#the painting didn’t even show ass I just love drawing butts like that

[twistpixel]

Literally at a party drawing this shit on my phone. Stapling Missing fallen Angel posters to telephone polls

I’m really really trying to find a painting but I don’t know the artist or the year and really embarrassingly it’s for Jason reasons… AND I’m 99% sure the subject is Lucifer. So embarrassing

[cursestothemoon]

Imagine sucking on a lollipop all day to tease Fred but you act like you don’t know what you’re doing and he eventually gets too worked up and ends up fucking you real hard. Maybe you also put on your old school uniform and tease him. Basically some light ddlg with daddy Freddie

JEALOUS POSSESSIVE SEX WITH FRED!!!!

It could be a headcannon or blurb- whatever you want- but can it be with a fem!reader please 💕

I combined these two requests :)

a/n: i jUST REALIZED I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO MAKE IT DDLG WITH DADDY FRED OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY. I’ll write a separate ddlg, daddy kink piece for you, i am so sorry ☹️

Cherry Lollipops and Pleated Skirts

F.W. X FEM!READER

17+ IF YOU ARE TAGGED AND DON’T WANT TO BE TAGGED IN SMUT PLEASE LET ME KNOW

warnings: NSFW, vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, spanking, slight exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation, slight praise, dom!Fred, sub!reader, UNEDITED

No one expected the show to be so busy on a random Friday, but it was busting at the seams. Since the doors were opened at eight o'clock this morning, people had been piling into the shop and stealing your boyfriend's attention along with his twins.

At first, you understood the shop was important and you'd rather business be booming than have their dreams fall apart... but six hours of Fred not even having the time to spare you glance has catalyzed a faint change of heart.

You need him.

The flat above the shop- where you live with Fred and George- was incredibly boring without the boys. You had half a mind to throw caution to the wind, Fred's rules be damned, and use your own hand to get yourself to cum.

Fred had been beyond cruel with his early morning teasing, both of you assuming it would be a light work day and he'd find time to sneak off so you two could go at. At this point you were sure Fred was so busy he forgot about the predicament he left you in, you couldn't blame him- you wanted to- but you couldn't so you decided it would be best to subtly remind him.

You pulled out your old Hogwarts skirt and white button up shirt, with the skirt barely fitting as an appropriate garment to wear out in public. Your hips, thighs, and ass had all filled out as you blossomed into mid adulthood much to your-and Fred’s- pleasant surprise. The dark grey pleated skirt went just below the curve of your ass and brushed the tops of your thighs. The shirt still fit roughly the same, you tucked it into the skirt and left the top few buttons open revealing the soft skin of your chest along with a dark purple love bite peaking out from just under the limp collar.

You made your way down to the shop, a skip in your step as you thought out a plan. The hard candy and lollipop section was just a few feet away from the stairs leading to the upstairs flat, the stairs you were descending, and they were exactly what you were looking for. Picking up a cherry lollipop- you had convinced the twins to bring in a few muggle sweets to the shop- you unwrapped it as you walked over to the till and delicately placed it in your mouth.

"Should I even ask?" George laughed as he took the seven sickles you held out to him.

You shrugged, "You really wanna know?"

He shuddered making you smirk, "You're right. Last I saw him he was by the pepper imps."

The butterflies of anticipation multiplied as you gave George a beaming smile before turning to walk toward the pepper imps.

"And I'd like to keep my shop up and running, so please no funny business in the store."

You shot him a wink over your shoulder before sauntering over to where Fred was. The pepper imps were towards the front of the store but still tucked away in a corner, and as you neared them you could see a crouched Fred looking through the shelves and writing down on his clip board. You took a minute to look him up and down, his hands holding the pen and board making the items look ridiculously toy like, and his bent knees crouching position immediately drew your eyes to the curve of his butt. Averting your eyes from his backside, your gaze followed the lines of his forearms. He had his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and the writing caused his arm to flex every so often making you almost drop the cherry flavored sucker from your mouth.

Gently shaking your head and moving the lollipop from one side of your mouth to the other, you brought yourself back to reality and took slow steps to stand next to Fred. You pretended to browse through the shelves as he remained focused on his task.

Fred could sense someone standing next to him, and it took him a mere few seconds to realize it was you. He could be blind folded in a room full of people and he would be able to pick you out in a second from your perfume alone. It was his favorite smell, the way it mixed and mingled with your natural scent was intoxicating. His eyes fluttered shut as he took in your scent, before he turned his head assuming to meet your eyes- only it was your bare thigh that his nose was just about touching when he turned his head.

You watched as his eyes slowly travelled up the expanse of your leg, stopping for a moment when he reached the hem of your skirt, before continuing up until he met your eyes. They were big, bright, and teasingly innocent as your beautiful lips were wrapped around the top half of a big, round, cherry red lolly.

"Seems I've missed an imp." He smirked, extending his legs and raising to his full height.

"Maybe you should get back down there and count again." You suggested sweetly, pulling the lollipop out of your mouth with a pop.

Fred's eyes followed the sucker as you put it back into your mouth and started sucking on it, a faint hitch of his breath could be heard as you pushed it further back into your mouth. He looked around to see if anyone else was seeing the act you were putting on, luckily the corner seemed to be the only deserted spot in the packed shop.

"I'm busy, love, don't be a bad girl." His voice was low and soft as he spoke.

"But Freddie," You whined, drawing out his name before lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "I need you."

Fred plucked the lollipop from between your thumb and forefinger before sticking it into his mouth with a smile.

"Good girls wait, you wanna be a good girl don't you?"

You nodded eagerly.

His eyes racked down your body one more time, his lips slightly parted and tongue prodding at the lollipop hanging out of his mouth as he smirked.

"Good, now go changed before someone sees what's mine."

It was clear this wasn't just a suggestion. He placed the lollipop back into your mouth and gently pushed your chin up to close your lips around the sucker before bending down to place a kiss on your forehead and nudge you in the direction you came from.

With a huff you walked back to the till with slumped shoulders and a sour impression making George giggle at your expression.

"Has he rejected your womanly charm and seduction?" The younger twin joked, earning himself a shove to the shoulder as you joined him behind the till.

You kept George company as he helped customers check out, your lollipop helping keep you occupied as time dragged on. Your elbows rested on the counter, your body bent over the surface while you watched the people in the shop.

Unbeknownst to you, Fred couldn't seem to get his eyes off of your form. The way you were resting against the counter had the hem of your skirt kissing the underside of your ass and he was sure if he could stand behind you he'd see your underwear peaking out from under the garment. The thought of throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you up to the flat was a tempting one, but he had enough willpower- or so he hoped- to resist the urge.

His willpower seems to be running thin, though, when he caught sight of some short bloke eyeing you up. The man wasn’t someone Fred was familiar with, and the way he was practically eye fucking you while you joked with George at the counter didn’t have Fred begging to get to know him. 

The guy continued to openly ogle at you, making Fred start to lose his temper as he restocked the edible death marks. He couldn’t tell if you had noticed or not, but you continued to swirl your tongue around that damned lollipop that not only made his pants far too tight but was probably affecting the man whore in aisle three the same way. 

With one final flick of your tongue against the sucker, Fred noticed the man start to make his way over to you, a sleazy smirk stretched across his lips. He tossed the rest of the edible dark marks onto the table with no regards to organization and took long strides to get to your side. 

You were mid conversation with George about the new girl he was seeing when you felt Fred wrap a firm, calloused hand around your wrist and tug you into his chest. 

“Everything al-” Fred cut you off with a large hand spread over your jaw, forcing your head to angle up, and pulling you into a heated kiss after plucking the lollipop from your lips. 

He held you to his chest as your body practically went limp in his arms, anything to just keep your lips locked with his. Fred kept his hand on your neck, moving it just slightly back to keep your head tilted back so he could deepen the kiss while his hand around your waist pulled your hips as close to his as possible- also trying not to get the sticky sweet sucker stuck on your skirt. 

The kiss left you breathless, your chest heaving as his lips moved to the underside of your jaw with heavy kisses. You almost forgot where you were with the way Fred was firmly holding your jaw and moving it himself so he could better access to the skin. Unfortunately, it was George who brought you back to reality making a soft blush paint your cheeks. Fred hung his head, nose prodding at your neck as he smirked before pulling away and standing straight. He popped your sucker into his mouth, a clinking against his teeth sounded as his tongue moved the sugary sweet hard-candy around in his mouth. His eyes were creased into a mocking squint as he stared down the now incredibly uncomfortable looking man. 

Fred didn’t wait for him to walk away, instead focusing his attention back on you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, nudging you in the direction of the stairs that led upstairs to the flat. 

“Oi! Where are you going?” George shouted just as you let out a loud giggle, Fred had smacked the underside of your butt as you climbed up the steps ahead of him. 

Fred turned to look at his brother, eye dropping into a wink, “I’m taking my lunch break.”

You giggled all the way through the flat and into your shared bedroom, Fred walking next to you with long strides and an arm wrapped around your shoulders, his hand holding the column of your neck. 

Fred closed the door to your bedroom before turning to you, he gave you an appraising look as he toyed with the lollipop still in his mouth. 

“You think this is cute?” 

His tone made your eyes shift and bottom lip jut, you were in trouble. 

“Walking into the shop dressed like a fucking whore...You just want attention, huh?”

“I wasn’t even paying attention to him! I was just waiting for you like you told me.”

Fred stopped for a moment, “...I never mentioned that bloke looking at you.”

Your eyes went wide realizing you gave away more than you should of.

“On your fucking knees.”

In record time your knees hit the hardwood floor, slowly crawling over to Fred. Your eyes were trained on the lollipop moving around his mouth and you think you understood just how agonizing it must’ve been for Fred all day to watch you sucking on it.

Upon reaching his legs, you worked quickly to unbutton his trousers and pull them down along with his boxers. You wrapped a hand around his semi hard cock, the weight of him in your hands made arousal start to pool in your panties. Your tongue replaced your hand, licking a broad stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip before placing a kiss on the spongy head while making eye contact with Fred through your lashes. The act made him shudder, his hand moving to grab the side of your head and fingers carding through your hair. Taking him into your mouth, you could feel each ridge and vein with your tongue making you moan around his shaft. 

“Bunny’s mouth was made for my cock, yeah?” Fred asked with a grunt as you slowly started to bob your head. 

You nodded as best you could but focused back on hollowing your cheeks and taking him to the back of your throat. His head hit the back of your throat making you let out a small gag before adjusting to breathing through your nose. Once adjusted you started to bob your head faster, your hands gripping his thighs hard enough to leave marks. 

Fred groaned around the lollipop still in his mouth- though now significantly smaller- his hips starting to thrust in sync with your mouth moving up and down his shaft. His breathe hitched when your hand started to massage his balls, tugging and rolling to get him to his release. 

The louder he got the closer you knew he was, so you started to suck harder and move faster. His fist closed around a makeshift ponytail in his palm, using it to tug you off of his cock. Your mouth made a pop sound as you were pulled off his prick, and you let out a whine at the loss of his taste. 

“Gonna cum in your- no...in my pussy.” Fred smirked, bringing you to stand on your feet and pulling your head back so you were forced to look up at him. 

He brought up his other hand to grasp the thin, white, stick of the sucker hanging from his lips and pulled the lollipop from his mouth. He used the red sugary bead that was left on the stick to gesture up and down your body as he spoke.

“Clothes off...save for the skirt.” He demanded, pointing at the pleated grey skirt with the lollipop. 

You were quick to do as you were told, shirt dropping to the floor along with your bra and panties all while Fred watched with dark eyes and an aura of possessiveness. 

Silently, Fred pointed the white stick toward the bed- the lollipop finally had reached its end- never taking his eyes off of your now nearly naked form. You practically skipped over to the bed, climbing up onto it slowly as to make sure Fred got a good glimpse of your bare cunt under your skirt. It was clear that you had succeeded when he let out low, barely audible, groan. 

Before you could real get a grip on what was happening, Fred had his fingers running up your slick folds, your skirt flipped up, drawing out a gasp from you. Moans fluttered past your parted lips as Fred started to rub small, tight circles on your aching clit. With the little white stick abandoned on the nightstand, his other hand was free to run up the inside of your thigh before his fingers moved to tease your entrance causing you to clench desperately around nothing. 

Fred gave you little time to adjust as he slipped his fingers into your entrance, thrusting in his middle and ring fingers roughly while his other hand still worked to stimulate your clit. Transitioning from tight circles to a flat hand rubbing back and forth harshly with more pressure had your back arching and eyes screwing shut. Fred continued to move his digits in a wave with each thrust, the pads of his fingers massaging the spongey area inside your pussy that had your toes curling. 

“F-Fuck, Freddie-” You gasped, hand gripping onto his wrist not knowing whether or not to pull his hand closer to your clit or push it away. 

Fred leaned over your body, his mouth attaching to any skin he could reach to roughly bite and suck before he pulled away to huskily whisper into your ear, “Louder. Say it louder.” 

You were more than willing to abide, not having the will power to try and keep yourself quiet either way. Fred’s fingers continued to thrust into your cunt as your orgasm hit you, a vulgar squelching coming from the vigorous action that had your hips twitching and lifting off of the bed. His large hand came down onto your abdomen, pushing you back onto the bed as you rode through your climax. 

“That’s it. Made a mess all over your pretty little skirt.” Fred tutted, removing his hands from your body to start taking the rest of his clothes off. 

“M’ sorry.” You muttered quietly.

Fred shook his head before going you a teasing smile, “It’s alright, kitten, you’re forgiven this time.”

Your chest heaved as you watched Fred undress which was always a breathtaking sight. His cock was already painfully hard, the tip red and leaking precum making your over sensitive cunt ache. 

“On your knees, hands holding the headboard.” Fred instructed, smacking your thigh gently to get you to move quicker. 

With shaky knees you crawled over to the headboard and gripped the wooden edge, making sure to wiggle your butt in Fred’s direction as you did so. The bed dipped with Fred’s weight as he climbed up and positioned himself behind you, his right hand trailing up and down the line of your spine before grabbing a handful of your ass with a grip sure to leave a few faint bruises. 

Fred lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing into your tight walls. The way your pussy gripped him had his eyes rolling back and jaw going slack, it was a feeling he’d never get tired of no matter how many times he felt it. Adding the breathy moans and whimpers that left your mouth into the mix and he could barely keep himself from fucking into you roughly. 

You bit your lip at the slight discomfort that came with the stretch of Fred bottoming out, the fronts of his thighs flush against the backsides of your own as you both took a moment to adjust. You let out a choked gasp as Fred pulled almost completely out of your pulsing cunt, his prick slick with your juices. He had his hands on your hips, using this as an opportunity to pull you back to meet his thrusts. His pace quickly sped up, soon the sound of smacking skin, loud groans, and cried out moans filled the room as Fred fucked you hard. 

“Tell them who makes you feel good. Want the whole fucking shop to hear you.” Fred growled from behind you. 

And who were you to disobey him?

“Harder, F-Freddie. Fuck-”

Both of you were sure George could hear not only the animalistic growls and pornographic moans but also the bed frame ramming into the wall and the sound of skin smacking almost painfully.

Fred reach around to start massaging your clit, making you almost drop your hands from the headboard as your hips twitched toward him. 

“Whose cunt is this, huh? Whose fucking cunt?” 

Your vision was blurring and words slipping your mind as he continued to pound into you and stimulate your clit. 

“Say it.” 

“Yours-” You sobbed, second orgasm approaching. “All yours, Freddie.”

Fred smacked your clit making you jolt, “That’s fucking right.”

Your body started to shake as you started to release around Fred, the intense pulsing of your cunt had Fred spilling his load into with a stutter of his hips. He held you close, cock completely sheathed inside of your weeping pussy as you both came. 

Coming down from your highs, Fred pulled out of you and promptly left to grab a washcloth to clean you up. You collapsed onto the bed, skin balmy and limbs shaky as you waited for Fred to come back. When he did, reworked quickly to clean you up and dispose of the wash cloth before climbing back into the bed where you had found yourself. He got comfortable on his side before pulling you into his chest and having your limbs entangle with his own. You weren't sure where you ended and Fred started, just how you two liked it. 

Fred pressed a soft kiss to your forehead while his hand delicately run up and down your back and curve of your waist. 

“You should get back to the shop.” You muttered quietly, not really wanting to let him go. 

Fred hummed before moving his hand to cradle the back of your head and nuzzle you further into his neck and chest.

“I think Georgie will be just fine.”

tags:

@siriusement

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@theorangedrummer

@erinblack003

@famdomhideout

@an2402lths

@escapingrealitybyreading

@readyg0erge

@maybesandohnos

@therealhouseelvesofhogwarts

[donghyuckcuyhgnod]

SHOWER VISITS.

huang renjun x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (fem receiving), slapping, switch!renjun, a little bit of dirty talk

1.9k words

you sighed, pulling the spare key to the dorms out of your pocket. you had knocked on the door, but no one answered. walking in, you quietly took your shoes and coat off, walking further into the apartment, noticing the lack of crazy boys in the home. you call out for your boyfriend, renjun, getting no response in return. you swore he would be home all day. you’re about to turn around and leave, until the sound of a familiar, heavenly voice rings through your ears. you hear him hum a soft tune, and you realized that your boyfriend was in the shower. you smiled upon hearing his voice, thinking he was just the cutest thing for singing in the shower. 

you quickly and excitedly make your way to the bathroom, quietly opening the door and stepping inside. you could hear his voice clearly now, your heart melting into a puddle, along with your clothes on the ground, right next to his. you pried open the curtain just a little bit, a glimpse of renjun’s bare back greeting you. you bit your lip to contain your giggles, successfully stepping inside without him noticing. you slowly reached out, gently wrapping your arms around his back and resting your chin on his shoulder. he jumped with a small yelp, quickly turning his head to see you staring up at him with the prettiest love struck gaze.

“hi, baby,” you softly greeted him, leaning up and giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek as he sighed in relief.

“you scared the shit out of me, y/n! let me know next time, will you?” he lightly laughed, relaxing in your hold. you lightly poked his bottom, eliciting another yelp from your boyfriend as he turned around to face you. you giggled, “you’re so cute.”

renjun glared at you, a pout on his lips. “i’m almost done with my shower, y/n. must you interrupt it?” he whined like a child, slumping his shoulders as the water ran down his back. you clicked your tongue, reaching your arms out to your boyfriend and bringing him closer to you. you wrapped your arms around his neck, backing yourself against the shower wall and lifting one of your legs up to pull him closer to you. renjun’s eyes widened at the new position, his hands automatically going to your bare waist.

“you don’t want me to stay? i mean, i could leave and wait for you, if you want,” you whispered against his lips, looking into his eyes with a sultry gaze that made renjun weak at the knees. he gulped, knowing exactly what game you were playing (and extremely aware that you were going to win; and in this case, he wasn’t a sore loser).

“well, you can stay if you want,” renjun said, his pupils dilating in lust as his slowly hardening cock grazed your core. you sent him a seductive smile, licking your lips in anticipation. “i think i will stay. we’ll save water, hm?” you hummed, your lips just barely grazing his. you were driving him insane with all this teasing.

“when will the boys be home?” you asked, referring to the other dreamies that lived in the dorm. upon your arrival, you knew that renjun was alone. he breathlessly responded with a “not until later,” his patience running thin and his cock becoming hard. you noticed this, of course, sending him a mischievous smirk, his eyes never leaving your lips. all it took was a low and simple “good” from your end, before the two of you connected your lips in a hungry kiss.

both of you were devouring each other with utmost desire, clawing and nipping at each other as if it was a competition. renjun’s hands grazed your lower back before landing on your ass, eliciting a moan from you as he squeezed the supple skin. your lips left his, trailing kisses across his cheek, down to his jaw, and sucking on the skin of his neck as his breath began to get heavier. your hands gripped the side of his neck, and renjun could feel your finger nails lightly digging into the back of his scalp. you laced your fingers in his hair, pulling on the dark locks and allowing yourself to devour his dripping wet neck. renjun moaned at this, his cock fully hard.

“fuck,” he breathed out as your hand traveled downwards, gently stroking his member as you continued to ravish his skin, creating a never-ending series of marks and bruises on his neck.

“i wanna taste you, baby,” your boyfriend whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. you whimpered at his words, giving him a chaste kiss before pushing him down to kneel on the shower floor. “then do it.”

renjun wasted no time, lifting up your leg and putting it on his shoulder as he dove between your legs. he placed a kitten lick to your clit, looking up at you through the wet locks of his hair. his dark eyes wide and blown out with lust, watching the way your face contorts in pleasure as he laps at your clit. his fingers found their way to your core, teasing you. your hand went to his hair, pushing his head further into you as he ate you out like a starved man. 

your moans and whimpers only spurred him on, his middle finger entering you as you cried out. he fingered you for what felt like hours before adding a second, sending waves of pleasure straight through your body. his mouth was working wonders on your clit, sucking and nipping in a way that made you see stars. his fingers were relentless, pumping in and out of you in the most delicious of ways, curling inside of you and hitting the spot that had your toes curling. the pleasure was too much, mixed with the mere sight of him between your legs, and you couldn’t help it anymore. 

the second he added a third finger, however, the knot in your stomach got even tighter and you found yourself grinding against his face, forcing him closer to you and his fingers deeper. renjun moaned at the tight grip you had on his hair, and that was all it took for you to come undone. your mouth opened in a silent scream, renjun’s free hand reaching up and tugging at your breast, increasing your pleasure as you came undone around his fingers with a desperate cry of his name. when he showed no signs of stopping, you pushed his head away and pulled him up to face you. 

“i need you inside me, baby. now,” you said breathlessly, hooking your arms around his neck as you pulled him into another feverish kiss. renjun whimpered at your urgency, pumping his member a few times before lining his tip up with your arousal-covered core. the stretch was painfully good, the familiar feeling drawing a noise of pleasure from the both of you. 

“fuck me, renjun,” you licked your lips, locking eyes with your boyfriend. he grunted, hooking his arms under your legs and lifting you up against the shower wall. holding onto his shoulders for support, your breath hitched as he found his pace, thrusting his hips in a slow but steady rhythm. his thrusts were sharp and deep, droplets from his wet hair and the running shower behind you making him look sexier than ever. 

your moans increased as his hips sped up, reaching for something, anything to hold onto. your hands gripped the shelf on the side of the shower, knocking the shampoo bottles straight off. neither of you flinched or even cared, all your focus on each other and the intense eye contact that neither of you wanted to break. you weren’t sure if it was the water or his own sweat, but the sheen layer of moisture on renjun’s body was clear, droplets of it dripping down the side of his face, his neck and down to his collarbones. the visual was a sight to see, and you were nearly at your limit the more you admired him. 

it seemed that renjun felt the same, because his eyes had finally left your own and were all over the place; focusing on your bouncing tits, and down to where your bodies were connected as his cock disappeared in your pussy. at last, his dark eyes landed on your neck, an open canvas just waiting to be painted with different hues of blue and purple. your hands tangled in his hair once again as his mouth left open-mouthed kisses on your neck, traveling down to your breasts. 

“fuck, renjun!’ you cried out, “i’m gonna cum, fuck, i’m gonna cum.”

“c’mom, baby. cum for me,” he said through gritted teeth, keeping his pace as he watched your face. you threw your head back against the tile, your lips parting in an ‘o’ shape as you moaned uncontrollably. your legs shook in his arms, your toes curling at the pleasure that your boyfriend provided you. barely giving you time to recover, renjun dropped you from his arms and turned your body around. 

your chest was against the tiles, your ass stuck out and giving renjun the view of his life. you wiggled your butt back towards him to show your impatience, causing a dark chuckle to leave his lips. his hands smoothed over the skin of your ass, before coming down and landing a loud slap to the supple skin, the sound resonating throughout the bathroom. your body jolted, a surprised giggle escaping your lips as you looked over your shoulder at your boyfriend. 

“impatient, are we?” he asked, prodding his tip at your entrance in a deliciously tortuous way that only renjun could do so well. 

“i think you know the answer to that, junnie,” you said, a smirk taking over your features as he slowly slid himself into you once again, filling you to the brim with his cock. he didn’t even give you time to think before he was slamming his hips into you, his hands gripping your hips with a bruise-inducing strength. 

“fuck, yeah, baby. your pussy was made for me,” renjun moaned, sending arousal straight to your core, a whimper leaving your lips at the sounds of your boyfriend’s honey sweet voice saying things so sinful. his thrusts were fast and impatient, your body being pushed up against the shower wall. renjun’s hands left your waist, taking a hold of your wrists and bringing them up and over your head. his chest pressed directly against your back, his voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he fucked you senseless. 

his thrusts became sloppy, his breathing and moans increasing with every thrust. you knew he was close, and the mere thought had sent your mind and your body into overdrive, the knot in your stomach coming undone for the third time. the way you clenched around renjun’s cock had him driving his hips impossibly faster into you, letting out a moan of your name as he quickly pulled out, his cum landing on your lower back, dripping down your ass as the both of you caught your breath. 

you looked back again, renjun’s head thrown back in bliss, his chest heaving up and down as his hand slowly pumped his cock of each and every drop. the sight never gets old. renjun noticed the mess he made on your body, soothing his hands over your hips as he admired the visual of you covered in his cum. 

he let out a breathless chuckle, “look at the mess we made, baby. good thing we’re already in the shower.” 

all rights reserved, © euphoriclele 2021

[the-slasher-files]

hewwo :3 can I have michael (og), the ghostface duo, and bo with a shy chubby s/o pls? if u wanna write for it ofc

this is adorable... now I am the complete opposite of shy so if I missed the mark I’m sorry. Also added a few more slashers :) hope you enjoy🔪💕

MASTERLIST 

SLASHERS WITH A SHY, CHUBBY S/O

INCLUDES, JASON, MICHAEL, BO, VINCENT, BILLY & STU

JASON VOORHEES

When I say he adores you.. he FUCKING ADORES YOU

Honestly this is probably Jason’s perfect s/o ngl

You are so soft in your nature and your body so he just wants to hold you constantly, you have now become his backpack

Jason literally doesn’t care what you look like so your curves and little belly isn’t something he thinks about being insecurities

If you are insecure about parts of your body he will kiss and hold that part all the time, making sure you know he loves you and your body

Doesn’t matter what your weight is the man will pick you up with ease everyday

Jason loves LOVES your hips and that’s where his hands are always going to be

Your shy nature he finds very cute, it reminds him of himself especially when he was young and he wants to protect you at all costs

You never need to talk if you don’t want to, it’s all in the body language, Jason is mute so it doesn’t matter to him

Once when people rolled into camp you had been on a walk and ran into them. They tried to ask you questions about why you were there but you got too shy and just kind of ran away, you had been so used to not ever seeing people out here that it was extremely difficult to talk to anyone else but Jason. As you ran away you heard the teenage boys laugh and call you names

ooooh boy Jason heard that from the bushes and now you’ve made his s/o cry... Let’s just say he didn’t wait until it was dark and the scene was one of most gruesome he had ever produced

MICHAEL MYERS

Much like Jason, Mikey doesn’t care about what you look like or what your nature is, he is just obsessed

This is a giant man with inhuman strength so lifting you is literally like picking up a toy

Your shy nature soothes him from his rage and you might even be able to tame the man a little, not a lot but a little

He is quiet so your quietness will never bug him, honestly Michael will probably prefer someone quiet over someone louder... as long as you scream in terror every once and while when he is chasing you or having sex then that’s fine by him

When you are out and about with Michael stalking you, if he hears anyone talking about your curves or shy character, welp they’re gonna die.. that’s it

Even if you’re at work and your boss gets mad when you don’t speak up or lead on a project, they're dead

You are perfect to him and anyone that doesn’t see that is in for a life ending experience

Michael is a leg man all the way and loves your butt and thighs specifically. Sorry but he will mark the soft skin of our inner thigh either by his mouth, hands or with his knife, you are his and that much is clear

*slaps your thighs* *thighs giggle* *Michael smirks* he likes the giggle

When you’re falling asleep he loves to trace your stretch marks with his fingers

BO SINCLAIR  

Now now now, we all know Bo is the most cocky and superficial man ever, so when you walk into Ambrose he is floored at your different demeanour and your curvy body

Fuck he loves it... you’re so different from all the girls before

Honestly you relax him and when Bo rages things can get very ugly but once he sees you, your gentle smile and worry in your soft eyes, he melts

If you thought he was handsy with other women, boy you better sit down for this one... CONSTANTLY wandering hands from your thighs to hips to boobs to arms, man is everywhere

Bo just wants to always explore your body like a wonder because he has only had stick-thin women before. Your body is his playground

Finding your shy nature adorable he is also going to tease you about it, since he is your exact opposite

If it really bothers you, you are going to have to tell him and probably break down crying before he stops mentioning your shyness... Bo is just a chronic asshole

Trophy wall photos and belts are gone immediately if he notices you’re insecure about the women he has kept before

When people come into Ambrose and the one time you try to help lure people in, you got too nervous to speak and almost made a fool of yourself until Bo jumped in, talking about various things in the town and snaking his arm around your waist allowing you to snuggle into his clothes, hiding from the “tourists”  

Bo more often than not will have you just stay in the house while he lures people in

VINCENT SINCLAIR

When you stroll into Ambrose man goes wild when he first sees you *whispers to Bo* they’re mine

Like a lot of the other slashers, Vincent doesn’t care what you look like he just adores you in every way

We all know from the movie this boy has power, so don’t ever worry about him not being able to lift you, he just does it with ease, and all the time

Vincent has seen and “worked” with many different body shapes but there is just something about yours he cannot stop thinking about

He will make sculptures, candles and paintings of your body shape, every curve and stretch mark is art to him

Like Jason, if you’re insecure about a certain thing in your body the man will make it his favourite, could be by always holding it or drawing it. You are his most brilliant piece of art and Vincent is going to show you

Since the guy can’t or doesn’t talk you guys are going to have your own little language, from body language to signing

He will pick up on your subtleties. If you’re nervous and rubbing your palms man is going to notice. If you are feeling very shy and hanging your head Vincent is going to pick you up and bring you downstairs to the place where it is just the two of you

Your shy nature resembles his in a lot of ways, so you two just get each other

Bo might push you to be out and about when he is luring people in to make it seem more realistic, but if you don’t want to or are just to shy, Vinny is going to fight Bo on that, and fight him hard... never mess with his s/o

BILLY AND STU

They literally cannot get enough of you... talk about handsy my lord

They’re both so outgoing that sometimes it is hard for them to understand you, Billy is defiantly better at getting you but you might have to speak up to get them to notice you

With that being said, they will bring out your wild/louder side

Honestly their favourite thing is at the end of the night, watching a horror movie with you and cuddling.. you’re just so soft

Stu loves your thighs with a passion, he always has to have a hand on them, and be grabbing them and pulling them apart

Billy adores your ass and boobs, be careful of him smacking your ass all the time lol  

Good thing they’re both so outgoing because you don’t even need to speak they will happily do it for you

Since these two are very social creatures you will bring them down a notch with that, they will be just happy to chill at home with you instead of partying

If they do manage to get you out with friends, Billy will be the one to notice if you’re getting shy or nervous and he will just wrap an arm around your waist, hold you and let his scent calm you down.. sorry but Stu is sort of oblivious  

[oklcmc]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀،̲،̲⠀⠀⠀𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝟏𝟖+]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀゛⠀I left that sexy dress out on the bed with a note there layin’ for ya with directions where I’m waiting with dinner and waiter for ya! ⠀〟

summary：⠀⠀⠀‘’⠀⠀⠀An imagine turned drabble⸝ dating back as late as April of twenty-eighteen in which Kendrick and his long-term fiancée⸝ Rachel try to prove to their close friends and family that sex isn’t the core of their engagement. Heavily based on the Martin ❪1992❫ episode Whoop! There It Ain’t.⠀⠀⠀‘’

word count：518

pairing：kendrick⸝ circa 2017？ ✕ black!female oc ❪lorraine ward❫

forewarning：this drabble contains sexual content and strong language thus far. read at your own discretion.

fun-size playlist：i. big sean⸝ chris brown ⅋ ty dolla $ign - play no games

author’s note：⠀⠀⠀‘’⠀⠀⠀Y’all know how infatuated me and my husband are with the television show⸝ Martin⸝ so it had to be done⸝ but oh my God⸝ guys⸝ I must confess to just how butt I was with writing smut during this phase within my life! It’s a wonder I hadn’t actually fell through with finishing it off! It’s atrocious⸝ for real. My husband didn’t deserve this⸝ like at all. I’m not sayin’ I’m the best with writing it nowadays either⸝ but God have I came a long way! That’s the main reason as to why I’m posting these；To see my growth with writing from then to now. To humble myself. Hopefully you guys can see it too.

I’ve always had this thing of being really apprehensive when it comes down to writing about Ken⸝ but especially with imagines because I want to be 1000% sure that I’m depicting his character right. I literally want his imagine(s) to top whatever I have posted before now. I think that’s another reason as to why I hadn’t finished this one and LOVE. which will more than likely be posted sometime tomorrow afternoon. After that’s said and done⸝ we’re going back to the drawing board for Kenny even if it’s not following my previous update schedule. I’m sorry⸝ but this has to be done for my own sanity. The other shit can wait⸝ even Underground Combat! What Cookie say？ ‘I gotta put me first⸝ Lucious!’ It would be lovely if I can have it out in time for his thirty-fifth Birthday⸝ but I’m not even going to put that type of pressure on myself right now. Last chapter of Underground Combat was already frustrating enough with reaching a deadline in time. I’ma just go with the flow this time around and see just how rewarding the outcome’ll be for myself. God willing⸝ I’ll revamp this plot one day⸝ so don’t steal it! I’ll see y’all then! Happy readings!  ⠀⠀⠀‘’

Hollywood Hills⸝ Los Angeles⸝ California ⋆ July 10⸝ 2017

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓

⠀⠀⠀𝓣HE COUPLE LEFT BEHIND MORE traces in the master bathroom of one of their few close friend’s rented Hollywood Hills pad with their expeditious love-making than those that could be found at a crime scene.

The body-hugging salmon pink satin gown with a V-neck that showcased her small bust and two thigh-high slits that blatantly gave off the fact that she wasn’t wearing any panties which not only was his favorite article of clothing to see her laced in, but the main reason as to why they had ended up in this predicament to begin with was now pooling the sink’s glass countertop like a coat of fresh paint. She swore out that if even the smallest of specs were to end up on that dress before the night were over with, their session would be done for, and so he went through great lengths to ensure that those few minutes of pure bliss that they shared amongst one another were the most memorable.

The lower half of her body dangled from the countertop with the support of only one of his dainty hands palming her bare ass cheek, the other pressed firmly up against the mirror behind them just as she had been dangling from the intense orgasm she had built in the last fifteen minutes.

She could feel her lower back bruising against the steel rim of the glass countertop and her Swaroviski crystal-embellished gold metallic Giuseppe Zannoti Coline sandals slipping from both heels of her feet each and every time his body came crashing into hers.

If it weren’t for her best friend’s colleagues mingling in the living room area right above their heads, she would’ve drove him further by screaming out his name, but she instead channeled the pain and pleasure she was enduring by clenching his 2018 Fall Season Versace print T-Shirt into her fists and burying her face within the crook of his neck, being cautious not to leave her foundation lingering behind just as much as his cologne had been.

“Ooh, Kendrick!” She squeaked, so desperate to meet the toe-curling, joint stiffening, stargazing orgasm they both had been chasing for the past fifteen minutes.

Her body was sinking like an anchor from the countertop, her thighs locking around his torso and her vaginal walls contracting around him like never before. All he could do was work against it. His hand went from smudging the mirror behind them to wrapping around her neck in order to keep her afloat as he mercilessly pounded himself inside of her.

“Shit, Rae, let it go!” Kendrick grunted, giving her a few encouraging slaps to her ass, causing her eyes to roll to the back of her head and her top alignment of teeth to close in over her bottom lip. She without a doubt loved that shit, and he knew it just from the way her thighs quaked.

“I’m cum’n, I’m cum’n, I’m cum’n, baby! Fuck!” She repeated, releasing herself not even a second later.

Now that his primary focus of keeping his woman satisfied had been accomplished, he could finally set it on himself.

[oftenderweapons]

Can you write a drabble about jealous taehyung with lace? Ty 🥺

So... I had to brainstorm with my dear mate abt this one since we never really saw Taehyung as someone who could be openly jealous or would even consider the feeling, since we see him as a confident person, and even more than that, we think that he and Lace are very open about trust and loyalty. We think that both of them would be happy with introducing a third party in the bedroom — not on a regular basis though. Lace is a sucker for Taehyung — and Taehyung alone; he knows it, and he also knows that he has a beautiful girlfriend who is bound to attract people’s attention and make them believe that they can flirt with her. Still, Lace gives the cold shoulder to anyone but her man.

HOWEVER

We found out a potential loophole.

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Lace)

Wordcount: 1.5k (sorry, I got carried away)

Genre: angst/smut/fluff

Rating: 18+

TRIGGER WARNINGS: uhm, there are dirty thoughts in the middle (mild) and smut at the end (mention of oral male receiving, female receiving, rough penetration, biting). Possessive!Tae. Takes place a few weeks after Love Talk and mentions a few events in Illicit Affairs (which should — hopefully — come out soon).

As you walked down the long corridor of the small gallery, Taehyung tried not to notice — or better, not to care about — the young artist waiting by the door, walking several steps behind you.

Taehyung’s hand twitched before he shoved it in his pocket. He wanted to touch you.

Having that... that vulture staring at you... It made his stomach sour.

Maybe it was because this was your first date after having you all to himself, after knowing how you taste and how you moan, how your breasts flush when you’re about to cum, how good it feels to grip your hips while you ride him, to feel his fingers sink in the flesh of your ass.

He took his hands out of his pockets and joined them behind his back, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to calm down.

You stopped in front of a picture, observing it for a moment. It was a hyper-realistic painting of a watermelon sculpted into a cube, placed there in the middle of the white canvas. It was truly the game of a virtuoso.

“Impressive.” You said, before turning toward the man about a metre or two away. “How long did it take?” You asked nicely, still impressed by the amount of details: the seeds, the small veins, the grainy texture of the watermelon.

“About three months.” He replied. “I had started it as a still life, but I changed my mind and redid it with a more... Surrealistic approach.” He explained.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his annoyance at bait, licking his lip before biting it. “Good job.” He said, trying to be grateful even though he wanted to rip the man’s eyes away from his skull.

The only thing holding him back was that he didn’t know how you would react to that. And if you would ever love his fingers as much after seeing him perform such a crude act.

You smiled at the artist and took a few steps to the next painting, this time a basket of cherries — only barely visible from behind a lace curtain. It was alarmingly realistic, truly breathtaking in the amount of precision poured into every small thread making the see-through effect. “Wow.” You commented under your breath.

Taehyung thought about how different his style was from these pictures. Sure, they were very good and they showed great talent, but that didn’t mean that he would want one in his own house.

“I was in Greece when I made that one.” The artist explained. “Beautiful country. Have you ever been there?” He asked.

You turned, making your light summer gown twirl in the motion, exposing more of your calves and the soft skin of the inner side of the knee as the slit parted, the plump, soft flesh of your thigh still protected by the row of small buttons that ran from your belly button to your knees.

Taehyung thought you were too beautiful for this universe. Nevertheless, as he stared at you and the artist there, right in front of his face, he felt actually menaced, for the first time. Something ugly slithered around his chest, tightening and tightening as your calm, composed voice said: “No, I’ve never been to Greece. I’ve only ever visited Jeju once, and I’ve travelled to Japan a couple times but normally I don’t get the chance to travel much.” You explained, blushing.

He would take you all around the world, Taehyung thought. He would spend Christmas with you in the Alps and make love to you in Amsterdam for your birthday, and of course, he would take you to Greece, feed you grapes and cherries and damn watermelon too. He would have you in white, light clothes and take pictures of you standing by the sea, your bright, flowy skirts contrasting with the deep blue of the sea — like the one he saw in Malta. He would rent a small house away from anyone and watch you sunbathe naked, with no one interrupting him as he drew you again, and again and again, until his hand could draw you with his eyes closed. He would leave the windows always open, the long white curtains flowing in the breeze as he would wake up from his afternoon nap and wrap his naked body around yours, kissing you and rubbing against you until you were nothing but two bodies melting into each other, like an embrace could naturally slide into passionate lovemaking. He couldn’t even think about nights. Nights were something he was too weak to think about.

Lost in his musings, he didn’t even realise your visit had come to an end, the gallery empty just like it had been when you had arrived, booked for a private visit for Taehyung and you alone, for safety and viewing pleasure.

“Thank you for visiting,” the artist said, bowing to Taehyung.

“Thank you for guiding us,” Taehyung replied. “I’ll let you know if I find any of the pictures fit.”

“Of course.” The artist said, kindly.

Taehyung nodded and was ready to leave the moment he heard the artist speak again. “Excuse me, miss, I’d like to ask... I’ve been working on portraits for my new collection, and I would be extremely pleased if you would pose for me.” He said. “I don’t usually... I usually book professional models but I thought someone with your looks could be really interesting to portray.” He explained. “I can leave you... Uhm.” He rummaged in his pocket and offered you a small piece of paper. His business card. Stealing a pen from the entry table, he wrote something on it. “I’d be honoured.” He commented, offering you the card.

You raised your eyebrows and smiled. “Thank you. I can already tell you I don’t think I’ll accept.” You looked at the floor. “I don’t have much spare time and I’m a bit too uncomfortable when people stare at me.” You chuckled embarrassedly. “Plus, I don’t think my boyfriend would be very happy with it.” You said, giving him a hint.

Taehyung was furious, still he kept all his inner turmoil to himself. Until you reached the car. The moment you sat at his side on the passenger’s seat, he started the car and began driving silently.

“Are you upset?” You asked, looking at him, keeping all the enthusiasm about the exhibition to yourself. You were more than capable to divide the artist from the person behind it. He was talented, maybe a bit sleazy as a person — and a bit too flirty — but still, talented. Plus, Taehyung hadn’t made it clear that he was with you as your boyfriend.

Taehyung tutted. “No.” He replied.

“Did he make you uncomfortable?” You could feel his mood poison the air in the car like dark waves of black oil covering the surface of the sea. It reminded you of a scene from Howl’s Moving Castle, when the young, beautiful wizard gets depressed and all his house starts getting covered in green slime.

“I’m okay.”

Catching his free hand, you placed it on your thigh pulling it toward the inner side.

He couldn’t resist, his thumb immediately drawing slow, lazy circles on the smooth, tender skin.

You noticed him taking the route to his apartment. “Aren’t we going out for dinner?”

“Mh.” He noted, counting the minutes until he could claim you all to himself.

“Do I need to un-book?” You asked with a mischievous grin.

He looked at you, his mouth forming a slow, insecure smile before he nodded in reply.

The rest of the night is a fuzzy memory of his mouth hungry and his hands grabby on the lift on your way up to his apartment, the shape of him hard in your palm as you entered the door, your attempt at offering him a blowjob, already lowering yourself to one knee before he pulled you up.

“That’s generous of you but I need inside.” He growled as he walked the both of you to his bedroom.

You didn’t even remember anything of him undressing you, it was all a whirlwind of limbs until you found yourself with your legs spread open and his mouth on your clit, his fingers stretching you before he stood on his knees and grabbed a condom.

You remembered his groan as he slid inside, your walls welcoming him with their tight embrace. “Dammit Lace, love this pussy.” He spoke through gritted teeth, your hands landing on his butt and pulling him toward you, inside you, harder, faster. “That’s my pussy.” He said, ramming in. “All mine.” He said, slowing down only to get the right angle. “My girlfriend.” He said, biting your breast, and giving the most precise jabs to your g-spot, suckling your tit, tugging at it, stretching it with his mouth before letting it fall back heavy to your chest. “My nymph. All mine. Mine.” He said again, your body too tense for speaking. Your high reached you as his fingers started toying with your bundle of nerves, rubbing it furiously until both you and him were nothing but two desperate beasts fucking each other.

“I love you.” He said, as soon as he was back to planet Earth, his body heavy on top of yours, his cheek glued to your chest with a mix of drool and sweat. “Love you, my precious dove.” He said again, rubbing the outside of your leg. “My love.” He repeated as you patted his head and reassured him yourself.

“Only yours.”

[silenceofthecookies]

Koala x reader (F): paint

My second entry for @some-piece​’s sapphic challenge, this time with Koala! This was a lot of fun to write 💖

When you mentioned to Koala that you were planning to paint a few rooms in your house in a different colour, she excitedly offered to help you. You didn't mention it to ask her for help and at first you even refused, knowing how busy she usually was with her work. She insisted though, and who were you to refuse your lovely girlfriend once she had made up her mind?

That's how the two of you were now clearing out as much as you could out of the bedroom, into the spare bedroom. Only your bed and the closet stayed, though they had been moved to the middle of the room. The bed would have to be disassembled to get it out of the room and you were not in the mood for that much effort, and if you wanted to get your closet out of the room, you'd have to empty it out, another thing you weren't in the mood for. You bought a large, plastic sheet to cover your bed and closet with though, hoping to keep them the same colour. Koala was already excitedly stirring the paint, chanting something in a language she was making up on the spot, as if she was a witch making a potion. The sight made you laugh. Before Koala could grab her brush and get started though, you reminded her that you'd need to put those newspapers on the floor next to the walls first, and that all light switches and electricity sockets still needed to be taped off.

“You know, Koala, you're oddly excited about this. Do you like painting?” You said as you were putting the tape on the sides of the light switch. “Yeah! I'm not very good at painting pictures though, but I like paint! I've also never painted a wall before! It feels a little like drawing on the wall, you know? Like the way people always told you ‘don't do that!’ but now you're allowed to do that!” Koala answered with a big smile. “Sweetheart, you're making no sense.” You said with a smile. “Pft, you're no fun.” Koala said with a pout, though you saw the corners of her mouth slowly lift as she spoke.

Once everything was covered and taped, you grabbed the brushes. Koala nearly jumped up and down once you handed her the brush.

“Koala, you do know you can't just randomly start painting on the wall, right?” “What do you mean?” “You have to make rows, moving up and down, and you have to be fast too. If you go over a part that has already dried, you'll get stripes.” “Eh?! So this is pretty difficult!” “Not really, here, I'll show you."

You started on the left side of your wall, painting the corner with your brush before handing it to Koala and taking the roller. It made the painting go much faster, and much more even than with the brush. Behind you, Koala commented on how fast it went before she said she understood. She took the brush you were done with and copied your movements on the next wall.  

With your combined efforts, the bedroom walls were painted in no time. As you finished up your second wall, you turned around and watched Koala, who had just started her second wall. Every time she bent down to reach the bottom of the wall, your eyes couldn't help but stare at your girlfriends lovely behind as she squatted. She was wearing a pair of leggings instead of her usual skirt, not wanting that one to get paint on it, and the sight was certainly one to behold.

“You know, I can basically feel you staring at my ass.” Koala commented without looking back, though you could hear the grin in her voice. “Do you mind?” You answered with a grin of your own. “Not at all.”

The two of you laughed as she finished up the wall. Once Koala stepped away from the wall and turned to you though, you started laughing even harder.

“What? What's so funny?” Koala asked. “Sweetheart, you have paint on your nose. Right on the tip. Did you do that on purpose?” “What? No way!” Koala tried to wipe it off her nose, but because her hands were covered in paint, this only created a bigger stain, causing you to laugh even harder. Koala realised what she had done and a little plan hatched in her head. Before you could even react, she bopped the roller she was still holding on your forehead. “Hey!” you exclaimed. “That's what you get for staring at my butt and then laughing at me!” Koala laughed.

A grin appeared on your face, and Koala knew very well what was coming. You grabbed the brush you had discarded earlier, dipped it in the paint and lunged at Koala. She nimbly dodged out of the way and made her way back to the wall she had just been painting, exchanging the roller for her own brush.

For the next 5 minutes, the two of you chased each other though the room, running circles around the furniture in the middle of it, painting each other's hands, arms and faces whenever they came in reach. The two of you laughed loudly as you did so, until Koala accidently pushed her brush into your mouth instead of against your cheek. It tasted terrible and you wasted no time running to the bathroom to rinse out your mouth. Koala felt pretty bad about it and headed towards the kitchen to get you a drink.

“I'm sorry dear, I didn't mean to do that.” she said as she offered you the drink. “I know, Koala. Let's just... stop the paint war here.” “Yeah, you're right. You look cute though. There's paint everywhere on your face.” “Have you seen yourself in the mirror yet, Koala?”

Koala shook her head and came to stand next to you in front of the bathroom mirror. What greeted her was the sight of two women, herself and you, completely covered in paint. Your faces, your hair, your necks, your clothes,… everything. As she looked at the sight in horror, you started laughing.

“Maybe we should take a shower, washing this off is going to be pain.” you sighed. “Does that mean we can shower together?” Koala asked excitedly. “Sure we can, we've got to make sure we don't miss any spots, right?” “Yaaaay!!!”

[elenatria]

I saw in "Papillon 2017" Michael Socha (Mikhail). We didn't discuss about Michael so often. I think he's so underrated. He was on set amongst with Rami Malek and Charlie Hunnam. He also attended the Papillon premiere in Edinburgh. He is a big fan of the Papillon book and 1973 original film. He had an appearance at the beginning of the film. And his character's name is Julot.

Ok but THIS is why I love anon asks, it’s amazing what kinds of info and film recs people share with me. I watched “God’s own country” because of an anon ask, same with “Radioactive” and now “Papillon”. Can’t say I have regretted it.

For starters omg I had no idea that Chernobyl’s “Mikhail” was in “Papillon”...?

I also didn’t know  Michael is a big fan of the Papillon book and the original film, or that he has Polish, English, Irish, and Italian ancestry. What a great coincidence though, he’s perhaps the only Chernobyl actor who shares a name with the character he played. 

Talking of Rami Malek and Charlie Hunnam, guys, GUYS, if you want heartbreaking bromance and buckets of gay coding, “Papillon” is your film. 

I’m gonna give a short description of most gay coding scenes so watch out because 

SPOILERS.

Henri Charrière aka 'Papillon' ( Charlie Hunnam) is imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit. He has the muscles and the know-how but he doesn’t have the money to bribe the right people and escape the hellish island they’re being sent to. But Louis Dega (Rami Malek) does. 

Papillon is quick to offer Dega his “protection” in exchange for money without promising to take Dega with him, but Dega turns him down; he trusts that his wife and well-paid lawyer will get him out of there asap.

Soon enough Dega realizes that he’s all alone and he has to rely on Papillon in order to survive (the prisoners know about his money), so he accepts Papi’s offer to cover each other’s back. Naturally they sleep next to each other and this is what happens:

Papillon wakes up only to find Dega’s arm draped over his shoulder. The look on his face as he removes the arm that has wandered off shows how perplexed he is, and Dega wakes up looking quite embarrassed.

But no matter how alien a male arm feels around him, seconds later Papillon has no qualms “accidentally” touching Dega’s hand, while Dega himself seems quite agitated by the unexpected contact. 

Later on there’s a bit of a misunderstanding concerning the money Dega has been hiding in a tube up his ass (butt plug, anyone?) but Papillon reassures him that he’d never rob him. So they’re openly flirting now.

To the point that everyone, and I mean everyone around them perceives them as a couple.

Soon enough we get the obligatory “attack in shower” scene. It seems Papillon is getting used to, or maybe just looking for reasons to touch Dega (even if just to warn him about the imminent danger) but don’t get your hopes up because Papillon is not ready for intimacy just yet. 

After Papillon gets rid of their attackers and goes back to rinsing the mud off him, just as Dega grabs his shoulder, he slaps the hand away.

He is in a state of shock and he knows very well why he put his life on the line to save the ass of that bespectacled forger. It’s not just about the money anymore: the intimacy is growing thick and he just. Won’t. Have it.

Dega now knows that he won’t survive prison without Papillon, that nobody’s waiting for him back home, and that he wants to follow Papillon no matter where he goes. Papillon is still in denial though. To him Dega is dead weight, or maybe an unnecessary temptation. 

 But Dega knows better.

At some point a guard beats Dega and lo and behold, it’s Papillon to the rescue  - again. He gets two years in isolation for attacking that guard, and all for the sake of his precious Dega.

Dega doesn’t forget. He even pays people to sneak coconuts into Papillon’s cell so as to keep his spirit and energy up.

And Papillon knows it’s Dega. He just knows. He mutters his name gratefully, like a prayer.

Two years in isolation have passed and Papillon is taken back. Dega has earned himself a higher place among prisoners (the head of the prison seems to have a soft spot for him so who knows what favours Dega had to do to get there). As soon as he realizes his friend is back he goes to the infirmary, desperately clutching at Papi’s unresponsive hand, fumbling with the sleeve’s fabric until he touches naked skin, begging Papillon for forgiveness. He was the reason why Papi ended up in isolation after all.

 Papillon is presumed insane and unresponsive so Dega opens up about his wife abandoning him.

But then “sleeping beauty” magically wakes up.

That line. Who needs women, amirite?

Dega is mad with joy to have his friend back while Papillon is already planning his escape. He tells Dega he’ll need a boat and a couple of other prisoners to help him. And then this happens.

The look of surprise and pure joy in Papillon’s eyes as he realizes that his friend wants to come with him, I mean.

“Us.”

As the film proceeds, there’s a lot of touching between them.

They survive their sinking boat, thinking they found heaven on earth, but just as Papillon decides to go back to France and leave Dega behind, he realizes they have been betrayed and the prison guards are after them - again. Instead of running away, he goes back to warn Dega and they both get captured.

For that, Papillon gets another five years in isolation. When he’s allowed to see people again, Dega finds him and takes him to that part of the prison that he calls home. As a forger and an artist, he seems to have spent the last five years drawing on the walls of his “home” and how do you know, he even drew a huge Papillon mural on the ceiling. Makes  you wonder why.

In the end, Papillon wants to try to escape one more time but Dega knows already he won’t be able to follow him, he can’t swim due to his broken leg plus he’s too institutionalized now to follow the man he loves. Without telling Papillon a single word about his “defection” he rolls one of his butterfly sketches and shoves it into a bottle, secretly tucking it among the things Papillon will take on his journey to freedom. A thing to remember him by.

When the time comes, Dega confesses that he won’t follow Papillon - and breaks his heart.

This is goodbye. This was always goodbye.

Years after his escape,  Henri ‘Papillon’ Charrière takes his memoirs to a French publishing house. He hasn’t forgotten a single thing and Dega’s butterfly is there to prove it. He’s filled with nostalgia as he fans out his fingers over it protectively.

He mentions a wife but the last thing we see is the butterfly that was painted on a piece of prison clothes years ago. It’s in the publisher’s hands now. 

“It’s the story of a lot of men.”

Thank you, anon, for telling me about this film. 

It was quite a journey.

[sanghyukstattoos]

Baby (Part 4)

Characters: Lee Sanghyuk I Dawon x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, smut (dom!reader, sub!Dawon, oral sex where F receives and M gives, little bit of spanking)

Parts:  .1. .2. .3. .4. .5.

Summary: Letting Sanghyuk heal and recover in the comfort of your home, you returned home with a particular question in mind, thoughts of your dampening arousal swirling your mind all day.

A/N: Heyyy!!! Guess who’s back with a part 4? Welp, if this isn’t the cutest relationship ever that you’ll probably be reading more about in part 5-

For the next few days Sanghyuk behaved well and you weren’t as swamped with work as before. You were able to return home at normal times to Sanghyuk and pay him all the attention in the world that he deserved. You’d usually find him on the sofa, watching TV while laughing heartily at something one of the characters had said or under the covers, playing some games. 

Tossing your keys on the table, you removed your shoes, feet aching from the long day at work. You couldn’t deny how adorable Sanghyuk was as he bit his lips and furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. Today also happened to be one of those days where the more he did it, the harder you found it to hold yourself back.

‘‘Hey babie’‘ ruffling his hair as sat down on the sofa next to him. You smiled as he looked at him and murmured a ‘‘hey’‘ looking back at the screen. You leaned in close, whispering into his ear, ‘‘When you were naughty a few days ago..’‘ and that was all it took to catch his attention. 

Looking at you with inquisitive eyes, he patiently waited for you to continue, ‘’I wanted to use your pretty face to pleasure myself but-’’ eyes widening at your words.

‘’To hold your head back’’ tugging his hair gently so that it was enough to show him what you meant, ‘’and slip my cunt over your lips as you ate me out’’. ‘’But I never got to do that’’ pursing your lips. 

‘‘I guess there’s no other way to say this: Pleasure me and just maybe, I’ll reward you’‘ eagerly nodding at your words. His words were far less today meaning that he was unlikely to act in any way that would result in a punishment.

Removing your suit jacket and trousers, he watched as you pulled your panties down leaving you in one other piece of clothing. When you did this, he knew what it meant: you were going to use him and his cock grew harder at this thought. 

Laying down on his back, he watched you settle your already dripping core over his mouth, waiting for your signal to touch you. ‘’Go ahead’’ and his hands immediately found your back while he swiped a tongue over your folds, tasting your sweet essence. 

Being able to eat you out made him feel rewarded and he wanted to do a good job in making you feel that way. Rubbing a finger over your clit, you moaned at the sensation of his warm tongue hungrily lapping at your juices. 

His hot breath fanned over your core as he went to insert his muscle into your entrance making you lurch forward, holding onto the arm of the sofa. 

Rocking your hips back and forth, he kept up with your pace, growing harder at the high- pitched whines that left your mouth. It meant that he was doing a god job and he continued, licking your walls and trying to find your sweet spot. 

His mouth was glistening with your juices as he took in all of you. Pressing a kiss to your folds, he covered your walls with tongue wherever he could. The tip swiped over your spot and he left that area in search of another. 

‘‘Go for it baby’‘ you encouraged him, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed and vibration ran directly up your spine, whines falling your lips at the added pleasure. 

You gasped as you felt your lower stomach tighten with each slurp that he drew. Your arousal grew as he continued with no idea that you were about to release. Rubbing your clit, he leaned away to press a kiss to your inner labia and your tightness loosened, spilling your cum all over his mouth and throat. 

Riding his face, you released for a few more seconds, gradually slowing down your pace. Standing up, you cleaned yourself with a wet wipe and dressed yourself. He hadn’t moved but his eyes carefully watched you, waiting for a command. 

Standing over him, ‘’Clean your mouth’’ and he swallowed your cum, tongue swiping to eat the excess around his mouth. Taking some from his throat, you pressed it to his lips and he opened his mouth, gladly licking your hand. 

‘‘That’s a good boy’‘ you remarked and his cheeks lit up at the compliment. You smiled as he sat up and then you saw his aching cock that you were pretty sure was dripping already against the confining material of his joggers.

‘‘What shall we do about you huh?’‘ you asked, going to collect your stuff. He reached for your extended hand as you made your way to the bedroom. ‘‘Wait for me’‘ he pouted at your words. ‘‘Do I have to wait?’‘ he asked and if it wasn’t for how cute he was, you would have corrected him already. 

Pinching his cheeks, you nodded, ‘’Be naked and on the bed, waiting’’ obediently trudging to the bed. You smiled as he turned around, patting his butt in encouragement. 

Sanghyuk stripped his clothes and laid on the bed, propped up on his elbows face up. He patiently waited, wondering when exactly you were going to come out and then started shaking his leg, feeling impatient when a couple of minutes had already passed by. Usually you were quick to change but you took your time today feeling jittery.

You were excited at the prospect of making him wait when all he needed was you to come and sit on his cock. Walking out, he immediately straightened, attention on your clothed body and then it struck him, why were you dressed? 

Confusion apparent, you held back a laugh at his confused state saying, ‘’Even I don’t know why I changed’’. He looked at you in disbelief and you laughed, his thighs shaking at the thought of having to wait for nothing. 

‘‘Awww’‘ you whispered, stroking his cheek, ‘‘There’s no harm in waiting’’. Not hearing a reply, you lightly smacked his ass causing him to jolt, snapping out of his thoughts. 

You went to strip but not before harshly smacking his ass and hearing him whimper as you said, ‘’Pay attention’’. He shook his head in agreement and spread his legs for you, resting his head on sheets. 

Climbing on top of him, ‘’You ass- I just want to keep hitting it’’ remarking, positioning him at your entrance and sinking onto his cock. He moaned as he felt your warm walls hug him, a contrast to the air of the room while you gasped as he filled you. 

Bottoming out in you, you wasted no time in rocking your hips and drawing moans from the both of you. The sounds of pretty, choked moans filled the entire room, feeling his hands roam your chest and squeeze your breasts.

Entwining his arms above his head, you lifted yourself and sunk onto his cock a loud moan leaving your lips. He was in absolute bliss, whining for you to move faster. He gulped as you thrusted your hips, moving at a fast pace.

"Do you want to cum?" and he whimpered at your question vigorously nodding his head as he looked at you. "Yes please", your eyes softening at his manners. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure and he kneaded your breast and ass, wanting to feel all of you.

Biting your lip, you slapped his nipple saying, "Take over" and for the first time in a while, this was his chance. He hasn't been able to make love to you and neither did he have complete control but it was enough for him to pleasure you.

Shifting your positions so that he was above you, he propped himself up on his palms and thrusted into you as your hands found his ass, spanking the soft flesh. He gasped as he felt a jolt of electricity run through him while you moaned, feeling his cock pummel in and out of you.

"Good boy" hearing this, he absorbed the compliment, increasing his pace. He lingered above your lips and you could smell the scent of your cum on his lips. Pressing your lips to his, he responded with enthusiasm, soaking up the kiss.

Nuzzling his face into your neck, you felt your arousal pool around your core, making it even easier for him to thrust into you. His tip hit your cervix, putting all of his strength into his thrusts as he watched your mouth fall open in intense pleasure, feeling proud for being the only one to make you feel like that.

As he nuzzled his cheeks between your neck and shoulders, you knew that he was going to cum and without any warning, he did. Seeing how he wasn't really able to ever tell you before he came, you let it go. Your legs spread wider at the warm, liquid feeling of cum inside your walls that was a lot and at once.

He sighed in relief at the built up feeling that released and slowed down his pace but reached in between your bodies to rub your clit. You pressed your hips down onto his cock and he whined at the overstimulation but continued like an obedient sub. Between his cock and rubbing your clit, it didn't take very long for you to cum after him, juices painting his cock that was still in you.

He pulled out of you and laid beside, pulling you into his chest. You hugged him but as soon as you did, you heard your phone buzzing. You groaned at the and reached out for the phone but he held onto you tighter, not willing to let you go.

‘‘I’m switching it off’‘ you gently spoke and he acknowledged it by loosening his grip, allowing you to reach for the phone and turn it off. Going back into his arms, the two of you laid there as the sky behind you streaked in shades of fuchsia and violet indicating that the sun was beginning its slow descent back to make way for the night. 

‘‘What’d you spend your whole day doing?’‘ you asked him, genuinely wondering if he was okay staying at home for long periods of time without you. ‘’Watching, eating...’’ trailing, trying to remember the last time he had a productive day. This is when you realised that the both of you hadn’t spent a lot of time together lately. 

‘‘Are you okay without me at home?’‘ he hugged you tightly at the question, ‘‘I want you’‘ and your heart ached, frowning at his words. ‘‘Then let’s spend some time together’‘ his eyes lighting up at your words causing you to smile at the change in attitude. ‘‘If you can, take some time off, say, then we can go somewhere and I already have a few places in mind’‘ he spoke 

Your fingers danced around his ass causing him to let out a surprised gasp when he felt a squeeze. Bringing his head into the crook of your neck he wrapped his arms around you as played with his hair, hearing his soft breaths.

‘‘Where do you want to go?’‘ you asked and he replied, "To go to the zoo? Or see the new carnival in town or, a fancy fast food feast’’. Rubbing the pads of your fingers over the soft flesh of his ass, you held him in your arms, asking, ‘’What’s a fancy fast food feast?’’. ‘’Ah, it’s where you buy fast food and pair it with something fancy- like wine’’ he replied, already thinking about getting drunk with you. 

Understanding the basic concept, you asked, ‘’But we can put our own spin to it, right?’’

[aifastic]

Winning Lines

The @talesofteufort zine has been shipped, and the PDFs sent! Thank you very much to everyone who contributed. I’m very glad to have been able to participate in this project; it was a wonderful experience and it’s been great working with everyone aaaa ♥

I’m really happy to share my piece for the zine! I really hope you all like it ♥ (Read it below the cut)

Title: Winning Lines Words: 1845 Warnings: None Summary: BLU has a drawing contest. Demo just wants his magazine back.

-----

“ARE YOU MANN ENOUGH TO DRAW THIS BETTER THAN US?”

The header caught BLU’s Demoman’s attention. He’d been reading the latest issue of Hat-Wearing Man when he found the ad at the bottom of one of the pages. There was a somewhat simple drawing of a monkey in a spacesuit. “If you draw Poopy Joe better than our extremely talented artist, we’ll give him the boot—and kick his ass in the process! And your picture will be the new image of our project and you, our lucky friend, will win nothing less than $700 dollars!”

“Huh, it doesn’t look that hard…” he said, pensive. Suddenly, the magazine was snatched from his hands. “Hey!”

“Ohohoh, what’s this?” Scout said, grinning at the magazine. “Hey, I’d win this in the blink of an eye!”

“Oi! Get your own!” Demo took the magazine back. “I’m gonna try this. Mum will love the extra money,” he added to himself.

“Pffft, no way, it’s a waste of mail money, pally. If someone should participate, that’s someone who actually has a chance.”

“Heh.”

They turned around to see Sniper in a corner, grinning.

“What’s your deal, Long Legs?”

“Shut up, ya scoundrel. If anyone has a chance here, it’s me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Demo asked. “Where’s your credentials, mate?”

“Don’t need any,” he said. “Quiet kid, hours at the back of the classroom sketching the teacher being eaten by a croc.” He grinned. “It should be easy as cake.”

“Oi, do ya remember the magazine is mine?”

“I agree, though—the chance should be for whoever’s got the talent.”

Demo sighed. “Aye, alright. But I’m not gonna just give it away.” His face lit up, an idea coming to his mind. “You’ll have to beat me for it.”

“Huh?” Both mercenaries stared at him quizzically.

Demo grinned, eye glinting.

“Let’s have a drawing contest.”

-----

They emptied the kitchen table in order to make room for their sheets of paper, pencils and pens. In the meantime, they threw evaluative gazes at each other, competitive strike flaring up.

The rest of the team slowly wandered to the room to find out what was going on.

“What is noise?” asked Heavy, scratching his chest. Medic, who was right behind him, had just closed it, having found himself too distracted by the ruckus to continue his surgery.

“We’re about to find out who’s gonna win 700 dollars!”

Medic perked up. “I am in. What is the bet?”

“We’re not betting, mate.” Sniper showed him the magazine’s ad. “It’s a contest.”

Medic’s smile turned dangerous. “Even better.”

“Heavy is in, too.”

“Aw, come on, guys! It’s not as if you’re gonna beat me!”

Heavy threw Scout an unimpressed look. “It is fun. I want extra money. I am in.”

“Alright, alright, mate. Sure.” Demo handed them both some extra sheets of paper they'd brought just in case.

Medic excused himself to go search for a couple of pens. On his way out, he almost crashed onto Soldier.

“Ach, watch where you’re going!”

“I need sustenance, maggot! And you’re on my way!” He shoved Medic away, making him stumble on the way out. A couple of German swears could be heard from the corridor. “Hello, everyone!”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna get in too,” Scout groaned.

“In what?” Soldier inquired, tilting his head. Demo showed him the magazine’s ad.

Engineer peeked over his shoulder.

“Oh, a drawing contest?” he said, looking at it with a fond smile. “Heh. It’s been a while since I tried my hand at one o’ those. But I thought they allowed only one entry per ad?”

“That is point,” Heavy said. “We are fighting to get chance to earn money.”

“Oh…” Soldier grinned. “I’m in, maggots! I actually studied art with Kickasso.”

Everyone stared at him.

“Sure, mate,” Demo said, patting his back and attempting to lead him into the kitchen.

“You don’t believe me!” Soldier looked at everyone. Engie shrugged. Scout picked at his nails, and Sniper scratched the table distractedly. Heavy’s eyes said it all. “I will prove it to all of you!” And he headed to the table, snatching a paper sheet from the pile.

Demo brushed a hand across his own face. “I hope Medic brings enough pens.”

“I’ll go for mine,” Engie said. He added, “And I’ll go look for Pyro; they’ll love this.”

Scout groaned. “Anyone else? Maybe Saxton Hale?”

Spy’s laughter can be heard from a corner of the room.

“Oh, this is priceless. I wasn’t going to butt in, but this looks like too much fun to pass on the opportunity.”

“The opportunity to what?” Scout said, miffed.

“You’ll see,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “Besides, you need a referee, don’t you?”

“Ugh,” Scout said, bonking his head on the table.

-----

Everyone looked at each other from their respective places. Scout’s leg bounced nonstop; Sniper picked unconsciously at his pencil. Heavy’s grip on his pen was strong enough for Medic to worry about it breaking.

“Alright,” said Spy. “You have to draw…” He squinted. “Poopy Joe, following the ad’s instructions; the best artist wins. The rules are: no interfering with anyone’s drawing. No kicking under the table. No destroying anyone’s drawing. No rising up from the table until all this is over. No showing your drawing until everyone is finished. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. Pyro hummed happily.

“Excellent. So, on the count of three: One, two… Three!”

Scout’s pen tore onto the paper. “Shit! Do you have a spare?” Spy handed him one. “Thanks,” he muttered.

The truth was, Scout wasn’t that confident of the fact he was going to win. When it was just him and Demo, he’d been sure he’d win to the unsteady hand of a drunk man. And Sniper was all bragging anyways. But Medic? He’d probably drawn lots of skeletons and stuff at college. And Engineer’s schematics always look exactly like the finished product. Shit. And—did Soldier really paint with Kickasso? Nah, he shook his head. He didn’t think so. Heavy was a wild card, though.

But he had to try anyway! He couldn’t back off now. So he put his all into it.

Engineer turned his sheet of paper down. Hell! That was fast. He tried to concentrate in the lines that formed Poopy Joe, and emulated them the best he could. Damn, his hand was sweaty… He hated drawing. His cousin had always been better at it, and it pissed him off even now, far from home.

He slapped his drawing on the table, face down. “Done!” He looked up to see everyone had finished. Crap.

“Alright, then,” said Spy. “Let’s see what you came up with.”

“Come up with?” That had many meanings, but the way Spy said it… “What do you mean?”

“The challenge was to improve on the design of Poopy Joe drawn by the artist, not to copy it.”

“Oh, darn,” Engineer said, showing a perfect copy of the Poopy Joe logo. Holy shit. “Guess I got a bit carried away. I’m more used to copying stuff, ya know.”

Soldier snickered.

“Let’s see what you did, Soldier boy.”

“Alright! Look at it and weep!”

He showed them all a mess of lines with dots in seemingly random places.

“Soldier, that’s…” Scout got elbowed by Demo. “That’s cool. What are… those?”

“Those are his eyes!” Oh, God.

“Let’s see Demo’s!” grinned Soldier, confidently.

“Ach, you know I’m no artist, mate,” he said, showing his drawing. It was… Actually, it was pretty decent. His drawing had a cartoonish style that drew everyone’s eyes in.

“Interesting,” said Spy, nodding approvingly.

“Demo did great job,” Heavy said, crossing his arms.

“Aw, thanks, mate.” Demo shrugged it off, somewhat flustered. “What about yours?”

Heavy showed his drawing. It was simple, a single line delineating the silhouette of the monkey astronaut. It was stylish, though it was difficult to guess what it was at times.

“Wonderful, mein freund!” Medic clapped, and revealed his. It was… Oh, my god. “I might have put a bit too much emphasis on his organs.”

“Next!” yelled Scout, tearing his eyes away from the gory drawing. Shit. Now he had to show his. Alright. You can do this, he told himself.

He turned the page face up.

“Mate,” Sniper said.

“Oh, buddy, we made the same mistake.”

“Y’know? I saw RED’s Scout draw once and I secretly thought we were doomed.”

“Oh, shut up!” Scout said, face beet red. It was true, he’d tried to copy the drawing, like Engineer did. And his lines weren’t as sure as Demo’s or Heavy’s. Shit. He screwed up big time.

“It’s good overall, mate,” Sniper said. “You just need more confidence.”

Scout flushed. “What about yours, Mister Expert?”

Sniper grunted, and showed his drawing. Oh, wow. It was really good! The monkey looked like it’d come out of the page and tear them apart. He felt as if he would be able to touch its fur.

“Wow, Slim! That’s one helluva good drawing!”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning. “I told ya: quiet kid.”

“Where is his spacesuit, though?”

His face dropped. “Aw, hell.”

“Hmmmph!” Pyro yelled, pointing at their sheet of paper.

“Alright,” Spy said, grinning along with Engineer. “The moment of truth has come.”

“What do you mean—?”

Holy shit.

The drawing was astounding. The monkey looked cartoonish enough not to look real, but in a way that made the drawing look alive. Everything was there, and in wonderful detail: The space-suit, the stars… Even an additional full moon in the background that was a perfect circle.

“Holy shit, Py!” Scout said. “How did you do that?”

“Hhmph?” Pyro asked, pointing at the moon. Everyone nodded. Pyro mumbled happily, grabbing another sheet of paper, and drew a classical Greek style face, then erased the rest of its features little by little until they got a perfect circle.

Oh, for the love of—

“Well, it seems we have our winner,” said Spy, handing Pyro the magazine. Pyro clapped with glee, running off with it.

“Aw, man. That was totally unfair. You knew this would happen!” Scout pointed to Spy accusingly.

“I had my suspicions,” he said, grinning.

“Hey, maggots,” Soldier said, sniffing. “Is that smoke?”

They all turned around to watch Pyro as they set the magazine on fire.

“Ach! My magazine!” Demo ran and stomped on it. However, many of the pages, including the drawing contest ad, didn’t make it. “Hell. Why, mate?”

“Hmmphmmphmmph!” they said, pointing at everyone in the room, then at their drawings. Then they clapped.

Everyone looked at each other, and found a common understanding. Who knew what Pyro said? But they had the feeling they meant they were all winners today.

“So it was a huge waste of everyone’s time. Fantastic,” Spy said. “Entertaining, though.”

“Shut up, Spy, we were having a moment,” Scout said.

And yes, indeed. Because even though Demo lost his magazine, he left the room with a good feeling inside. And he was sure that the rest felt the same way.

Poopy Joe’s artist could keep his job for another day.

[leam1983]

On Grief

This is a long one. You're under no obligation to push further if you don't want to. It's a personal post, so I'll more than understand if this isn't to your tastes. The normally-scheduled pedantry, commentary and memes will resume shortly.

One of my relatives was diagnosed with ALS. What started as an odd case of palsy in her left set of vocal cords that could've been far more benign was just confirmed by her referred physician. It's Lou Gherig's, and with her age and current condition, her prognosis is of three to five years, tops. Sure, Stephen Hawking blew his own prognosis out of the water, but a combination of notoriety and luck enabled him to eke out as much existence as medical tech could've possibly allowed.

We knew things were suspect when my aunt, a marathoner with a monthly sub to Runner's World, stopped running. Her food intake dropped like a stone, and she soon took to increasingly simple painting and drawing styles. At first we thought it was just her wanting to explore simpler rendering techniques, but then...

Then we noticed the twitching. How awkwardly her pens and brushes were set in her hands. She was in great shape and didn't mind living in the ass-end of Sutton, basically in the open country and with a path leading up to her front door that was all in rough cobblestones. She broke a hip against them, last year.

Her speech started to slur, lately. Her last bike trip also landed her in the ER. She doesn't bike anymore. She doesn't run, and being a gourmand by nature, feels obligated to restrain herself, for fear of gaining weight. She's aggressively vegan. Not towards others, but towards herself. No meat, no eggs, nothing. Most of us ovo-lactos and omnivores in the family know her constant snacking meant her seventy-plus body is desperate for energy.

From the look of things, it feels like the diagnosis broke through her bullshit reasoning for being vegan. She wasn't vegan for the sake of limiting her carbon footprint or making more responsible choices at the grocery store, but because she, as a lifelong anorexic, thought she was ugly and needed to lose weight. That's been a constant with her. Age catches up and skin sags? She mistakes it for a love handle, cuts out virtually all sources of protein and carbs safe for tofu, seitan and bean-based preps. Of course, like a lot of anorexics, she'd have bulemic episodes. I used to sleep over at her last bachelor pad, as a teen, and I remember her pantry was loaded up for bear with Danish cookie tins, Nutella jars and whipped cream. I remember she invited me over specifically when she intended to cheat. Then it was back to yoga, pot-smoking, meditation and shopping runs - and she probably kept her purging for when I was gone.

So yeah. I'm betting Belgian Asshole (see one of my previous posts) convinced her to break her vows and went looking for a "slice of authentic Tikka Masala", to quote his email. The entire family is made up of ethnic food diehards, so we spam-flooded his inbox with recommendations. Looks like she'll be eating meat again, soon. Her own email mentioned concerns of strength and stamina, so I get it.

Otherwise? We're gobsmacked. Imagine spending an entire weekday both at work and off work, aggressively goofing off because you're trying as hard as you can not to think of your favourite aunt's mention of assisted suicide as an option.

Three to five years. Maybe one, or two good Christmases. After that, her condition should probably have started to deteriorate quickly.

I'm not close with a ton of my own family. I love them all, but it's more a sense of polite respect than anything involving solid bonds. The only two folks I know I'll be devastated for when they'll die are her, and my youngest cousin on the other side of the family.

I'm mostly okay now. No doubts, no crisis of unbelief, no anger, no rage... But then I'll see her in a more diminished state, one of those days. How am I going to take to it?

Part of me keeps a tally of the deaths in the family. First, it was my uncle on my mother's side. Ruptured abdominal artery, with a leak small enough to pool into the gut's cavity for months. Decay settled in, guy got anesthetized for an intervention...

They didn't even bother sewing him back up.

Second one was my other paternal aunt's new husband. First one was great, but left the country in the seventies to go live in Stockholm with his medical assistant. Second one was a geologist and physicist at the same campus she taught as. French guy, the son of innkeepers four generations down. It showed, too. Our Christmas tables haven't been the same since he left us his recipie books, all his corny jokes on provincial eating habits, and his obstinate focus on turning every 25th of December into a Roman orgy probably befitting of the old Saturnalia traditions. I mean, when's the last time you've had an eight-course meal, outside of Thanksgiving?

Tumors in his mesenteric artery lined the blood vessel's inner walls, deposited virtually everywhere in his body. He was diagnosed in June and dead by August. He'd always been the lanky type, bone-thin even if he hoovered food like he'd never have enough. He looked even thinner in his hospital bed.

Then, my maternal grandpa bit it. Decades of casual alcoholism, cirrhosis more or less jumping on him around his seventy-sixth year. He looked a bit like John Keston, the actor who played Gehn in CyanWorlds' Riven. Same hairline, same hawkish nose, same eyes - just more Cajun and less New England-esque. I don't know if it was youth or stupidity or - anything, really, but I dropped by to see him, just two days before he died. I didn't realize he was tallying my life, asking me if I had everything in order, if things were planned.

Now, I understand.

Next one on the chopping block is Aunt Doris, still on Mom's side. She of the serial mooching, she of the concept of not needing much to get by if you were the cute one of the family. She was pretty enough in her prime, sure - if by pretty you meant "cigarette-butt blonde with a discount Farah Fawcett blow-up and an unfinished High School degree". First husband was an abusive ass who gave her an uncommonly sensitive son, second one figured she'd stick to the minimum-wage circuit while he tore out rotator cuffs or busted his C7 while on his outboard like clockwork. By the end, she roped my grandmother into living with her, spent her days sloppy-drunk and died on her ratty couch while falling asleep and choking on her own vomit.

Before them all, the youngest of my uncles died at age two. Cancer. Never knew which one, was told it didn't matter. You didn't survive much of anything cancerous, back in the late fifties.

Ping-pong this back to three years ago, and my oldest paternal uncle dies. Paul, who smoked like a chimney for most of his life and successfully stopped after discovering Champix. He got to live five great years as the high-IQ oddball he'd always been, smoke-free. Paul was the weird bird in the family, the type to remember a really engrossing story at two in the morning and making a note to call you up first thing in the morning to share it. He always had a project of some sort to work on, like a simulated investors' tank for young entrepreneurs looking to learn the ropes, or a Byzantine arrangement of coaxials allowing four of his lakeside neighbours to pirate his cable sub. He'd invite us over for dinner, gather all the ingredients we'd need for whatever it was he wanted to treat us to - and then he'd let us cook it - just sitting by the sidelines, chatting away.

He was also a bit of a narcoleptic, and looked a bit like William Howard Taft if you'd worked him out of these old sack suits and into modern shirts and suspenders. He fell asleep practically everywhere, with his more wakeful environments being his workshop and his property's dock. He took me out fishing, once, and knew what the entire family expected.

"Oars're here, Gremlin, fish're that way. Wake me up when you've got a bite."

At this point, it wasn't even a point of concern; it was just an Uncle Paul Thing, the exact thing you'd have expected out of this kind, eccentric blob of a man whose idea of fishing involved pushing his hat over his eyes and basically all but ensuring that his roaring snores would scare prey away. He'd been a supposedly high-IQ type, terminally bored with almost everything, only really getting agitated and interested back when I asked him for help for my Junior High Computer class's Javascript calculator. Once the syntax hit something familiar and he realized that JS has some similarities with FORTRAN, he was on a roll, acting like someone had snuck a Red Bull in his coffee.

Well, fibrosis caught up with him. His last hours were spent directing us on how to cook what would've been his last meal. I think he really just wanted to know we were alright, that we still could exchange laughs around the kitchen counter. He clocked out the way he always did, except he had an oxygen tube running under his nose. His head bobbed down, he snored loudly for a few minutes, then turned increasingly quiet...

And that was it.

And now there's Isabelle. The marathoner, my partner-in-crime when it comes to professing to have a healthy diet while occasionally cheating in glorious, weekend-defining means, my gateway to cannabis and also the first person who took my cringy self-insert fanfic fodder and went No, that's worth it! Push it, develop that universe of yours!

I wouldn't be almost two-thirds of the way through my first decent manuscript, if not for her, and I wouldn't be shopping for publishers with the same energy you'd reserve for weekend-grade Facebook putzing-about. I owe her part of my self-acceptance, and part of my discovery of what defines my routine to this day. Isabelle was my first meditation coach.

And in three to five years, she might be gone.

I just thought grief might be... noisier, is all. Louder. Right now, it's just germane to confusion, and it's sitting there. There's a pinch of fear in it, too. My parents are in their mid-sixties. How long do I have left with them?!

And the family and I just covered that up with jokes and, well, cooking. I've been told I'd make a half-decent therapist but - navigating your own emotions is hard work...

I don't know. I guess I needed to put this down somewhere.

[yeetingmyfeeling]

Skirts and Panties

One shot number 1

Brian and Nogla

Warnings; Smut and cross dressing

Through the years that they have been doing YouTube, Brian and Nogla knew each other very well. Best friends, you could say. With them both living in Ireland, they hit it off well in their first meeting. Then they continued on, causing havoc for their friends.

Being close to each other, allowed them to go visit one another when they were free. A week visit every few months, turned into a week visit every month. Eventually, they each had a draw for the other.

One day, Brian brought up to Nogla the idea of moving to America. He wanted to move where all the big stars are, and where he could be closer to his other YouTube friends. Nogla at first thought it was a great idea, but then he slowly started to think about how much he would miss his partner in crime. 

Brian had already applied for his visa, so, without telling anyone, Nogla did too. They waited months, and Nogla remembers the day Brian found out he got his. They were filming a video together. Nogla was just so happy for the other Irishman.

Then Brian went on to look for houses, while Nogla sat and waited patiently. When Brian would ask for his opinion, Nogla always gave inputs of what he personally liked. Sometimes Brian would ignore his input, but other times found them helpful.

After another few months, Brian had bought a house and invited Nogla over to help him pack. Nogla happily obliged, he also came to drop the news he got his visa. They celebrated, then they argued when Brian found out the reason. Yet, this leads us to today, where they now happily live together.

The house is two stories. On the first floor you have the living room, dining room, kitchen, a toilet, Brian’s office, and a small gym space. On the second floor Brian and Nogla’s bedroom included with a bathroom, two guest bedrooms, a guest bathroom, Nogla’s office, and a games room. The house was a simple floor pan. Most of the floor was wood, unless in the bedrooms, living room or offices. There were lots of windows, as they sat with a view of the city below them. The house also included a large backyard with a pool, and a large shed.

Nogla currently stood in one of the guest bedrooms. The grey carpet was soft beneath his bare feet, and the blind was pulled down, blocking off the sun. Both guest bedrooms were the same. Grey carpet, a large queen sized bed against the wall with a painting above it. This room's painting was a blue whale. On one wall was a large window, beneath it a desk. The wall opposite the bed was a large wardrobe, the doors being mirrors. 

Nogla stood in front of the mirror. He was wearing one of Brian’s basketball shorts, the pants being loose on his skinny hips, and a plain black shirt. A large suitcase sat on the bed. Nogla started chewing on the nail of his thumb as he thought.

He had always been attracted to these sorts of things, found them alluring. Yet he never thought he would end up doing it. He always just watched from the sidelines, or admired. Yet now, here he was, about to do it. If he had the strength.

He turned away from the mirror and walked over to the suitcase, which had previously been buried in the wardrobe. He unzipped it and looked through the clothes. He had gone out several different times, and bought several different articles of clothing. Even some of his friends' girlfriends got him some.

Yes, he could tell someone like Kelly, Tyler’s boyfriend. Yet he couldn’t tell his own boyfriend. After the year of the girls knowing, he was only now going to test it out. He pulled out some of the clothes, deciding what matches and what doesn’t, as well as if they fit his mood. He nodded in content once he found the perfect outfit.

Slipping off the shorts, he chucked them on to the bed, then went the shirt. He wore nothing underneath the shorts, so now he stood naked, kind of cold, and nervous. He looked over his shoulder, seeing his reflection in the mirror. He shivered.

Grabbing the first article of clothing, he slipped them on. It was a pair of green panties. Everything see through apart from the band and the crotch. Nogla noticed they felt quite soft against his blushing pale skin. Next was the garter belt, which had two pieces. First a tight green belt that wrapped around his waist, which was then connected to a lace bit that wrapped snugly around his hips. These clipped on to the next piece, which were dark green thigh highs. To top it off, he slipped on the matching bra. It obviously didn’t do too much, and the lace bit that usually covered the top of the breast flapped loosely against his chest. 

Turning around, Nogla looked at himself in the mirror. The green stood out in contrast to his very pale skin and dark hair. The belt showed off his waist, and the lace bit and panties accented his hips. The straps and thigh highs bulged slightly, showing off his thighs, although skinny. The bra was mostly just for show. 

Nogla then pulled on the next piece of clothing, a brown crop top jumper. It was very soft, which he enjoyed. Long sleeves going over his hands, and the jumper ending around his waist. He then pulled on a grey skirt. The waistband went up to his bellybutton, and it ended a little below his butt. The skirt reminded him of what you would see an anime high school girl wear.

He fluffed up his hair and flexed his toes on the carpet as he once again looked at himself in the mirror. He gasped at the sight. Nogla quite honestly thought he was adorable. Turning and spinning, he was falling in love with the look. He grabbed his phone that lay on the bed and took a quick photo, sending it to the girls.

Nogla continued to admire how he looked. He stretched and he bent over, loving every little thing about the outfit. He was just about to leave the room, to start walking around the house in his new favourite outfit, when he heard the front door open, then close, and the rushing of dog paws on wooden floors. 

Nogla’s eyes widened in his own reflection. He gasped and went to pull off the clothes as fast as he could. He felt his heart rate pick up as he heard Brian call out his name.

“David?” Brian called out into the quiet house. He walked into the kitchen, putting the groceries on the counter. He gave the dogs a quick pet on the head. “Babe?” He tried again.

Nogla was panicking. He was in the middle of trying to get the bra off and swore quietly when he heard a tear. He pulled it off and chucked it in his bag. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Swearing again, Nogla managed to get the rest of the outfit off. He pulled on his clothes, shoved the outfit back in the suitcase and then into the cupboard.

Straight after he shut the wardrobe door, Brain opened the guest room door. He looked at Nogla in confusion. “Uh, David?”

“Sorry!” David squeaked. “I think Joe and Tony got up here, because there was a mess, so I was just cleaning it up.”

Brian nodded slowly, but he looked skeptical. “Right…” He mumbled. “Can you come help me with the groceries?”

“Of course!” Nogla walked over to Brian, giving him a kiss. Brian leaned into it, and it would have gotten more heated if he didn’t remember the groceries.

~~~~~

The next time Nogla got dressed up, he made sure Brian was out of the house for longer. Brian was going to hang out with Evan today, and they were drinking so he was spending the night. Nogla took this opportunity. 

He chose a different outfit this time. The lingerie was a light blue. The panties were brought high up on his sharp hips. Lace bits on the sides, front and back. Unlike the green pair, this one fully covered his cock. He decided on a bra again, as it made him feel pretty. It was a thick lace where the breasts would be, then a thin lace stretching over his ribs. 

He checked himself out in the mirror, appreciating the way the panties brought out his hips, and also made his ass look more plump. He bit his lip, feeling a stirring in his stomach. He shook his head and brought out the next few articles of clothing. 

The shirt, another crop top, was violet. It had a bardot neckline, showing off the straps of his bra. It had three-quarter length sleeves, and was tight around his middle. The pants were light grey, and booty shorts. They had a white trim that came up at the sides. He pulled them up high, so the bottom of his ass was showing. 

Nogla whined as he saw himself in the mirror. He liked this outfit, a lot. He did a little spin, showing himself off, for himself. He took a few photos, using snapchat so he could private them. After that, he hesitantly walked out of the room. 

He jumped slightly when he saw Joe and Tony laying on the ground. They were both asleep, but jumped up when Nogla walked out. They walked up to him and sniffed at his new clothes in confusion.

Nogla laughed, bending down to pat each of them on the head. Then he walked out and went downstairs. He walked to the kitchen, biting his bottom lip. He felt the cool air all over his legs, and it was calming in a way.

After a few minutes of just basking in the feeling, Nogla decided to start doing some cleaning. He felt like a girlfriend cleaning up after his messy boyfriend. In a way, he was, but he wouldn’t openly say that. 

So he went around the house, cleaning up. Once he had done the majority of the cleaning, he vacuumed the floors. He washed all the dishes, made sure the dishwasher was empty. He cleaned all over the bathrooms, then made sure the room he and Brian shared was clean. He cleared up his office, which wasn’t too bad. Brian’s was the worst, as he hid all the trash out of the way of the camera.

Once he had cleaned everything, he realized he would have to take out the trash, and put the bin out. He looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting his clothes slightly. He took a shaky breath. He could do it.

Nogla picked up all the trash bags, two full in each hand, and took them out to the bin. He threw them in then pulled the bin out to the curb. Luckily, he saw no one. A few people did drive by, but he just ducked his head, looking away. Then he went back inside.

He saw he had been cleaning late, and it was past dinner time. He swore and fed Joe and Tony, who were whining. He quickly cooked himself up some pasta, making sure he had enough for Brian to have the next day.

He went into his office  and worked on editing a video. It was one with Tyler, Evan, Delirious and Marcel. He got most of the way finished, but soon got tired. So he stumbled out of his room and to the bedroom. 

He stripped of the crop top and the shorts, leaving him in only the bra and panties. He giggled to himself. He took a lewd photo, saving it to the private section of snapchat. Brian would love that photo.

Nogla laid on Brian’s side of the bed, as he often does when Brian is out. He cuddled up in the blankets, enjoying the faint smell of Brian. He hummed happily and soon fell fast asleep.

~~~~~

Brian was out again. This time he was having a visit to go see Tyler and Evan at Tyler’s house. He was going to be gone for a few days. So, once again, Nogla took this as his opportunity. He also had some new outfits, as it was nearing summer so he and some of the girls had gone shopping.

It was the third day, and it was quite a warm day. Nogla decided he wanted to go swimming. Despite Brian being at Tyler, Kelly had come to visit Nogla. She brought along Chrissy and Simone. The three girls were just staying two nights, as they had their own things to do. Nogla was just happy to have company.

The partners of the girls got a little suspicious when they found out their girlfriends were going to be with Nogla. Yet, they just came to the conclusion Nogla was the ‘girlfriend’ of his and Brian’s relationship. Nogla wanted to throttle them.

The girls were already outside, with food and drinks, and in their swimsuits. Nogla was nervous to put on his, as swimmers were always tight. Very tight.

The swimsuit was of course a bikini. The top bit had a thick band that wrapped around, then the pad of the bra where the breasts would be, in the middle it had bands connecting the two pads, then it wrapped around his neck. The bottom piece was thin and small, and Nogla hoped to god he wouldn’t accidentally flash the girls. On the sides it thinned out into little ropes that he had to tie together. The color of the swimming set was a solid blue. 

These clothes showed off his incredibly pale body, and made him blush heavily. His face burned as he pulled on one of Brian’s jumpers. He pulled the sleeves over his hands. Shuffling his feet, he hesitantly walked down to the pool.

Opening the door, he stepped out with a shy smile, receiving several wolf whistles. This only made him blush more, giggling a little. 

“Look at those legs!” Simone yelled out. “God damn girls, I think we found a rival,” They all laughed.

Nogla walked over, sitting in one of the lounging chairs beside Kelly. Kelly gave the Irishman a wink. “That does look so good Nogla, I don’t think any of us could pull that off.”

“Yeah! I mean, wow,” Chrissy laughed. “Take off the jumper, we want to see it all,” Nogla rolled his eyes, but did as asked. He pulled the jumper off, hanging it off the back of the chair. The girls howled. “Look at those moobs!”

Simone and Kelly laughed loudly, the latter swatting at Chrissy. “He doesn’t have any!” Simone pointed. “He’s all pointy and lanky, but damn it stretches nicely.”

“Dude, you would be a hot chick,” Chrissy said with a nod. “If I had to leave Scotty and elope, I would do it with you.”

Nogla barked a laugh. “Oh, I am flattered!”

They all continued to joke around for a bit more, laughing and enjoying each other's company. The girls constantly telling Nogla how good he looked. After a while, they decide to jump in the pool. 

The girls attack Nogla, splashing him with water. Nogla scowled and picked up the closest person, which happened to be Kelly. He threw her over his shoulder, launching her in the water. She squealed loudly. Nogla then went after the other two, who ran away, screaming and laughing.

After a few hours, that had gone by with lots of being dickheads in the pool, food, and drinks, they became tired. It was late afternoon, but not too late. They laid down on the lounging chairs, allowing their bodys to naturally dry, and tan.

As they lay there in peace, Nogla was suddenly involved in the girls gossip. He stayed quiet most of the time, just listening to the other three. A few times they asked for his opinion, which he gave with lots of thought.

“So, Daithi,” Simone peered over at the tall male. “How much hate are you getting?”

Nogla frowned softly to himself. “Uhm.. a lot. More than what Lanai got,” He looked over at Simone. “A lot of people are angry I’m dating Brian, a lot of people think I turned him gay, and a lot of people think he should have stayed with Lanai.”

Chrissy nodded, understanding. “Yeah, yeah. I can’t fully understand, but I got a lot of hate for just dating Scotty. After we got married, the hate got worse.”

Kelly frowned. “Sometimes I hate that they are.. Famous,” She sighed. “I’m happy for Tyler, I’m so happy, and I understood what I was getting myself into. Just, sometimes, the hate hits a little too hard.”

Simone groaned in agreement. “I run across an account on twitter that is hating all the boys girlfriends, and ex’s. This was a bit ago, I recently stumbled upon them again, and they have included Nogla in the hate.”

Nogla sighed. “People are fucking asshole,” He scowled. “I really hate our fans sometimes. What they do with stuff like this, it’s just- why? They do more harm than good, and I hate it. It ruins any kind of friendships you can get, and so many relationships. It’s fucking bullshit!”

“Calm down Nogla,” Simone reached over, rubbing Nogla’s arm. “I know, it’s hard. We have each other though,” The other two agreed. It was nice, Nogla felt happy. 

It was later in the night, and after Nogla had been forced into photos, they went inside. They each had a shower and changed into comfier clothes. The girls demanded Nogla once again wear the clothes he felt comfortable in. Nogla rolled his eyes, and said of course.

The underwear were simple. Just a dark purple, with a light purple waistband that clung tightly to his hips. The shirt was a loose, light blue and grey coloured shirt. It clung to his bony shoulders and chest, but the rest hung off his lanky frame. The shorts were a light green, and were tight around his hips.

They all went into the living room and started to watch movies. They had lots of snacks, and had gotten pizza delivered. As well as plenty of alcohol. After a while, Chrissy and Simone had fallen asleep, wrapped up in the cocoon of blankets they had made for themselves.

Nogla had turned off the TV, and lay stretched out on the couch. It was an L couch, so Kelly curled up on the other side. They lay in silence, not making a sound, until Kelly asked Nogla; “When are you going to tell Brian?”

Nogla groaned loudly. He rolled on to his stomach, burying his face in the pillows. “I don’t know,” He whined out. “I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“He’ll hate me! He’ll think I’m disgusting! Brian will break up with me, I just know it.”

“But you don’t know it.”

“I do!”

“How?”

“I just- I do…”

“David..”

“One day, Kelly. I’m not ready yet.”

~~~~~

It had been a while since Nogla was given the chance to dress up again. Three months, if he counted right. He was getting a little impatient, if he was being honest. As if the Gods heard him, Brian was now going on a two week trip to Ireland to visit his family.

Nogla would have gone with, gone to see his own family. Yet, they just happened to be busy. Nogla was clearly not upset. So, he had the house to himself. 

Although, the guys decided to have a game. Brian was going to be there, and Nogla was happy to have more time to hear his boyfriend.  Because he wouldn’t have a camera, this was now the chance to wear the clothes around Brian. He wasn’t here, and he couldn’t see him. It’s fine.

 Nogla had no idea what to wear today. Looking through the suitcase, he grabbed out a random pair of lingerie. It ended up being a red babydoll dress. The straps over his shoulders were thin, the cups small on his chest, and pure lace. There are more straps going over his chest, then connecting down and flowing out into a skirt. The top of the skirt was tight against his ribs, the waistband being lace similar to the cups. It flowed out and ended just below his crotch. Underneath was a pair of simple red lace panties.

Nogla felt very hot in the dress. He spun around in front of the mirror, fawning over himself. He once again took more photos, that no one will ever see. As he was taking one particularly lewd photo, that had his dick stirring, his phone buzzed.

BooBear: Baby? We are in the game, just waiting on you

Nogla cursed, fumbling with his phone. He picked it up after he dropped it, his face bright red. If only Brian could see him. He quickly messaged his boyfriend back.

DarlingDoll: Sorry Bri! I got caught up with something, I’ll be a moment

BooBear: Okay David :)

Quickly rushing out of the guest room and to his office, Nogla was glad he had already started up everything. He closed the door and sat down in his chair. He put on his headphones and started up the game, it was Prop Hunt. As the game was loading so he could go into the lobby, he joined the discord call. Calls of his name were heard. 

“Brian isn’t last for once!” Evan shouted. “This time it’s his boyfriend!”

“What took you so long?” Marcel whined. 

“Sorry lads, I was getting off on the thought of my boyfriend,” Nogla mumbled. The game finally started and he was instantly killed by Evan. He sighed.

“That’s a very good excuse,” Brian agrees. “If I leave early, you’ll know why,” Everyone made various disgusted noises.

They played the game for a few hours, Nogla as death because he was last. They joked around, having fun, making jokes. Tyler was the first to die, to which he cursed Nogla out for. Nogla just giggled. It ended in a face off between Brian and Evan, the Irishman winning.

“What’s my prize?” Brian questioned. “Better be good.”

There was a murmur heard from Tyler’s end, then the tall male barking out a laugh. “Kelly said your prize should be Nogla cross-dressing!”

Nogla flushed bright red, going quiet. He sat in his chair and looked down at the clothes he was currently wearing. He was going to kill Kelly.

Evan chuckled. “Man, I could see Nogla in a skirt. Long legs and everything.”

Marcel laughed in agreement. He went to say something, but there was murmur on his end. He gasped. Simone was the one to talk this time. “Briannnn.”

“Yes Simone?” Brain sounded thoroughly confused.

“Don’t get too horny,” Marcel laughed at that, making Simone chuckle. “But what if Nogla dressed in.. womens clothes all the time?”

“Is that my prize?” Brian asked excitedly. “Because if it is I would be a happy man.”

“You wouldn’t judge him?” Kelly suddenly asked.

“God no!” Brain spoke quickly. “If that is what makes him comfortable, then I’ll buy him all the bikinis he wants!”

Everyone laughed. They all continued to talk, Nogla only contributing when he had to. They all made jokes about Nogla wearing girls clothes, Brian constantly saying ‘that’s hot’ or ‘totally fine with that’. It all made the tall Irishman too flustered and embarrassed, so he left in a hurry. 

A week after this incident, Nogla felt comfortable enough to get dressed up again. This time he had shoes that Kelly had sent him.

This set of lingerie was simple black. The bra was tight, stretched over his ribs. The black panties were high up, accenting his sharp hips perfectly. The garter belt wrapped perfectly around his waist. It connected down to the black tights that shaped his hips perfectly. Over the top he had a high waisted soft pink skirt that ended mid thigh. The shirt was a similar pink colour, and it ended just below his ribs. It was tight across his chest. The shoes were platform demonias. He giggled as they made him incredibly taller.

Nogla didn’t have much to do today. So he walked around the house, making sure everything was clean. He really didn’t have much to do today, so he mostly just sat around on his phone. After awhile, he decided to go do some editing. So he went to his office, sat down with his heavy headphones on, and started to edit.

Nogla was so focused on editing, he didn’t hear the opening on the front door or the call of his name. He was so focused he didn’t hear the footsteps getting closer and closer to his office. He was so focused, he fell out of his chair when Brian had called out his name.

Nogla, now on the floor, looked up at Brian in fear. He put his hands over his lap, pushing the skirt down to cover his crotch. Brian was just gaping at him. “B-B-Brian…” Nogla stuttered. “Wh-What are you doing here?” 

“I came home early to surprise you,” Brian said softly. He stared at his boyfriend in front of him. His eyes traveled over his leg, his hands keeping the skirt pinned down, and the skin showing on his stomach. All the way up to Nogla’s blushing face. “What are you doing?”

Nogla could feel the tears building up. He whined and looked down at his lap. “Brian, I-”

“Nogla,” Brian couched down in front of his boyfriend. “Be honest with me, I won’t judge.”

Nogla nodded. “I started dressing in girls clothes. I don’t know why, but I’ve always really wanted to try it. When I was younger I would steal my mother's clothes, but I forgot.. Then I randomly grabbed a skirt while out shopping and put it on, and I had missed it. They just make me feel so pretty, and good, and.. And..” Nogla whimpered again. “I’m sorry Bri.”

Brian shook his head. He leaned forward and placed his hands on Nogla’s knees. He gave him a gentle smile. “Don’t be sorry Noga. I think this is gorgeous, it looks so good on you.”

[dirty-urie]

Date Night Part Two

Since this was originally supposed to be one part, all the same warnings, disclaimers, and author’s notes still apply.

Part One Here

“Sara, sweetheart, food’s almost here,” he whispers thirty minutes later. He’s wearing pajama pants with no shirt, and his torso’s still wet from the shower he took to rinse off. “Do you wanna go get yourself cleaned up while I set up the coffee table to eat?” He asks.

Sara shakes her head, “I get clingy and needy after sex-”

Brendon cracks a grin because he knows this, of course.

“So you’re stuck with me for the next couple of hours,” she finishes.

“Mm, that’s fine with me, babe. I just want you to be comfortable,” he responds, kissing her forehead.

She moves up into the kiss and realizes that a shower might be nice after all, “Actually, I am a little sticky. Come into the bathroom with me?”

“Anything you want, love,” he says, scooping her up and carrying her to the shower.

He turns the water on for her and then goes to sit on the counter while she rubs off the sweat under the spray. “B?” She calls.

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s nothing fancy, but when you rubbed my clit in little circles, I nearly died on the spot. Normally when I’m alone, I just stroke back and forth, but god, it felt so good to feel something new,” she says. Brendon doesn’t respond immediately. “B?” She calls back timidly, shy now. “B?”

She’s getting worried that he left without her hearing, so she pulls back the shower curtain and has to choke back a moan. Brendon’s still sitting on the counter, his head tipped back on the mirror, palming over himself through his PJ pants.

“God, Sara, sorry, I just love hearing how I make you feel, and I couldn’t help it,” he tells her.

Sara shuts the water off and walks across the bathroom to Brendon, paying no mind to how she’s dripping all over the tile. She yanks him up to his feet and drops to her knees on the padded bathmat in front of the sink. She pulls his pants down just enough- no underwear, she observes without surprise- and takes him in her mouth, getting him slick enough that she can stroke him to total hardness with her hand. Once he’s fully hard, she takes him back in her mouth and sucks hard, making his knees tremble. She bobs her head up and down, stroking him with her hand when she doesn’t have his whole length in her mouth.

He’s bracing himself against the counter to stay upright and not buck into her mouth. She moves down to just stimulate the tip while quickly stroking over the rest of him.

“Can you come for me? Food is going to be here any minute,” she says, looking up at him with big eyes.

“You playing with yourself down there, baby? Getting all wet from sucking me off?” He asks, the dirty talk getting him closer to the edge.

“Oh, you know it, gets me so hot, making you feel good. I wish I had one of my new toys, though,” she pouts before licking his dick again.

Brendon gropes behind him blindly, trying to find… bingo! It’s not a vibrator, but it does, well, vibrate, he thinks, hitting the button on his electric toothbrush. He hands it to Sara, who puts it between her legs without hesitation, pressing it against her clit.

She goes weak, moaning a buzzy hum over his cock while she sucks. She knows he’s close by the way his balls are drawing into his body, so she goes ahead and lets herself go. Tightening the pressure around his cock.

“Shit, babe, I’m gonna come,” he warns, hips bucking. “Can I come in your mouth or…?”

She holds up a thumbs up, and he comes, most of it staying in her mouth, but some ends up dripping down her chin. She swallows, and Brendon hands her a wad of toilet paper to wipe off the rest with.

He tucks himself back into his pants and then helps her back to her feet.

“Can I have my toothbrush back, love?” He requests softly.

Sara blushes and takes the still-vibrating toothbrush out from between her legs, “Sorry, I forgot I still had that.”

“No worries,” he responds with a soft chuckle, kissing her forehead. He takes the toothbrush and turns it off before rinsing it off under the sink. “Gosh, you did a number on this thing. It’s soaked,” he marvels, “My perfect messy girl.”

Just then, there’s a knock at the door. “Perfect timing, must be the food. I'll deal with that while you get dressed?” He suggests, and she nods, still a little dazed from the orgasm. Well, orgasms, plural.

She goes back to his room, where she stashed her bag and rummages through it for her pink silk slip nightgown. It’s super simple, just spaghetti straps with a straight-across neckline and then deep pink fabric straight down to just below her ass, but Brendon loves it. She suspects it’s just because she can’t move very much without flashing her butt, but he insists that the slip itself is gorgeous.

As she’s getting dressed, she hears the door open and Brendon apologizing for his relative state of undress, saying he just got out of the shower. Brendon’s naked more often than he’s clothed, so Sara just shrugs it off until she hears a giggle and flirting coming from the delivery girl.

Brendon stammers out that he has a girlfriend, but he’s flattered, but that doesn’t seem to be deterring the delivery girl, who makes an extra point to linger her hand on Brendon’s as she hands him the food. Sara strides out of his bedroom, “Hey, B, have you seen my panties? I can’t find them in your bed or your bathroom or the kitchen or the sofa, so I wonder if I left them in your pocket during our multiple rounds of lovemaking,” She calls before pretending to spot him and the girl for the first time by the door. She scootches in next to him and kisses him on the cheek, plastering a sickly-sweet smile on her face. “My apologies, didn’t know you had a guest,” she lies, shooting death beams at the delivery girl whose hand is on Brendon’s bicep. The girl retracts her hand, and Sara grabs a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet on the doorside table to tip her. Sara knows Brendon would’ve already tipped her on the website, but this more of a ‘please don’t touch my boyfriend without his consent tip’ than a ‘thank you for your work tip.’ “Have a nice day, ma’am,” Sara tells her, shutting the door.

Brendon smirks, but there’s a weariness behind it, “Way to save the day, baby. Getting possessive?”

“No, I love it when others check you out. Just validates how hot I am for you. You just sounded like you do when you get overwhelmed at the grocery store, and I figured you were feeling a little claustrophobic,” she explains.

Brendon nods. “I don’t mind a flirt, but she was getting way too handsy. And even then, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world; I just felt a little vulnerable being shirtless and all. She probably just wanted a big tip. I bet that works for her a lot. And y’know, I probably shouldn’t have been shirtless at all. If I was in a restaurant, they’d have every right to kick me out, so really, I’m lucky she didn’t blacklist my address,” he rambles, turning to get plates and silverware from the kitchen.

Sara touches his shoulder and grabs the bags of food from him. “Hey, B, you don’t need to justify your feelings, okay? I get it; she was in your space. Both your personal space by touching you and your physical area by being near your home. But it’s sweet of you to give her the benefit of the doubt. You’re probably right, I would guess that works with nine out of ten guys; she was cute. And hey, I gave her a nice tip to get her to go away, so it worked on us too.”

“And you got to brag to a stranger about our hot sex life, so it really did all work out in the end,” Brendon half-jokes, and she’s happy to observe that any panic seems to have left his body.

“Mhm, my favorite hobby. Maybe we should order dessert, and I can change into something even more slutty. This shows my ass so nicely, but my chest is totally covered,” she suggests, and he cracks a real smile for her. “Seriously though, you’re totally good?”

“Yes, ma’am, everything’s perfect,” he responds, and he’s telling the truth.

“Good, let me set up dinner then. You go relax on the sofa,” she orders.

Brendon goes to sit on the couch, knowing better than to deny a direct request. Sara plates the food and brings it to the now dim living room, where Brendon’s lit three candles in the center of the table.

“Awww, how romantic,” she praises, settling against Brendon with their food.

“I had more romance planned, I promise, I just weighed my options, and I cared more about snuggling with my girl than trying to overdo it on decorating the living room,” Brendon responds. “I do still have wine in the fridge if you want that?”

She twists around to kiss him. “The romance level is perfect. Consider me totally romanced. I think I’ll wait on the wine until later if that’s okay? It’ll make me sleepy, and I’m still interested in a round two,” she says, resting her hand against Brendon’s thigh.

“Whatever you want is fine with me, love,” he says, sighing contentedly.

***

“You’re falling asleep, babygirl.”

“Am not.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

Brendon smiles, “Do you wanna keep watching the movie, or do you wanna go to bed? If you’re sleepy, that’s fine, but we’ve gotta move to the bedroom then,” he murmurs.

Sara moves off the couch and stretches, turning on the light. “I’m not even tired; I took a nap earlier. It’s just the dim lighting and carb surplus. C’mon, let’s keep watching, it’s only 10 and we’re not even to the, ‘paint me like one of your French girls’ scene.”

“Okay, if you insist, then we’ll soldier on. I’ll get dessert,” he agrees, getting up to head to the kitchen.

“Ooo what’s for dessert?” she asks.

“Cannoli and coffee,” he responds.

Sara moans playfully. “God, Brendon, I’m so turned on right now.”

Brendon rolls his eyes. “I’ll try not to take offense that you’re more attracted to sweets than me.”

Sara wraps her arms around his waist from behind him. “I’d choose you over cannoli any day. Someone could offer me a thousand cannoli and I’d scoff in their face and then go kiss all over you. I love you, babe. Thank you for a great date night,” she says before spinning him around to kiss him.

“I love you too,” Brendon whispers against her lips. “Tonight was wonderful, and I owe it all to you.”

[symphonicspecter]

Subcon Family Headcanons

Have I mentioned that I LOVE the idea of Snatcher basically just adopting a hundred child spirits and all these kids hanging out in the forest and caring for each other as siblings? @birdsareblooming‘‘s post inspired me to get my butt in gear and finally write all the thoughts I have

These are going under a read more because there’s a lot

(Any time I say spirits, I mean both Dwellers and Subconites)

All those little dolls the Subconites possess? Snatcher made those. He’ll drop everything to repair them if they get damaged. He spent days making all of them early on. Some of the Dwellers just didn’t want bodies, and he respected that and let them be. He’s taught some of the Subconites how to sew, so that they can repair themselves or if they want to make modifications or clothes for themselves.

Everybody knows everybody’s names. Some of the spirits use the same names they did in life, others made up new ones. They think it’s very important to always spell and pronounce names correctly.

If an outsider makes anybody uncomfortable everyone else goes into Get His Ass Mode

The Minion/Boss relationship is mostly just for intimidation. Regularly, the spirits refer to Snatcher as “Snatcher” “Dad” , or a nickname they made up, some like how “Boss” sounds too, But when outsiders are around, he becomes ““The Boss” exclusively, and they pretend like he’s intimidating. They like taunting about eternal servitude and permanent soul removal in their idle chat. And Snatcher acts a little bossier with them. It’s all to scare whoever is currently contracted.

Snatcher is very adaptable for the spirits. Some of them are easily discouraged or self-conscious, so he speaks more softly to them and never has them talk to him in work mode. Others love to do tasks, so he gives them chores, even when nothing needs done. He knows which ones are mute, have trouble talking, are sensitive to certain words, like to rant about their interests...

Everybody is valid! When Subcon froze over and everyone became ghosts (some with memories, others without), it essentially became an opportunity to start an entirely new society. They all foster a ““you can do whatever you want as long as you don’t hurt anybody”attitude. Along with choosing new names, some of the spirits wanted new pronouns. Queer? Neurodivergent? It’s all cool with the Subcon gang they will accept and validate you

Subcon Village is where the most houses are. The spirits take up residence in old houses, trees, anything that can be a cozy shelter. They mostly live close to each other, and several live together. 

Snatcher has a check-in rule...if somebody has gone unseen for several hours, it’s time to look for them. Even with everyone already dead, there are a lot of dangers in the forest. So anytime somebody plans on hiding away for a while or wandering off by themselves, they tell somebody else. They all keep tabs on each other to stay safe

One of the Subconites made Snatcher a #1 Boss mug

The Subconites get excited to show Snatcher things they’ve made/done and he always turns into Proud Boasting Dad for them

Like a Subconite could show him their drawing of a tree and he’d be like Wow That’s So Good You’re So Talented!!!!!

Some of them want to give him the things they make. He has a special little place higher up in his tree where he keeps all of it. Sometimes he just goes up there and looks through stuff

Some of the more musically inclined spirits get together to practice and play. And they’ll invite Snatcher too

Games! Whether it’s Tag or Uno or Monopoly. The kids are always playing something. Sometimes it’s a big group of dozens, other times it’s a little group of four or five. And of course, they invite Snatcher to play with them too. 

They all talk to each other so much, any news, gossips, jokes, what have you gets spread to everybody in a few hours 

Movie nights...They get a big cloth and hang it between trees for a screen, and hook up an old projector and some type of player. It could be a movie left laying around from old Subcon,or something Snatcher stole from outside. A big crowd will settle on the ground and in trees and they’ll watch one or two or five movies

Campfires! They make a fire and gather around it and tell stories. Maybe they’re scary, maybe they’re not. It could be a story made up on the spot, something from a book, something they wrote themselves..they pass stories around for hours. None of them eat but they’ll put various things on sticks just for the thrill of catching it on fire

The spirits know not to bring up Vanessa 

Most everybody knows how to deal with Snatcher in a bad mood. Whether he’s depressed or angry..after enough time they’ve learned what sets him off, when to give him space, when to give him hugs and kind words 

Hugs and cuddles galore oh my god

All the Dwellers and Subconites are like siblings and say ““I love you” all the time

Snatcher has a hard time saying or accepting the L word but that’s okay, there’s a hundred ways to show it

Snatcher will take recommendations on what tasks to put on contracts

Snatcher has a hard time saying no to any of the kids, unless he’s in a bad mood. If he says no or seems annoyed, it’s a clear sign that something is bothering him

Cuddle piles...this mostly happens amongst the Subconites but sometimes a Dweller or two joins in or some of them want to cuddle on Snatcher

Snatcher steals from people in nearby towns...In game he says he steals mail. That’s his main method of theft as it’s the easiest. He redistributes to the Subconites. They love reading gossip in mail. Even a bill can be used for an art project. The best is when he snatches packages...who knows what fun things are inside! That’s how some of them ended up with smartphones 

If Snatcher finds out that any of them want something specific, he’ll look for that when he’s out, That’s when he breaks the mail theft routine and might steal from elsewhere or con somebody into giving him whatever the item is

Besides just getting mail that Snatcher stole, the Subconites like to send each other mail. Yeah they can easily go talk to each other, but writing letters and sending packages is fun. They take their mail to Snatcher and he distributes it once a week

Snatcher absolutely will tease the kids...pretending to not understand something they’re telling him, mispronouncing the name of whatever they’re talking about, terrible puns, holding something out of reach, silly voice imitations, standard horrible dad humor

If anybody so much as looks at one of the kids wrong, Snatcher will end them

How the Subconites respond to a contractor heavily influences how Snatcher treats them...if you make friends with them, he’ll consider letting you go, but if they don’t like you...

The spirits are just as protective of Snatcher. If a contractor talks bad about Snatcher or tries to hurt him, they go into defensive mode. They’re ready to make a little plush shield around him, to kick some ass, or to check on him and tell him nice things afterwards. Or, like in game, to be his cheer squad while he does the ass kicking himself

If anybody is having a hard time you can bet the rest of the forest is saying/sending nice things to them instantly

Subcon has its own inside jokes/memes..

Several of them pitch in to decorate or host activities for holidays. Around a holiday, Subcon Village is covered in decorations. They have their own traditions, taking from what they remember from being alive, what outside towns do, and anything they think would be fun to add

They all teach each other..Snatcher taught some of them to sew, he teaches some of them about law, he’s shown a few how to play violin and cello...they teach each other about space, biology, painting, historical figures...it’s very common for them to talk about their interests and to want to learn about someone else’s

Sometimes Snatcher reads out loud for a group of spirits. He picks out books specifically for it, and then lets them pick from the collection

Every so often they plan events..maybe a bunch of them get together to write/make/perform a play, or the musicians hold a concert, or there’s open mic/creative writing readings, or dances! They always run it by Snatcher to get the okay and to get help planning/scheduling/reaching out/spreading word. There’s always a great turnout at these, with most or maybe even all of the spirits attending!

Sometimes Snatcher practices his Intro with a Subconite or two, and they give him some tips on how to be scarier

Yeah, arguments and misunderstandings happen occasionally, but they get resolved quickly

The kids tend to go to Snatcher for advice and with questions. He doesn’t like to bring up his own problems with them as he doesn’t want to bother them.

Snatcher, the Dwellers, the Subconites..they tend to just get a little burst of happiness seeing each other/saying hello

Snatcher just genuinely enjoys the company of the kids, and playing with them, and when they get so excited to talk to him it just makes him so happy, and he’s so protective of them...And just the same they respect him so much, and look up to him, and feel safe with him, and try to look out for him

They’re all there for each other and have a secure relationship 🖤

[trillian-anders]

subservient

pairing: charles blackwood x reader

warnings: slight dubcon & angst, smut. death.

word count: 3.5k

description: Left caring for your Grandfather after the death of your parents you lay in wait for his own death when you’ll finally be free from Blackwood men and your expected submission for good. But when Charles Blackwood shows up on your doorstep all of those dreams are shattered. After all, it was another Blackwood house, with another Blackwood fortune to be won.

There was a demon behind those eyes. Those blue eyes that looked into your very soul. They taunted you. There was evil and greed in his movements. The ferocity in which he carved the whole chicken, the practiced sawing of the knife carving through flesh you imagined as yours. He was going to eat you alive. And there was nothing you could do to stop it. His suit tonight was a dark blue paired with a cornflower yellow shirt, the ring he wore on his left hand catching the light, freshly polished this morning by your own two hands. That same ring had been tangled in your hair not more than an hour ago, his tang still on your tongue despite the heavy brushing you had done. 

The chicken tasted of sawdust. 

The devil across from you was grinning, cutting his chicken into pieces, swallowing them down into his gullet, washing it down with wine. Grandfather’s eating was sloppier this evening, hands shaking, he’s dropped his fork three times. 

“Y/N!” He’s dropped it again, fussing until you’ve replaced it. 

“Uncle, I think it would be best if you’ve got a little more rest this evening, maybe that would help with your current condition.” Charles spoke carefully, suggestively. Grandfather smacks his lips, mouth dry. 

“Perhaps you’re right.” The old man sat back in his chair, looking upon you. “I think after dinner I’ll take my bath and go to bed. Perhaps I’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Yes, Grandfather.” You agreed. There’s a small hope that this early rest would allow you some early rest as well, but the Cheshire grin Charles currently was sporting quickly snuffed out that hope. 

The fire was lit in the parlor. Charles lounging back in Grandfather’s chair, sipping Grandfather’s brandy, smoking Grandfather’s cigar. You stand hesitantly in the doorway, paused trying to sneak up the stairs without alerting him. You watch his head shift to the side, eyes glazed and distant. A different record is playing, something jazzier than Grandfather would like. One that had belonged to your parents you suppose. Your heels were clasped in your left hand, dangling by your side. Stockings softly padding across the floor as you crept to the stairwell. You didn’t make it far. 

“Where are you going Kitten?” His eyes were still staring distantly into the fire, cigar butt burned out in the ashtray next to him, brandy drained with the snifter still in his hand. His eyes slowly shifted over to look at you, halfway up the stairs. There was one heartbeat, then two. A chill ran down your spine at his vacant eyes. You bolted.

His quick footsteps could be heard behind you, thundering up the stairs not far from where you were. If you could just get to your room and lock the door you’d be able to avoid him until morning. Fate had other plans. Your smooth stocking hitting the hardwood floor, slipping your feet from beneath you, causing you to land harshly on your tailbone. Charles’ eyes wide and wild, he fell to his knees on either side of your waist, hands coming to grab your wrists. You throw your shoes at him, hitting him in the face, cutting the bridge of his nose. An animalistic growl left his throat, hands coming to grasp your wrists, sitting heavily on your hips to subdue your kicking legs. 

“You were so good for me earlier Kitten, why’d you have to ruin all that now huh?” Spittle landed on your face, his pink tongue coming out to wet his lips as he lay his chest against yours, crushing you with his weight and pinning your wrists to the floor. You opened your mouth to scream, for who, you didn’t know. One of his hands quickly coming to cover your mouth. “He can’t and won't help you, you know that you stupid bitch.” Heavy breaths from your nose as he held you there on the floor until you both calmed somewhat. His eyes shifted wildly between yours. “Now...” He paused, huffing with annoyance, “Go draw my bath.” 

The bathroom mirror fogged in condensation as the water idled, billowing up steam causing you to slightly perspire in the cotton house dress you were currently wearing. You sat on the lip of the tub, staring at the soft roses painted on the tile that surrounded it. The water shifted as Charles moved beneath it, setting into his seat. A smattering of dark chest hair led to his naval which in turn led to the dark curls surrounding the base of his cock which stood at half mast. 

He was getting off on making you uncomfortable. 

It was the control. The power he had over you simply by being a Blackwood man. He would always come first in your Grandfather’s eyes. Not you who has sacrificed your limited freedom by taking care of him in his old age. Not you who endured years of punishment becoming the ‘perfectly obedient’ girl that you were. Your patience and kindness had not paid off. Every day that passes, Charles becomes closer to Grandfather. And you’re shifted back into place at the bottom rung of the ladder. The fortune, the house, all of it will pass to Charles. And then you’ll be serving him until one of you dies. 

A sick feeling settled into your stomach. Could you really do this for the rest of your life? 

It was one thing to take care of Grandfather. You believed patience, time bided, you would have your freedom eventually. He was old enough that he could go at any time. It wouldn’t have been long before he passed, leaving you as the heir to the fortune and the house where you’d be free to live your life as you see fit. Which would most likely be as a spinster. You’ve thought about taking up gardening, painting maybe, and living the rest of your days in this house on the outskirts of town alone, but free. 

Charles was not part of this plan. 

The charming Blackwood male was more suitable for Grandfather to leave your fortune to, and you with it. 

A wet hand gently, too gently, grasped yours and your eyes reluctantly left their spot on the tile, shifting towards the cause of your distress. His eyes were blue, so blue. If you hadn’t known any better you could fall for those eyes, but you’ve been given a peak at the darkness behind them. That’s all you could see. Something sinister. 

“I’ll take care of you Kitten,” He rasped, bringing the tips of your fingers to his lips, “I promise to always take care of you.” Pressing his lips to the pads of each fingertip, he drug your thumb against his bottom lip softly. “You’ve gotta work with me here. Take care of me and you’ll want for nothing.” He brought your hand to his chest, laying over his heart. “When the old man dies, we can do whatever we want. You can go into town again, we can go further than the town.” He drifted your hand lower, beneath the water. “Paris? Venice? London? Athens? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” Your fingers found the base of his cock, his hand taking yours to wrap around it. 

“Charles, please.” You begged, your core tightening as he began to jerk himself with your hand. “I just want to leave.” 

He took a rugged breath, “I’m a better man than them Kitten.” You could feel him throb beneath your fingertips, now fully hard, tip growing red. “You’ll be loved by me,” His eyes drifted closed, tightening your hand around his length, speeding up to thrust his hips into your hand. “You’ve never been loved by a man, not like me.” Lips parting to let out soft groans. Your face flushed at the wetness beginning to accumulate between your thighs. It wasn’t long before he let out a groan, spilling his cum into the water, thrusting his hips haphazardly twice more before releasing your hand and draining the tub. “Get my towel.”

…

Grandfather was ill. You called for the doctor, awaiting his house call to examine your Grandfather and determine what ailed him. That being said he was served in his bedroom that day. If this were any other circumstance you’d be hopeful that he’d just die already. Cousin Charles changed things. Currently the only liberties he had taken were making you pleasure him, by mouth or by hand. You feared things would change once Grandfather passes, and you still had no plan as to how to leave this house and survive. 

Your money was given to you as an allowance before. Weekly and a portion set aside for groceries. Since Charles had taken over the grocery order you’ve been given nothing. The money left in your purse wasn’t enough for a decent meal let alone somewhere to stay. You had a sheltered life. You were never expected to work, never taught anything that had to do with working. You could cook somewhere you suppose, but didn’t know where to begin in even looking for a job outside of this town. And if you left you would not be able to stay in this town because Charles would surely bring you back. 

You’ve also never left the 20 mile radius of this house, no clue how to get from one place to the other and were never taught to drive. That shiny red convertible that sat in the gravel drive sat taunting you. Arms crossed as you stared out the front bay window, you waited for the doctor to arrive. He should be here any minute. Charles sat at Grandfather’s bedside. Kissing his wrinkled ass no doubt. You had to figure something out, a way out, and quickly. With more speed than the oncoming death of your Grandfather at the very least. 

“Thank you so much Doctor,” Charles was shaking the thin older gentleman’s hand by the front door. 

“Give me a ring if the illness hasn’t subsided in three days.” The Doctor glanced over at you, then back at Charles who was ushering him out the door. 

“Of course!” And with a wave the good doctor was on the other side of the well oiled front door. 

“What did he say?” You asked. Charles hadn’t let you in the room with him and the doctor. It was indecent he said. 

“Nothing you should worry about Darling.” He said with a smile. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, examining you for a moment before saying, “Shouldn’t you get started on dinner? Perhaps some stew for my Uncle, something soft and easy to eat.” It was unsettling. The way he talked to you sometimes. He frightened you, sure, but he was hot and cold. Darling when he was light, Kitten when he was dark. The pattern. There was something he was keen about. You could tell. 

Grandfather looked a shell of a man, propped up against his pillows, his striped pajamas damp with sweat as you spooned small amounts of stew into his mouth. 

“Lyndon B Johnson won the election.” Charles shifted the newspaper in his hand to show Grandfather the picture. He continued on with the article, explaining the democratic leader and what the electoral college had come out to. Explaining how he felt as though Johnson had only won the election against Goldwater because of Kennedy. You wish you cared more about politics, but honestly you weren’t taught to. It was men’s speak. “Darling?” He called your attention. You gently spooned another mouthful to Grandfather, pausing to shift your eyes over to him,

“Yes?” He thumbed a page of the paper. 

“I think he needs some water.” So go get him some. It sat on the tip of your tongue, but was swallowed. You gently placed the bowl down on the end table and left to go fill the request, returning a few moments later to Charles leaning over your Grandfather and quickly shouting, “He’s not breathing!” Your heart drops in your chest and panic sets in, vision clouding at the edges. “Y/N!” You quickly ran to the phone, hands shaking as you turned the rotary. By the time the Doctor had returned, it was too late. Grandfather had passed. His body was quickly taken from the home by the coroner and you were left in shock, crying, with a wolf. 

There was a silence between you. His hands were stuffed in his dark slacks, eyes trained at the front door seemingly waiting for something. You were sitting in the parlor, direct eyesight from him, watching the flames rage on in the fireplace before you. “What did you do?” You asked, voice thick in fear. Silence, feet shifting until you felt him enter the room. “Did you kill him?” Your eyes slowly met his. You could feel tear tracks on your face, skin tight and puffy from crying. Charles, well, he had a soft smile on his face. Your heart leapt into your throat. 

“He can’t control you anymore Kitten.” 

“No, only you can do that now.” You spat, you stood from the couch, walking around it to put some distance between the two of you. Charles sucked his teeth,

“I told you I’m going to take care of you Kitten, you didn’t need him anymore.” 

“You don’t want to take care of me Charles, you want the money and the house, you want me to-” You couldn’t say it. You were here when he needed to get off. 

“But here’s the thing Kitten,” He chuckled softly, “I was always going to get the money and the house, you… were a bonus.” His teeth caught his lower lip as he stared you down. 

“I’m gonna tell.” Your body trembled, “You’ll be sent to prison.” His gaze darkened on yours. Predator and prey. 

“Now why would you go and say a dumb thing like that?” Why would you go and say something dumb like that? Your core thrummed in response. The silence between you broke as you went to make your escape, running down the hall to the back door of the house, yanking it open and running out into the cold air of the night. You could hear his heavy foot falls behind you as you made it to the treeline before strong arms wrapped around you and threw you to the dirt from behind. You landed harshly on your hip, left shoe slipping off and you could feel your toes dig into the soft dirt beneath you as you tried to stand. He was quick. 

“Get up.” His large hand wrapped around your forearm, dragging you to your feet before he bent over, picking you up over his shoulder before bringing you back into the house, kicking and screaming the whole way. He quickly had you up the stairs and carried you into a room which used to be your parents. A room you hadn’t gone in other than to clean since they had passed. It was a royal bedroom. That’s how you always viewed it anyway. 

The walls were a cream color with an ornate gold pattern, rich dark wood furniture including the four poster bed that held royal blue bedding. The mattress gave way easily when you were thrown upon it. You screamed as he roughly handled you, turning you on your stomach and dragging your hips over his lap, skirt bunching around your waist. His leg came to pin your legs down, the tips of your toes grazing the floor as his hand met the back of your neck. “Shut. Up.” He pushed your face down into the duvet, smothering your cries while his other hand ripped your panties down to where his right leg had yours pinned. 

It was hard to breathe and your adrenaline was slowly waning, bringing you back to where you were. Vulnerable beneath his strong hands. A loud crack against your soft bottom caused you to cry out once more. You were no stranger to a spanking, it was your Father’s favorite method of punishment, but while your Father would give you a standard 10 or 20 depending on your behavior, you had no idea when Charles would stop. 

“This hurts me you know,” His hand met your other cheek with just as much force as the first, “I just want to take care of you Kitten.” Tears streaming down your face as he dealt your punishment, switching from one cheek to the other, marking your ass with a vibrant hot red. It wasn’t long before you felt your clit begin to throb. This thrumming in your core that conflicted with the fear you felt for him. It was terrifying, 

“I’m going to take care of your Kitten, even if it’s by force.” His hand had stilled, gently rubbing your stinging bottom that his hand prints now adorned. His leg loosened just enough to adjust your legs, parting them. You could feel the cool air of the room on the wet junction between your thighs. His thick fingers slipped between your legs, gently touching your folds. “I know what's best for you.” 

Your face flushed in embarrassment, for the first time in your life fingers other than your own were touching the intimate place that only your husband was supposed to. “Charles don’t.” You begged, hips trying to wiggle yourself out of place. 

“But you’re so wet Kitten,” His fingers dipped between your folds, slowly stroking, finding your entrance and tracing it, before dragging a finger up to your clit. You gasped. “Let me take care of you.” His gentle strokes flushed your body in a way you’ve only done before. This feeling so strange when it’s not by your own hand, you gushed with it, mouth parting to pant into the bed spread, drool pooling beneath you. He applied more pressure as you tried to suppress a moan. You wanted it to stop, but also felt as though you would explode if you didn’t cum. It felt so forbidden, something you never thought would happen, but as your own body betrayed your conscious you wanted more. Charles was happy to oblige.

He let your left leg fall to the floor, spreading his prize open for him as you stopped trying to escape. He was hard as rock knowing he’s the first person to touch you there, his expert fingers spreading you open to look at your glistening heat. A finger dipped into your entrance to the first knuckle, body tensing in fear he shushed you, “Relax.” He said. As if you could. 

He slowly pushed his pointer finger inside you until you could feel it pressed against your walls, searching, curling to rub against the spot he had been looking for that made you audibly moan into the mattress, hands white knuckled, gripping the bed. “That’s it, moan for me Kitten.” He curled his finger against that spot, the hand that had been on your neck left to take its place, bringing a thumb to your ignored clit as he also added a second finger, scissoring them before continuing his assault on the rough spongy patch you didn’t know existed. 

You could feel it building, there was a tightening in your stomach as your toes curled against the floor, you didn’t realize it, but your hips were meeting his hands, pushing back against him wantonly asking for more. And he was happy to give it, fingers working you until your vision went white and your body tensed before moaning loudly with release. It was glorious. Tremors went through your body as he worked you through your orgasm, your body flushed, panting moans as you bucked wildly in his lap as he brought you down. “That’s it,” The aftershocks were wearing off and you were flooded with shame. “Such a good girl Kitten.” He moved you off his lap, walking into the restroom before returning with a bottle of lotion. 

As he began rubbing the lotion onto your sore backside and trying to soothe your tearful face with sweet praise a bubbling began in your gut. A sick feeling of shame and lust. What if he’s right? 

Everyone wants to be loved, and you thought at one point that your Mother must love you, but it was never proven. You’ve never known love. Was this what it is? Charles knew Grandfather had been cruel to you, he knew you wanted him dead, so he did it. Other than the few instances when he’s used you to make himself cum, Charles has never been especially cruel to you. You were conflicted. In the few romance novels you have read, this was not quite how any of them have happened. 

You watched Charles disappear once more, returning with a silk night dress from your bedroom before changing your clothes himself. Your mind still refusing to move your body. He quickly changed into his own pajamas, joining you in bed, shifting the two of you under the covers and clicking the lamp off, curling his body around yours tightly. 

“Go to sleep darling, we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.” If your eyes were less heavy and limbs less lifeless you would have begun to panic at the thought. Grandfather was dead. There was a funeral to plan, but more importantly, there was a will to read. 

.

.

.

@albinotigerpython​

[xxxtrouvaillexxx]

Paper Cranes

 A/N: I swear that I’m working on the first chapter of LSaD, I plan to have it out by THIS Saturday! I promise that it’s coming! In the mean time, I’ve been working on this piece for a hot minute and it’s kind of just been sitting around in my drafts and in the back of my head. So~ while you wait, here is a little something something to keep the waters calm. And I needed a little something to deal with quarantine. 

Pair: Bucky x Reader (platonic)

Synopsis: Y/N is an empath... More specifically, a healer with empathic abilities, which leads to from very severe trauma for y/n but you’d never stop helping your team for the world. Even when that trauma leads you to spend a night on to roof in tears and a very heated talk with your best friend Bucky.

Masterlist

Warning(s): angst (I’m a sucker for it...), an alarming amount of fluff, as usual.

Word Count: 3,931

The Tower has been bustling with life ever since the city closed down, or more aptly, the world as it seems. Every single one of the Avengers, other than Barton himself, was closed up in the same building for the last three weeks, and the air was becoming more restless every day. And the more anxious it became inside of these walls, the world was still doing worse for wear. 

You, feeling all of that, felt all of your own worries too. Not that you let anyone in on that little fact. You’re the personal on-site doctor to the Avengers along with being one of the hero’s themselves, though you had no real special power to name in the ways of fighting. You simply were rather good at kicking bad guy butt and were a rather well-known assassin with the Black Widow herself.

And though the two of you are as close as sisters, she doesn’t even know about your ability.

“Lady Y/N!”

You whipped your head around so quickly at Thor’s booming voice, you could have sworn that you’d given yourself whiplash, but you managed to give the large man a large grin and match his excitement.

“Thor!”

Laughing, he scooped you up and off of the floor in a tight hug as if you were light as a feather. If there was anyone who, throughout the entire time of being shut up in a building with the worlds most lovably irritating heros, could keep spirits high, it was Thor. The man was like a giant teddy bear, to be frank. You could swear that the only time you ever see him get intensely serious about an issue is during a mission, and it surely wasn’t anything you were going to start complaining about now.

Letting you down again to stand on your own feet, he grinned widely and with mischief.

“I require a bit of aid, I’m afraid. Sparring with the two super soldiers seems to be only a tad bit more interesting without the use of powers.”

“Don’t let him fool you, doll. We pummeled him and he doesn’t want to admit it,” Bucky said from the doorway. Steve was coming up from behind him with a smile too.

“Well, it seems you boys have had an eventful morning then.” The humor was obvious in your voice and they all laughed, Thor of course boomed.

“Indeed!”

“Well, how can I assist you three then?”

“Just Thor today, actually. He thought it would be funny to go easy on us old geezers. Lessons learned,” Steve said grinning as he passed you with a pat on the shoulder to the kitchen.

Thor after, another, belly full of laughter, showed you the bruises that now littered his arms and torso. There were no major wounds, and it looked like it was just hand to hand sparring, though if it were anyone other than Thor the damage would have been far worse coming from the two super soldiers.

Shaking your head, you smiled and pointed him to the couch. “You might as well get comfortable while we do this. You’ve got enough bruises to keep me busy for a week,” you joked and sat down beside him. “You know the drill, eyes closed and deep breaths.”

He followed your orders without complaint and you rested your hands against his chest first and matched your breathing to his and felt the steady stream of power flow through you. It was light, airy and cool, shining a beautiful gold from your fingertips in waves. But as gorgeous as it looked, this amazing power to heal the injured was a double-edged blade.

As soon as the marks on his skin began to fade and return to its normal color, images of their match flashed in your mind. Every punch and kick that Thor received felt like a blow of your own. Needless to say, you figured it hurt a lot more for you than it had for the god in front of you. Even if you knew that you didn’t physically attain any of the damage, it didn’t dull the sharp pains that coursed through your body.

The reason you always made them close their eyes before healing them of anything, an illness, battle wounds, haunting dreams, or trauma, was because it was easier than trying to force down every wince and grimace. Sometimes it just seemed impossible, which is also the reason you tried to keep healing sessions like this to more personal settings, not that that was always possible.

After a few measured deep breaths to match with Thor’s, you moved onto his arms and repeated the process. It didn’t take long, and by the time you were finished the sharp pains had faded into something of a dull throbbing. Though you didn’t imagine that would stop anytime soon.

“I feel like a brand new man! Thank you, Lady Y/N!” He grinned and launched himself into another suffocating hug before turning to the men in the kitchen. “I will remember to not pull my punches with you two the next time around!”

“We’ll look forward to your next challenge then. But don’t go crying to Y/N next time you get your ass handed to you,” Bucky hollered back.

“Hey! Language!” You exclaimed with a laugh when you heard Steve grumble and say something about needing to forget that moment ever happened… Not that any of you ever would, of course.

You all sat around for a while before Steve went off to speak with Tony about something or another and Thor decided to find and pester his brother. ‘Which I’m sure I’ll have the pleasure to hear about later from Loki himself’, you thought with a chuckle. And soon enough it was just you and Bucky left in the kitchen sharing a peaceful silence and tea for several minutes.

The two of you had grown particularly close over the time since he’s come to the tower and in Wakanda. He was one of your closest friends next to Natasha. Because of that, you took extra care of him not that you’d ever tell him that. You took extra time with him in the evenings and during routine checkups to help him with his nightmares and the general horrors his mind puts him through. You’d be sure to brush your hand across his skin periodically throughout the day subtly to draw out any built up worries and anxieties and he usually stayed pretty close by when he was feeling extra tense.

Of course, there was a part of you that dreaded his checkups and the late nights. Not because that you didn’t want to help him, but the pain that it caused you was sometimes almost to much for you to handle. His memories that flooded through your mind when you touched, the phantom pains you’d feel... You couldn’t understand how anybody could ever do something so absolutely horrible, least of all to another human being. And it was almost incomprehensible how Bucky had managed to survive so long after all of it, but you had managed to tie that to the fact that he was the strongest man you knew.

But no matter how much you may dread those visits and the things that followed, you would never stop helping him. And you would never tell him the truth about your power. You doubted that he’d ever let you continue if he knew what it did.

“I think everyone is going out for joyride tonight, you plan on joining?” He interrupted your thoughts with a warm voice and kind smile. 

“Not likely. I think I’ll just take the evening for myself. If everyone goes out, it might actually be quite around here for a change,” you chuckled. “What about you?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but Steve is trying pretty hard to get me out this time around.”

“So, probably then?”

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah, probably.”

“Where do they plan on going, anyway? Everything is shut down right now, so there isn’t much to do,” you asked. And it was true, with a global pandemic going around, everything was basically closed down until further notice everywhere. 

He shrugged and looked to the ceiling, “Who knows. Stark thought it would be a good idea to get the quinjets out and running before they sit around to long and need a toon up. And he thought it would be good for moral if we weren’t all cooped up in the tower again for another night together.”

You guffawed and shook your head. “Oh? And having everyone cooped up in the jets is going to be so much better for team moral, huh? Tell me how that works out for him.”

                                          »»-———————-««

It was roughly 11:30 now, and everyone was still out of the tower and flying around Lord knows where and you were in the tower alone. It had been nearly two months since these halls last ran silent except for the sound of your own footsteps. Nearly two months sinces you could freely express all of the pent up rage, and fear, and pain, and anxiety that has been building up inside of yourself.

On most if not all occasions, you were a very happy person. You enjoyed your work and the people you work with. You loved your family and friends, and the world even with all of its problems... And there were a lot of problems. And normally it would just be enough to spend a day to yourself with a book or a blank canvas and paint to release everything. You tried to always look toward the brighter side of things, but recently- without a way to vent out everything you’ve been taking in, things were to much. 

So you found yourself up on the towers roof at almost midnight with tears running down your cheeks and finding it hard to catch your breath. Your chest ached. The instant that the door closed behind you and you were hit with the cool night air it was like everything just rushed out in waves. 

You screamed, and wailed, and cried. You let yourself feel everything that you had been burying. Every last punch, kicks, knife and bullet, nightmare. It all came out in coughs and harsh please and grief. For yourself and for the people who went through it all. 

“It’s not fair,” you cried. “It’s not fair!”

After what felt like an eternity and your throat was coarse from the yelling and sobs, you felt like there was nothing left to cry. You’d gotten it all out and let go of everything, finally. And you knew you would be able to face everyone tomorrow as yourself rather than the shell of a person you have been until now. 

What you didn’t know, was that Bucky was there to witness it all.

                                         »»-———————-««

When you woke up the next morning you felt a great deal better than you had the previous night. Let alone the previous week. In a rather bright mood, you woke early and decided to make breakfast, nothing special because let’s be frank- you weren’t any Gordon Ramsey. But you could make a mean stack of pancakes and eggs.

An hour later, the kitchen was flooded with tired heros and grumbled good mornings. Though you were aware that Bucky seemed to linger in the doorway a little to long and continued to stare at you throughout breakfast. You could practically feel the discomfort and tension poor off of him. He didn’t mention it though so you assumed he wasn’t ready to come to you yet.

It wasn’t uncommon for Bucky to try and handle himself first, be it a nightmare or his own thoughts he tried to take care of it first. Sometimes it worked, sometimes not. But you never wanted to try and take that chance from him, so you let him be until he decided for himself.

They all happily ate their share of pancakes, gave thanks in some form or another; hugs, verbally, a slug to the shoulder, the usual. And then everyone dispersed to go about their own day. 

By the time that a week went by, you started to become genuinely concerned about Bucky. He was still tense and sticking close to you, but he wouldn’t let himself get close enough for you to touch him and draw out whatever it was that was causing him to be so worried. But he never left your side either. Everytime you left a room, a few minutes later he would follow. It was becoming so apparent that even Natasha said something over dinner, but Bucky didn’t bother to respond.

You didn’t want to take away the option of helping himself if he felt like he could, but he’s never gone longer than two days before saying something to you. It started to make you wonder if you had done something wrong or if he really felt like he didn’t need your help anymore.

Either way, you had to figure it out. The worry was beginning to choke you if you thought about it for to long. So after dinner, you excused yourself from the table and waited in the hall for Bucky to follow. 

Sure enough, after a minute he started down the hall too searching for which way you disappeared to.

You showed yourself to him and ignored his apparent surprise, “Are you okay, Bucky? Did something happen?”

His face changed, he looked hurt and sad. Like he couldn’t really bring himself to say anything or absorb what you asked. You waited patiently while he grapled for an answer. 

“What?” Was all that he managed to get out. 

“Well, you’ve been following me around a lot recently, and you only really stick to my side like this when you need to talk or help with something. But it’s already been a week and you haven’t said anything yet so I was starting to get worried that it was worse than usual or that maybe I did something wrong or that you-”

“That’s supposed to be my line!” He exclaimed, efficiently cutting off my nervous rant and giving me a turn at being confused. 

It must of been written all over your face because he quickly continued, “I was there. I saw- I heard you last week on the rooftop! How can you possibly be asking me if I’m alright!?”

Your heart stuttered to a stop at his words and you could practically feel the blood draining from your face. You didn’t even know where begin to explain why or what happened last week.

“Oh...” you trailed off and stepped back. “I didn’t know you were still here. I thought you went with Steve,” you have a humorless chuckle. “I don’t know why you’re so worried about it, I’m alright. Can we just forget about it?”

You knew it was a pathetic attempt to get him to let the problem go, you knew that there was no chance he was going to now that he’s been thinking about it for a week. 

“You were begging out there, Y/N. Begging! You can’t just tell me you’re alright and expect me to just let it go like this is nothing!”

You were silent for a long time, taking deep and long breaths to keep yourself calm before taking the corner of his sleeve and dragging him to your room. “We should go somewhere private so we can talk freely.”

He followed you without question.

                                        »»-———————-««

The two of you sat silently for nearly half an hour in your room. You felt completely uncomfortable in the situation. Usually, you were the one who was patiently waiting and comforting someone else while they thought over what they wanted to share or compose themselves. You were used to that, but being on the opposite end of that was new and something you came to learn within the first five minutes that you weren’t particularly fond of. 

Finally, Bucky decided to break the silence. “Why do you have so many origami cranes hangin’ in here?”

Your room decor was a bit unconventional, compared to that of everyone else in the tower that is. The room was covered in your own oil paintings, all the ones you deemed should never see the light of day but didn’t get rid of, couches and chairs, bookcases, and of course, countless bunches of paper cranes you’ve hung from the ceiling. Unconventional, maybe. But you loved it anyway. 

“There is a myth,” you nearly whispered it but you were sure that he caught the words anyway when he turned toward you. 

“Tell me about it?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “It’s an old Japanese legend. It says that anybody who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some of the old stories even say that you are granted happiness and eternal good luck instead of a wish. But you can use the wish on anything, a recovery to illness or injury for example. Usually they’re made as gifts for special friends or family.”

Standing, you grabbed one of the many strings of cranes and gave it to Bucky. “Cranes in Japan are considered holy creatures and supposedly live for a thousand years. That’s why a thousand cranes are made, one for each year of their life. And there are some stories that even say that all have to be folded within a year and strung together on the same string by the one who is making the wish for it to actually work.” You drifted off and smiled at the strand he held and shrugged. 

He stared at you for awhile before he looked around your room again. “All of them are stung on one sting.”

“So the legend goes,” you answered. 

“But you have at least a hundred of these hanging around your room,” he awed and shook the his gently. 

“53 to be exact. There are 53,142 cranes in this room. I’m working on another one now,” you laughed as his face grew in een more amazement. 

The strands all hung next to each other. Currently you had two rows of 25 and one of three. Honestly, it was rather beautiful in your opinion. It created a sort of curtain on one of your walls filled with different colors and stories. 

“Why?” He asked softly.

“Because I have a lot of wishes?”

“No. Don’t dodge. You wouldn’t have gone through all of this effort,” he waved toward the curtain, “for yourself alone. So why? How long have you been doing this for?”

“Nearly 15 years? I usually try to fold 10 every night before I go to sleep. You would be disgusted by how much I spend on paper,” you joked but he didn’t break. You groaned, “Fine! It’s because I didn’t know what else to do, okay? People were sad and hurting and scared, I felt it, and I didn’t know what I felt like there wasn’t anything I could do to help them. And so I started to make wishes for strangers mostly, people I felt needed it.”

“Felt?”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded hesitantly. “Or saw depending on the person. And it’s not like I’d ever do it on purpose, I’d just bump into someone and see everything! And I wouldn’t be able get it out of my head. I felt like there wasn’t anything I could do, Bucky. So I wished and wished and wished for them. For everyone.”

He looked at you incredulously, “Y/N... What do you mean, “See everything”?”

You blinked rapidly a few times and grabbed three more of the strands from the wall. “These,” you handed them to him, “are yours. These are the wishes I made for you. And before you say anything, just... Don’t freak out, okay? I didn’t make all of those to upset you, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I’m a healer, that’s always been who I am. But for me to be able to use that gift, I have to make physical contact with my patient. And I’ve been blessed to be able to mend body and mind! There isn’t anything in the world that would make me want to give up that gift, Bucky. But when I... touch people- anyone, Wanda, Nat, Thor, a stranger... You- I can see exactly how they got hurt mentally or physically. And I can feel the hurt too, like it were my own.”

You could barely bring yourself to say that last part, and it was barely a murmur as it were, but you knew that he heard it by the way that the color drained from his face and he slouched back a bit.

“Bucky,” you reached out for him but stopped when he flinched away from you. You swallowed harshly and continued, “I don’t hate it Bucky. I prefer it this way, really! It makes it easier for me to understand who I’m helping and more than anything else it brings me closer to them. I’m okay, Bucky.”

“Stop telling me that you’re okay! How could you possibly be after-” he paled more if that were possible as he looked at the four rows of cranes he carried now, “Oh my God. Four years, you’ve seen everyth- You’ve felt everything for four years! Y/N, I-”

“Don’t you dare try to apologise or regret coming to me, James,” you interrupted in a hurry. “If I can breathe then I’m fine. And I will never regret helping you when you needed me. You’ve never done anything wrong. And what you saw last week wasn’t usually how I deal with... Well, everything that gets piled up. Usually I go out for a day to breathe and just let go. It’s just that with everything closed down right now, I hadn’t had the opportunity in months. It got to much, that’s all. It had nothing to do with you, I promise.”

Everything you said seemed to go in one ear and out the other with him. He simply grasped the cranes tighter and refused to make eye contact. 

“Bucky,” you whispered again and reached for him one more time and this time, he didn’t turn away. His wave of emotions hit you hard, there were to flashes of images or memories, just feelings of regret and horror and shame and fear. “It’s okay,” you breathed and raised to give him a hug. “It’s okay Bucky.”

Slowly he calmed down, and his emotions subsided into ripples rather than waves. His regret eased along with his fears. He pulled away from you eventually and offered a weak smile, that didn’t necessarily confirm any suspicions that you may have that he was lying or otherwise. 

He held up the cranes and smiled, “Thank you, so much, for these.Y/N I can’t ever thank you enough for these, let alone everything else that you’ve done for me. I understand why you would’ve kept this to yourself, if I’d known sooner I’d never had come to you. But because I did- God, I can do things without begin afraid. I can go out with Steve and not freak out, or go through the night without nightmares. I’ve you to thank you for that. You’ve done more for me than I could have ever asked you, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that but-”

You smiled and shook your head, “This, Bucky, is plenty.”