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cvnt4him · 5 months ago

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"woah would you look at that, deku just took out that guy with a single punch!"

"he's so amazing!~"

"you're my hero!!!"

So many people chant, root, and holler for even the slightest glimpse of his attention, even a glance.

"Mr deku, what can you tell us about this villain, you hadn't even put up much of a hassle and yet he appears to be tired!" One report gleams.

It's true. He hadn't done too much, one simple practically, light punch and the criminal was already down, he knew that. Deku knew he was good, he knew others thought he was good. He thrived on that kind of energy.

"oh~, well you know, I'm not one to brag nor bring other people down, criminal or not we're all human." He sings to the reporter, hinting at the fact she gave the measly little lowlife schmuck at best, a promotion to 'villian'. cameras flashing everywhere as he heard a bunch of girlish screams, everyone looks over to see a bunch of fan girls rallying to get an autograph.

Dammit.

Izuku tried so hard not to let his smile faulter, its not that he disliked his fans, really he could never, he knows one of the reasons he's here is because of his fans, and he loves them all equally no matter what. However. scrolling on the Internet, especially as a pro hero it's hard not to go down a loophole of your own fans. Izukus fans are nice, sure. But they're also bat shit crazy.

Doxxing people for disagreeing, assuming he was gay for his best friend dynamite, writing fanfiction about him and his best friend dynamite, assuming he had a new significant other because he changed up his style of clothing??

Really his fans are too much, he loves them, he does. But they are just so...smothering?

As he sees the fans hurrying toward him he tries his hardest to jump away as he was stopped by a little deaf girl who wanted an autograph.

Shit. You can't NOT give a little deaf girl an autograph it'd be bad publicity. he sighs deeply in defeat, knowing how easily persuaded he is, he'll most likely be there standing, on his feet, smiling wide and big for fans, for the next hour and a half.

Izuku sighed deeply through his nose as he finally, after 5 more hours of working, made it back to his bed, that's all he wanted. He didn't bother taking his suit off just simply jumping in his bed and groaning at the comfort he longed for.

He grabbed his phone and opened Twitter.. that was the first mistake of the night, he scrolled through his feed coming across a post of a girl just rambling about her ever lasting love for deku.

He shifted in his bed so now he was laying back on his pillows, turning up the sound to hear your beautifully slurred voice.

"- like bro.. I don't think any of you understand how my NEED for this man is like just.. sigh. I'm about to go crazy bro. If I were given the chance I'd do unholy. Unspeakable. Down right horrendous things to this man, i- aHaAVE YOU SEEN HIS NEW HERO SUIT??" You were talking to your friend who had the idea to start recording you while you were drunk, laughing and snorting at you.

The video was posted by you, the caption read; 'my friend started recording while i was drunk and i randomly went on a rant ab my love for the #1 hero 💀'

He snickered at this, genuinely finding it funny, but sooner or later it registered in his brain what you'd said..you'd do what to him.

Before he knew it he was semi hard, he looked down at his slight hard on confused, there is no way this turned him on?? He had been sent so many videos of his fan girls from all ages going down on a dildo with his name slapped on it, he never found it the least but attractive, just kind of desperate..

He watched the video again, his cock becoming fully erect as he sighed at the uncomfortable feeling of his now leaking, completely hard cock, rubbing against his suit pants.

It had been a while since he'd done something like this.. since he had used someone..he needed this, just to relax. Just a couple of strokes to get him to come, that's all.

He let out a shaky sigh, slowly trailing his thick fingers up and down his clothed cock, earning a light squeak to rip from his throat due to the slight pleasure he felt from the gentle actions.

He knew he needed it, he needed this so badly, but he wouldn't rush it. He hated when he rushed things, he says 'they never get done correctly'.

So he would be patient with himself, gently palming himself over his suit pants, letting breathy sighs leave his slightly dried and chapped lips.

He looked over to his phone to see the paused video...

'oh what the hell.' he thought to himself as he grabbed the phone, angling and holding it close to his ear to hear your voice and the loud laughs that he hopefully tried to blur out of his mind. Focusing on your voice fully.

He held the phone close to his ear closing his eyes listening to your slurred speech, and the hiccups and giggles that left your mouth, he bit his lip as his palming motions began to get harder and more rough, "I would do down right horrendous things to this man." That line stuck with him, that's what made him undo his pants and shimmy them off so he could fully touch his leaking, crying cock.

He groaned in embarrassment and disgust in himself at the sight of his already soaked boxers, why did his cock have to be so leaky!!

He whimpered at the sight, pulling his boxers down just enough to have his cock hit against himself. He wrapped two fingers around his cock and rolled his eyes back, biting his lip to sustain the sound that wanted to come out. He stroked himself slowly, letting the precum on his tip continue to drip down his thick cock.

He had listened to the audio all over again this time fixating on the part where you'd talked about his suit. He had changed up his suit a couple of times, never really straying away from the original concept he had in highschool, the green was always there to stay, and he always liked the fact his suit was more of a jumpsuit kind of thing, but changing it over the years, he went with a tighter fabric for his new and improved suit, removing the bunny ears at the back, and adding a white cape, replacing his huge bulky gloves with just as thick, smaller and well fitted ones, the white the painted his suit was now black.

He hadn't done much to his suit really.

But you and so many others thought it was the sexiest thing in the world.

He loved that, that you loved his suit, he whimpered in a pitchy octave, eyes crossing as he shut them, breaths becoming uneven as he wraps his whole hand around his aching, dripping, cock. It yearned for release, he needed it, it hurt so bad but felt so good he couldn't stop, he was sooo close!

So so close, and yet.. not close enough to get him there. He abandoned all self respect and hope for 'not rushing things' he needed to come and the only way he could is if he really touched himself.

He ripped off the top of his hero suit before rummaging in his bedside drawer to grab a Fleshlight, it was a lot more advanced than your normal average pussy shaped fleshie, it had handle and so many different modes!!! It vibrated and wiggled and had a squirt thingy that shot lube inside to make his cock slippery, not that he'd need it, his cock is like a water fountain with so much cum to give.

He turned it onto its highest setting before settling his twitching cock, dribbling with precum, inside of it.

He couldn't contain the line of moans that ripped out of him, he wanted to really he did, he wanted to keep quiet for his neighbors but he just couldn't, he felt so fucking good, he'd felt that he'd never been this hot or bothered before especially not because of some measly audio that wasn't in any way remotely sexual, and yet he was so close to cumming because of it. This video. This person. You.

You were so close to making him cum.. he was right there bucking his hips up into the contraption, shaking, whilst his whole body spasmed as he threw his head back, sweat dripping from his tired and spent body, he groaned and moaned so loudly it was so lewd, he was so lewd. He couldn't believe what he was doing, he felt so dirty, but in this very moment, he couldn't care. He was so drunk off of the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving that all he wanted, needed, was to cum.

And when he finally released with a high pitched moan, globs of tears leaving his rolled eyes, there was so much, ropes of his white, hot, thick cum squirting inside of the toy. It was still vibrating against his softening cock, it made him so overstimulated yet he couldn't move, his orgasm was so strong he didn't have the energy to take his cock out. He just sat there, holding onto the toy that continuously vibrated and massaged his limp, thick, crying cock, crying, sniffing, and whimpering.

Hell he'd probably already came again without even knowing it, his orgasms had gone on for a while, he still couldn't move, just blissfully laying against his bed, covered in sweat and tears streaming down his reddened freckled face.

As he regained his composure, the overstimulation was more than enough, he hiccuped, wiping his face from the tears and sweat that covered it, as he turned off the toy and tossed it off of his bed, he was half naked, hot, and hungry.

He groaned as he draped one of his arms over his face, feeling the sweat and tears cover his forearm, as he heard the video that had been playing over and over again on repeat. His eyes shot wide open as he scurried to grab his phone. he looked at the video in disgust. Had he really just gone to a new low, and came to this stupid video of a dumb drunk girl complimenting him??

His post nut clarity was always bad, especially because he did some pretty down bad, disgusting, sinful things. But this? Yeah he deserved to suffer for all eternity.

He groaned placing his phone under his pillow as he buried his face in said pillow, squeezing his eyes shut at how hard he'd came, his cock still filthy and sticky with his thick ooey gooey cum, now dirtying his bed.

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AN: he hates himself for how much and how hard he came, he really does.

I'm making a pt 2🤭

#deku smut #deku x reader #izuku is so girlie pop #izuku x reader #boku no hero academia #mha #mha x reader #cvnts-post

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hazelfoureyes · 8 months ago

Note

Do you think you could do a male version of the radioapple is the safe word? Or maybe just a gender neutral pronouned story? I adore it so much

of course! I am happy to adapt my stories whenever possible 🥺✨ sometimes I can’t but this one was an easy enough shift! didn’t tag the horny deer cult, this is the same story but with the hardware swapped out. Will tag in new pieces 🙏 warning; I almost exclusively watch femboy gay porn and it shows

The Safeword is RadioApple (Part 1)

(RadioApple x MaleReader)

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, male reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, asshole hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main

MINORS DNI BRUH

“Sir.”

Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.

“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”

“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”

But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”

With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”

“Daaad!” She groaned.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going.”

Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”

Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.

He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”

Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.

“Luci.”

Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.

It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.

Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.

You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more.

Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.

That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.

No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.

For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue. Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.

Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.

“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.

Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.

“You can say no.” You added quickly.

“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.

“Many reasons.” You added quicker.

“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.

You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”

He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.

“You what now?”

His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you.

“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed him.”

If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”

But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder.

“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.

You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”

Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.

Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.

Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.

“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.

“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my boy.’

“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”

He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest, hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.

Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”

He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you.

Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission.

Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises.

You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.

Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest.

You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”

A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.

Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.

He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. Your own cock twitched under your robe at the feeling.

Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.

Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.

When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.

One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants.

“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap.

Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”

“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.

“Three’s a crowd.”

“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, hole soft and ready for him already, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.

Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men.

“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek.

Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible.

Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft. He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.

“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.

Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Your cock hard and bouncing with every thrust. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—

“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?

“See? He can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself.

With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.”

Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your tight heat. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it.

When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.

Tempting.

But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms.

He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands.

Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time–

Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself.

Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again.

Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.

Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your dick, now pulsing under his hand. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your g-spot with every kiss of his hips.

You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your face tighten. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. His hands working your shaft, fingers ghosting over your balls and head with every stroke up and down.

With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed, your own release sticky and already cooling under you.

Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants.

“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you.

Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”

With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed and stretched hole.

“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci.

Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide in and out of your with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it.

With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your ass, teasing your entrance with every pass. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn.

As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway.

Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon.

Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling dear.

What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.

What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?

Your nails cut into his skin, and you were worried you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your bullied boy cunt got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths.

Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead.

You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt.

Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected.

As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.

Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.

He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.

Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would roll back, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so sticky wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper.

It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.

Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.

Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.

The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If he needs you to stop, he’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever he can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your muscles clenched around him earned you a hiss.

He began to move again, the new position causing his stomach to rut against your returning erection as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more.

“Are you sure he isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.

“Nonsense. Can’t you feel him? Or does he just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.

You unconsciously tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back.

Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.

He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before, stomach lurching into your chest with the impact.

He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were covered in oil and cum, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock opening parts of you never before reached. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning.

You could feel him spreading open your body, soft walls helpless to resist his raging member. The feeling of your silky boy cunt sliding along his cock, your tight hole gripping him, was driving him mad.

You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Wails that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.

A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.

An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.

The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.

As Luci became lost in the sensation of your body trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.

Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”

Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.

The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”

Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”

Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised ass.

Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.

Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.

Second, rage.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you.

“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”

Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.

“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.

You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.

Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”

But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”

Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.

There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”

༻Masterlist༺

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skylarsblue · 1 year ago

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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes Nine✦

(Sexual Implication) Ghost, trying to be sexy by whispering: Gaggin’ for it, aren’t ya, love? Soap: Nope. Ghost: No? Soap: I don’t gag on anything. Ghost: *404 Error* Soap: …Ghost? Si? Simon, are you alright?

-- Y/N: Let’s play a word association game! Ghost: Why? Y/N: Because I saved your ass last mission and I’m bored, so you owe me. Ghost: *sigh* Fine. Y/N: P e r f e c t . Gaz: ?? Y/N: Cold. Ghost: Winter. Y/N: Spring. Ghost: Mattress. Y/N: Soft. Ghost: Comfortable. Y/N: Pleasant. Ghost: Sunset. Y/N, With a shit eating grin: Beautiful. Ghost, unconsciously: Johnny- Y/N: YES Gaz: OHHHHHH Ghost: Soap: *gasp* Simon!~ Ghost: I’m going to go crash in a heli. Y/N: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT-

-- Alex: Bitch do you want me to jump across this table? Because I don’t have all day for this. Norris: You feeling froggy? Leap. Alex: Okay, well here I come- Farah: Alex no, no- hOLD OFF

-- (NSFW Joke) Y/N: Oh sorry. I almost drank out of your cup. Soap: Wh-Just go ahead, it won’t matter! Y/N: Well I- Yeah no, you’re right. I’ve drank out of your cups dozens of times. Soap: We’ve sucked the same dick- Y/N: That’s a good point! Ghost: ….*sigh*

-- Gaz: What kind of girl do you like? Soap: My wife. Gaz: And you? Ghost: Johnny’s wife. Gaz: OH- Price, knowing they recently started a poly situation: Pfft-

-- (Use of the word pussy because haha) Gaz, filming: Pffft- Soap: Shhshh- Y/N in the hallway: FORTY THREE FUCKING CENTS! AHHHHH Soap: *wheeze* Y/N: I NEED A SUGAR DADDY!! Gaz: PFFFT- Soap: I can’t breathe- Y/N: At this rate I’m ready to plaster my fuckin’ pussy on the sidewalk for some sPARE CHANGE! Gaz & Soap: *doing that silent cackle thing and smack each other in the arm* Ghost, leaning into the room: What the f- Y/N: SPAARE CHANGE, SPARE CHANGE! ANYONE GOT ANY SPARE CHAAANGE?! Gaz: *coughing* Soap: Steamin’ Jesus I’m fucking crying- Y/N, passing by the room: 🎵Walkin’ in a winter wonderlaaaand🎶

-- Y/N: Would you love me? Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Would I love you if…? Y/N: nO ThAt wAs tHE QuesTiOn-

-- Y/N: Pretty boy! With me I said! Rudy: Rudy: Rudy: Oh I’m pretty boy! Y/N: Yes! Oo that came out a bit quick- (Also works with Soap & Gaz, honestly)

-- (THIS IS A CONCEPT IM TOO WHIMPY TO WRITE, SO HAVE IT HERE! THIS COULD WORK WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS Also, NSFW warning) Ghost: I don’t miss. Y/N, on his ear piece: Never? Even with distractions? Ghost: *turns his scope* Not ever. *just about to take a shot* Y/N: Hmm…what if I went… Mm Simon~ Ghost: *misses* Y/N: Ya missed. Ghost: Cheeky bitch…

-- Gaz: Alright, so, since we’re now in America and we have some time to kill, I went and I got you something. Y/N: Aww Gaz, you really didn’t have to- Gaz: *puts down their Whataburger order* Y/N: OH MY GOD Price: Really? Gaz: *shrug* Soap: *snickering as Y/N Fucking demolishes some fries* Y/N, having the time of their life: Garrick you ever need your dick sucked, a dead body buried, a beer or whatever, you call me. I got’chu Gaz: BAHA- Soap: *wheeze* Ghost: Are you fucking crying? Y/N with their mouth full: I missed it so much.

-- (Team bonding exercises) Soap: You’re a football player, it’s in ya blood! Gaz: That’s racist. Soap: Your soul? Gaz: That’s racist! Soap: …your eyes? Gaz: That’s gay- Soap: That’s homophobic. Gaz: That’s black. Soap: That’s racist!! Gaz: Damn- (this one is extra funny since Gaz is now confirmed LGBT)

-- Gaz: You overrated little twink! Soap: Hey I am a TWUNK, alright?! That is a combination, twink, and HUNK, get it?? Hunk-

-- Soap: Hey~ Fem!Y/N: You’re Gay. Soap: …oh yeah. Soap: *looks at Ghost* Soap: Hey.~ Ghost: *sigh*

-- Soap: I’m gonna have to meet men lying down. Y/N: …I thought’cha did?? Soap: OI!

-- Soap: Everyone says what a giving person I am! Y/N: He’s talking about when you’re in an upright position.

-- Graves: What if there’s a connection? Y/N: I think there’s a connection between your brain and wallpaper paste.

-- Shepard: Now you’re always ornery, rude, unpleasant, and sometimes downright mean. That’s part of your charm. Y/N: Thank you, you colluding-county-hopping-idiotic-relic. Price: *pride*

-- Alex: Oh my god, how are you such a good driver? Soap: Because there’s illegal shit in here. Alex: Soap: Because if I don’t use my turn signal, we’re both gonna do fifteen. Because I am going to lie and say yours. Alex: ….. Soap: Put your seatbelt on, sweetheart. Alex: *clicks it in places* Soap: You are not safe!

-- (Sucking dick joke) Kidnapper: You’re gonna do as I say or I will make you regret ever being born. Y/N: Oh please, I’ve sucked dicks more intimidating than you. Soap: Oh this is why Simon was the way he was after we rescued you both last time.

-- Soap, shoving marshmallows in his mouth: This isn’t very ha-*chokes* MILF!Y/N, across the fucking base: ….*mom instinct* Price: ??? Ghost: Uh- Y/N: Something just happened. Kyle: PFFT-

-- MILF!Y/N: *letting Soap & Gaz lean on her while Price and Ghost stand close behind* Untrue. I’m a mother now. It’s really changed my perspective. Graves: And do you find it hard juggling life and a career? Y/N: You can juggle these nuts.

-- Soap: *rambling* Soap: Agh, sorry, I’m just goin’ on and on- Ghost: Oi, keep talking before I kick your ass. Soap: ….. Gaz: See? This is exactly what I m-where the fuck are these flower petals coming from?? ARE THOSE SPARKLES??

#call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #cod headcanons #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #phillip graves #rodolfo rudy parra #incorrect cod quotes

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fanofstuff01 · 7 months ago

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HERE I AM! Here I am with a little writing of mine!

Before we get started, this AU belongs to @woah-why-i-am-here and they have pretty cool drawings about it. GO CHECK IT OUT!

Considering the show itself is 16+, this is aswell, know it then read this, also it has Valentino.

DEAR TUMBLR! PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS DOWN!

A little summary: Adam fell to hell, needed money, and Valentino was the only one hired him. He owned his soul, and it was too late when Adam realized what he agreed to work on. He is one of Valentino’s top whores now. And of course, Adam and Angel met, in fact, more than ‘met’. Their films sure sell a lot. They slowly become friends and Angel convinces Adam to come to the hotel. This is after these happened. Also not shipping Angel x Adam.

ENJOY! (Also since you love holydust @rius-cave , tagging you!)

“And cut!” Valentino said proudly, ending the scene. “One hour break and we’re here till 8!”

Adam panted as he tried to collect his mind. He slowly backed away from the fish demon gal, wore his robes back and got up to go to his dressing room. This was the third demon he was on top of that day, and sure enough she was not gonna be the last. Today was gonna suck. Val was planning to work on eight fucking movies, not to mention six of them were gay and two of them were with Angel. He was glad the one-hour break came.

“Addie~” He heard someone behind him and felt that certain ‘someone’ gripping his shoulders.

Valentino. Awesome. Just who he needed.

He attempted to not show the fear and hatred he felt to his face and mask. Too bad the fucking thing was programmed to show every emotion on his face, and sometimes they didn’t even needed to be on his face, him feeling them was enough. Angel had a -probably true- theory about it, he thought that it was ‘connected’ to his brain when he wore it. Adam was already regretting that he put the “I will only work with a mask” in his contract. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face on films, but this was much worse. He couldn’t fucking took it off till his shift ended!

“Yes, Val?” He asked, trying to avoid the movements he was doing to his chest. Yes, prick? he corrected himself in his brain.

“You were so, so good in the last one, babe” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Valentino.”

“Go ahead. Rest, baby.” He thought he was gonna leave him, but instead, he leaned in and kissed his cheek, completely disgusting the sinner. He didn’t flinch or resist though, he knew what’d happen if he did. “Oh, I can’t wait to see you and Angie on stage together.” he let out another one of his creepy chuckles and finally let the first man go. Adam almost runned to his dressing room, closed the door behind him and threw himself on the couch.

“Fuuck.” He groaned and tried to grab his wine bottle without getting up.

“Adam?” A familiar voice came from outside.

“Door isn’t locked!” He yelled.

“Hey, dickmaster.” A pink spider demon came inside and sat down beside him, tilted his head back and watched as the demon managed to grab the bottle and drank it without standing up, like his life depended on it.

“Y’know you can choke yourself doin’ that, right?”

“Meh, who the fuck cares.” He get up dazedly and looked inside the bottle with one of his eyes.

“I don’t recommend dying on work hours, Val punishes the ones who do.”

“Unholy shit, that actually happened?!” Adam asked, his pupil-les eyes went wide.

“I saw three accidents.” Angel shrugged. “Any left for me?”

“Sorry, I guess that bitch camera guy sneaked up here again and stole my stash.”

“It’s fine. Wanna eat your food? We’re gonna need energy.” Angel asked and took out two containers out of his bag. “I made lasagna yesterday.”

“Oh, you bet I do then.” He smirked and took his own. Angel knew the best ways to make it.

They chatted together until their break ended.

“Adam! Get your ass here or there will be consequences!” A little window appeared in Adam’s mask, almost like a pop-up ad. It was their costume designer. “And bring Angel with you!”

“Fine, fine! Ugh.” He groaned, swiped the page to make it dissapear and get up. “Who’s idea was putting this shit on this again?” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s go cocksucker, we have another job to do.”

HOW IS IT!?

By the way, Adam’s mask in this is practically based on his original mask, a Voxtech product just for Adam. Like Vox’s screen, it’s like a screen-face.

I’ll continue this

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin adam #holydust #I worked so hard on this #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino

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ladykailitha · 2 months ago

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Steve's Rewind

Just an idea I had stewing in my brain, buckle up this is going to get angsty as fuck. Thanks to my discord for helping me with some of the fiddlier details.

Here we go.

The Harrington family were once a clan a powerful magic users, though their bloodline is diluted now they barely have the smallest spark of it left in their blood. It allows them to use the device left to them by their ancestor. Althenea’s Life Spool, or the Spool most of the time.

It allows the user to go back and do over one event at the cost of one year of their life. In addition they remember the previous timeline. It is handed to the eldest child on their 16th birthday.

Usually only members of the Harrington clan remember previous timelines, but when Steve meets El, he finds out that the experiments done to her and the other children make it so she can see the previous timelines, too.

She commends him for the two times he’s used it so far.

The first time was on Nov. 12th, 1983. The night he went to Jonathan’s to apologize about the camera. The first time, he ran. Their screams ringing in his ears as he flees. Only now all the Byers family is dead, along with Nancy and the Mind Flayer breaks through to the surface world, screaming like a banshee.

He doesn’t know what will happen if he runs back into that house, but he knows at least he’ll have tried.

And while it doesn’t work out perfect, he’s pretty satisfied with the results.

On Oct. 31st, 1984 he thinks about using it again, but doesn’t. He doesn’t know what event started the relationship with Nancy to go south. So he leaves it be and silently deals with the broken heart.

On July 5th, 1985. Steve learns that El can see the previous timelines too and asks him to rewind so Hopper lives. Steve tells her about the cost and she turns pale. He asks her if she still wants that and she shakes her head. No. That would not be fair.

Then on Mar. 29th, 1986, she comes to him again. This time it’s all of Hawkins that swings in the balance and he agrees. He was just waiting for her to return so that they could plan out what needed to be changed.

So they hatch out a plan: Give everyone an extra twenty minutes to get into place. Towels in the vents of the trailer. Time for Hopper et al to kill the demogorgon, time for Jason and his cronies to find the Creel House, come up empty and leave, time for El to get into a better place to protect Max. Steve stocks up on flares and torches to bring as much heat as possible to the Vecna fight.

They win, Eddie and Max escape unharmed, Vecna and Upside Down falls. Everything is good for awhile.

Eddie and Steve start dating and they’re really happy. Until Steve arrives to their favorite gay bar a little late because of work and finds Eddie in a corner with another guy and just leaves.

When Eddie stumbles home that night Steve tears into him and threatens to break up with him.

Only Eddie starts crying.

Like full on sobs and the truth comes out, that guy had roofied Eddie and was assaulting him.

Now Steve is devastated and cleans Eddie up, putting him to bed. Then he calls El. Tells her he’s going to rewind the events of that night. And at first she argues against using the device for something so trivial especially one that didn’t end in someone’s death. If he wouldn’t do it for Hopper, what’s so different about this moment.

He reminds her that Hopper is alive, that his being in the Russian prison camp is part of the reason they were able to defeat Vecna and she concedes. Asks again why this is worth a year of his life and he explains that it’s not about his relationship with Eddie. They talked and Eddie already forgave him and said that he would have done the same thing. It might take a bit, but they’ll be fine.

No, the reason Steve wants to do this is because Eddie has suffered so much. Because none of the other Party members got introduced to this shit by watching a nice girl who had done nothing wrong, twisted and torn apart before their eyes.

That the witch hunt and getting off the murder charges had put a dent in Eddie’s confidence. This would destroy it entirely.

This is about a person who deserves a boyfriend who would give up everything for him to show him how loved he is, even at the cost of one year of his life.

El eventually agrees.

Steve goes to the back of the closet and pulls it out. But Eddie finds him, tells him he overheard him talking to El and he won’t let Steve do that. He’s not worth a year of his life.

Steve kisses him gently and explains what it is and what it’s done. Sometimes things work out for the better, sometimes they don’t. But always, always, always the change is worth it to the user. It’s why after nearly five hundred years the Spool has not been used up, because the string is finite, it will run out one day. But each person that has been gifted it knows the change is always worth it.

Once his father rewound cheating on his mother. The demogorgon that killed Barb, killed her instead and the world ended. He hated having to go back rewind that moment, but he knew the consequences of that moment needed an empty house that day.

Eddie sighs in relief. The moment can be rewound. So he puts his trust in Steve. That his boyfriend whose family has had this device for literal centuries knows the cost better than anyone, understands what hes’ doing.

Steve rewinds the moment and they are stronger together for it.

Steve will use it only use it one more time, when the birth of their daughter kills Robin who was their surrogate. They wait a year and everything turns out fine the second time.

Then on Julie Barbara Munson’s 16th birthday, her papa gives her his most precious item. A small spool of red thread.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #time travel au

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cairavende · 10 months ago

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My wonderful girlfriend got me Gideon the Ninth for Christmas and I realized why should I just give Worm recaps? Let's read some Locked Tomb! (We'll see how this format works, maybe I'll adjust it. Specifically might break stuff down into smaller segments instead of full acts, but I didn't think of doing this until after I had read all of act 1.)

Gideon the Ninth Act 1 (chapter 1 through 8) thoughts:

This book is so gay oh my god

Like, it's gay in ways I can't even explain. I love it.

Harrow beats the shit out of Gideon in chapter 2 and I don't know if I've ever seen someone get beat up in a more gay way.

"Oh Griddle! But I don't even remember about you most of the time." ROLL A FUCKING DECEPTION CHECK HARROW! You are saying this standing in the middle of the field you spent all night burying bones in just to foil her escape in the most dramatic way. You can't stop remembering her.

Gideon is the most herbo of herbos. I fucking love her. I love reading her PoV. She just knows punch and stab with sword and if those don't work than she'll just do them harder.

Also Gideon is SO fucking gay. Dear god. Dulcinea faints and Gideon turns off all though. HELP PRETTY GIRL. Nothing else.

Ok I could just make this whole thing "EVERYTHING IS GAY" but there is technically more than that.

I love how weird everything is and how little explanation is given. I don't want pages of exposition, I want to learn the world as it comes at me! This is perfect.

And just the very nature of things that seem weird not being given more than a passing thought in the book is information. Something may seem wild to the reader but it's so normalized to the characters that they wouldn't even think about the idea of it being different.

Lack of explanation also helps really show how much of a meathead Gideon is. Do the readers get to learn details about this thing? Only if it is a weapon, has tits, or Gideon is forced to listen while Harrow explains it. Otherwise no, why the fuck would Gideon spend her precious few brain cells on thinking?

And even if Gideon is forced to listen as Harrow explains it, the readers might not learn much cause Gideon might stop listening. I love her.

Aiglamene is wonderful. Crux is fine but I like her more.

Poor Gideon just wants a big sword that she can swing hard. It's not like she can't use a rapier. But why when she can go big sword?

SO MUCH CATHOLICISM

As someone who once was Catholic and then realized I was actually not a straight man, but instead a lesbian, I am in deep.

And the fucking slang used! Or whatever would be the right term. The shit they say! I love it. Just the weird sci-fi far future space necromancer universe and then suddenly "Are you asking me to . . . throw her a bone?", "Gideon had always known that this would be how she went: gangbanged to death by skeletons.", "Don’t hypothetically shove stuff up my butt again, it never does any good.", "Lo! A destructed ass.", "Well we were developing common sense, she studied the blade.", "Double Bones with Doctor Skelebone."

House of the First appears to be Earth. I kinda assume the House of the Ninth is Pluto, even though things obviously aren't in order given that the Seventh and Sixth are closer to the sun. Of course, I'm kinda expecting this to not technically be this solar system at all.

Undying Emperor, King of Resurrection, I Have Ten-Thousand Titles, Boss First, etc etc hasn't been on "Earth" in over nine thousand years. I wanna know MORE.

And the fucking Ninth House has their own prayer! Everyone else has one that the Ninth didn't know and then the Ninth had one that no one else knows! GIMME MORE!!!!

Also again, so many Catholicism metaphors or comparisons or whatever!

I could go on forever but gonna end this one with OH MY GOD SHE FOUND SUNGLASSES I LOVE HER. Fucking "I came prepared, my sweet." and "But then you couldn't have admired . . . these!" as she whips on the sunglasses. God. I nearly died.

#The Locked Tomb #tlt #Gideon the Ninth #Cairavende reads The Locked Tomb #Gideon Nav #Harrowhark Nonagesimus #Dulcinea Septimus #This might be the most lesbian thing I've ever read and I've read some pretty fucking lesbian things #Dulcinea might be my favorite so far

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14thcommander · 1 year ago

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moment's silence || hange zoe x reader

cw: smut, 18+ ONLY. oral, dirty talk, age gap (8 years), reader is a baby gay, nb! hange, afab! reader. based on this post.

“Can I eat you out?”

The words escape from your mouth before you can stop them. Hange pauses the movie currently playing on the television before you – Jaws 2 would have to wait. It’s not like they were particularly invested in the narrative, anyway.

Hange was fine with this night going down a soft and romantic route, just cuddling on their sofa would be fine. Although this new path seems unexpected, they can’t hide the excitement in their eyes. They finally turn to look at you, eyes big and doe-like under the soft blue halo coming from the screen. They like you like this, soft and spontaneous. Youthful. The eight year gap that attempts to separate the two of you surely kicks in, sometimes.

“Uh, sure. Why so out of the blue, though?” They ask, as a soft chuckle leaves their mouth. A soft hand finds its way towards your face, softly caressing your cheek. You shiver under the coldness of the silver rings wrapped around Hange’s thin fingers, and they pretend not to notice.

“Um, I don’t know.” You giggle nervously under their gaze, aiming your stare towards the paused movie. There’s nothing special about thai night – except for the fact Hange is wearing a suit. The occasion called for it, apparently: a few hours earlier, you visited a new art gallery downtown.

After a beat or two of silence, you speak again:

“I just really want to taste you.”

Your confession almost makes Hange moan out loud, which causes their teeth to sink on their bottom lip – not in a “I’m trying to seduce you” type of way, but in a “I have no words for this, and I don’t want to let my body react for me” way.

Zoe is a few years older than you, much more experienced – in a few different ways. They’ve had their fair share of sleeping with beautiful women in their life… you, not so much. You were not a virgin when you met Hange, you just hadn’t realized until that point that your romantic and sexual interest went way far than just sleeping with men – and pretending to like it, most of the time.

It’s been a couple of months since then: you’re taking things slow – or trying to. Hange wants to do this right, for you. They don’t want to scare you away, or overwhelm you. It does take a lot of self control when you pull shit like this, though.

“So?” You ask, feeling your heart in your throat. There’s many thoughts clogging your brain right now: what if they don’t want this, what if I’m pushing them, was I too quick, or maybe too slow, I don’t know what I’m doing–

“Of course, princess.” They whisper, coming closer to you.

Hange’s lips are soft against yours, delicate even. Their kiss never fails to sweep you off your feet, as you feel like you’re floating. You hum against the kiss, sliding your tongue against theirs. Eventually, you leave their lips unattained in order to place open-mouthed kisses on their neck.

You climb on their lap, spreading your legs on top of them. This feels so good, Hange thinks. I should definitely say it out loud, let her know how good she is. Your curious hands travel through their body, warm and possessive: you travel this new territory with so much desire, it’s almost suffocating. All Zoe can come up with is a weak…

“Fuck” They whisper once you climb down from them, knees hitting the carpet beneath you.

Shortly before opening their pants, you move the fabric of your dress down, so your tits are freed from its confinement. Is this the right move, though? Guys usually seemed to like it… I hope they don’t notice I have no idea what I’m doing, you think .

“Is this okay?” You ask, looking up at them with darkened eyelashes. Hange can’t stop thinking about how they want to melt your makeup away, make a mess of you. Eventually, they think. Not tonight.

“Yeah,” They reply, voice sounding hoarser than they intended “Go ‘head.”

With hunger dripping from your eyes, you move their pants down, along with the plain black boxer-style panties they were wearing. Meanwhile, Hange takes their blazer off and starts unbuttoning the white dress shirt they were wearing.

“You’re so attractive.” You mumble, voice barely above a whisper, as you start heatedly placing kisses on Hange’s thighs. They sigh, as a pink tint starts blossoming on their cheeks.

You mean it: Zoe has this unique appearance to them, one that just lures you in even more once you get to know them. Hange is everything you’ve ever wanted, but you still don’t have the heart to tell them that.

Instead, what you do is place your hands on their knees, carefully spreading their legs and exposing what you’ve been dying to taste this whole night. Hange’s pussy is better than what you’ve been imagining for the past few months, better than what you’ve been picturing when playing with yourself. They’re not shaved or waxed, but they are carefully trimmed. You lick your lips in excitement when you realize how wet they are – and it’s all for you.

You place a kiss on their clit, an experimental one. Then, another one. Looking up at them, you lick a single stripe from their entrance towards their needy clit. They taste good, so good. This is so much better than I expected, we should have done this before…

“Oh God, yeah, just like that.” They purr, voice sounding restrained and snapping you out of your thoughts, only to make you realize you’ve been making out with their clit.

Experimentally, you suck on it, which causes Hange’s head to tall back against the sofa’s armrest. You part their lips to give you better access to their bundle of nerves, lapping at it – slowly, and then building up the speed and pressure.

“Feels so good.” They whisper, hands gripping the back of your neck – and, for a moment, Hange wonders if this is too much. Their worries go away as suddenly as they came when you moan against their pussy, diving even deeper between their thighs.

Now, you’re sucking and slurping on them, nails carefully raking against the soft skin of their inner thighs, and Hange thinks – no, actually knows – this is what heaven feels like. With you, on your knees, willingly pleasuring them. They already feel addicted to you.

Zoe looks like a mess: hair all over the place, glasses lowering on the bridge of their nose, and tanned skin sweaty.

“Fuck, fuck.” they whine, moving their hips against your face – which seems to make you happy, given the fact you moan against their clit. “Yeah, I’m almost there, don’t stop.”

You tap on their thigh, showing you understand their request – you keep the same amount of speed and pressure, tongue moving against their now puffy clit relentlessly.

A wave of white-hot feeling travels through Hange’s body, as their body convulses underneath your mouth. Their members go limp, relaxing underneath your touch. They cum choking on your name, letting out a final whine as you try to lick them clean.

Hange grips your hair, removing you from in-between their legs. They pant, looking at you almost incredulously.

“You good?” You ask, hair messy and face wet, smiling up at them.

“Yeah. You?” They breathe, reaching for your body once again.

You nod, straddling their lap, as Hange pulls you in for a kiss.

“Good. My turn now.”

#hange x y/n #hange x you #hange zoe x reader #hange smut #hange zoe smut #aot smut #hange x reader

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fag4dykestobin · 1 year ago

Text

yesterday, i wrote a little snippet of a steve coming out scene that had been living in my head for a bit, and i thought that that was it. and then i kept writing little snippets until this was nearly 3k words long <3 so. enjoy!!

Steve looks up at the popcorn ceiling, heart beating, beating, beating, nearly out of… his… chest. Steve doesn’t look at Robin, but… he… knows that Robin is looking at… her?

“Feel like we should be in the bathroom for this,” Steve croaks. Robin huffs out a laugh.

“We can move in there, if you want. My parent’s probably won’t need to use it, they’re in bed already.”

Steve shakes… her…? his. His(/her?) head. “No. I feel better in here.”

“Okay.” And then it’s quiet, between them, and it’s up to Steve to fill that silence. Awesome. Steve can do that. Well, Steve could do that, usually, but unfortunately there is something in Steve’s throat that is blocking everything and anything from coming out of it. Maybe Robin will just let him(/her?) sit here in silence forever, until they both fall asleep, and then when they wake up in the morning they can go along with their lives like there’s nothing building up in Steve’s soul, clawing and raging and desperate to come out.

Robin shifts, so that their feet, propped on the wall in front of them, are touching. It’s enough to get Steve going.

“You know when we were in the Russian base, and you said the thing about your life being one big error?”

Robin made a noise of affirmation.

“Were you talking about, like, being gay?”

Robin sits with the question for a few moments. “... Mostly,” is the answer she decides to go with. Steve waits for her to elaborate.

“I guess it was like, well. Some of it had to do with how we ended up in the Russian base, right? It didn’t feel real. Or like it was supposed to happen. But it also felt like just one more thing in my life that went wrong, and I kinda connect all the bad things that happen to me with me being a lesbian.” There’s a beat of silence. “Which I know isn’t really good. But I’ve been doing it for a while, so it’s hard to stop.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you feel like that? About being, um, half-gay?” The term they’ve landed on for Steve’s sexuality is kind of ridiculous, but neither of them could think of anything better for it. And it’s not like they really refer to it by name outside of hushed and rare conversations like this one.

“I guess?” Steve thinks on it a little. “Not really. Not like you, at least. It’s, like…” Steve lets himself(/herself?) brush against the problem in his(/her?) brain. Think about it for more than a fleeting moment.

Terror envelopes him(/her?)(cut that shit out pick one and stick to it). Steve tries to think through it, but it’s kind of hard to breathe.

“It’s more about, um. I don’t know. I… It feels stupid.” It feels wrong. It feels criminal.

“I won’t think you’re stupid,” Robin says, so earnestly, like she believes it. Oh, that’s horrible to think about her. Steve screws his eyes shut. Steve screws her eyes shut.

Pick one. (pick he.) And stick to it.

“Sometimes I… mmm. Sometimes I… Robin, if you—” Steve cuts himself off. This feels evil, what he’s about to say. Maybe more evil than what he is. “If I what?” Robin sounds concerned. Like, worried concerned. It makes Steve want to stop everything and wrap her up in a big hug and never talk about this again. Besides, what was Steve even going to say? Robin, if you hate me after this… what? What does he want her to do? Robin, if you hate me after what I say, please don’t.

If Robin hated Steve for this, he might just die.

“Steve? Are you okay?” Robin takes her legs down from the wall and sits up, leans over Steve, trying to get a good look at his face. Steve covers his eyes with his hands.

“I don’t know. I don’t— eugh.” Steve gulps in a big breath, “Robin, if you— hate me, um—”

“No! No no no no no! No! Steve, look at me! Right now!” Steve wants to, but that might make him actually cry. Steve digs her palms into her eyes. No. His palms, his eyes.

God.

“Steve, Evie, please. Please.” The nickname makes Steve’s eyes water. He swipes at them to make them go away, but they keep flowing. Okay, this is going a bit disastrously. The most important thing to do right now is keep his eyes closed and not look at Robin, or else he might shatter into a million little pieces.

“No, I— let me just— I don’t want you to—”

“I won’t hate you, ever. For anything. Are you okay?” Robin sounds miserably anxious. You can’t promise that, Steve wants to bite out. He swallows it. Steve has to trust Robin, because if she can’t, maybe she truly isn’t meant to be like this. Maybe Robin won’t hate him, maybe Robin will help him fix it.

“Sometimes I think about being a girl.”

The words sit heavy between them. Steve kind of wants to throw up about it.

“... Okay.” Robin says. She sounds a little breathless. Steve tries to imagine the look on her face, but can’t imagine it through the fuzz of terror. And like hell will he open his eyes.

“... Okay?” Steve croaks, after Robin fails to elaborate.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” She still has that breathless note in her voice, but it’s more like an aftermath-of-anxiety breathlessness than still-actively-anxious breathlessness.

Steve worries that he’s(.../she’s?) downplayed the problem here. Steve swallows, mouth dry, throat dry.

“No, I, I don’t just think about it, I like thinking about it. I like it when, um, the kids make fun of me by calling me, a, a mom, and I like when you or Max or El paints my nails, and I, I think about stealing your clothes sometimes and it makes me want to kill myself but I can’t, I can’t stop, I…” Steve is now hyperventilating.

Robin tackles Steve, and Steve’s horrible, traitorous mind wonders if she’ll wrap her hands around his(/her?) throat and kill her(/him?) rather than let him(her?) leave this room.

Steve opens her(/his?) mouth to, who knows, tell her that it’s okay? That he(/she?) understands? That she(/he?) loves her? But nothing comes out, and after a second, Steve realizes that it’s a hug. Obviously. And then Steve starts sobbing.

It takes a few minutes for Steve to stop losing… his? her? God, the thought of either makes Steve want to puke. It takes a few minutes for Steve to stop losing Steve’s mind. And Robin strokes Steve’s hair the whole time, and holds Steve the whole time, and whispers that it’s okay and that she loves Steve, the whole time. It kind of prolongs the sobbing, in a way, because Steve just can’t believe it. But Steve does eventually calm down.

“Steve,” Robin whispers.

Steve sniffles and swallows thickly. “Yeah?”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Well,” says Robin, and then she pauses, like she’s thinking. Steve lets her. There’s a headache brewing in Steve’s temple, and the silence is nice, in a way.

“Well,” Robin starts up again. “I don’t think you’re weird, or messed up, and I definitely don’t hate you. We’ve seen bad things and bad people. And you’re not bad.”

“Well, I… if I’m not bad, or weird, for this, I don’t know what I am.” Steve can hardly believe how well Robin is taking this. It really shouldn’t surprise Steve at all, because Robin is so, so good, but this is something that Steve hates, and they’re usually a united front on that, when it really matters.

So… maybe Robin is right.

Robin climbs off of Steve, lays down next to Steve again. But instead of propping her legs up on the wall, like Steve for some goddamn reason is still doing, she curls next to Steve, facing Steve. Looking at Steve. Still holding Steve’s hands.

“We’ll figure it out.” She squeezes. Steve squeezes right back, and keeps the grip tight.

“Okay.”

They sit in silence, and Steve just… breathes. Tries to will the headache away; not happening, ugh. Drops the legs from the wall. Steve plays with Robin’s fingers, not even trying to process what had happened yet. That can wait til later.

After a few minutes, Robin speaks up again. “Are you okay with questions? If not, that’s fine.” And Steve knows she means it. She will totally drop it for the night and let them settle down and watch a movie or three. But Steve doesn’t really want that right now. Steve wants to stay in this space where, at least for now, what Steve is feeling is fine, and alright. Steve’s never had that before, for this.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “They’re okay.” Maybe they can do the figuring out thing right now. Maybe all of Steve’s problems will be solved tonight. Wouldn’t that be a relief? Robin pulls her hands away, and Steve hears the rasping of her shirt material being rubbed together between her fingers.

“So… do you want to be a girl?” The question doesn’t sound harsh leaving Robin’s mouth, but the words are heavy. It makes alarm bells ring in Steve’s head, forbidden question! Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it! Years of routine repression make it hard for Steve to even consider the question, but Steve tries. Slowly and agonizingly, Steve thinks about it. It genuinely takes a few minutes, but Robin can clearly sense that Steve is thinking about it, so she doesn’t interrupt. Steve loves her so much.

“Kinda,” Steve whispers. “It’s… I don’t know. Really. It’s stupid.”

“Nuh-uh. No stupid stuff right now. Just say how you feel.”

“I kinda wanna be half-girl. Like how I’m half-gay.” It feels stupid. It feels evil. It feels way too indulgent. Even in a perfect world, it’s one or the other. Steve can’t, like, hog them both. They cancel each other out. Right?

“Uh-huh?” Robin is prompting Steve to go on. Oh God.

“Um. Like. I still… like the guy parts of me, you know? I still like being a guy.” That feels really important to emphasize. Steve feels kind of insane, talking like this, actually getting Steve’s thoughts out into the real world. But Robin is still listening, no judgment. It kind of makes Steve want to cry again, but that would make the headache worse so, no thanks. “But I… I like the girl parts, too. I like when you call me Evie, but I don’t want you to stop calling me Steve.”

Steve can feel Robin shift, like she’s nodding. “Okay,” she says again.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. You can… you can be a half-girl, half-guy.” And it sounds simple and a little obscene, when she says it. Maybe not obscene. Maybe more like tantalizing.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers. “Is that, like… allowed?”

Steve finally turns to look at Robin. Her eyes are big and full of thought. It feels stupid, thinking like that, but there’s nothing else to describe it. Steve can see the thoughts dancing around in her pupils and irises and whatever else is in an eye. It’s so beautiful. Steve loves her so much.

“... I think that you can do whatever you want,” Robin whispers back. “And be whatever you want.”

Steve’s face crumples, just a little bit. Not enough that it means tears, but enough to bring the idea to mind. Steve pinches Steve’s nose. “It can’t be that simple, though.”

Robin tilts her head in a way that can only be described as birdlike. She hates when people compare her to birds, just because of her name, but it fits right now, in the secrecy of Steve’s brain. She looks serious and intent. “Why not?”

“Nobody has ever done this before. I think.”

“Nobody that we know of. We live in Hawkins, Steve, we know like, 500 people. There are probably people in New York, or Chicago, or whatever, that feel exactly like you.”

Steve can’t reconcile with that. It feels so lonely, being like this. It feels inherently lonely.

“And even if you are the only one in the world that feels like this… Well, that’s fine! You can be whoever you want! Especially around me.” Robin grabs Steve’s hands in her own. Her hands are always so cold. Steve loves to hold them and feel them warm up bit by bit. It’s grounding, especially right now.

“I don’t want you to hide yourself. Not from me. I hid for so long, around everyone else, and it was killing me.” Robin’s eyes bore into Steve’s. “And I didn’t know it was killing me, but looking back, it’s like, wow, I was going to die.” Her voice cracks, just a little bit, and Steve makes an involuntary noise. Holds her hands just a little tighter. The warmth is already equalizing between them. “And, I don’t know. I don’t want you to get there. Or, if… you’re there already, I don’t want you getting any further.”

Sometimes it astounds Steve, just how much Robin gets things. This isn’t one of those times, though. It feels deeply right, and deeply sad.

“Alright,” Steve says.

“You won’t hide this from me? After this?”

A shake of the head. “No.” And it sounds so easy, promising this. Maybe it can be easy. Steve hopes it will be easy.

“I love you,” Robin says, and she pulls Steve into a hug. Steve melts into it. Robin gives very bony and kinda twitchy hugs, minute movements every few seconds, and Steve loves them. Robin, a while ago, maybe a couple months after Starcourt, had expressed anxiety about her hugs being ‘godawful uncomfortable,’ her words, but Steve had denied that fiercely. Her hugs were God’s gift to mankind, and if everyone else hated it, fine. More for Steve.

“I love you too,” Steve says into her chest.

They lapse into silence again. Steve thinks about asking for some water, but that would mean one or both of them leaving this room, and all possible configurations seem worse than the lack of water, right now. Steve presses closer into Robin.

“Another question.”

“Yeah?”

“So, you like Steve and Evie, and you’re a girl and a guy. Do you like he and she?”

There’s the dreaded question. Steve can’t hold back a groan. “I don’t know,” Steve says into her chest. “I’ve kinda, thought about it a bit, but… both of them feel weird, by themselves. I guess I like both, but only when they’re next to each other. I can’t really decide on one.”

Robin hums in consideration. “I mean, we’re making all this up as we go. If they don’t feel right by themselves, then why do they have to be by themselves?”

Steve thinks about it. “It feels like they’re supposed to cancel each other out,” Steve says, voicing a thought from earlier.

“They clearly don’t, at least in your case.” Robin presses her cheek to the top of Steve’s head, flattening the hair there. “Don’t think about how things should be. Think about what you want.”

What Steve wants. Okay.

He thinks about he. She thinks about she. And how, apart, they really only feel like half of himself, but together, they feel like they tell the whole story and show the whole picture.

Steve can’t help but think about those optical illusions Dustin had shown her a while back. The one with the two faces. If you concentrated, you see whichever one you wanted at will. And they seemed so opposed, yet so intertwined, and you couldn’t have one face without the other. Maybe he’s an optical illusion. It’s better than being evil.

“Okay. Yeah. Both are good.” Steve can feel Robin smile into her hair.

“Do you want me to use them both?”

Steve feels a flash of panic. “Um— augh. Not… not around other people, um, but—”

Robin squeezes him closer. “Oh, God, obviously!” she says, and Steve is so grateful that they’re on the same page, like, 90% of the time, and that this falls into that 90%. “I can sneak them into conversations between us. Pronouns don’t really pop up in conversations between two people, but maybe if we got a cat or a goldfish or a turtle I could talk to it about you in front of you. Or is that weird? Hm. It might be weird.”

Steve can’t help the smile dawning on her face. Maybe everything will be okay. “It’s kinda weird. But we should do it anyway.”

Robin laughs, and Steve still has his face buried in her chest, so he can feel it. “Yeah,” she says fondly. “I guess that hasn’t stopped us before.”

#steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #trans steve harrington #genderqueer steve harrington #bigender steve harrington #stranger things #little by little. everyone will believe in my vision of bigender steve #and okay this wasn't really 'edited' or whatever the kids are saying these days but thats fine i'm still proud of this :)#i just love them so much <3 steve and robin figuring things out...#do not know how to write them without having a sappy ending its kinda just inherent in the stobin of it all #anyway ENJOYYYY me and my girlfriend are gonna go out and have a date day :)#quincy.txt #my fics

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meangirls-imagines · 8 months ago

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hi! can i ask for more descriptions of the R in the poly!plasticsverse (i love the character descriptions btw, im just eager) like how tall are they and what music they listen to.

(also hi! is this the appropriate place to send my dumb little thoughts about them? because i know your requests are closed and i don’t wanna like overstep in any way. im also the person who submitted R getting up in the middle of the night to sleep [IT WAS SO GOOD AND SWEET AND CUTE, i love it so much] but i did not expect to get something written, and i felt bad because i didn’t know if that meant i made you feel like it was a request. if it did come off as a request, i am so sorry, i meant to be a gay little shit telling you how much it took over my brain to read poly!plastics)

HI YES OF COURSE YOU CAN SEND IN YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT THE POLY!PLASTICSVERSE! PLEASE DO!

Y/N is what @yungpoetfics calls "polyjamorous".

She vibes to female rappers with Regina.

She dances to vintage music with Gretchen. (Her and Gretchen have slow danced to Elvis in the kitchen late at night.)

She tries to listen to Kpop with Karen but can't get into it. (She doesn't tell Karen that so she doesn't hurt her feelings.)

She goes all "Thug Life" with Shane. (They showed up to school one day dressed like 2005 John Cena while blasting Tupac. Regina burned those clothes after Y/N wore them.)

She introduced Shane to emo rap. He became obsessed with Lil Peep in two days. (He tried to get face tats but Y/N shut that shit down quickly."

"Lil Peep looks good with them because he's handsome, you would look like you just got out of jail. Do you know what they do to pretty boys like you in jail? They make them bottom bitches." "Maybe I should go to jail." "NO!"

Her and Aaron listen to all kinds of things (but when they are alone, they blast One Direction).

Her and Janis have a similar taste, so they vibe with each others music.

Damian tries to get her to listen to R&B and she likes it.....kind of.

Y/N is a pop punk/emo at heart.

Y/N and Regina will jam to Paramore and Evanescence but Y/N's favorite band is Simple Plan.

Y/N went to a Simple Plan concert when she was a kid and it was the greatest moment of her life.

They got a picture of them meeting Simple Plan and it's their greatest possession.

She listens to classical music with Cady when she tutors Y/N. When they hang out on what they call "mother and son time", they listen to country. (Conway Twitty, Garth Brooks, Reba, etc.)

Regina and Y/N recreated the "Still Into You" video (Regina singing, Y/N playing guitar. Ballons, bicycles indoors, the whole thing) and posted it to their IG on Valentines Day.

It's their song.

Emo band hcs:

Y/N: Simple Plan

Regina: Paramore

Karen: Panic! At the Disco

Gretchen: Dashboard Confessional

Cady: Secondhand Serenade

Aaron: Fall Out Boy

Shane: Green Day

Janis: Avril Lavigne

Damian: is confused

Now, let's talk about about our favorite stoner.

Y/N is 5'6", she's just shorter than Regina.

She's got a scar on her nose from when she was a kid and she was jumping on her parent's bed and tripped over her dad's foot and busted her face. (I'm totally not projecting). And a birthmark on her stomach that is lighter than the rest of her skin (so it looks like a scar). When they get intimate, its her girlfriends favorite spot to kiss.

(She also wrote a song called My Girl for the plastics and plays it when one or all of them are sad.)

#mean girls imagines #regina george imagine #regina george x reader #karen shetty x reader #gretchen wieners x reader #cady heron #damian hubbard #aaron samuels #janis imi'ike #shane oman #poly!plasticsverse

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whatheoncedid · 2 years ago

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“Hey can you smell this? Do I absolutely NEED to take a shower? You know I fucking hate showers. Water blasting you in the morning. Soap making you all fuckin itchy after… sniff it let me know.” I turned from the sink to see him standing their holding one foot up. “Pete. You’re disgusting. I can smell you from here you animal. You smell salty as fuck, how can you not know?” I said. I was fixing my hair trying to get it to cooperate. “Well that’s just like my regular smell! C’mon! Is it bad enough that I need to shower, because basically no one would even know once my shoes and clothes are on right?” He asked. He was still perched awkwardly. Since I had realized I was obsessed with him I had tried my best not to look at him. I moved in with a straight guy to avoid catching feelings. Now I was head over heels. Desperate for the feeling to pass. Now with him there in a towel, scent filling the room. I was about to scream or blast a load in my work pants. “Pete fuck OFF. You reek everyone talks shit about it, just not to your face— because well, most of you is muscle. Anyway, take a shower, don’t take a shower. It will surprise no one when you smell like a locker room full of cum socks. We ALL expect it, ok it’s a thing. Hear it from your gay friend cause no one else is telling you. Now get out! I gotta get ready for work and I don’t want your…musk, settling on me. OUT.” I said sharply. He slowly put his foot down. He stared at me. He lunged at me and pinned me into the wall. “What the FUCK is your problem?!” He growled. “Pete— I gotta go to work, and it’s early” I was in shock and fumbling for words. “Talk your shit but don’t you EVER be cold with me. ME. Dismissing me like I’m fucking nobody?! Lately you won’t even look me in my fucking eyes dude. Avoiding me. Treating me like a rando. So again what is your fucking problem?!” He was speaking in a voice I didn’t recognize. His expression was one I hadn’t seen. I was at a loss. “Peter—I’m, it’s just” my brain decided to quit. “You know what I think the problem is?” With a quick twist of his hand his towel dropped to the ground. “You fucking want me bro. You crushin on the man of the house? Tryna save face bruh?” His face slowly changed back to the handsome jokester I knew…and loved. “Jesus Christ. I hope you’re not playing a prank on me.” I whispered. He grabbed my hand and wrapped it around his hard on. “Does that feel like a prank to you?” He asked. He was warm, hard, and sticky from sweat. I felt my knees buckle. “Now… I seem to remember asking you to sniff some things? You ready? We’re gonna have some fuuuun bro!” He said lifting his arm. “Uhm—don’t call me bro. Gross.” I said snickering. “Ho-Ho-hooo really? You know you’re gonna pay for that right?” He mashed his sweaty pit in my face. My body went limp as I kept on jacking him. “Thaaaaaat’s it, let it get all over your face…and don’t worry, from now on I’ll call you bitch.”

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nicole-alt-delete · 2 years ago

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Part 2 of Black Bandana!

Just as Robin is about to open the door and return to the hovel she and Steve consider a job, the door bursts open in front of her and Eddie Munson blazes past. She barely has time to process his greeting, let alone how red he looks.

"What was that about?" She questions, just briefly looking back at him as she makes her way to the counter, only to find Steve standing there looking shell shocked.

And quite possibly redder than Eddie was.

Robin might not be able to figure out what's going on in the Munson brain, but one look at Steve has her dropping their lunch on the counter in a hurry as her eyebrows shoot up and she leans in to whisper dramatically.

"Did something happen? You didn't tell him-?"

Despite still looking beyond flustered, Steve manages to snap out of it just so he can push her shoulder. "What? God, no- Rob, are you kidding- no, no.... He just uh. I.... I'm not sure what just happened, actually."

He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through that signature hair of his, and as Robin rolls her eyes and rounds the counter he's already got his hands on his hips as he enters his 'thinking mode'.

She takes a seat on another of the counters and reaches for her food, eager to find out just want transpired while she was out.

"Okay then dingus, you know the drill- from the top,"

Steve does a little head shake and starts pacing, taking a moment to go through it in his head, trying to figure out where exactly the top of the situation was. After a few moments of scrunched eyebrows and more head shaking, he finally looks around the store, making sure it's empty again.

"Okay, well... I guess... I mean I guess Eddie came out to me?"

Robin throws her hands up, the fries she was about to shove into her mouth forgotten in her excitement.

"What?! Well that's- that's perfect then right? I mean I told you so, first of all, but then. What's with all the...?" as she gestures to him, pointing out how tense and confused he looks.

Steve rolls his eyes, "No Robs, it's not perfect- it was a shitshow! It was totally an accident, it was like I forced him to say it- and he looked so terrified, I really didn't know those eyes of his could get any bigger. Someone came into the store and he ran away before I could even respond, I don't think he thinks..."

Another sigh as his voice drops a little to mumble, "He probably thinks I'm gonna punch him or some stupid shit,"

Robin frowns. "An accident... he came out to you on accident." Nodding a little like she gets it. She immediately shakes her head and squints, definitely not getting it at all.

"How did that happen, exactly?"

Steve leans against the opposite counter, the red returning to his face as he crosses his arms. "I guess... you know that bandana he always carries?"

She nods, "The one you stole to get a reaction from him, yeah. I assume he came to get it back like you wanted- so what went wrong?"

"Well- that's just it- you know how I had it in my pocket this morning? Just like he always does? I guess when he came in he saw, and he absolutely freaked the hell out. Jumped over the counter and nearly gave me a heart attack over it,"

Robin laughs, “Over the bandana?”

“Because it was in my pocket,”

She stares at him blankly.

"Because.... it was in your pocket."

He nods.

They blink at each other in silence for a moment, before finally Robin pulls her head back and makes this confused little sneer, setting aside her lunch altogether.

"What the fuck?"

Steve throws his arms up in exasperation, "I know! He freaked out and started talking about how it was some 'symbol' or something and then when I asked what it symbolized he said- he said it means he's gay. Which, okay, cool! We knew that Robs- but now what?!"

He sighs again and slinks down the side of the counter until he hits the floor. Robin doesn't even wait until his butt lands before she's on the ground with him, cross legged and resting her head in her hands.

"Okay, well... first off, forget the bandana thing. Your local lesbian's never heard of it so it can't really be that big of a deal, right? And what, so you wore it like that too. Not technically wrong..."

He rolls his eyes, "Eddie doesn't know-"

"So tell him, dingus! Like I've been telling you to! But no, Harrington has to 'put the moves on him' instead of just using his big boy words,"

She huffs softly and punches him in the shoulder lovingly, which Steve whines about.

"Ow, Robs- okay, I get it, I get it- he's not going to want to talk to me though,"

"Doesn't matter, if you don't do it then I'm making you do the closing clean for the next week, you hear me?"

Steve groans even louder this time, putting his head in his hands before running them through his hair, the classic Steve Reset Button(tm).

He nods, "Alright I'll go. You're worse than Dustin sometimes, you know that?"

She smirks and stands up, offering him a hand and yanking him back up too. "If Dustin was the one helping you with this you would have killed him by now, so we both know that's not true,"

Eddie jumped back in his van and sped back home just as fast as he legally could. Actually- that was a lie, he was definitely speeding. By a lot.

He had to get as far as he possibly could from Steve Harrington, and he had to do it yesterday.

After screeching into the trailer park and turning the ignition off as fast as humanly possible, he bolted inside and ran to his room, debating just how many things he really *needed* if he were to run away on the spot.

He’s seen what happens to gay kids in Hawkins, knows it’ll only be worse for him. The last thing he needed was to be both the falsely accused murderer AND the faggot. Not to mention the heartbreak of having Steve be the start of it…

Part of Eddie knows Steve wouldn’t. He really does try to believe it. But his instincts take over.

He grabs an old duffel bag and starts scrambling to put clothes in it, not bothering to check whether they're clean or dirty, just moving on anxious, paranoid instinct.

Thoughts race through his head about what Wayne will say, and how far away he should be before he calls. His heart aches at the idea of leaving behind Hellfire and his band, but he doesn't think he could stand to let either of them see him after Steve finds him and throws the first punch, or whether the kids would even care once he inevitably told them too.

He starts a pile at the foot of his bed, debating how much he can fit in the van, planning to leave during the night, figuring he has at least enough for gas to the next major city. He gets so caught up in his silly little escape plan that he doesn't realize how long it's actually taking him to "pack".

There's a knock on the door and Eddie nearly has a heart attack, jumping from the sound and immediately kicking his dresser, all thoughts completely gone from his head as he curses at the pain.

"Son of a FUCKING bitch, shitting stick- mother fucker- I'll be there in a damn second!" he huffs as there's a second, more timid knock.

Without thinking about any of the things he had just a moment ago been panicking over, he limps to the door and swings it open, ready to berate whoever bothered him, only to stop dead when he sees...

Steve. Of course it's Steve. He's not even taken off his stupid work vest yet and the little bottlecap button Eddie had made him last week was staring right at him from his chest.

Steve waves shyly at Eddie and starts to say something, but Eddie can't hear it, already backing away and starting to blabber, "Listen man- I was- I was joking earlier! I wouldn't- there's nothing to- you really don't have to hurt me or anything, I swear-"

Steve stays on the porch, looking a little stunned. No, not stunned... hurt. Or- maybe worried? He looks kind of like if you kicked a puppy and then threw it in the pool, except sadder.

Not actually, probably, but as far as Eddie's concerned, the look on Steve's face hurts him about a hundred times worse than a sad puppy could.

Steve puts a hand on the back of his neck, the other held up to show he means no harm, sighing, "I'm not gonna hurt you Eds, I'd never... I just wanted to talk, I um. I thought..."

He stammers for a second, unsure what else to say, caught in between thoughts and clearly unprepared for how Eddie had reacted.

Eddie can't help but relax a little. No matter how worried he was, being around Steve always made him relax, but seeing him like this? How was he supposed to be scared anymore?

Eddie groans a little, "Just- get in here Harrington, you're killing me- if there's some mob on their way you better get your shit together before they get here,"

Eek, here it is, part 2! Sorry for making y'all wait, I am famously bad at working on things so thank you all for your patience 🙏 There WILL absolutely be a part 3, (maybe a part 4 if I want to get spicy), so I'll try to tag as many people for that one as well. And thank you all so so much for your sweet comments! I've been in such an art block lately, so writing something for a change and getting all this positive feedback is so encouraging 💜

Tag list! I tried to get everyone, but tumblr was weird with some of them, so I hope you're seeing this if you asked <3

@goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @plutoshelm @jestyzesty @bisexualdisastersworld @sofadofax @bornonthesavage @awkwardgravity1 @trikigirl271 @thegayestpersonever @precursprandthedragon@mightbeasleep

@cherixxx69 @baron-zemo-trash @ilikechocolatemilkh @justforthedead89 @alienace @4nemo1egend @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @breealtair @shinekocreator @sleepdeprivedflower @justanothergirlwithobsessions

@bxlthazar @thegingervulcan @questionablequeeries @my2amgaythoughts @doilooklikebees @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @luthienstormblessed @joruni @drinkingforthesociallyanxious @largechaos @dangdirtydemons @faery-god

@satan-is-obsessed @vi-an-te @beckkthewreck @kori-dearest @the-s-is-silent @hellomynameismoo @commonxsenss @blues-tunes @lizard-dyk3 @the-long-gone-souls @paddington22017 @imeverycliche @tungledotfuck @inmoonywetrust @dreammetheworld08 @dazedandinked @escapingthereality

#Nico's writing #Ficlet #Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #st4 #stranger things fic #steddie fic #thank you to my bestie val for beta reading this one #cw f slur #y'know the standard 80s homophobia #it's only imagined though #nothing actually happens to them <3 #also fuck it im posting this at 3am #enjoy the breakfast y'all

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grays-matter · 11 days ago

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okay buckle up little gay monsterfuckers in my phone

MY THOUGHTS / A REVIEW OF VENOM 3: THE LAST DANCE. it only took the whole weekend to gather my thoughts. sheesh. I tried really hard to be coherent and not have any typos but they're probably inevitable.

(feel free to add on / build off this post if you want I WANT TO YAP)

First, the spoiler free portion:

Solid 5.9/10, A good movie, not great for the non-comics fan and also not good for the people ONLY there for the symbrock. This is about their conflicts. If you wanted a queer romance that isn't angst and constant separation and generally a victim of bad writing, this is not the character or movie for you. They're fucked up little guys and that's pretty well conveyed.

The movie doesn't deserve the horrendous tomatometer score it has right now, HOWEVER, it was not as good as the first two. It made some REALLY odd character choices but none that I'm entirely like, furious over although they peeve me slightly. It feels like a plot set up for some sort of spin off or, more than likely, a setup for Spider-Man 4 (elaboration below the cut, and spoilers, duh).

I go into the movie viewing it as just another universe, another set of stories for the character so I can push down the nerd in my brain going "ThAt'S nOt CoMiC aCcUrAtE!!" (he got out anyway sadly)

Good thing I'm not the average fan and run a blog where I yap about Venom!

Extremely Heavy Spoilers for Venom The Last Dance below the cut!!

I'll try to keep this as chronological as I can but I'm more talking about individual characters.

Starting off with a bang, Knull with the voice of Andy Serkis was utterly terrifying, this is the only point I went HOLY SHIT to audibly. I'm surprised by the use of the xenophages but they were quite fun actually I loved those.

YAY YIPEE SAVE THE DOGS

Some of the plane scenes from the trailer were cut :(. This movie needed more of those slightly comedic elements. With the precedent of comedy that was set in Venom and LTBC, I felt like this could have taken itself less serious and still been good, violent and dark (more on that in Vegas).

The relationship between eddie and venom was kinda regressed this movie idk what happened it made me sad. I know they were mad at eachother. Also yeah yeah best friend line whatever this wasn't queerbait to me. They're messy as fuck but I can still be dissapointed without yelling queerbait.

The Travel Sequence besides meeting Martin and his family could have been a montage. (Yes, even you venom horse).

THE KID. THE KID GIVING EDDIE CHOCOLATE AND VENOM TELLING EDDIE HE'D BE A GOOD DAD. <- wrecked me. I'm looking at You Venom War... Let Eddie be a dad at all 2024... This is the gayest moment of the whole movie. And y'know the creation of man shot with eddies hand and venom's tendril.

The only comedy being the vegas segment felt overdone it should have just be peppered throughout the movie. Vegas still could have happened just been less overwhelming. The suit he wore should have been made of Venom instead :/

Dr Payne needed more setup for me to actually care I liked her alot I wish I had more of her in conext of the movie. They could just not make me care about her. Like what are they doing with that End reveal of Agony?? Trying to sell fortnite skins?

I could have jumped out of my seat and climbed the fucking walls with how Rex Strickland was used. WHy did they just turn him into a different character. He's supposed to be a walking symbiote from the Vietnam days of experimentation that absorbed the codex of his original host.

I mean maybe he was but he seemed a little shocked at all that symbiote info and yknow. He bleeds. And more importantly, where WAS HIS MUSTACHE. I liked the Ve'nam book and his intoduction (one of the few stories of KiB and AC that I liked) so I thought the use of him in the movie was just a very odd character choice but I was so excited to be like "I know that guy!" to be really mad about it.

also. My favorite character tag holds so true in this movie. cause that guy??? that guy rex was helping during the xenophage attack??? the guy who got his legs woodchippered off just above the knee? FLASH IS THAT YOU????

*shakes sony by the shoulders* Sony. Sony if you fuck up a Flash Thompson Agent Venom movie. SO HELP ME GOD. I think I'd drop dead of mortal embarrasment that that's my favorite little guy.

I wish Mulligan and Lasher lived longer. Having lasher with actually coherent dialogue was nice. And they looked really cool.

The ending...

Well. If you didn't watch the 2nd end credit scene I can see why your devastated. Also what was that capcut ass montage. Had me cringing cause what the fuck guys. All of our hope is in that silly little cockroach. and that symbiotes aren't weak to acid soooo V is fine.

Felt like agony should have shown up at the begining of the fight. Instead of like. the very end. Shes cool I like her and i think it's funny that they're Payne and Agony. But like I said before they just could not make me care.

The final battle with Hybrid showing up and the other unnamed symbiotes zipping around was really fun actually. The credits were so long cause of all the cgi artists on this movie. Also the venomized animals in the credits were hilarious. WHY PUT GRENDEL IN THERE THOUGH IF REX ISNT A SYMBIOTE???

Unanswered questions:

1. Mulligan was abandonded by his previous symbiote, which we now from the LTBC end credit scene was Toxin. Where is Toxin now?

2. Is Rex Strickland alive? We know he gets his acid burn on his face, will we see his return in another movie?

3. What happened to the glob of venom that got left behind in the mcu when Eddie dissapeared? because we know it happened in both universes. Did Bartender get it? Is Bartender the MCU's Eddie Brock? But as I've posted before Bartender is catholic and has reasons to hate spiderman.

4. Who owes Eddie in New York?

I'll add onto this once I see the movie again but these are my thoughts for now.

#venom the last dance #venom 3 #venom 3 spoilers #venom the last dance spoilers #venom spoilers #venom movie #symbrock #I FEEL INSANE #venom tld #venom tld spoilers #venom symbiote #eddie brock #venom movies #venom movies spoilers #ok no more tags here bc tagging other characters would be spoilers

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count-geiger · 1 month ago

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alright guys i got a surprise class cancellation so i can tell yall about the stb dress rehearsal show last night and how it went. this is gonna be a long one grab a drink

no JUICY DEETS if you were expecting that. i am not a leaker and will never be. more like a gushy review than anything

so if you wanna hear about how will wood now knows about my university’s garfield club, feel free to read.

first of all, i can’t actually say much about the content of the show itself. sorry if that’s what you were hoping for but, if you’re going to a show on the tour, YOU WILL THANK ME LATER.

however i can say some stuff

like first of all: it is very much a kind of theatrical performance. no shit sherlock, you may be saying. okay sure but what i mean by that is that it’s not JUST a concert.

it’s very narrative based, that’s the most i’m going to say on it.

additionally, based on stuff ww said after the show while everyone talking feedback and such…

after the tour starts, PLEASE DO NOT POST SPOILERS ON TUMBLR!!! this is the kind of thing you’re going to want to see without any idea going in.

like it’s also very much a comedy show and knowing all the jokes beforehand will kinda ruin it.

so if you wanna post about the show on tumblr after you’ve seen it, maybe like. tag it or something. or put under a cut.

anyways i digress

the show was absolutely fantastic

genuinely the most wonderful i’ve ever seen in my entire life

i laughed my ass off, i cried a little, i thought way too hard about my own life decisions

all the things you’d ever want

it was NOT what i expected it to be. but it was even better than whatever i was expecting

so PLEASE take my word that all of you are going to love it.

okay that train of thought is over anyways

the vending machine at the studio only took ones (LITERALLY FUCK OFF THATS SO DUMB) so i spent most of the show with the driest mouth known to man

i’d had a sprite from said vending machine when i first got there because they also don’t have any water in it (????????) but not even like a whole can it got warm super fast

that’s just a random aside

multiple people complimented both my button down shirt AND the oingo boingo shirt i had underneath

including will’s girlfriend!! who is very pretty and seems very very nice.

she took our phones at the doors and checked our IDs and such and she was fine with the fact that i do not own a piece of ID that confirms my date of birth so that was cool.

the phone pouches we had were handmade by her apparently! they were really cool and she did a great job

anyways

i met will after the show after trying to offer feedback while we were still doing that that and stumbling through my horrific brain fog to say nothing of value because i was terribly sleep deprived!

me and jay (@jayjamjary) went at the same time

now some background.

me and jay are friends IRL, we go to the same college. people who both A. follow me and B. consistently read my ramblings in the tags will know this. but there are like three of those people AND i’m putting tags on this post so yeah

anyways we are both members of the executive board of the (officially recognized) GARFIELD CLUB at our university.

i am dead serious

and because the garfield club’s primary demographic is gay/trans autistic people, there’s a huge population of will wood fans in that club.

so jay brought two excellent drawings he’d made for the club, originally to recruit members, for will to sign.

because we have garfield show and tell contest on wednesday and we wanted to fuckin win

ANYWAYS.

these drawings, by the way, just happened to be of garfield being crucified and of garfield as hatsune miku.

will’s reaction to seeing these drawings was, and i quote, “what the fuck”

his reaction to the existence of the garfield club was, and i quote, “what the fuck”

both like a very amused, bewildered what the fuck.

he then signed them with possibly the greatest thing he’s ever signed ANYTHING and i’ll have to force jay to post them.

anyways

i also showed him a drawing i made for him, because i wanted to make a drawing for him.

he said my drawing was really really cool and he was really happy that i got his nose right because he never sees that

i was SO happy to hear that i was like ready to cry i was scared that drawing sucked

cuz i just did in the course of like a few hours while sitting at a random table in a big room on campus and all that whatever

but like yeah he called his girlfriend over she complimented it too

he signed it!!!

we took a picture and it looked a million times better than the two other pictures i have with him so that’s great

anyways

i’m trying very pointedly to avoid saying anything about the actual show because i want people to be able to go in blind

because *i* did and it was amazing

and i’m so glad that the show i’m going to is going to be super different apparently so i’ll ALSO have no idea what to expect from that

also, for anyone curious, i’m going to asbury park/halloween show november 3rd (and im going as young ford pines, specifically that time in tbob when he was possessed by bill, so if you see that there, that’s me)

anyways

man take shot anytime i say anyways

you’ll be fuckin dead

i had a great night, it was a spectacular show, you’re all gonna love it when you see it

#will wood #wwattw #wwatt #slouching towards bethlehem tour #will wood tour #will wood and the tapeworms

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ninjadeathblade · 8 months ago

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Shopping Trip (Lego Monkie Kid fanfic)

Summary: The majority of the gang goes shopping. Then Wukong and Macaque play video games.

Warnings: Brief threats, Wukong and Macaque have issues to work through (they're also very dumb about the fact they love each other), swearing

Word count: 6,072

Author's notes: This would NOT leave me alone so here fandom, take the gays residing in my brain for the last two days. Sandy isn't here because I had no idea what he'd be doing. This is 90% indulgent Shadowpeach content for myself but hey, that's something. This is set post Emperor's Wrath. Enjoy.

“Hey, Monkey King, why d'you always wear your fancy robes?” MK questioned after the three of them took a break from training.

Macaque stifled a laugh, looking over at Wukong and revelling in the confusion on his face.

“What do you mean?” Wukong asked around a mouthful of peach flavoured crisps, crunching noisily on them.

MK shrugged and gestured. “You and Macaque always wear your fancy clothes whenever you come and just hang out with us, you can't be comfortable in it.”

“Look, kid, I hate to break it to you but we don't actually own any other clothes,” Macaque replied.

“I can make some though!” Wukong exclaimed, one hand already reaching to yank hair out of his head.

MK and Macaque rushed to stop him, the former tackling his hand still holding the bag of crisps, while the latter reached through a shadow portal to grab his wrist.

“Quit it Wukong, you already eat enough of your hair as it is, no point in you wearing it as well,” Macaque said with an eye roll.

MK’s eyes went round as saucers. “Please tell me that those crisps aren't hair.”

Wukong averted his gaze with a nervous laugh. “Whaaaaat? No, pfft, I'm not that- er-”

“Monkey King! You promised to start eating proper food!” MK whined, poking him in the cheek.

Wukong sighed. “Yeah yeah, I am, kid, I promise, now can I have my arms back?”

Macaque glared at him over MK's head, getting a returning glare.

MK gasped and jumped up, waving his arms wildly. “Oh my gosh, I know just what we should do?”

“Yuh-huh and what's that?” Wukong asked.

“Mei keeps telling me about this super cool new shopping centre that opened up the other week!” MK explained. “What if we all had a day out there and you guys can pick out some comfy clothes for hanging out with us?!”

Macaque shook his head. “Look, kid, I appreciate it but-”

He went silent as something yanked his tail, head whipping around to catch another tail quickly retreating to Wukong's side.

Oh that little-

“It's an amazing idea!” Wukong replied with a grin. “Let us know when you want to do it and we'll be there.”

“Funny how you now speak for both of us,” Macaque muttered, opening up a shadow portal beside him and reaching through to yank Wukong's tail.

The king turned to glare at the warrior, Macaque shooting him a shit-eating grin in return.

“Okay! I'm gonna go, I'm working this evening but I'll see you guys for training again tomorrow!” MK said before beginning to run back down the mountain. “Thanks again for the training!”

A beat went by before the two of them turned to each other.

“You know you could be more supportive of the kid,” Wukong snapped.

“Me? Really? Last I checked you were the one who abandoned his training!” Macaque argued, standing up. “Because that's what you always do isn't it? The great Sun-Wukong who always puts himself first.”

Wukong's jaw clenched, tail lashing behind him, and for a moment it seemed like they were going to fight again.

Then the king's shoulders heaved and his posture slouched. “Can we not do this right now?”

Macaque rolled his shoulders, the joints clicking slightly. “Running off again?”

“Can you stop?!” Wukong shouted. “I don't know what you want from me but you're not gonna get a rise. I'm done with this - with you always trying to bait me into another fight. I have people to look out for now.”

Macaque scoffed. “You can't tell me you actually care about the kid.”

“Bold words from someone who also cares about him,” Wukong retorted and Macaque's fur bristled. “Oh yeah, don't think I haven't noticed. While I was off doing very important things, you kept showing back up. Some part of you does actually care about MK, be honest.”

“Nope, doesn't sound like me,” Macaque stated, tail tapping against the ground twice as he opened up a shadow portal. “See you around, Monkey King.”

Wukong dashed forward, one arm outstretched. “No, wait, Macaque-”

The darkness surrounding him.

Silence.

Well, it wasn't quite silent, it sounded like everything was muffled and underwater.

Macaque took a deep breath, artificial air expanding his lungs.

Wukong was still there although it was like seeing him through murky glass, thumping a fist against the shadows on the ground before giving up and walking away.

Macaque floated in the inky expanse, debating on whether or not to return to his dojo before deciding that he would just stay here for now.

It was peaceful.

It was everything that outside wasn't.

~•~

“Hey boi!” Mei cheered, tackling MK into a hug before waving at Wukong. “Heya Monkey King!”

“Hey,” Wukong waved, pulling his loaned hoodie further over his head. “Hey bud, you sure that no one's gonna recognise me in this?”

“I dunno honestly but if not you can transform, right?” MK argued.

“Fair point.”

“I still do not understand why I have to be here,” Red Son complained, foot tapping impatiently. “If we are all here then can we go already?”

“No, sorry, we're still waiting on someone else,” Tang answered.

“Who else are we waiting for?” Wukong questioned. “The pig guy?”

Tang adjusted his scarf. “Oh no, Pigsy is at that food stall over there shouting at the chef because he sold us half baked churros while we were waiting.” He paused. “Speaking of, I'm going to go stop Pigsy before he ends up in too much trouble.”

“Literally who else would MK invite?” Wukong's eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don't even understand why Red Son is here.”

“Hey!”

“I swear if you invited Nezha then this is going to be the most boring shopping trip ever.”

“Ugh, I wish he'd invited Nezha, then I'd have someone else to make fun of you with.”

Wukong spun around with a curse, glaring at their final arrival, who hadn't even bothered with a disguise.

“Great, just great.”

Macaque shrugged. “Hey, I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here. Only reason I'm tagging along is that I was planning to grab some food anyway.”

“But we're meant to be clothes shopping,” Mei interrupted, eyes watery as she stared up at the warrior.

“Yeah Macaque, you promised,” MK added, also staring up with large eyes.

“Look kid I didn't-” The warrior paused and sighed. “Fine, I'll buy some clothes. But I'm picking what I get, not you guys.”

The two of them let out a cheer and rushed back over to Red Son, beginning to drag him in the direction of a shop.

“I cannot believe that I'm gonna have to put up with you today,” Wukong groaned as the two of them set off after the trio.

“Hey, you're the one who volunteered me for this so if there's anyone to blame it's yourself,” Macaque responded.

Mei and MK had seemed to immediately start piling clothes into their arms, occasionally thrusting some pieces into Red Son's arms.

Wukong stumbled backwards slightly when MK seemed to just appear in front of him, holding up two pairs of pyjamas. “Hey Monkey King! Should we get these matching Monkey King™ pyjamas?”

“Hey kiddo, I'm wearing a disguise for a reason so maybe keep your voice down,” Wukong chuckled. “But yeah, absolutely.”

The king turned to glare at Macaque when the warrior snickered.

“Something funny?”

“No, it's nothing,” Macaque lied, one hand coming up to try and cover the smile on his face.

Wukong let out a loud, over-dramatic gasp. “Are you making fun of my bond with my apprentice? Are you making fun of our super duper cool friendship?”

“No,” Macaque sputtered, trying to get his laughter under control.

Wukong leaned in, poking him in the face. “You are! How could you?”

Macaque stopped trying to contain his laughter at the theatrics, golden eyes screwing up tight as he nearly doubled over.

Wukong's smile wavered as his gaze flitted across the warrior's face.

He knew realistically why Macaque would cover up his eye.

Seeing his unmarred face and having these moments made it almost seem like nothing had ever gone wrong between them.

When Macaque straightened up again he shot Wukong a quick glance, accompanied with a shy smile before returning his attention to the shop in front of them. “C'mon then, no point standing around all day. Gotta find you something to wear other than pyjamas.”

“Yeah and we've gotta find you anything to wear,” Wukong teased. “What do you even wear? Like, leather jacket and grunge aesthetic boots.”

“How the fuck do you know what an aesthetic is?” Macaque swore, turning back to face him.

The king shrugged nonchalantly and grinned. “What can I say, I guess I'm just cool like the kids are.”

The warrior snorted. “Yeah right, the day that you're cool is the day I haven't died before.”

A silence fell between them at that comment and something flickered over Macaque's features.

Wukong reached out to him before the shadow slipped away from him, walking over to a rack of darkly coloured clothes.

There was so much they still needed to talk about.

Macaque flicked through the different hanging articles before smirking. “So, what about the fact that Red Son has a crush on either MK or Mei?”

“Wait, what?” Wukong spluttered.

“When the three of them were together back there, Red Son was blushing and stuff. Can't tell which of them is making him fall for them but I'm not actually that surprised.”

Wukong stood stock still for a moment, doing a mental reboot while Macaque moved on.

“Wait, no, hold on you little shit, are you for real?” Wukong questioned.

Macaque nodded. “When we catch up to them, just watch. I wouldn't lie, would I?”

“I dunno, seems like you lie a lot.” Wukong narrowed his eyes dubiously.

“Well, I'm not lying about that.”

They wandered for a little longer before managing to catch up with the trio.

Okay, Wukong had to hand it to Macaque, Red Son did seem to be blushing.

“Hey, Monkey King, you made it! We lost you back there!” MK cheered before turning back to Mei. “Ooh, Mei, do you still have the thing we picked out for Macaque?”

“Kid I don't-”

“Found it!” Mei announced, holding up the black mesh shirt.

Macaque's gaze dragged over it before extending a hand. “Okay, I'll try it on.”

Wukong did a double take. “You like mesh?”

“Haven't tried it before but it looks cool enough. If I can get something to go over it then I'd probably like it.”

Red Son held up a black sleeveless turtleneck shirt from the pile in his arms. “Something like this?”

Macaque shifted the first shirt in his grip before reaching out for the other. “Sounds good.”

“Oh and there are some dark coloured jeans by the changing rooms, wanna grab a pair of those?” MK offered.

“Mhm.”

Wukong trailed behind the bunch of them, briefly wondering where Tang and Pigsy had gotten to.

Him and MK plopped down onto a bench just outside the changing rooms, MK's stack of clothes beside him.

“I'm gonna try them on after the others have tried theirs,” MK explained. “Wait a minute, why don't you have anything Monkey King?”

“Um, well, I just didn't see anything I liked all that much, bud,” Wukong lied.

“Oh okay.”

The boy got out his phone, playing some obnoxiously loud game while they waited for the others to get changed.

“Okay, we're done!” Mei called after a while.

“Come out then!” MK shouted back, shutting his phone off and putting it back in his pocket.

“Macaque, you coming?”

“Nope.”

“Aw, come on, pretty please? You look great!”

“...Fine.”

Mei stepped out, practically dragging Red Son and Macaque with her.

And wow, Macaque actually looked kind of good.

The clothes actually suited him.

The warrior wrenched Mei's iron grip off his arm before grumpily crossing his arms over his chest.

“Woah, you guys look awesome!” MK gasped, clapping his hands together.

Macaque rolled his eyes and frowned when he looked over at Wukong. “Quit staring, Wukong, don't you know it's impolite?”

Wukong smirked. “Thought you said I was impolite.”

“Yeah, I know that you are. Doesn't mean you have to give me more reasons for it,” the warrior complained before looking over at Mei. “Hey, can we wrap this up and buy this stuff already?”

“Nu-uh, we've still got loads of outfits to try on! You and Monkey King can wait here while we finish checking all these sick clothes out,” Mei replied.

Macaque grumbled something under his breath before going back to the changing room.

Three pairs of eyes turned to Wukong. “He's just always kinda cranky, trust me.”

“I heard that!”

~•~

“Ugh, how much sugar did you even put in that thing?” Macaque asked, nose wrinkling with disgust at the sweet scent coming off of Wukong's drink.

Wukong moved the glass away from his face, a bit of cream smeared on his nose. “Um, I dunno. It has chocolate, ice cream, sprinkles, some more chocolate, some normal cream, some kinda sweet milk, caramel-”

Macaque reached out and grabbed the drink out of his hand while he was distracted listing ingredients, holding it out of his reach. “You are going to clog an artery if you have that much sugar.”

Wukong pouted. “Macaque! Gimme back my drink!”

Macaque opened up a shadow portal under his hand, hovering the drink just above it. “You aren't going to have all of it to yourself or you will die.”

“I'm immortal, I can't die,” Wukong retorted.

Oh yeah.

“You aren't going to have it all to yourself or I'll steal all the wine you're hiding at your place.”

Wukong's eyes went wide and he leaned across Macaque, desperately attempting to grab it. “No! No! Fine, I'll share! Just gimme the drink!”

Macaque dropped the drink through the shadow portal, watching as Wukong's face fell.

As the king turned back to the table the warrior opened a portal again, depositing the drink - now with two straws - back in front of him.

“Come on, if you're going to clog an artery then I might as well do it with you.”

Wukong shot him a quick glare but moved the glass so it was between them.

Red Son slid back into their booth. “They're still ordering but wanted me to say they'll be back soon.”

Macaque glanced over to the counter where Mei and MK seemed to be arguing over the menu of sweet treats.

“May I ask a question?” Red Son asked.

“You just did,” Wukong teased.

The boy rolled his eyes. “May I ask another question after the one I am asking at this moment?”

“Mmmmkay.”

Macaque lowered his head to take a sip of the drink, throat burning at how sickly sweet it was.

He'd never understand how Wukong could stomach these things.

“Are you two in a relationship?”

Macaque choked on his drink and Wukong hit him on the back a few times while replying.

“No, never! Me? With him? Tch, as if! He's so- him! And I'm so me!” The king answered.

Macaque gulped in a lungful of air after recovering. “This is the one time we agree on something and it's that we are not a thing. I hate him, he makes me feel like my skin is on the outside and my fur is on the inside. I'd rather have my heart served up on a platter to the Lady Bone Demon than go out with him.”

“Ew, did you have to be so graphic?” Wukong complained. “You're gonna put me off my drink.”

“Good. It tastes like shit.”

“Because you have no tastes.”

“I do have tastes. Anyway, you seemed to conveniently leave out the fact that this drink is peach flavoured.”

Wukong shrugged and smiled. “It's my favourite.”

“You sure you didn't make this out of your hair?” Macaque questioned, lip curling in disgust.

Red Son huffed. “No, I paid for his drink. And there's no need for you two to be so defensive.”

“We're back!” MK announced, flopping down against Red Son's side. “What did we miss?”

“Ah, yes, you are back,” Red Son flustered.

Macaque and Wukong shared a look.

So that's who Red Son liked then.

“Duh, that's what I just said,” MK laughed.

“We ordered every dessert they had!” Mei announced.

“Oh no,” Macaque whispered.

“Oh yes,” Wukong purred, eyes lighting up. “Desserts for everyone!”

The warrior dropped his head to rest against the table, grimacing at how sticky it seemed to be. “Why did I ever let myself be dragged along here?”

“Because you're our friend!” MK said.

“Greeaaaat.”

~•~

“Omg, these stationary sets are so naturecore, I have to have them for my aesthetics blog,” Mei gasped.

Wukong nudged Macaque to grab his attention before whispering. “Hey, d'you have any idea what that means?”

“No idea,” Macaque admitted. “As established earlier, I know aesthetic but that's about it.” The warrior smirked. “Aren't you the one who's ‘cool like the kids are’?”

“Shuddup,” Wukong laughed.

Macaque's tail flicked up to hit him in the back of the head before looking around. “So, we kinda lost Pigsy and Tang at the start.”

“Yeah, it'll be fine,” the king replied calmly, waving it off.

“Maybe for you. I for one would like to not be on kid sitting duty for the next decade.”

“It's only been two hours,” Wukong stated, snickering at the defeated groan Macaque let out. “What's wrong? Too old to keep up?”

“Wha- no,” Macaque denied sourly before continuing. “My feet hurt though. I'm not used to walking around this much. Usually I just use my shadows to get places.”

Wukong sighed before holding out his arms.

The warrior stared blankly at him.

“Climb on, I'll carry you,” the king offered.

Macaque immediately began to walk away from him. “Nope, nu-uh, never happening, find someone else prince fucking charming.”

“Come on Macaque, your pride won't be that wounded if you let yourself take a break,” Wukong whined, following him.

The shadow’s tail lashed behind him as he walked through the aisles of the shop, trying to catch up to wherever the other three had run off to. “I'll take a break when I get home later. Feet being sore isn't the worst thing I've had to deal with.”

Unspoken words hung between them and Wukong followed Macaque silently until they reached the trio, staring at row upon row of cards.

“Hey guys, whatcha looking at?” Wukong inquired, propping his head on MK's shoulder.

“We're helping Mei pick out a card for her dad's birthday,” MK explained.

“You could make one,” Red Son added. “Although didn't you say it's tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Mei groaned. “I was so busy helping MK train that I forgot.”

“You forgor,” MK said.

“I forgor,” Mei affirmed.

Wukong straightened back up, whispering. “What language is this?”

“No idea,” Macaque said.

“No idea what?” Mei asked.

“Nothing.”

“‘kay.”

Wukong smiled at Macaque.

The shadow returned it with a small quirk of his mouth.

It wasn't much but it was better than it had been.

~•~

“That's it, I am not being dragged into a spa, I'm calling Pigsy,” Macaque said, digging his phone out his pocket.

“You have Pigsy's number?” Wukong asked beside him before continuing. “You have a phone?”

“Yeah, and?” Macaque tapped onto his contacts. “Got Pigsy's number after the kid crashed out at my place one time. Also he makes good noodles.”

“I know right?” Wukong agreed, mouth practically watering.

“Hello! Pigsy's Noodles, how can I-”

“Cut the crap Pigsy, your kids are trying to drag me into a spa and I know that you and Tang are still somewhere in this shopping centre.”

“Oh fuc- okay, where are you guys, I'll come and get ‘em,” Pigsy sighed.

“Seventh floor, top right corner, next to the arcade place.”

“Wait, there's an arcade place next door and they chose to go to the spa instead?” Tang questioned.

“Red Son is trying to convince us all to get princess pamper sessions before we get wrecked and lose all our money to useless games,” Macaque explained.

“That'd do it. We'll be there in a few.”

Macaque hung up, quirking an eyebrow at Wukong's sad expression. “What do you want now?”

“You're gonna ruin their fun,” Wukong complained, gesturing at where the three others were currently crashed out on a bench.

“No, I'm just getting us the rest of the evening off,” Macaque argued.

When Wukong still looked upset he sighed.

“If I play your shitty game this evening will that make it up to you?”

Wukong brightened up. “Yes! Although it isn't shitty, take that back.”

“Maybe. Depends on how good your game is.”

Macaque looked over at the trio. “Hey, Red Son, a word.”

The boy seemed sheepish as he walked over, a sharp contrast to his usual confident demeanour. “Yes?”

“You break MK’s heart and I'll break all your bones,” Macaque snarled quietly.

“Okay so you're just coming out with it,” Wukong muttered.

“P-pardon?” Red Son stuttered, hair letting off embers.

“You aren't subtle. So you heard me. If you break his heart, I will break all your bones.”

Red Son swallowed thickly. “Y-yes sir.”

“Good.”

MK walked up beside them. “What're you guys talking about?”

“We were just saying goodbye,” Wukong supplied, somehow having come up with a good excuse for once in his long life.

“Oh cool. I'm sleeping around Red Son's tonight so won't be able to make it to training tomorrow, is that okay?” MK said.

Macaque subtly shot Red Son a glare while he replied to MK. “That's fine, see you in a few days kid.”

The warrior opened up a shadow underneath himself and the king.

“No, no, no, no, no, not the shadow portal!”

~•~

“Ugh, I think I'm gonna throw up,” Wukong complained as he dropped out of the shadow portal.

“Too bad, you fly your cloud recklessly and the shadows are quicker,” Macaque replied, dropping down beside him before opening up their shared bag of shopping purchases and grabbing out a handful of clothes. “I'm gonna get changed then I'm ordering actual food for dinner.”

“But my way is cheaper!”

“Yeah, and it'll have you hacking up furballs until your eventual death, Wukong,” Macaque snorted, shutting himself into the bathroom.

Wukong rooted around in the bag and grabbed out one of the plain shirts he'd picked out, slipping off his robes and putting on the black t-shirt before grabbing a pair of loose blue jeans out of the bag.

The king settled down on the sofa, aimlessly flicking through channels on his TV until his tail brushed against someone else.

Wukong lifted his head up, staring at Macaque.

The warrior practically had a halo of light around his head from the setting sun behind him, a sliver of yellow fabric visible under his dark hoodie.

“Hey. You up for burning off some energy?” Macaque proposed and Wukong was in his feet within seconds.

“We haven't fought in ages,” Wukong sceptically tested.

Macaque shrugged. “Nothing serious. But I need to stretch out my limbs and test how flexible I am in these clothes.”

Wukong dragged his eyes up and down Macaque. “Mhm, because ripped jeans are gonna be sooo easy to move around in. Prepare to be beat.”

Macaque smirked, sweeping out one leg and knocking Wukong off balance.

“H-hey! No fair!” Wukong growled, reaching up and tugging Macaque down with the edge of his hoodie.

The warrior let out a squeak, collapsing down beside the king before going still.

“Oh shit. Macaque? You good, bud?” Wukong questioned, moving closer.

Macaque spun around, hands catching Wukong's and pinning them against the floor. “I cannot believe you just fell for that.”

“Yeah, well, it's been years since you played that card while we've fought,” Wukong argued, one leg kicking out and into Macaque's stomach.

The warrior's grip on his hands loosened, allowing the king to flip the two of them over as he hovered over him.

His hands closed around Macaque's, mimicking the move just used on him.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” Wukong challenged.

Macaque just laughed and rolled his eyes, opening up a shadow portal underneath himself.

Wukong pulled back, watching as the other sank into the floor and disappeared before a weight crashed down on his back.

“Fuck! Macaque!”

“Got you now,” Macaque taunted, the two of them rolling back and forth until Macaque pinned Wukong down.

The warrior was just shy of sitting on him, chest heaving as he breathed.

Wukong sighed. “Yeah, alright Mac, you win, now get off of me.”

The shadow paused, golden eyes staring at him.

“What?” Wukong inquired.

“You haven't called me Mac since- since before,” Macaque stated, his grip on Wukong's hands loosening.

Orange and pink hues of light shone off of his dark fur.

It was beautiful.

He was beautiful.

“No, no I guess not,” Wukong murmured.

Macaque rolled onto the floor beside him, both of them staring up at the ceiling.

“So, if Red Son does break MK's heart we are absolutely going to ruin his life, right?” Macaque questioned.

Wukong rolled onto his side, staring at Macaque.

Tufts of dark hair stuck up in different directions, framing his face.

The king reached out with a hand before hesitating when the warrior flinched, eyes closing.

A long moment passed, before Macaque quickly got up, with a mumbled sentence. “I'm going to order dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” Wukong responded, mentally kicking himself.

Of course Macaque still didn't trust him, why should he?

After everything Wukong had done, he had no reason to.

“Hey, Wukong, how many portions should I order you?” Macaque asked, one hand muffling the bottom of his phone.

“Three, if that's okay,” Wukong answered.

Macaque nodded before continuing to quietly speak to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Wukong walked back over to the sofa, sitting down and trying to avoid looking at his friend.

Huh.

When had he started thinking of Macaque as a friend again?

The other side of the sofa dipped as weight settled down on it.

“I'm sorry for flinching,” Macaque whispered. “Really going against my therapy goals.”

Wukong blinked before looking over at him. “You go to therapy?”

Macaque's tail wrapped across his chest, curling over his opposite shoulder. “Well, I'm trying. Kind of hard though when most therapists are mortal and I have issues with opening up about things from my past.”

The shadow let out a deep breath before slowly relaxing against the king's side. “Is… is this okay?”

“Yeah, no, of course,” Wukong flustered a bit, shifting so that Macaque would be more comfortable.

Wukong turned so his back was resting against the arm of the sofa, one arm circling around Macaque's waist.

The warrior tensed under his touch slightly before relaxing back against him, pillowing his head on the king's chest. “You sure you're okay with this?”

“Geez Mac, I'm fine,” Wukong responded. “Are we gonna start playing my game now or d'you want to wait until after dinner?”

“After dinner. I want to get some rest in,” Macaque sighed, opening up a shadow portal over the top half of his head. “I'll wake up when the food gets delivered, I'll hear it. You should get some rest too.”

“Yeah alright. You get some rest.”

“Thanks Wukong.”

“No problem bud.”

~•~

Macaque's ear flicked inside the portal as footsteps ran up to the door of his dojo.

“Hold on,” he murmured to Wukong, unsure whether his friend was even awake before sitting up and slipping his upper body through the shadow portal.

“Knock knock!” The delivery boy shouted as Macaque reached over to open the door.

MK grinned and held up the couple of bags in his arms. “Hey Macaque! This is more than you usually order.”

“Yeah, well, I've got company,” Macaque said evasively.

“Is it Monkey King?”

“Nah, I have other friends,” Macaque lied, reaching out with one hand for the bags. “Aren’t you meant to be staying around Red Son's?”

“Yeah, I'm headed there after this,” MK explained.

“Have a good sleepover, kid.”

“You too Macaque!”

“No, kid, I'm not having a-”

“Bye Macaque!”

The shadow sighed, shutting and locking his door before slipping back through the portal to Wukong's house.

The king was still passed out on the sofa, snoring at an obnoxious volume.

Or perhaps it was actually quiet, and Macaque's sensitive hearing was getting to him more than usual.

“Hey, wake up.”

Wukong blinked awake, sitting up before his mouth watered at the sight of the takeaway bags. “Oh yes.”

Macaque rolled his eyes but passed over the three portions Wukong had asked for. “You know, if you keep eating that many portions then you're going to get fat.”

Wukong let out an offended gasp before shovelling some of the noodles into his open mouth. “No I'm not.”

“You are,” Macaque replied, teasingly poking him on the stomach. “See? Round.”

“It's cushioning. For when I may somehow end up on the floor,” Wukong explained.

“Because I beat you up,” Macaque snickered, opening up his own meal while Wukong began to dig into his second.

“Shuddup.”

“Make me,” Macaque challenged, tail lashing behind him.

Wukong's golden gaze flitted across him before he went back to his meal.

“That's what I thought.”

After they'd finished their meal, Macaque let out a sigh. “Alright then, put on your crappy game.”

“It's not crappy!” Wukong protested, already digging through the piles of DVDs in front of his TV. “Alright, found it. Get ready for the best game you'll ever play.”

“I highly doubt it,” Macaque mumbled, nearly dropping the headset and controller thrown haphazardly in his general direction.

“What was that?”

“I said ‘I highly doubt it’,” Macaque deadpanned. “This won't be anywhere near as good as my game.”

“You have a game?” Wukong laughed, plopping back down on the sofa beside him. “Okay, that I have to play after you're done with this.”

Macaque let out a grumble but adjusted the headset before putting it on, slouching against Wukong's side as the game registered him in.

An avatar looking surprisingly like him loaded in on a dirt path, a chicken running out of a bush in front of him before glitching and dying.

“Wow. What a surprise, I was right, this game sucks,” Macaque huffed.

The king's tail flicked up to curl around the warrior's arm. “Aww, c'mon Mac, give it a chance at least.”

Macaque sighed but began to walk his character along the path, stopped only a second later as another character spawned in front of him.

“Welcome traveller, on your journey to the west!” The Monkey King greeted.

The background image switched so the character was pointing at himself. “As the Great Sage equal to Heaven, you couldn't ask for a better tutor.” The screen switched back to the first picture of him. “On your journey, you will learn to smite powerful enemies.”

God this was boring.

“After you complete the tutorials, you will learn how to access your hidden potential.”

Ugh, good, back to the overworld.

Now if he could just-

“Defeat each opponent to work your way up to the final boss, the Rhino King,” Monkey King said.

“Couldn't afford the rights for Demon Bull King?” Macaque joked, elbowing Wukong in the side.

“Nah, just seemed boring seeing as I already beat him.”

“Here are seventy two combos-”

Skip.

“Pay attention-”

Skip.

“Make many friends along the way,” Monkey King advised and Macaque tore off his headset.

“What the fuck is that background art?!” The shadow screamed.

The king grinned. “Flattering, right? You would not believe how quickly the game sold out.”

“That's atrocious!” Macaque shouted, hitting him on the head before putting the headset back on.

Yeah, no, he was skipping through all of this.

Eventually it let him go and unlock abilities.

“Hey, these are all passive,” Macaque pointed out.

“Just give it a moment,” Wukong instructed.

The monk on the screen sighed before it flicked to a different ability menu.

Macaque's eyes roved over the screen before he took off the headset.

“Really?”

“What?”

“A fucking muscle bro version of yourself in just pants taking up half the screen?” Macaque growled because it was very obvious why he was pissed.

Wukong smirked. “What? I think it's a good view.”

“Self obsessed asshole,” Macaque grumbled, trying to just focus on buying a couple of different attacks before giving up and handing the game controller and headset over to Wukong. “No, I can't do this, this is just something for you to admire yourself.”

“Fiiiiine,” Wukong groaned. “But I want to play your game now.”

Macaque opened up a shadow portal, sticking his arm in and rooting around. “Seriously though Wukong, are you trying to seduce the player or something?”

Wukong grinned slyly at him. “Are you saying I'm hot?”

Macaque's face screwed up. “...No.”

“That's it, the Six-eared Macaque thinks I'm hot!” Wukong shouted before getting up and racing to the entrance of his house and cupping his hands around his mouth. “The Six-eared Macaque thinks that Sun-Wukong, Great Sage equal to Heaven, is hot!”

“Shut up,” Macaque said, withdrawing his hand and tossing the game case to Wukong as he walked back over.

“It looks like it was made by a five year old mortal,” Wukong giggled but put the disc in anyway.

When the king settled back down on the sofa, the warrior stretched out, laying his upper body across his friend's lap.

“And what do you think you're doing?” Wukong questioned before slipping the headset on.

“Making myself comfy.”

“Yeah yeah, I'm gonna beat this game in minutes.”

A moment passed as the game loaded.

“Why does everything look like a crappy anime?” Wukong inquired.

“Fuck you.”

~•~

“This is the fourth time I've done this encounter and I still haven't beaten it!” Wukong whined, throwing the controller across the room.

“Aww, too hard for you?” Macaque teased, not even cracking open an eye.

“Pfft, n-no!” Wukong floundered, taking off the headset and putting it on the floor. “I'm just going to take a break.”

“Sure you are,” Macaque snorted, opening his eyes a sliver.

Wukong stared, stock still, not sure if Macaque had realised that the glamour over his eye was down.

The scar over that side of his face was still hidden, but mismatching gold and milk coloured eyes fixed a tired gaze on him.

“Staring is rude,” Macaque murmured.

Wukong blinked, looking away. “Yeah, sorry.”

Macaque sat up, stretching with a yawn, hoodie riding up his sides slightly and exposing the yellow shirt he had on underneath.

It was surprisingly nice to see Macaque in bright colours.

Wukong reached out a hand to skim over the dark fur that stuck up on one side of his head, smiling softly when Macaque didn't flinch away.

“Hey, are your ears okay?” Wukong suddenly asked.

Macaque turned to face him, eyes back to their glamoured gold again. “Huh?”

“Well we were at a pretty busy place for most of today so I was wondering whether it was hard on your ears.”

Macaque seemed to blush. “Oh, no, they're all okay.”

The king's hand dropped to skim closer to where another two pairs of ears had to be hidden on the warrior. “Can I see them again?”

Macaque's eyes went wide and Wukong quickly withdrew his hand. “I'm sorry, you don't have to-”

The glamours dropped.

Wukong couldn't help but stare at the hues of colour on Macaque's ears, having nearly forgotten them over the centuries.

But there they were again, still with such resplendent glory.

Moonlight shone through the window, catching the back of Macaque's face with rays of light that made him shine.

“Rude to stare,” Macaque repeated, seeming to curl in on himself slightly.

“You're beautiful,” Wukong murmured, trying to ingrain this in his memory.

Maybe then he would have something to keep when they eventually fought again.

And just like that the glamours were back up, hiding Macaque's appearance behind a facade.

“I- I should go,” Macaque stammered, standing up and conjuring a portal in the floor.

“No, Mac, wait, I'm sorry-”

Too late.

His warrior was gone again, leaving him alone again.

Wukong sighed and dropped his head against the back of the sofa. “Idiot.”

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