” he says. She’s even worse than him about grabbing whatever isn’t nailed down.

“That all got washed off.”

Ah. Right. That. The little, inconsequential thing he might have had a hand in.

Gods. Her and her theories. He knows she’s got at least one, phallus-shaped trinket she could sacrifice. But it’s too much fun to tease her about it, and honestly, it’d be a shame to lose such a quality item.

Of all the things in all the planes, this weirdo beside him took her phallus when she was kidnapped. It’s hysterical.

So he sighs and reaches into his pack. Rummages around until he finds something cool and smooth. One of his empty blood jars—they’re all empty at the moment. He hands it over.

And she leaves him holding it. In silence. Is she judging him? Because it feels like she’s judging him.

“Ahem,” he says and jiggles it.

“Huh,” she says. Articulately. And finally takes it from him. “You have gotta take better care of your stuff.”

The beastie shifts down there. He can imagine it eyeballing them.

“Really?” he says. “You’d like to discuss sanitation right now?”

“I’m just saying. Between this and that bed plank…”

“The one you’ve been sleeping on with no complaint so far? Having ousted me? You’ll have to forgive me, darling, for wondering what your point is.”

He’s…aware all the others sleep on bedrolls. He knows they exist, and that they’ve run into plenty more. He could have plucked one up for himself. But sleeping in comfort was for that bastard’s favorite. Or for when Astarion was put to work. He complains about the lack of a feather bed because it’s expected for the image he’s built for himself: the decadent hedonist. And in truth, he thinks it might very well be nice to rest in one fully clothed for a whole night.

But camping in the wilds with other monsters and an illithid parasite, with the lingering fear of being hunted. No. That’s a luxury he hasn’t been able to afford.

She’ll be wondering about that, however. Even if she never complained, he knows she must have questions. And…he…he almost wants to tell her? For some boggling reason. So he hedges, reveals only part of it. “I don’t like bedrolls. They’re, ah, too soft. The dormitory beds were little better than wood anyway, and those were a luxury compared to the kennel floors.”

“Kennels?” she says, with a strange tone.

“Oh yes. Whenever any of us earned punishment, Cazador sent us to the kennels for correction.”

She silent for a long, long time. During which her heartbeat spikes almost louder than he’s ever heard it. It’s a pathetic excuse, he knows. He shouldn’t have told her. It’s not worth her fragile, mortal back pain to tolerate his sleeping arrangement just because it sends his reverie to places he’d rather not go.

Then she says, “Your plan for that fuckface. Do they include ripping off his head to shit down the back of his neck.”

“…no?” he says. But it sounds incredibly delightful. And vulgar. Maybe once he’s pulled that bastard’s intestines out and draped them around his neck like a festive garland?

“Right. I, uh. Sorry. For snarking at you.”

Again with apologies. It does strange things to him. Things he can’t trust and doesn’t like.

“We,” he says. Trails off. Has to clear his throat for some reason. “You could, ah, lay a bedroll down for yourself. If you wanted.”

There. A compromise. Prevent her frail back from splintering to pieces since they’ll have to keep sharing until they find a bloody waypoint stone.

Then, very softly (and not just in volume, as they’ve been whispering the entire time) she says, “If you’re okay with that.”

And everything in him is unsettled, so he reaches into what he knows, splays a hand over his chest, and says, “Well, I was born for decadence, darling. We’ll just have to make do until then.”

He’s beginning to feel strangely…exposed on the inside. As if he sits in that blood-soaked clearing, in flickering torchlight, with an oozing hole in his chest large enough she can see straight into his lungs.

He needs to paper over that hole with his usual charm, in hope she’ll stop looking into him.

She hums. Then, in an atrocious mimicry of his accent, says, “As m’lord requests.”

He ought to bite her for that level of cheek. But they’re rather stranded and low on medical supplies, and if one of them stumbles and falls off, they’ll be eaten by some huge, armored monster.

So he lifts his eyebrows and drops his lids in the way that almost never fails to bring the first soft brushing of a blush to some tipsy tavern-hopper. “You know, my dear, I could grow very used to the sound of that.”

Without the accent, preferably.

But she continues to drive a wedge between herself and most of his marks (the successful ones, anyway) and instead of leaning in or sliding her fingers across his own, she only snorts and says, “Yeah yeah, y’big dork.”

Which doesn’t translate as anything, but the shape of that word sounds ridiculous and she’s certainly mocking him. Only, once again, her tone carries a smile, and not a trace of coldness or cruelty or disgust.

Something shifts below them. The beastie stirs. And it must be visible enough for his leader to catch, because her fingers start drumming on her thigh.

“What’s the plan, darling?” He’s close enough the warmth of her skin almost soaks into his cold cheek.

But she doesn’t shiver or shy. She’d focused on a murder, which means she notices little else, despite her earlier flinching away. He tilts his head to try and better hear what’s behind them. Someone needs to watch her back. Or listen, anyway.

“So,” she says. Pauses as she does, while her fingers slow to a rhythmic ta-tap-ta, ta-tap-ta. “So I’m thinking we chuck that blood jar as far as possible to the left.”

“We?”

“I’ll get to that. We throw it—”

“Why can’t you throw it, darling? On account of having functional eyes.”

She takes a breath in through her nose. Which she does when she’s annoyed and trying not to show it. He’s fairly certain she thinks she’s being subtle when she does it.

“Astarion. You’re an archer. Your biceps is bigger than mine.”

It’s not the time. He knows that. And yet…?

“You think I’m big?”

It’s hard to describe the sound she makes. It’s rather like an artificer automaton plowing into a shrub, all of it somehow emerging from low in her throat.

“Would you just—”

He’s already standing and slipping in front of her (finding the ledge with his booted toes). “Go on and aim me, then.”

In between all the mortal peril, he’s gotten somewhat used to her bare palm on his. She’d had no qualms about grabbing it an hour ago. But the monster hides below, and she’s back to plucking gingerly at his armor. He nearly says something about it, but in a rare burst of generosity (she’s been through a lot) he lets her turn him in the direction she means him to throw without making any kind of comment.

She hands him the emptied blood jar. “Think you can toss that a hundred feet out?”

He can do a lot better than that. And then another, even rarer flash of planning comes to him, and he finds himself saying, “And after that?”

“If it goes after that, you throw the grenade. Um. In the same spot?”

Even she seems to realize how challenging that’s going to be. Tossing a jar into the distance is nothing. But hitting the same spot again? Blinded? He can’t help it. “Bit of a long shot, darling, even for me.”

He’s certain she’s staring at him. Then she sighs. Doesn’t roll her eyes (well, she probably did) or call him an idiot or order one of his siblings to slap him.

Just says, “Mmm. I…might have an idea for that?”

And oh, does she sound ever so tentative.

“We can, y’know, share thoughts and all with the brainworms, huh? And I saw bits of where the others were that one time. So…?”

Oh dear. She’s actually suggesting what he thinks she is. She’s going to let him into her head.

It’s a double-edge blade, he knows. An opened door with an open invitation can let anyone or anything through. Both ways. And he’d felt her horror when he slipped into her mind that night. When she panics, she curls herself into a tight, impenetrable ball to their shared illithid connection. To say she’s wary would be one of Astarion’s greatest understatements, and he has many.

She’s suggesting she lower her defenses (and his). Maker herself (and him) weak.

“Are you certain?” he says. While he collects the weaknesses of others—it never hurts to have too many weapons in one’s arsenal—he’s aware of a certain…similarity (how disgusting) between them in that respect.

“I mean,” she says. “I got enough water for another day, maybe. What’re the odds of the others finding us within three days of that?”

So she’ll be letting him in, then.

There’s a joke, there. Inviting in a vampire and all. But her voice is tense enough he keeps his tongue behind his teeth and only says, “If you’re sure, darling.”

“This’s probably gonna be fast. Got no idea if it’ll even work. But I’m thinking we pull a Kevin Bacon on it—you chuck that jar, see if it goes after, and then light and toss that bomb right on top if it does. How long do them things burn?”

The wick is short. “Not long.”

“Mmm. So the second it swallows that shit, we book it for the crevasse.”

“And if it chases?”

“Run faster?”

“And if it catches up?”

A pause.

He swears.

“It wouldn’t cross to this mushroom we’re on and that was something I could hop. If we can reach that crack, I think we’ll be good.”

Astarion sighs. “Well, I suppose that’s better than sitting here and drinking from your corpse.”

Even though he could, technically, survive well until the others found him. Whether or not they’d put much effort into it—especially after he sits and watches their glorious leader die—is up for debate.

And…the thought of sitting in the dark silence again is wretched. Especially the thought of listening to his only companion’s heart race, weaken, and then stop.

Dead blood is disgusting.

(he doesn’t want to listen to her die)

Astarion rolls his shoulders. Flexes his fingers. Readjusts his grip on the bottle. Then, “Whenever you’re ready, dearest.”

She takes a few breaths, this time. Rustles quietly. Mutters so softly he only picks out bits of words. Then the brush of her mind against his own.

He leans into it.

It’s rather how he imagines swimming (having no actual memory of the deed). A sort of weightlessness and jostling about. Two people trapped in a very small pool trying not to slosh each other too much.

It’d be easier if they’d just grab each other (we are one, the tadpoles yearn; become Us, become Whole). But the both of them can only pluck at the others’ clothing in an attempt too steady themselves.

Until Astarion loses his patience and finally reaches for her.

Outrage. Fear. Teeth, teeth BITE IT.

Yet his leader manages to reign in her more feral instincts. Begrudgingly lets him ease into her until their outlines blur—

Astarion blinks. It takes a moment to make sense of anything. A new body, a new sense.

He’s…seeing, in a fashion. Shapes and colors. Blue and black. So much black. They’re shadows, he realizes. The dark of the Underdark.

He blinks again, only it’s her blinking and turns his head—

Their bodies revolt. Not one, but two and that’s wrong, it’s not how it’s meant to be, they are a Whole. The moving throws off that synchronicity.

“Jesus fuck!” they say and their stomachs give a queasy flop.

But they need to see around them, so they try again, and they’re angry about it; so, so scared about it. But they got to. It’s a necessity. There’s a birdshark (a what?) waiting to bight off their feet and leave ragged, spurting stumps at the ankle.

“You are a morbid thing.”

“Fuck off.”

More gloom. Details lost. A darker slash to the right (think it’s a crevasse; lord jesus please be a crevasse).

“Darling, your eyesight is shit.”

“Just fucking throw it!”

To the left, then. A dark gap between two, soaring mushroom stalks. They’re rather beautiful, like this. Shining softly in the dark.

They lift an arm, the glass cool in their grip (it’s crusty inside?) (of course, that’s what blood does, darling). It still smells faintly of said blood (that clawing, biting hunger that never goes away) (a spike of something disgustingly soft and they both shove that down in mortification).

Take aim. Feel their own doubleness. Test their arm a few times. The disorientation settles faster each time as they adjust. Cock their arm.

Throw.

The bottle goes spinning off. They already hold the grenade in one of their hands, which they pass to themselves. Eyes move when the other commands to look down. The gap between the mushrooms and the boulder. Track down to the ground below. Along the route they’ll need to run—

Movement.

A surge in the dirt. That low thrumming noise—

“Holy fuck you hear everything—”

Of course they do. Poor, deaf thing she is.

The birdshark surges towards the clank of the jar. Fuse. How short? When?

They gauge the distance. Peer with eyes that fail far too quickly. They have to blink several times. Look around the churning dirt because their sight is atrocious.

“I got perfect twenty-twenty vision you ass.”

Now. Now.

“Ignis!”

The wondrous magic leaps to them. A cat after a string of yarn. An opened valve. Rushes to them and fills them and surges along their arm to ignite a ball of flame in their palm and it really is magic, fuck me.

They light the fuse. The birdshark closes in on the decoy.

“Throw it!”

So they do.

And then there’s no time to untangle themselves because they need to run and they didn’t think this part through, didn’t know they’d be so enmeshed (it’s terrifying) (it’s glorious) (oh god).

They have to run.

Their feet move. All of them. Two pairs and two bodies of a whole running, sprinting, stumbling. They reach out to steady themselves, the cavern rumbling as the birdshark plows on.

As the birdshark stops. It’s tremors rules. It’s gotta hear their pounding footsteps oh sweet hells fuck.

The bomb goes off.

Slaps them stupid. One of them falls, hands cradling ears that hurt and hurt. Claws at them, even. Have to get up, have to go, go!

Scrambling and kicking. The birdshark is quiet. They must have blown it to pieces! It never works in the movies, fucking run.

What’s a movie…? Oh. A wonder. They want more, want to delve in and view the memory of them all—

Get your fucking ass up and moving!

They close the distance to the crevasse. But they’re already flagging. A body unused to this: impact lancing up shins, air clawing at their throat and a cramp stabbing them in the side and they can’t, they can’t go any more. You have to, darling. Up! Get up!

Then. Oh then.

A hissing and rumbling anew. Not towards their distraction, but towards them. It’s failed (told you!) The bomb failed (fucking horror movie rules you fucker) and now it’s coming for them and it’s real fucking pissed.

That puts a pep right back into their step. They’re closing. Even as their body screams. As their feet drag and their lungs burn and they force themselves on. They run. They run for their lives.

Closer. Closer.

They can feel the birdshark now. The ground shivers right on their heels. Right beneath their feet. It’s going to come up right between their legs and chomp off their bullocks—

The ground ends. Drops off in a sheer cut.

They leap.

One lands badly. Feet slide out and their battered and abused left knee twists and pops and gives out. They barely manage to catch themselves on bare palms that rip open on hard stone.

The other doesn’t land. They hit. Fold over a ledge of stone that knocks the air out of them and knocks their thoughts with it. They hit so hard they become two for a moment. His leader scrabbling for a handhold as her feet kick in the terrifying nothingness of the crevasse.

She’s going to fall. Be swept away because he cut that rope and let her.

Shock. Horror. She can still hear him. She can see that memory, the knife sawing through that straining rope and the way he knew it was damning her and he did it without a thought. They stare at each other through her eyes.

Something flashes orange to his left. Some fungus. It throbs once. Twice. Swells up shockingly fast. Oh. That’s probably bad.

“Ast—” she starts and their fear is a shared thing, a rampaging beast thrashing in both their minds.

The mushroom explodes.

He sees it. The flash. And barely registers that before the blast swats him. His leader yelps and her legs flail. She’s going to slip, going to fall and it’ll smash her leg bones up through her pelvis and shish kabob (what?) right through her bowels and into her liver.

But it’s him who feels the ground fall away. Who tumbles, is blasted right off their little ledge.

He falls.

And he falls.

And he falls.

Everything in him goes rather numb. Goes still and silent. But something else rages up inside him and it takes him the span of a thought to realize it’s her, his illustrious leader: her panic. Her terror.

Not because he’s leaving her to die again (as she feared he’d do, oh, he’s really failed hasn’t he). It’s not for her. She’s horrified…for him. His safety. His unshattered (for the next few moments) body.

She’s afraid for him. Despairing, because she cannot reach him, cannot stop this, can only watch him fall.

“Astarion!” she screams.

It’s honest. It’s genuine. No guile or secondary motivation. She reaches out through her tadpole as if to hold him, shield him somehow simply because…because she wants him to not be—

He hits.

[porcalinecunt]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄.

→ you were never ment to be a good husband, and neither was he. so what now? simple. when the spouses aren’t home, someone else is.

🎧 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

♟️𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 / 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓

𝐜𝐰 — infidelity. trans!reader. pussy slapping. degredation. some spanking. edging (?). rough sex. creampie. no aftercare. mean dom! sae. sex addiction (?).

a/n » i told yall i was cooking up smth ;) anyways, life sucks sm ass rn but sae brainrot + a need for angst got me making this. this might end up as a mini series but i’m not 100% sure yet. i’ll see how well it does on here and on ao3 (pls support my works there too 🤍) otherwise, enjoy the fic!

Cold. That’s the only thing you could feel besides your numbing fingers and goosebumps rising on your limbs. The house could get so cold during the wintertime, then again, it’s much warmer than when Rin was home.

Rin Itoshi, the man many would kill to have a chance with, who was your beloved husband. Together for half a decade now, marrying while still being quite young. To many, it was a dream come true and you cannot blame them for that. Rin had it all. Wealth, looks, a successful career as a pro soccer player. He had it all, or better said, almost had it all. Even for him, he lacked the very thing a husband should have. Love for his spouse.

He wasn’t the most loving husband, instead the polar opposite. Many days he was mostly cold, floating around you as if he was a ghost. You rarely hear him utter an “I love you” or any sweet names you’d give him. The most you get is a quick peck on the cheek, then off he goes. again and again.

So it was no surprise you’d find another man to spend spare time with, it was who it was that made it so taboo. And he had just arrived.

The doorbell rang, startling you out of your trance. Your body almost moved completely on its own, turning the knob till the door cracked open, revealing your company for the night.

He didn’t say a word, only standing there. Sae Itoshi, your seemingly brother in law. Then again, he doesn’t really deserve nor fit the title. He’s the very last person Rin would want in his home, and for very good reason. He’s cruel, untrustworthy, and a liar, but then again, he’s all the things you’d wish Rin was. Even if it came with the uglier bits. Sae didn’t waste time walking through the door, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

The man didn’t utter a ‘hello’, and was already prying at your pants. Palming at your soaking cunt, not breaking the kiss to let you breathe. He could be so greedy, so selfish. His lack of foreplay and even care for you was addictive, he was quick and straight to the point, useful when it comes to covering your act up quickly.

“S-Sae..”

You winced, but the man doesn’t stop for anything. Instead, tearing off the loose pajama top you had on and trailing his lips from your face to your jawline. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he carried you off into your bedroom. Plopping you onto the very bed your husband sleeps on, the sheets still smelling like him.

“Still aren’t gonna leave him?” Sae asked, his tone condescending and almost mean.

You shook your head, hearing him scoff before he began to unbutton his shirt. You felt your stomach twist once he fully shed off his white collar top, immediately going for the belt next. You sat up, almost reaching out to unzip his pants but was pushed back down. This time, his hand gripped your wrist and pinned you down.

“So impatient, Rin has been neglecting you huh..”

You quickly nodded, your cunt throbbing with need. It’s been too long since you had a cock stuff you full, your fingers couldn’t satisfy you nor could any of your toys. Rin didn’t help either, even when you two did have sex, he lacked the intimacy and treated it more like a chore if anything. You don’t remember him even trying. With Sae, however, it was almost like the man knew your body better than your own husband. It’s a damn shame you can’t always see him.

Sae climbed on top of you, crashing his lips against yours. His tongue poked and licked at your lips till he pried them open, stuffing your mouth till you whined from the overwhelming feeling. You clung onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin till it became red.

He snuck his fingers between your thighs, digging into your boxers till his slender fingers reached between your folds. He teased, pressing his thumb against your throbbing clit. He chuckled when he heard you shudder against his touch, prompting him to gently slap your cunt. Your legs snapped shut, but not enough before he forced them back open and placed another (and harder) slap. You screwed your eyes shut, hissing from the slight sting yet the rush of pleasure that sent chills down your back.

“S-Sae please—“

“Please what? Speak up.”

He leaned closer, spitting his venom in your ear. His lips touched the flushed lobe, to the point where you nearly fell backwards.

“Please fuck me, please i’ve been waiting for—“

You whispered, already breathless. You couldn’t finish, however, as Sae once again landed another and harsher slap on your soaked cunny. A loud yelp tore from your throat, before a string of sobs filled the room.

“C’mon, giving up already..?”

He inched his hand away, causing you to grab his wrist and place it back onto your weeping cunt. You pleaded, and oh did you plead. Begging for his cock, for him to use you to his heart’s content, even if he broke you a little bit. He was yours, torn out of Rin’s arms and onto his dick effortlessly. It was embarrassingly easy, but then again, Sae always gets what he wants. Always.

He finally tore your boxers off, discarding them and looked down at the view in front of him. Flustered and eager, your legs spread wide open and your eyes syrupy from the tears you shed earlier. The sight made him harder than a rock, prompting him to fish out his cock from his tight pants. It was already leaking precum, the tip a flushed red as he stroked it, lubing up his dick. You took him plenty of times, so he’d stop using lube and fuck you raw.

“You like this don’t you? Taking another man raw while Rin is away. So fuckin’ shameless..”

He hissed, emerald eyes staring down at you like a predator. His face filled with lust and a carnal desire that begs to be released, released onto someone like you. Slowly, he sunk into you, biting back a groan. He looked down, watching his cock dissapere in your tight cunny. He watched your face shift, your mouth opening into an O shape and your eyebrows tilting upwards. It was a sight he could never get bored of. He leaned down, bottoming out while pressing kisses against your cheek and jawline. You were caged between his large arms, his body hovering over yours. You couldn’t help but open your eyes a bit and stare at your lover’s face. He was so damn beautiful, almost unreal. It’s no surprise he caught your eye when you saw him for the first time.

Sae moved slowly, dragging his cock in and out while peppering open mouthed kisses against your neck and chest, his mouth eventually catching one of your nippled. He licked and toyed with it while pinching the other between his fingers, grinning when he heard your mewls and cries. The sounds you made went straight to his dick, an insatiable appetite growing in him. He just couldn’t get enough, no matter how many times he stuffed your greedy cunt.

The sound of skin slapping against one another got louder once he quickened his pace, fucking every little sound your throat hid out. “Ah-ah-ah—“ choppy moans and cut off sobs from his sharp thrusts filled the rooms till its all you could hear. You could barely hear Sae’s degrading names and the rare groan that slips off his tounge.

“Greedy thing, aren’t you?”

He muttered against your skin, pulling away as he slowed down a bit but his thrusts remained harsh. Inching closer and closer to your cervix, your eyes rolled back till you began to see stars. Your fingers curled into the sheets below you, the pit in your stomach growing till you felt like you were gonna pass out from the heat and pleasure.

“Sae..! Why did you slow do—“

A loud smack along with a stinging pain on your inner thigh cut off your whines and forced a crooked sob out of your sore throat. Before you could look up, Sae pulled you up by your arms and flipped you onto your stomach. Pulling your hips up till your on your knees, you looked up from the pillow to meet Sae’s eyes. Strands of his hair stuck to his face, his gaze focused on your current position. While he lacked the love Rin at least had, his tone dripped with lust along with his seductive details in his face and body made you disregard how he could care less about you.

Rin still had the decency to treat you like how a lover should, you were just another paramour to Sae.

And he treated you as such, slamming his heavy cock back in your abused cunt. His hands gripping on your hips, enough to surely leave hand marks. You couldn’t keep up with his pace, to the point where Sae was just pulling your numbing body onto his dick. Fucking you hard and deep like if you were a damn fleshlight.

“Sae! Sae! Sae!”

You sobbed, clawing at your bedsheets until your fingers curl into the already ruined pillow. You stuffed your face into it, trying to muffle your screams. You’d hate it if any of your neighbors overheard what you were doing when your husband was away.

“Y-you’re too good, fuck..! Ah..!”

He abruptly stopped, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing your head up from the pillow.

“Yeah? Better than your dear husband?”

In a dumbified state, your lover balls deep and your body hot and numb, you nodded.

You admitted it, you actually fucking admitted it.

He laughs, breathlessly. In a mixture of shock and appeasement, he picked up his pace until your body was practically rocking up against the bed. He kept your head up, deep emerald eyes staring holes into your mind. He didn’t have to keep guessing, he already knew anyway. He just didn’t expect you to admit it in your most vulnerable state. Usually, a good husband would reassure his love for his significant other, even in the act of infidelity. Whether it was a lie or not, the spouse would always be first and everything.

But he could make someone break that rule so easily, and it fueled his ego to no end. The rush and pleasure he gets from this, from fucking his brother’s husband dumb till his cunny was filled with his seed. Even the image of it gets his dick hard. No matter what Rin would do, Sae would always get the upper hand. Even when it came to the very person who vowed up and down to be with him till death.

That gut wrenching feeling pushed Sae over the edge, as he shoved your head into the pillow once again and pressed his body against yours. You let out one final cry as the warm feeling of his cum filling your cunny overwhelmed you, twitching and shaking underneath him. Your mind went blank, only thinking about his cock that still sat in you. Not at all about Rin, or the fact that you're doing this behind his back. You didn’t remember the overwhelming guilt that would wash over you once Sae leaves the room. The short afterglow of it all, that’ll slowly melt into the same loneliness that had you running into his arms anyways.

An addictive cycle, one you refuse to break despite the consequences it’ll bring soon enough.

Sae pulls out, the feeling of your empty cunt ruining the afterglow. You weakly turn your body around, watching him redress himself. He didn’t have the decency or time to give you proper aftercare, after all, he has better things to tend to. Better yet, a better person.

“Still with her?”

You asked, annoyance and jealousy made clear in your tone. Your lover turned around, just as he was buttoning up his shirt. His face was traced with irritation and maybe a bit of anger with the way you referred to his wife.

“Tch. Think I'm gonna leave her for you?”

“You might as well, Sae..”

He turned away at your response, clearly not listening. You rolled your eyes, staying quiet as he slips his shoes on without saying another word. He leaves the room, as you listen to him walking down the stairs and out the front door. Cold and alone, once again.

Being selfish was the worst decision you could’ve made, and not just for you.

Your phone dinged, revealing a text from your husband. With a grimace face, you opened it much to your regret.

rinnie 💙: I miss you y/n. Let’s do something together once I get back, yeah?

You clutched your phone. Rin almost never texts, let alone even says “i miss you”. Reading that message was a punch to the gut, as you could almost hear the sincerity of his message.

Bastard. Why now?

🎧 this work belongs to @porcalinecunt. reblogs and feedback are appreciated. <3

[saberamane]

I would just like to share this lovely comment from someone on chapter 65 of 'We Were Born For This', it is just so great to see some just get it when you write something that isn't blatant or right in your face.

I've been binge reading this wonderful story over the past couple days, and when i got to this chapter i just had to comment. It feels almost like the culmination of... a lot of things desmond is overcoming, i don't quite know how to put it into words though i'll try (if it comes across awkwardly just keep in mind i absolutely adore this story with my whole heart, so it absolutely isn't intentional).

The way i'm thinking about it, is that we've been slowly watching desmond reclaim how to be a person, and this is one of the last Big Things that have been taken from him without any progress on overcoming it, so it feels like a big victory for desmond to find a way that feels 'safe' for him to explore this side of himself. While as an ace myself i'm fully aware sex isn't necessary for a fulfilling life, it is a completely different thing to have something forcibly stolen than it is to willingly give it up, so there's almost a feeling of pride in seeing desmond begin to grow past it. I also really liked the subtle dom/sub aspects you introduced, even if it was apparently an accident, because i've always felt like it was almost, natural, for things to go in that direction with characters like that. Let's see if i can put it into words, sorry if i ramble on too much...

Okay, so when you have that human weapon vibe from a character, it almost feels like having some sort of sub vibes (sexual or non-sexual) comes naturally, you know? Like, when someone has been built from birth to be nothing more than a weapon, with no wants or desires of their own, the idea of taking charge of themselves for no purpose other than to serve themselves would probably feel unnatural. Like, even when those characters heal and grow beyond just being nothing more than a weapon, that doesn't erase the past, doesn't change the fact that they feel more like they were /built/ than /born/, and that part of their being is always going to be there in the background. And it's its own kind of healing, to choose for yourself who you /want/ to guide and direct you, to willingly offer what was previously taken forcibly. To still be a weapon, but one wielded by gentle hands that you know would never hurt you, that doesn't even view you as the weapon you know yourself to be but instead considers you as the person with wants and needs you can only allow under their encouragement... still a weapon, but more than just a /thing/ to be used and thrown aside... the inherent eroticism of the weapon/wielder dynamic, is what i'm saying. I like my smut with a side of psychoanalysis, lol.

It was wonderfully executed as well, i must say. The smut was written in a wonderfully visceral way, and you could just feel desmond giving himself over so beautifully. Being a good soft dom apparently comes naturally to ezio, with his easy confidence and understanding of what desmond wants and needs, and sheer delight at providing it. Desmond being able to completely relax into it thanks to the mix of the pleasure (unfamiliar and taboo) with the feeling of being commanded (easy and safe). The shame and fear being countered by the comfort of a person he loves and wholly trusted being the one to guide him through it, turning it from something he's doing wrong and must be punished for, to something he's unquestionably doing right as ezio tells him how good he is for it, all while being considerate to hold himself back and not push desmond too far for his own wants and desires.

Basically, thank you very much for such a wonderful story, i am very happy to read this :)

[unaesthetic-writer]

OKAY I don't rlly post much here but I saw this gorgeous au for jegulus from @ashshmee and I wanted to try writing it(my other acc is the one that commented) skshhsjdjshsbe SORRY IF ITS NOT PERFECT 😭

JAMES POV:

I had been waiting a while now for Sirius to finally be ready. Even though I'm the one who asked to go, he's taking longer than me to get ready. I had never gone to the ballet before, but it always intrigued me how those dancers were able to seem so graceful while using up more strength than I could ever imagine. Sirius had said it was his little brother's show, which really had me curious. Sirius doesn't talk about Regulus often, but when he does he's always sounded so... Surreal. Like not even Sirius fully believed he had a brother so unlike him. Sirius, even as my best friend— I can say he's a graceful as a rat. But he makes up for it in other ways; He's an amazing singer, the best I've ever heard in my 22 years on this earth. And Sirius has this presence to him on stage... It's unmatched. But for Sirius, who barely has uttered a non- sarcastic compliment to anyone in YEARS unless he was flirting, to praise someone like that... Regulus has to be spectacular.

But finally, Sirius steps out of the bathroom, his hair and makeup finally finished. It's much more elegant than his usual get up, but it still feels like him. Instead of his usual washed out black jeans and a leather jacket, he's wearing black dress pants and a black button up with only a simple smoky eye for makeup. Even his usually long wind blown hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, small strands framing the front of his face. "I'm ready, prongs! You good to go mate?" He nonchalantly says, as if he hadn't spent the last hour in the bathroom. I roll my eyes at him, "I've been ready Siri, you're the one I was waiting for." He drinks at me like that will stop us from being late. "Well what's done is done, and I'm ready now so let's go!" He shrugs on a nice black trench coat he has and walks towards the door, "We don't wanna be late, now do we prongs?" Chuckling and shaking my head, I follow him, knowing he knows full well that if we're late, it's his fault.

When we reach the theater the show had just begun. But luckily, Sirius said that Regulus doesn't come on for a few more minutes. The skill of the dancers can be seen from miles, they move in time with the music in a way I've never seen before, but would love to see up close. It would be a cool idea for a music video if we got a ballet dancer. Just as I'm about to whisper the idea to Sirius, he comes onto stage. There's no mistaking it— That is Regulus Black. And he is nothing short of an absolute dream. His short black hair, even if it's not half as long as Sirius' flows like the wind as he- "What are those turns called?" I whisper to Sirius. "Pirouettes," He replies, looking at me curious, "Why?" I don't answer him—I can't. How could I answer when Regulus was dancing? I had no idea what the ballet was about, but the aura Regulus exuded was nothing short of prince. Not even that. He was so much more. He glides across that stage with the likeliness of a star gliding through the sky. He owned everything he touched; Every step he took, every turn, every thing he did was magnificent. And the look on his face... It could put even the most beautiful of things to shame. It was delicate, like he was protecting something, but just as fierce and focused. His shining eyes look as if he has been given the world in his hands, and honestly in this moment... He could rule it and no one would protest. But just like that, the shining star, left as if he was never there. My heart doesn't slow, even as he leaves the stage. Not even as the show itself finishes. I don't even remember if he came on stage again after that. I didn't realize the show was over until Sirius was shaking me out of the trance I was in. "Prongs. Prongs!" I stare at him, still feeling dazed and heated "Yeah? What's wrong?" Sirius sighs and eyes me worried. "You were completely spaced out, mate? And you look red as well... You sure you're okay?" I nod. "Yeah, yeah of course... It was just..." I trail off, my mind immediately going to Regulus. Sirius moves his hands, trying to prompt me to say more. But there's only one thought on my mind. "You have to let me meet Regulus. Please Sirius." With a suspicious expression on his face, Sirius opens his mouth to say more but closes it and sighs. "Fine, we'll meet up with him once he finishes getting ready."

SORRY TO CUT IT SHORT GUYS BUT I GTG, SO I'LL MAKE A PT. 2 TMR I PROMISE, HOPE U LIKED JAMES PINING OVER REGGIE ALR

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Off Schedule

Chapter 8

Note: knocking the rust of my writing. send me a note if something is weird. i dont bite

Summary: Your boss is going through a divorce, but it seems you are the last to know. Emotions flare between you, your boss and his business partner. What will you do?

Warning: 18 + only, slow burn, fluff, balance of power dynamic

Brad Pitt x Reader, Keanu Reeves x Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

💐

Jen looked gorgeous. Her baby bump fully present almost stealing the show while the happy couple took their vows.

Despite the joyous atmosphere you sat uncomfortably in the wedding venue, but hopefully hid it well. It was hard to forget consequences of your action, especially when facing the ex-wife, surrounded by her loves. You felt like an interloper, you shouldn’t be here. You were more surprised you hadn’t burst into flames in the pew.

Brad wasn’t here thank god. You hadn’t seen him since that night and thanks to your hiatus from work you wouldn’t be forced to.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant announced proudly as the attendees erupted in cheers and applause. You joined in the pageantry as guilt continued to eat-away at you. Only a few more hours of this before you were free to go home a wallow in the shame of your mistakes.

💐

The short walk to the reception was magical. Behind the venue guests were led down a dirt path. White flower pillars wrapped in fairy lights highlighted the trail leading to a white massive outdoor tent.

The strong scent of flowers wafted out from the opening of the tent. The inside was just a gorgeous as the outside. Flowers draped the ceiling and walls while large center pieces overflowed with blush grapes and pale flowers.

The room boomed with music while the liquor flowed freely. You would be abstaining too scared to make another drunken mistake.

There were too many tables, finding your seat was becoming a challenge. The place cards written in golden calligraphy were beautiful, but hard to read off the stark white background. You squinted, leaning toward each card trying to make out the characters.

“Do you need any help?”

You felt the gentle touch on your shoulder before his soft words hit your ears. Keanu hid his chuckle from the sight of your startled face.

“Oh hi… I didn’t know you were coming. I didn’t see you during the ceremony.”

“I just got back, I tried getting a hold of you, but never got an answer.” He explained.

You frowned in confusion. You hadn’t had any messages from him. Your phone was working you were sure. Sarah and Zoe both had texted you just yesterday.

“Something must be wrong with my phone… I never-,“ You tried to explain as you dug out your phone and quickly scan through your messages. Nothing.

Not even older messages from him. Weird.

He stands beside you watching over your shoulder as you tried to figure this out. You search his name in your contacts and its there, but when you click on it your stunned to find out that he is blocked.

“I don’t know how this happened. I swear I didn’t.” You plead your innocence with wide eyes. The way he looked at you somehow you knew he believed you to your relief.

“No worries these phones are always doing something crazy, it might have to do with a software update.” He suggested. That had to be the case. You’d seen notifications to update before, but always ignored them so that might be why.

“Weird. Of all people. I would’ve preferred if it blocked my mom instead.” You joked.

“That’s a relief I thought you might be avoiding me.”

💐

Keanu led and you followed as he helped you find your seat. He was the only face you recognized and you hoped that his placement was close to your own.

“I think this is us.” He proclaimed picking up two placards holding them side by side. You could kiss Jen for this.

“So how are things at the office?” You enquired as he pulled out your seat.

“It’s been busy, but your absence has been felt. Do you miss it?”

“I'm actually thinking about quitting.” You confessed sheepishly.

“Really?" Surprise and confusion riddled his face. You felt bad, but it was a thought that had been plaguing you for a while. Things at Terrilum were overly messy and you weren’t sure how much worse it was going to get. You needed peace and stability and you were sure you wouldn’t find it there.

“Yeah I’ve just been there for so long and I think its time.” You squirmed a little in your seat. You avoided his looks of concern and focused on the happy people dancing on the dance floor. Your mood was coming down just thinking the of bizarre soap opera you found yourself in and you wished desperately to escape that.

“Well I’m sorry to see you go. If you need a reference I would be happy to help.” Keanu offered. He still looked a bit disappointed, but he wasn’t going to press it seemed. You were thankful for that.

“Thanks, I’ll most definitely take you up on that.”

“Um-mm well while I have you here..” Keanu started but hesitated. You felt the familiar bundle of nerves tightening you belly as you wait in anticipation.

“I hope you don’t mind, but since you were unable to read my messages before, I was wondering if I could ask you in person again.”

“Ask me what?” You asked on the edge of your seat.

“If you wouldn’t mind... I'd like to take you on a date? A real one this time.”

💐

You blinked dumbly at him. For how long you weren’t sure. The question had caught you off guard.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable…Umm I’m sorry I just thought.” He hurried to apologize, but you were quick to stop him.

“Wait! Wait!” You blurted out excitedly, holding your hands up haltingly. “Sorry,” you began lowering your hands and your voice in an attempt to sound more demur. “I’m mean I would love to.”

“That’s a relief.” He said with a grin, clearly entertained by your theatrics. “I’m ashamed to admit I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for a while, but never really had the courage to speak up.”

“Really?”

The news was unbelievable. It felt like you were in a dream that you didn’t want to wake up from.

The joy was short lived though. Your smile faded slowly when you spot a dark cloud in the horizon. The sight of him melts away the new found happiness and slamed you back down to the cold reality.

Brad. You thought he wasn’t coming. You hadn’t seen him during the ceremony either. Keanu followed your line of sight to find his friend and business partner.

Brad hadn’t spotted you both yet, that was good at least. Too busy congratulating the happy couple. Keanu waved over his buddy to your horror. An overwhelming urge to escape on coming doom enveloped your body. You needed to get out of here and fast.

“Um. Sorry… I just realized it’s getting late.” You lied, fumbling through your bag blindly, desperate to find your phone. You needed to order a hire car and get out of here.

“They haven’t cut the cake yet. Stay for a bit and I’ll take you home.” Keanu offered as he turned his attention back to you. Warmth bloomed on your exposed leg when he touched you there. His touch was comforting and you wanted to soak in it.

He was sweet, but you couldn’t take the chance of facing them both.

You smiled tightly disguising your discomfort the best you can. By the look on his face you could tell he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

You sneak a glance in Brad’s direction. He seemed to be getting closer. Damn it. You felt trapped and needed to escape.

“Um ok you’re right, but um I’m gonna go to the ladies I’ll be right back.” You lied pointing a thumb in the direction of your escape. He didn’t get up when you shot to your feet. Keanu just nodded in understanding and you’re grateful when he wouldn't follow suit.

You didn’t look back. There were no bathrooms in the direction you were headed, only catering. The only restrooms were back at the main venue, and to go there you would have to pass by you know who.

Clumsily you slip through the catering door. The faint scent of cigarette smoke caught your nose and you followed it. If they are smoking then there is a back door somewhere.

The staff looked at you confused, but say nothing. Ignoring the stares you ordered the fastest option for hire car despite the price.

Damn it. The next ride was twenty minutes away.

💐💐💐💐💐

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

Mommy, Please - Part 2

Park Seonghwa feat. Kang Yeosang

Word Count: 1337

Contents: masturbating, accidental (at first) voyeurism (again), mommy kink, use of the words whore, slut, and princess, hwa is decidedly subby, use of a fleshlight

Previous | Next

He wasn’t doing this on purpose. Seonghwa was sure he was just unlucky. He simply got caught in the wrong situations at the wrong time. He was misfortune's favourite boy, getting stuck in the hallway, unable to pass Yeosang’s room without him noticing. Yeosang’s door was cracked open and Yeosang was sitting on his bed, fucking himself with a fleshlight. The moonlight illuminated him in the prettiest way as he let his head fall back and let out low, quiet moans, no doubt unaware that his door wasn’t fully closed. Putting on a show for a flustered, curious Seonghwa who was hidden in the shadows of the hallway.

So it wasn’t Seonghwa’s fault. This just kept happening to him. If he tried to pass the door on the way to his room Yeosang would surely notice. That would just be embarrassing for both of them. So really, he was doing Yeosang a favour by staying here, waiting until he was done. Neither of them needed to suffer the shame.

That did mean he was stuck here though.

And while he was here, it couldn’t hurt to watch, right?

Seonghwa bit down on his lip as he leaned against the wall, making sure to stay in the dark. Yeosang wasn’t looking at him, but he was alone in the room, Wooyoung and Jongho were bound to come home at some point. So Yeosang was probably listening, probably making sure he could quickly hide if he needed to. All that meant was that Seonghwa had to be quiet while he waited.

Yeosang bit down on his lip, a groan still making it out of his mouth anyway. He leaned back a little more, moving the toy a little faster. Seonghwa could tell he was murmuring something but couldn’t quite hear it across the room. Some part of him wanted to get closer but he was already risking getting caught if Jongho or Wooyoung returned. And while Jongho would likely just think he was weird, Wooyoung…

Wooyoung would never let him forget something like this.

Seonghwa looked over his shoulder, down the hallway. There was no one there of course. He hadn’t heard anything. 

“I know you want more.”

Seonghwa let out a slow exhale, feeling the heat low in his body. So Yeosang talked to himself too when he was like this. Seonghwa wondered if he should be doing that too. Did everyone else? Was it more fun that way? Maybe if he used his imagination and really got into it. What would he say to himself?

“Keep that mouth open for me.”

Maybe something like that.

Seonghwa clamped his mouth shut after it opened on its own in response to Yeosang’s request. No one was even talking to him. He was simply spying in the hall. He didn’t need to be responding to the things Yeosang was saying to himself while he got off. Yeosang wouldn’t see him. Yeosang shouldn’t see him.

Even with the reminders to himself his body was still getting warmer and warmer. Thrills of arousal rushed down his spine and he was growing harder by the second. Seonghwa let out a silent breath, shaking his hair back out of his eyes and gazing down the hall again before returning his gaze to Yeosang, his mind clouding more and more with horniness.

It would be wrong to get off right now, right? He shouldn’t be getting off to watching one of his friends, listening to him get off. But Yeosang sounded so good, and he looked so good. Seonghwa couldn’t help the way it was getting to him. No one else was around, no one would catch him. He could be quick, right?

Seonghwa brought a hand up to his mouth, covering it while the other pushed into his sweats. He chocked back his moan as he started to palm his cock through his boxers, pretending that somehow made it better than fully fucking into his hand. Still, the sensation of his hand and the soft fabric was already so much better than nothing.

“Mm, that pretty little whore mouth.”

Seonghwa felt his legs tremble. He should probably definitely not be here but now he was far too invested in hearing Yeosang, in seeing him. And he still couldn’t pass down the hall without him noticing. He knew if he took one more step down the hall Yeosang would be able to see him.

And those words were so nice. Was it so bad that he wanted someone to speak to him like that? Maybe he really just needed one good fuck, one nice rough evening that left him barely able to walk. Maybe that would get all of this out of his system and he could just act normal and he wouldn’t get stuck in the hallway jerking off to his friend masturbating.

“Dirty little whore, you like that don’t you?”

Seonghwa muffled his own whimpered agreement to Yeosang’s words as somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered how he’d become this desperate. How he had come to this point. Was this really what happened when he didn’t have sex for a few months? Was he really that needy?

Was he making himself even hornier while judging himself?

He was fully hard now and keeping himself quiet was no easy task but he managed as he watched with his hazy gaze the way Yeosang held the toy still and started to fuck his hips up into it. He let a low moan fall from his lips that made Seonghwa that much more needy. Fuck, he just wanted to be touched. He would love nothing more than to have Yeosang’s hand in his hair right now, holding his head still while he fucked into his mouth.

“I know how rough you like it, baby.”

Was it luck or torture that all the things Yeosang was saying were the things Seonghwa wanted to hear. Seonghwa didn’t know as he wrapped his hand around his cock, boxers still in between them and pumped himself quickly. He could pretend he was being spoken to. But he wanted to be told these things directly. He didn’t want this simply while he hid out in the shadows of the hallway.

Yeosang’s moans grew a little louder as he chased his high, Seonghwa climbing higher along with him and sure he would cum as soon as Yeosang did. His own legs were starting to tremble as he leaned more heavily against the wall. His body was tensing as he thought about Yeosang’s words, unable to stop his mind from imagining Yeosang saying those words to him. Only the hand clamped hard over his mouth was keeping him from moaning out loud.

“Fuck, you’re such a whore for Mommy’s cock.”

Seonghwa’s legs nearly gave out as he came. He was almost sure that the moan he let out was a little too loud but Yeosang didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in getting his own release. Seonghwa’s orgasm crashed through him, sending a euphoric feeling to every inch of his body. He managed to hold himself up against the wall, trying to catch his breath as quietly as possible as Yeosang groaned, releasing into the toy and Seonghwa felt the desperate desire to be that toy.

As he slumped against the wall, pulling his hand out and readjusting his sweats, he wondered if they both knew. This had to be some kind of joke. Maybe they knew Seonghwa was listening? Maybe Yeosang saw him and maybe Hongjoong heard him and maybe both of them were messing with him now. Maybe it was one big joke and Seonghwa was the punchline.

He didn’t know, but he did know that as bad and naughty as it was, he was enjoying it far too much. 

He peeked into the room to see Yeosang having shifted around on his bed, playing on his phone. Seonghwa pulled himself up and took a deep breath before walking past the cracked door and heading to bed.

[quinntell]

I'm glad you enjoy them and I have more!!!! He's recorded all his proper documentaries and has them on yknow those old vhs tapes? There's probably a small warehouse there with a few copies each and a player. Sometimes people find it and they use it to lay low and just listen to them. Some people like to take some, but there's always at least one copy left behind. That building is never griefed (well, some people do, obvy, just never fully and its always rebuilt by passing travellers)

Pac and Mike are the only ones who ever really hear Fit's random ramblings. On a few occasions they try to send messages back but they never reach him :(

Once they are sent to prison, Alcatraz(?), they no longer have access to a radio, but whenever the silence got too loud they'd bring up some of Fit's old stories and just contemplate or theorise about them.

I wonder, do the people on 2b2t ever wonder where Fit's gone? He's been quiet for a while, and while they don't worry, people do wonder about it. People die on 2b2t all the time, so at most they just think of it as a shame, but ig that just makes the old recordings all the more valuable.

Do you think Fit himself had some copies that he showed ramon? While we know the eggs don't have anything on them cuz they were in a hurry, I'd like to think they at least have a backpack or something with them. Ramon has some of those recordings and listens to them each night cuz it's easier to fall asleep to the sound of his fathers voice ;) I need my baby boy back its been a MONTH QUACKITY PLEA-

WHAT IF RAMONS GOGGLES HAD A BILT IN PLAYER AND SINCE ITS PROVEN HE HAS THOSE HE CAN LISTEN THAT WAY???

Dude I seriously love your brain. I image pac and mike wanting to tell fit thier theories but they know fit doesn’t like to talk about 2b2t so they just whisper to themselves and when fit himself brings up lil bits of information about 2b2t they quickly write it down or something

Also I love the idea of the 2b2t community’s entertainment is purely fitmc