#this idea came to me unbidden

[porcelaintoybox23]

Describing Honkai Star Rail characters based on the fandom’s tweets I’ve run into incidentally (not an exhaustive list)

(Typical) shonen waifu

Lesbian

Yae Miko

Future incel terrorist

Racist

Honkai Al Haitham

Not a g00mer Makima

Elderly Edgelord

Blade if his trauma made him funny

Ferdinand von Aegir

Chaeya’s love child specifically their mental issues

[fluffybunnybadass]

someone: I think you're annoying

me, with tears in my eyes: you think of me? 🥹

[ofieugogyshz]

"i love my husband," I grumble to myself, meticulously pouring over every single character in this code to try and figure out why it won't work for me despite having changed only some of the words so it won't be so generic. "i FUCKING LOVE HIM" i shout, smashing my hand against the table as the event continues to not load correctly until i get rid of a reference command that had worked fine in the original code. "I'm doing this," I say, gritting my teeth to keep more swears from flying out. "FOR HIM."

[goodugong]

I don't know where it came from, but several years ago this idea popped into my head unbidden, and for some reason it tickles me. I don't know if it's funny, but I like it and I made it into a zine, I hope you enjoy it.

It lays out really nicely as 3-up spreads on A4 paper, so you can print, staple and fold it, then cut it into 3 zines. It made it really easy to print up 20 of them to trade at this art social thing I went to

micron, rotring and sharpie on printer paper, coloured and screentoned digitally, 2024

If you want a digital or physical copy

[luveline]

i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((

pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)

Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 

“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 

Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 

“She won’t sit down.” 

Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 

“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 

“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 

“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 

Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 

The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 

Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 

“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 

“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 

“So?” Hotch prods gently. 

Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 

“The hates you one?” he offers. 

“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 

“Just hormones, Spence.” 

Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 

“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 

“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.

Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 

“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 

“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 

“Just the essentials.” 

Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 

“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 

Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 

“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 

“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 

“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 

“That works?” 

“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 

“I guess I worry too much.” 

“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 

They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 

Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 

He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 

“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 

“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 

He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 

You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 

“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 

Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 

[pin-k-ink]

HOME ⋆✦⋆ kuroo tetsurou

synopsis ➸ you knew nothing good would come from answering a late-night call from your ex’s number. but now that he’s drunk and helpless, you’re stuck with him. and you’re well aware of how this will end—you never could resist him

tags ➸ exes-to-lovers, mentions of alcohol consumption, drunk and clingy kuroo, teeny tiny bit of angst, hurt/comfort (kinda), dry humping, groping, biting, nipple play, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, squirting, begging, kitchen sex

wc ➸ 9.1k

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you growled, snatching your phone away from your ear to glower at the caller ID blinking incessantly.

The string of familiar numbers stared back at you mockingly against the too-bright screen, igniting a complicated tangle of emotions you'd fought to bury deep over the past year or so. That particular contact had been set to automatically bypass Do Not Disturb mode - a relic from simpler times before everything unraveled between you.

Before you'd reluctantly walked away from the love of your life for reasons that still stung with poignant ache.

With a weary sigh, you swiped to answer and tried steeling your voice into something approaching calm neutrality.

"Kuroo?" Your voice still caught slightly on the syllables of his name despite your best efforts. "It's the middle of the damn night, do you have any idea wha—"

"HEEEEYYYYYY!!! There she is! The light of my life, keeper of my—!"

Your brows furrowed as a raucous chorus of unfamiliar voices erupted in the background - tipsy laughter and joking catcalls that swiftly extinguished any flare of long-harbored hurt. Apprehension slithered up your spine as you registered the telltale slur to the once-familiar rasp on the other end.

"...Tetsurou?" you ventured again, unable to disguise the sudden edge of concern creeping into your tone. "Are you...where even are you right now?"

More scuffling and garbled background noise - the distinct cacophony of an evening in full revelry you'd become accustomed to long ago during varsity parties and volleyball socials. A crisp, unfamiliar baritone cut through the whirl of boisterous chatter then, clearer than the rest.

"Apologies for disturbing you so late, [Y/N]-san! It's Akiba from Kuroo's work team here." The perky voice paused to exchange a few muffled words amidst more inebriated hooting before returning ruefully. "We, ah...well we seem to have gotten our friend into a bit of a...state tonight."

You frowned, fingers reflexively tightening around the phone case as a particular rowdy whoop clearly carried Kuroo's timbre. A pit of unease opened in your gut as worst-case scenarios swirled unbidden. Despite the bitter fallout at the end, old habits died hard when it came to his wellbeing.

"What exactly happened?" you demanded, already pushing up from the couch to search for shoes and coat. "Don't sugarcoat it - is Tetsurou somewhere unsafe or in trouble?"

An awkward pause stretched from the other end, punctuated by more muted murmuring until Akiba cleared his throat carefully: "He...might have overindulged a bit in tonight's celebration and become a tad uncooperative about calling for a ride home, shall we say?"

The understatement settled like a lead weight somewhere behind your ribs even before you tuned back into the commotion filtering through. But it was Kuroo's sudden drunken declaration that swiftly blanketed you in resigned dread:

"Jus' call m’girlfriend, she'll swoop in an' rescue me again! 'Smyyyy...precious kitten...beautiful, preeecioussss..."

His slurred affection collided squarely with the messy reality of your current estranged relationship status without reservation. Of course, Kuroo had always been a relentlessly sappy, clingy drunk whenever you were around as his girlfriend to keep him anchored. And clearly, some long-buried part of him still instinctively grasped for you to be that tether despite the distance between you now.

You drew in a shuddering breath against the memories threatening to well up and sting behind your eyes. There really wasn't a choice here, was there? Not when it came to Kuroo's potential safety hanging in limbo like this for one sentimental instant.

"Yeah, okay...I hear you," you managed finally. "Just tell me where you assholes are and I'll come pick up the mess, okay?"

Akiba listed off a familiar bar address, hurriedly agreeing as you grabbed keys and coat to head out into the night. And as you descended the front steps into the brisk spring air, you steeled yourself against the maelstrom of tangled emotions bubbling just beneath the surface at the prospect of seeing your ex-boyfriend again in such unpredictable circumstances.

The rowdy dive bar loomed into view at last, dim neon signage flickering as the cab pulled up to the curb. You cast a steeling glance towards the entrance, squaring your shoulders in preparation before handing over the fare with a murmured thanks.

Despite having braced yourself the entire journey over, nothing could've quite fortified you for the sight awaiting within those grungy walls.

The instant you stepped through the doors, a chorus of raucous whoops and hollers erupted from the far corner booth. Your eyes immediately zeroed in on the source - a familiar form draped over the leather bench, shirt rumpled and hair artfully disheveled in a way that stabbed through your chest with acute yearning.

Kuroo Tetsurou.

His chin lolled forward, supported by a firm grip on his broad shoulders as he swayed precariously. Even from across the room, you could make out the bleary, lidded gaze roving sightlessly until his tawny eyes finally landed squarely on you.

A beat passed, the raucous background noise fading away entirely. Then Kuroo inhaled sharply through his nose, back straightening fractionally as you two locked stares through the smokey dimness.

"...Kitten?" he rasped out, the old pet name escaping without a shred of uncertainty or pretense.

His friends followed his dumbstruck gaze, muttering in surprise. But you remained transfixed, rooted to the spot as a dozen conflicting emotions ricocheted through your thoughts in rapid succession. Because despite the gulf of time, space, and irrevocably changed circumstances now separating you both...Kuroo was still drinking you in like a man stumbling upon an oasis after months adrift.

Like he'd only just realized you existed again after so long missing from the orbit of his singular focus.

He began to struggle against the firm hands clamped on his shoulders then, long legs splaying under the table clumsily in a clear bid to rise and approach. But before he could topple into the surrounding din completely, you spurred yourself forward once more - moving on autopilot towards his wayward form even as reason warred with instinct.

"Tetsu," you called out once within earshot, stomach clenching at the unwitting endearment rolling from your tongue so easily. "Let's just get you home and sobered up, alright?"

His disheveled head whipped up at the sound of your voice, features etched in mournful longing and boyish hopefulness in equal measure that left you reeling slightly. Then Kuroo shook off his friend's restraining grip with a sloppy roll of his powerful shoulders, surging upright to sway dangerously.

"But 'myyyy home," he rasped out almost petulantly, prowling a few steps into your personal space with that same prowling intensity from back when you'd shared quarters together. "My home's wherever you are, precious girl..."

His trembling fingertips ghosted over your cheek in a shockingly intimate caress for a man nearly insensate with inebriation moments ago. They trailed, featherlight, along your jaw and down the delicate column of your throat until your entire body hummed with white-hot tingles of restless, half-forgotten longing uncorked all over again so suddenly.

"Stars couldn't shine half as bright as you," Kuroo murmured, breath hot and tinged with whiskey against the shell of your ear as he boxed you in against one solid forearm braced along the peeling wallpaper. "M'heart's been a black hole swallowing allll the light since you left it, kitten...just cold and empty."

A shuddering inhale punched itself from your lungs as his nose nudged along your hairline, nuzzling unabashedly and utterly oblivious to the raucous hollers of his colleagues nearby. Kuroo's free hand settled heavy and possessive on your hip, bunching the fabric there as you instinctively surrendered beneath the delirious weight of his presence so intimately close once more.

"Please come home finally, precious," he rasped in a broken sigh...teetering on the edge of lucidity yet remaining unwavering in his raw ache for you to soothe some deep-seated wound even you'd never discovered the extent of during your time together until now. "I miss...so, so much..."

The crack in Kuroo's voice threatened to completely undo you from the inside out, body tensing in aborted retreat until you regained enough oxygen to think clearly once more. With gentle yet firm motions, you pried his wandering palms away and guided him back from your shared orbit of wistful temptation for just an instant.

"You're drunk out of your mind," you scolded, well aware of how hoarse and wrecked your own voice sounded now. "And I'm not your home anymore, Tetsu...we both know that."

One dark brow pinched fractionally at the reminder, lips parting around a sharp inhale. Before he could voice the tortured protest welling up behind that intense amber regard, though, you motioned for Akiba and the others watching on in stunned silence.

"Let's just get out of here," you sighed, already giving up the battle before it truly began. "I'll let him sleep at my place until he's fit to function like a big boy again. Then maybe we can actually talk properly when he's present for once..."

Exchanging subtle nods with the young men, you scooped up Kuroo's arm and slung it over your shoulders without needing to be told. The familiar, smokey cedar wood and old spice aroma swamped your senses fully, igniting a flurry of delirious intimacy in its wake like some Pavlovian response hardwired straight into your cerebellum.

Of course his solid weight pinning you close felt as natural as breathing after all this time...just like the hungry yet adoring look glowing in his dazed stare as Kuroo leaned in to nuzzle sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your cheek towards the thundering pulse in your throat.

"Gonna take such good care of me, kitten," he mumbled in that too-raspy cadence you'd memorized beneath the sheets so many steamy nights spent unraveling together. "'Smy good girl...always have the- the magic touch to put me back t'gether."

You swallowed thickly, grateful for the steadying hands of Akiba and a few others helping guide your stumbling entourage back out into the bracing midnight breeze before you surrendered entirely to the delirious, tactile torment of Kuroo's undivided debauchery laid bare once more like this. Despite the consequences already stretching out before you both in the form of that inevitable reckoning soon...you were already helpless to deny or escape from finally reuniting in the thrall of his gravitational pull a while longer.

So as you ushered your sloshing mess of an ex-boyfriend into a waiting cab, you couldn't help but steal a glance down at the contact listing for your number - helpfully still saved to his phone under that beloved nickname you could never seem to scrub from your wounded soul no matter how hard you tried:

My Precious Kitten 🖤

The cab ride back to your apartment passed in a delirious, heated blur of Kuroo's wandering hands and increasingly bold murmurs against your flushed skin. No sooner had you bundled his languid bulk into the backseat beside you before those long fingers were smoothing up your thighs and ghosting over the exposed column of your throat.

"Pretty kitten," he rasped gutturally, amber eyes glazed yet burning straight through you with naked yearning. "Lemme touch...need to relearn what heaven feels like after so long..."

You caught his straying palms just as they began roaming over your breasts, nipples pebbling traitorously underneath your shirt. Kuroo whined low in his throat, pawing against your restraining grip with intoxicated insistence until you leveled him with a stern look.

"Easy there, big guy," you managed in a tone far steadier than you felt. "Let's just get you settled somewhere more private before you try seducing me, yeah?"

The blunt teasing helped ground you both fractionally. Kuroo huffed out a thick chuckle smeared in tipsy amusement, allowing you to corral his restless limbs close once more. He turned to nuzzle his nose into your hair then, inhaling deeply with a shuddering exhale that caressed your nape in delicious wisps.

"Was always only ever yours to seduce, though," he confessed in a gravelly murmur tinged with mournfulness. "Miss your touch most of all, kitten..."

You swallowed hard against the sudden emotion clogging your throat, forcing yourself to remain as aloof and unaffected as possible. Just a little longer and you could bundle Kuroo off to sleep and collect yourself properly before allowing the tidal wave of still-lingering sentiment to crest in relative privacy.

Sure enough, the familiar facade of your apartment complex quickly hoved into view outside the grimy cab window. You nudged Kuroo gently until he roused enough to blink owlishly at the unfolding surroundings, momentary comprehension flickering behind that hazy stare.

"Wait...s'this your place?" he rasped in a rare moment of lucidity. "'Sgonna be real easy for me to mix signals and cross lines if y'bring me to bed again, baby..."

Rather than mount either indignant protest or bemused flirtation, you simply levelled him with a weighted look before shrugging gamely.

"Well unless you've got any better options handy, this is what you're stuck with right now," you declared mildly. "So let's just get you settled somewhere soft so tomorrow's hangover won't be quite so unbearable, hmm?"

His tongue darted out to wet full lips you definitely didn't track with laser focus, shoulders rolling beneath the rumpled button-down in that boneless shrug of idle surrender you recalled so intimately from happier times. Without further preamble, Kuroo roused himself enough to shuffle from the cab without excessive guidance, muscular forearm slung over your shoulder while you supported his swaying weight against your side.

From there, navigating the dingy entrance and dimly lit stairwells passed in another heated blur of scorching looks and whispered flirtations that made your skin prickle with slowly escalating temptation the closer your shared destination loomed. Somehow, you managed to guide your stumbling entourage down the hallway and swipe your apartment door open without too much struggle. But the feeble illusion of control vanished the second Kuroo's unsteady gait carried you both across the threshold with graceless momentum.

Your footing faltered, chest impacting the nearest wall with a low grunt of effort as Kuroo's arms encircled you from behind in a viselike brace. His chin hooked over your shoulder, the scruffy rasp against your nape sending fresh shivers slithering down your limbs until you trembled despite the radiating heat of his body pressed flush against your own.

"Easy...easy there, baby doll," he purred in a familiar rumble that punched straight through any lingering self-possession you'd been clinging to pathetically. "S'okay...lemme jus' hold you 'gain, hm? Been way too long..."

You inhaled a shuddery breath in time with the molten glide of Kuroo's wandering palms along your sides - exploring the dips and flares with a shameless sense of ownership that bordered on delirium in its intensity. He sighed gustily against your neck, each tremor of his chest seeming to reverberate all the way through your own ribcage until your heart galloped completely out of sync.

"You came when I called," Tetsu murmured in something resembling awe, lips brushing the shell of your ear in a searing brand that made you squirm helplessly. "Never shoulda gave up hope...not when y'feel so goddamn perfect in m'arms again, dollface."

His slurred endearments and the scorching heat of his hands mapping over every lush curve robbed you of any outward composure completely. A punched moan slipped free without restraint as he rolled his hips with aching leisure, allowing you to feel every rigid inch of his cock straining against the taut fabric below. Kuroo groaned low in his chest in response, nuzzling closer until your cheek slanted against his and you drowned in the earthy, intoxicating notes of his cologne still clinging to sweat-slick skin.

"Used to dream about this, y'know?" he rumbled out brokenly, dragging scalding kisses over the thundering pulse at your throat between panted confessions. "About findin' m'way back t'you some way...fallin' into bed together just like this an' never wantin' t'stop feelin' you everywhere again..."

Your head fell back against the solid weight of his shoulder in something akin to rapturous surrender as his hands and mouth roamed restlessly. Deep down, every syllable dripping from that low, raspy timbre you adored resonated with your very core - igniting long-buried embers to crackling life once more despite your staunchest denials.

Because you'd spent countless, endless nights chasing the very same fantasy, hadn't you? Indulging in the hazy, forbidden imaginings of Kuroo blazing back into your world like a black hole's gravitic allure - inescapable and irresistible as the cosmic forces driving his rapturous, ardent worship of your body yet again.

He seemed to sense the exact moment you teetered over the edge into resigned capitulation entirely. Kuroo stilled for a charged beat, the tension coiled in his looming frame transmitting straight through your merged forms in electric vibrations until every nerve ending pulsed in time with your rabbiting pulse.

"Yeah...that's m'good girl," he crooned against the fevered hollow of your nape in a silken rasp that robbed what little breath remained in your lungs completely. "Been waitin' so fuckin' patiently for me all this time, I bet. No need t'fight it anymore, kitten...I got you now."

With a low, ravaged sound rumbling from his chest, Kuroo twisted his hips in a practiced grind that had your knees buckling shamefully. One mammoth palm anchored around your shoulders, pinning you upright through the shockwaves as inch after delirious inch of his scorching erection rutted against the soft give of your ass in unhurried possession.

You cried out shamelessly at the torturous friction, hands flying up to clutch the arm banded across your abdomen in a desperate, futile anchor. But still Tetsu didn't relent - continuing his merciless rhythm as he sealed every searing inch to your form with leonine mastery, raining whiskey-soaked praises and growled endearments against your skin in a delirious mantra of sin.

"Such a perfect lil' fuck toy, takin' m'cock so pretty for me like y'were made for it," he rasped hotly at one point, making you quiver. "Can already feel those sweet walls squeezin' down like a greedy vice...yearnin' t'get stuffed up an' bred full of my babies again, ain't that right baby?"

You whimpered helplessly against the onslaught, hips unconsciously pivoting into each grinding roll as he mercilessly chased your unraveling higher with every crude vulgarity spilling free from his swollen lips and scorching exhales. Long-denied flashes of muscle memory stirred to vivid life - of nights blurring into mornings spent wrapped in Kuroo's powerful embrace as he took his fill and gave back in equal measure; of being stretched impossibly around his throbbing cock; of the addictive, dizzying rush of his cum painting your innermost depths white and dripping out messy and hot rivulets.

It was only once you'd finally managed to deposit Kuroo's bulk onto the plush embrace of your living room sofa that things quickly veered out of controlled territory altogether.

Because no sooner had you straightened up fully with the intent of retrieving some water and painkillers for what promised to be a brutal hangover come sunrise...only to find yourself promptly hauled back down into the sinuous sprawl of Kuroo's trembling form over yours with crushing urgency.

You gasped aloud as his powerful thighs caged your hips between them, vision swimming briefly until your senses managed to recalibrate around Kuroo bracketing your prone sprawl with utterly relentless possession. He loomed over you panting harshly, eyes finally focusing with piercing, unhurried intent that robbed you of oxygen entirely.

"Please..." he rasped with raw earnestness laced through each syllable, calloused palm settling over the thundering cadence of your pulse in a searing caress. "Pretty girl, I need you...I can't—I can't keep going like this without you anymore..."

Kuroo pitched forward then, hot and trembling as he nuzzled and sought out every slick expanse of your throat with unbridled ardor. Each open-mouthed suckle and rasping noise he painted onto your fevered skin sent another cresting surge of electric heat saturating straight through to your pussy like the sweetest poison drip-fed directly into your veins.

The only tether to reason you still desperately clung to through the rising fog of delirious lust crashed over you with each molten glide of Kuroo mapping every curve and hollow with a devotion that teetered beyond the obsessive into something profoundly more all-consuming altogether. Raw, boundless need burned behind every caress and filthy endearment he showered over your unraveling form - yearning so utterly visceral that you couldn't tear yourself free of its anchoring depths even as your own restraint frayed.

"I can't..." Kuroo rasped again in a voice wrecked with equal parts ruin and rapture intermingled. "Can't breathe without you in my lungs, baby...fuck, need you like oxygen or I'll—"

Whatever apocalyptic promise hung trembling behind his gaze went mercifully unvoiced. Because with one final shuddering inhale, you summoned the last fragments of your slipping resistance and twisted free from the delirious tangle of Kuroo's limbs before he could swallow you whole again.

The resulting whine that punched free from his chest sounded utterly shattering - eyes gone blown wide and anguished as he watched you hastily retreat towards the bedroom on shaking legs. You paused only long enough at the threshold to pin him with one last weighted look that hopefully conveyed a semblance of the tempest still roiling beneath your own defenses in the face of his unbound hunger.

"Get some sleep, Tetsurou," you managed with gentle steel laced behind each weighted syllable. "We...we can talk properly in the morning."

He opened his mouth to protest, clearly. But you had already turned and fled through the doorway entirely before granting his fraying self-restraint the chance to tempt capitulation once more tonight. Because as the bedroom door closed behind you with an ominous thud of finality...part of you already sensed this latest reunion would merely serve to finally unmake you both with blinding, rapturous certainty in ways neither of you had yet recovered from their last disastrous conclusion.

The sizzle of bacon grease popping in the pan punctuated the uneasy silence permeating your kitchen like a stifling fog. You kept your back turned towards the entryway, feigning focus on tending the eggs with studious concentration despite your rattled nerves.

Last night's heated confrontation replayed through your mind in lurid flashes, stoking embers of yearning and consternation alike. Because as much as rational thought might attempt to overwrite the visceral reality of having Kuroo's scorching adoration and unrestrained ache poured over you so reverently...your body betrayed deeper truths.

Ones where you desperately craved being laid utterly bare before him without defenses or hesitation once more.

The telltale shuffle of approaching footsteps across creaky hardwood sent your pulse skyrocketing anew. You braced yourself, drawing in a fortifying inhale and squaring your stance instinctively.

When you finally turned to face your guest, however, all the hasty pep talks fled your temporarily vacated lungs entirely.

Kuroo stood in tousled disarray just beyond the kitchen's threshold - collared shirt hanging open to reveal a broad swath of defined musculature you couldn't tear your gaze away from instantly. His dark locks stuck up at wild angles, countenance still bearing the rumpled vestiges of last night's heated imbibing and intimate tussle sprawled across the sofa.

Yet it was the open longing etched across his striking features that undid you most of all in that suspended heartbeat. The same rapturous adoration shone bright and undiminished behind each fractured inhale shared between your suspended forms once more.

"Hey pretty girl," he rasped out in that smoke-roughened timber that caressed over every inch of your overstimulated nerves exquisitely. "Missed being the first thing my eyes landed on every morning."

Your throat clicked with an audible swallow as Kuroo prowled further into the tiny kitchen space, relentless in his approach. Despite hours of anticipated reprieve between that delirious reunion and the cruel light of sobriety now bathing him fully...the slow burn of his molten need remained banked and simmering bright within those arresting tawny irises.

"Don't," you managed roughly in what you hoped was a tone of forbidding steel despite the tremor fracturing its foundations. "Just...stay right there, Tetsurou."

Kuroo's steady advance only faltered briefly at the command before resuming its measured pace anew. It was only when he drew within a few scant feet that you whirled away again, bracing both palms against the tiny kitchenette counter as if it could somehow serve as an impenetrable barricade.

"Pretty sure breakfast's about done by now," he commented idly - utterly unphased by your clear retreat and hostility. "Mind if I steal a—?"

"Get cleaned up already if you're actually intent on sticking around," you interrupted with more venom than intended, forcibly resuming your tasks to distract from the delicious masculine proximity now swamping your senses so thoroughly once more. "And once you're done gussying up that hungover mug of yours...I think it's high time you got the hell out of my place too while you're at it."

A tense silence followed your gritted demand - charged and pregnant with unspoken currents thrumming between your rigid frames with dizzying friction. Finally, after inhaling a weighted breath of his own, Kuroo spoke up once more in a low, tempered pitch that sliced through your defenses like a hot knife cleaving soft butter.

"You know I can't leave without us finishing this first, kitten..."

He was closer now - close enough for the wafting cedar wood and crisp spice of his cologne to swamp your heightened senses completely, robbing you of any lingering faculty for retreat entirely. You sensed Kuroo moving, circling around your flank with that same purposeful yet indolent prowl you'd witnessed stalk so many opponents down to utter devastation right before claiming rapturous victory over the years.

"I get that you're pissed...and hurt," he continued, rich cadence bleeding into your stuttering focus now. "Hell, maybe you even hate my guts a lil' still over how things crashed between us back then."

You flinched against another scorching glide of his presence alongside your left hip, blunted fingernails digging into the laminate counter until your knuckles went white as paper. Any second now Kuroo would come into your periphery properly...and then all remaining delusions about composure or propriety would officially fracture beyond repair completely.

"But looking around this place again so fresh..." Kuroo husked from somewhere over your shoulder, radiating magnetic want and bittersweet yearning in equal seismic waves. "All our old routines and reminders everywhere I look, baby...not much has really moved on despite those brave faces you put on, has it?"

You flinched again - utterly undone by his perceptive summation as those calloused fingertips came into view over your trembling fists. There Kuroo traced the outline of a vibrant yet faded kitchen towel emblazoned with a whimsical cartoon cat motif - one of his silly yet doting gifts from happier days.

Further over sat your favourite ceramic mug decorated with a cheeky slogan you'd laughed over countless mornings curled up against his bare chest enjoying the quiet tranquility before rushing off to classes or jobs. On the fridge hung a lurid assortment of old takeout menus, inside jokes scrawled beside favored recommendations in your half-forgotten couple shorthand.

"I still see the home we made together everywhere I look, precious girl," Kuroo confessed in a broken rasp tinged with wistful sincerity and bone-deep fatigue alike. "And I know you can't have forgotten what we we shared here either...no matter how badly you've tried moving past our trainwreck eventually."

Time seemed to fracture and blur around you as he spoke, memories and tantalizing glimpses of a life you'd both meticulously nurtured together over years of triumph and hardship seeping through the fragile cracks of your armor against his smoldering attentions once more.

It was true. No matter how resolutely you'd vowed to press onward from the messy conclusion you'd arrived at - some stubborn, sentimental part of your soul simply refused to lay down arms against the life you'd shared with this beautiful, maddening soul of a man completely.

Every tiny touchstone or embedded routine kept in defiance of your mutual separation served as a lighthouse beacon calling you both home despite the tempestuous waves still swallowing your wrecked ships in darkness.

Kuroo took a measured step forward, closing what little distance remained separating your pinned forms until you could feel the blistering heat radiating off his solid frame in delicious waves. Instinctively, you tensed - muscles coiled to resist or perhaps even lash out against the achingly familiar onslaught of temptation swamping your senses once more.

But just as you teetered on the brink of that momentary defiance...Kuroo continued slowly, inexorably crowding your personal space without restraint. You squeezed your eyes shut as his broad chest brushed against your shoulder blades, torn between surrendering and fleeing before that magnetic aura of dark rapture and ruinous lust could fully ensnare you within its dizzying, euphoric spirals yet again.

"Don't..." you managed to bite out weakly, barely above a trembling whisper. "Tetsu, please...you need to just go before we—"

"Before we what, baby?" Kuroo rumbled from just behind your ear, smokey cadence dripping scorching sin over your thrumming pulse points. "Before you finally give in and let yourself have a taste of what you've been so desperately craving since I walked back into your world, hm?"

You whimpered despite every last fraying thread of self-composure willing otherwise. Because Kuroo spoke nothing but blistering truth laced through each gruff vowel ghosting over the prickling hairs along your nape. Already, you could feel yourself wavering - rigid defenses steadily liquefying beneath the relentless onslaught of his virile presence and unbound desire laid achingly bare.

"Hush now..." Kuroo groaned when you managed a pitiful whine of protest, calloused knuckles skating up the undersides of your forearms until goosebumps erupted in their scorching wake. "I've got you, kitten...always did, even after we completely lost the plot for a while there."

He nuzzled his face into your mussed tresses then, inhaling deeply like a man starved for air before trailing open-mouthed kisses behind your ear and down the racing column of your throat. You trembled around a ragged inhale, eyelids fluttering as every nerve ending burst to searing life beneath his scorching brands of worship once more.

"There's my sweet girl..." Kuroo husked in rapturous delight, tongue darting out to taste the thundering pulse leaping desperately against your overheated skin. "Always so responsive, like your body just can't wait to invite me back in after raising those prickly defenses to drive us both crazy..."

You shuddered against him bodily, head lolling back in helpless surrender at the first electrifying graze of his stubbled jawline scoring a delicious path to better access the vulnerable dip of your clavicles. He growled low in pure masculine satisfaction at your visceral response, one large palm settling squarely over your abdomen in a molten possession that had your back arching wantonly against the solid wall of his bulk behind you.

"There she is..." Kuroo rumbled with evident approval, tongue swirling over the juncture of your neck and shoulder in searing figure-eights that undid you completely. "My sweet, gorgeous girl finally...so desperate for her man to take the lead again after stumbling around lost for too damn long..."

Low in your belly, a coiling ache began throbbing to life in tandem with each unhurried swipe of his searing mouth mapping every inch of you he could reach properly again. You rolled your hips back mindlessly, seeking friction against the rapidly hardening length already straining against the worn denim of his slacks as a low, needy moan punched free.

"You don't have to say a word, baby..." Kuroo snarled with possession lacing every word, stubble rasping deliciously against your bared throat. "Know you better than anyone in this world...the way your pretty lil' cunt gets so fucking soaked just from me pinning you with this hungry look, yeah?"

Your vision whited out momentarily at the filthy endearment, body going utterly liquid against the brutal intensity now pinning you in sublime rapture. Because Kuroo was right - always had the uncanny knack for reading your every non-verbal cue and unspoken need like a savant. Just like he seemed to understand you were already a hairsbreadth from shattering apart into blind surrender without reservation once again now...

So when Kuroo growled out another guttural noise of relentless possession, turned you around and seized your jaw firmly to angle your slack mouth towards his waiting hunger...the only response that tore free was a broken, keening whimper of joyous capitulation at last.

He swallowed down the sound greedily, tongue sweeping between your parted lips in a searing glide of satin and sin that punched the air from your trembling lungs entirely. Each slick swipe of his probing velvet strokes branded you anew - searing unspoken promises of ruinous devotion deep within your marrow as you arched and whined mindlessly into the glorious collapse.

Because this was always your undoing in the end - slipping fully into Tetsurou's unraveling thrall against your feeble will and giving him every scrap of your surrender to claim and mould as he saw rapturous fit. Your hands roamed his rippling musculature with frantic greed, desperately seeking every hard ridge and flexing hollow as if mapping the sacred geography of his form by touch alone could fully unearth your eternal salvation there.

Only when Kuroo finally tore away from your swollen mouth on a sawing inhale did your scattered focus manage to drag its way back into sluggish coherence. He stared down at you utterly wrecked and ravaged already in his ruinous embrace - raw adoration and transcendent hunger searing through his intense tawny gaze that robbed you of breath anew in an instant.

"So perfect..." Kuroo rasped out in a tone laced with rapturous wonder and naked reverence both. "My sweet girl...my beautiful kitten...letting me touch her like this again, after the stupid shit I've put her through lately..."

He cradled your slack jaw with earth-scorching tenderness, leaning in until your laboured breaths intermingled deliriously between trembling lips. You could only gaze up at him dazedly, already utterly undone in the best way yet once more by the soul-sundering truths radiating from every blazing syllable dripping from his wicked mouth.

"Still the only home that's ever mattered, kitten," Kuroo confessed hoarsely, tilting your faces together until your noses brushed in an intimate nuzzle that made your eyes flutter shut rapturously. "No matter how many times I lose my way..."

With a trembling inhale, Kuroo sealed his confession with a soft, lingering kiss that set every nerve ending alight with delirious heat and aching need anew. He cradled the back of your skull tenderly, guiding you into the perfect angle to savour the slow, intoxicating glide of his velvet mouth over yours until you could no longer tell where his essence ended and your own began.

Only when the last scraps of rationality threatened to flee your addled brain entirely did you break the seal with a shuddering gasp. Kuroo's lips curved against yours in a satisfied smirk, nipping at your swollen lower lip in playful chastisement before pulling away entirely.

You whimpered, chasing his addictive warmth on instinct - utterly bereft without his consuming heat pressed fully against you once more. But as his grip slid from the base of your skull to clasp around the delicate column of your throat in a steely brand of possession, that familiar rush of dark rapture and intoxicating submission swept back in an instant.

"Let me take care of my pretty kitten, hm?" Kuroo husked against your parted lips, thumb stroking down the rapid flutter of your pulse beating wildly against his restraining grasp. "Need to spoil my good girl after making such a mess of her these last few weeks..."

"Tetsu..." you whimpered, hips rolling in mindless abandon now as he traced the pad of his thumb over your pouting mouth teasingly. "Fuck, just...please..."

A low chuckle reverberated against your over-sensitive flesh, his other hand gliding down the planes of your shuddering abdomen with tantalizing indolence. The calloused pads of his fingers stroked a lazy, circuitous path across every quivering plane and dip before finally dipping between your spread thighs.

The first tentative graze of his dexterous digits against your soaked panties had you jerking helplessly against the iron bands of his restraining hold. You keened aloud, nails biting into the taut bulges of his biceps as Kuroo traced a featherlight path down the soaked slit, pausing to circle your engorged clit agonizingly slowly.

"Look at my pretty girl..." Kuroo groaned low in his throat, tawny eyes blazing with ravenous intent as he watched your lashes flutter and hips grind desperately against his teasing strokes. "Already soaked straight through this lil' thing for me...just aching for me to tear them off and bury myself in this tight cunt, aren't you?"

You sobbed openly at his taunting words, head lolling back helplessly. Because even as his fingers dipped beneath the clinging fabric to tease your dripping core properly, he never applied the slightest pressure or friction where you needed it most. Instead, Kuroo drew his soaked digits out to circle your neglected bundle of nerves in lazy circles, relishing the way you bucked and mewled mindlessly for more.

"Please," you finally broke and begged, unable to endure the slow-building torment any longer. "Tetsurou...baby, I can't...fuck, need you so badly, love...please..."

That seemed to finally undo the last threads of Kuroo's own tenuous composure, because in the next moment, he had you pinned against the kitchen counter once more. He captured your open, pleading mouth in another ravenous kiss, tongue spearing past your gasping lips in time with two thick fingers plunging into your clenching walls without mercy.

You cried out against his devouring mouth, hips canting to welcome the exquisite stretch as he immediately sought outyour most sensitive spot with devastating precision. His thumb worked feverish circles over your swollen clit, each merciless thrust and scissor of his wicked digits coiling the building pleasure tighter and tighter deep within.

Kuroo tore his mouth away from yours, panting harshly as he continued pistoning those talented fingers into your drenched core with unrelenting rhythm. The molten tawny pools of his darkened gaze roved over your disheveled, wanton form, taking in every blissful grimace and desperate whine you gave with evident male satisfaction.

"Always so responsive," Kuroo praised with a growl, grinding the heel of his palm against your clit as he worked a third finger into your greedy core. "So fucking sexy like this...can't believe I was dumb enough to leave you hanging these last few months, baby..."

You whimpered, eyelids fluttering as those sinfully long fingers continued pistoning in and out of your soaked depths, stretching and filling you to perfection. Kuroo chuckled darkly, curling his fingertips up against your spasming walls in a come-hither gesture that had you crying out hoarsely as sparks ignited along every nerve ending.

"But don't worry, kitten..." Kuroo leaned in until his lips were grazing your flushed earlobe, nipping at the sensitive flesh as you keened helplessly against him. "I'm gonna fuck all those nasty memories of those lonely nights right outta your tight cunt tonight, baby...promise."

Your entire body shuddered, a choked sob breaking free as Kuroo's scorching words and skilled touch sent you spiralling towards the edge of release without mercy. The delicious coil of pressure wound impossibly tighter as he worked those thick digits in and out of you, relentless and perfect, while his thumb continued circling and teasing your pulsing clit without pause.

"Come for me, kitten..." Kuroo urged hoarsely, tongue flicking over your earlobe before his teeth bit down possessively. "Want to feel your pretty cunt gushing all over my fingers, baby...gonna watch my pretty girl make a mess of herself just from this..."

And then, without warning, he curled his fingers up against that bundle of nerves tucked deep inside, thumb circling your engorged clit and drawing you closer and closer to that precipice. The dam finally burst, shattering the last restraints holding you captive beneath the weight of his intoxicating rapture.

You were keenly aware of the obscenely strong gush of fluids coating Kuroo's knuckles as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of your throbbing core, the slick sounds of your juices echoing loudly through the kitchen. His groans of masculine approval and praise washed over you like a soothing balm, lulling you back down from the high with every tender stroke and husked syllable.

Kuroo eased his digits from your spent body gently, leaning in to nuzzle and kiss at your slack jaw as the aftershocks continued wracking your trembling form. Your limbs were a deadweight at your sides, muscles still twitching and shuddering around the delicious burn of your release as you floated through the haze.

"So good for me, kitten," Kuroo husked against your temple, gathering you into his solid frame tenderly. "So goddamn perfect, baby...I can't believe I've gone without this sweet cunt around my cock for months, huh..."

You shuddered, instinctively wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as he hitched you up to sit on the countertop. Kuroo stepped between the V of your spread thighs, calloused palms stroking up and down your exposed flesh soothingly as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

"Missed you so fucking much," Kuroo admitted quietly, breath fanning over the sensitive juncture of your shoulder. "Not just like this, baby...missed everything about you, all the time. It's been killing me, kitten..."

You hummed softly, pressing a featherlight kiss to the crown of his mussed raven locks before leaning your cheek atop the silky strands. The last lingering threads of resentment and bitter disappointment faded away in the warm cocoon of his embrace, leaving behind the familiar sense of comfort and ease you'd only ever felt in his arms.

"Me too, Tetsurou..." you admitted on a sigh, stroking your hands down his broad back soothingly. "I missed you too, baby...but we're here now, right? That's all that matters."

Kuroo shuddered against you, pulling back just far enough to gaze down at your upturned face with burning intensity. In his smouldering tawny gaze, you saw the same unspoken promises and eternal devotion that had been laid bare in your soul for far longer than you cared to admit.

And then, Kuroo was surging forward and claiming your lips in a kiss so fierce, you could almost swear you could feel your bruised heart beating a tattoo in his own chest once more. His hands tangled in your hair, tugging on the messy strands just the way you liked to tip your face back for better access.

You moaned openly, arching into his scorching form and giving him anything and everything he demanded in the wake of that all-consuming kiss. Your own hands clutched at his shoulders, kneading and stroking the firm contours as if you could somehow drag him closer, deeper, and fuse him to your very being completely.

Kuroo growled low in his throat, wrenching himself away from the kiss just far enough to mutter a single command. "Lift your hips up for me, baby...gotta get this cute ass naked for me, okay?"

You whimpered, nodding dumbly as he reached for the waistband of your dampened underwear and tugged it down your shaking thighs. Kuroo peeled the garment off completely, tossing it aside before sliding his palms up the length of your calves.

When his calloused grip reached the crease of your thighs, he yanked you towards the edge of the counter, prompting a surprised squeal to slip free as your balance shifted precariously. Kuroo only laughed, the sound boyish and carefree as he wrapped one arm around your waist and dragged his stubbled jaw against your collarbones in a playful rasp.

"Don't worry, baby...gotcha," Kuroo assured, the heat of his breath fanning over the exposed swell of your breasts. "Gonna take such good care of you, kitten...gonna fuck you nice and slow, the way my good girl deserves, yeah?"

You keened aloud, fingers carding through the messy strands at the nape of his neck as Kuroo began mouthing his way down the valley of your breasts. He traced the curve of each mound reverently with his wicked tongue, laving and suckling until you were a trembling, moaning wreck beneath his worshipful attentions.

When Kuroo's lips closed around the sensitive bud, you cried out, arching into the hot, wet cavern as he suckled greedily. His teeth grazed the hardened peak with the barest edge of pain, and you hissed, grinding down against the growing bulge pressing insistently against your aching core.

Kuroo groaned, releasing the swollen nipple with a wet pop and leaning his forehead against the valley between your breasts. His breaths came in harsh pants, the muscles in his back rippling and flexing beneath your questing fingertips as you clung to his broad shoulders for dear life.

"Fuck," he swore on a ragged exhale, nuzzling the sweat-dampened skin as his hands slid down the dip of your waist and over the curve of your ass. "You're driving me fucking crazy, kitten...keep trying to go slow, be all gentle and sweet like you deserve...but all I can think about is slamming this cute ass down on my cock and fucking you until you scream my name loud enough for the neighbours to hear, baby..."

The filthy confession punched the air from your lungs entirely, and you were suddenly acutely aware of how much you needed that too. Needed the hard, relentless stretch of his girth bottoming out inside your quivering walls until the only thing you could remember was his name.

"Yes," you begged brokenly, tugging his raven locks hard enough to tilt his head back and seal your plea with a filthy kiss. "Please, Tetsu...just want to feel you, baby. Need it so bad..."

Kuroo swore again, biting at your swollen lower lip and sucking it into his mouth as his hands kneaded the flesh of your ass with bruising force. He pulled away just far enough to rest his forehead against yours, sharing a shuddering breath as his hand fumbled blindly at the button and zipper of his jeans.

"Fuck, hold on," he muttered, tearing away entirely.

You blinked hazily, watching as Kuroo shucked his jeans and boxers down his lean hips and off his legs entirely. His swollen length bobbed heavily between his legs, flushed a dark crimson and already leaking copiously at the swollen tip.

He palmed the thick base with one hand, giving himself a few long, hard strokes from root to tip and swiping his thumb through the pearlescent bead welling at the slit. Your tongue darted out to moisten your suddenly dry lips, entranced by the sight of him pleasuring himself before you.

It was an achingly familiar and yet strangely erotic scene, and the thought that you were both still so eager and needy after all this time was equal parts humbling and exhilarating.

Kuroo groaned, tawny eyes blazing as he took in your dazed expression and parted lips with obvious male pride. He stroked his free hand up the planes of your inner thigh, teasing his thumb through your soaked folds and tracing the glistening path back to your swollen clit.

Your breath caught, fingers scrabbling against the smooth countertop for purchase as he rubbed lazy circles against the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips jerked helplessly, torn between chasing the addictive friction of his dexterous touch and the growing emptiness between your trembling thighs.

"Tetsurou," you whimpered, eyes fluttering as he teased your sensitive flesh with expert precision. "Tetsu, please..."

Kuroo chuckled, stepping between your thighs and hitching you closer to the edge of the counter in a single, fluid motion. He gripped the base of his cock, nudging the flared tip against your dripping core and dragging the velvety length through the gathered slickness.

You moaned, canting your hips forward instinctively as one hand reached for his shoulder while the other clung to the edge of the counter. But just as the swollen tip breached your quivering walls, he retreated once more.

"Tetsurou," you hissed, glaring up at the smug bastard.

Kuroo's lips twitched, eyes glimmering with unbridled mischief as he repeated the slow, torturous drag of his cockhead against your slit. His other hand snaked up the length of your torso, teasing the soft underside of your breast before plucking at the swollen nipple once more.

"What's the matter, baby?" he taunted, tweaking the sensitive peak with a little more force this time. "I thought my kitten liked it when I played with her, hm? Or does my greedy girl just want my cock instead?"

You scowled, the flush on your cheeks deepening at his shameless words. But even as your mind scrambled for some clever retort, his deft fingers continued toying with the tight bud. The sudden surge of pleasure left your thoughts scattered, and all you could do was keen in a desperate bid for more.

"Hmm? Does she?" Kuroo prompted, slipping the chubby tip into the searing wet heat of your cunt just far enough for your greedy walls to clench around the intrusion. "C'mon, baby...use those pretty words for me and ask nicely..."

"Fuck, please!" you finally sobbed, nails digging into his shoulder blades. "Please, Tetsu, want you so fucking badly...please, baby, need your cock, need you to fill me up...please..."

Your rambling pleas seemed to satisfy him at last, and with a guttural groan, Kuroo finally slid home with a single, powerful thrust. Your back arched, a silent scream parting your lips as his cock split you open without mercy.

It burned, stretched you impossibly wide, but the sensation was exactly what you'd needed. You felt the exquisite ache all the way to your bones, every nerve ending lighting up in response to the deliciously familiar fullness.

Kuroo's breath was hot and unsteady against the sweat-dampened skin of your neck, his broad shoulders quaking beneath the white-knuckled grip of your fingers. The taut lines of his body were coiled tight, and you knew he was hanging on by a thread.

"F-fuck, kitten," he panted against your neck, nose skimming along the curve of your jaw. "Always feel like the first fucking time with you...so fucking tight and wet, baby...god, you're perfect..."

You keened softly, rolling your hips down onto his cock to urge him on. Kuroo took the hint, slowly dragging his cock out until the flared tip was just barely kissing your clenching entrance. And then, without warning, he slammed back home, the punishing snap of his hips rocking your entire body forward and punching a breathless cry from your lungs.

Kuroo didn't give you a moment to recover, setting a steady rhythm that soon had your vision blurring around the edges. His hips pistoned forward, spearing his cock deep into your fluttering walls with every thrust. The obscene sounds of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the kitchen, joined by the filthy squelch of his cock pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.

You were lost to the sensations, reduced to a moaning, writhing mess as his swollen cock continued pounding into you with ruthless force. There was no space between your bodies, no way for you to move or grind down against the delicious friction except for the unrelenting pace of his thrusts.

"Such a good girl," Kuroo praised against your temple, the words slightly slurred as he chased his own release. "Taking my cock so well, baby...such a good, pretty kitten...love the way your sweet pussy feels around my cock, kitten..."

A ragged moan tore from your throat, head falling back against the cool wall as your walls began to spasm around his shaft. The telltale pressure coiled tighter, the delicious drag of his cock along the sensitive walls of your cunt building the pleasure to dizzying heights.

Kuroo seemed to sense your impending release, one arm hooking beneath your knee to hike your leg higher as his thrusts picked up speed. The angle allowed him to delve deeper, and your jaw went slack as a strangled moan was punched from your chest.

"Come on, baby," Kuroo urged, voice hoarse and strained. "That's it, kitten...let go for me, sweetheart...wanna feel that cute cunt squeezing the fuck outta my cock, yeah?"

You sobbed, fingers scrambling against the firm lines of his back as the tension finally snapped, sending you tumbling over the edge. Your body seized, a silent scream parting your lips as he continued pounding into your quivering cunt without mercy.

Dimly, you registered the guttural groan of his own release and the searing heat of his release flooding your fluttering walls. You whimpered, clinging to him with what little strength you had left as the aftershocks of your climax continued to wash over you.

Kuroo held you close, stroking one hand down the curve of your spine soothingly and dropping featherlight kisses along the side of your face. He murmured quiet praises against your flushed skin, lips skimming the shell of your ear and down the curve of your jaw.

Slowly, your senses returned, and the hazy euphoria ebbed away enough for the aches in your body to register. The tender flesh between your thighs throbbed, muscles twitching and shuddering around the spent intrusion buried within your sensitive core.

Kuroo pressed one final lingering kiss to the corner of your lips, nuzzling the damp strands of hair plastered to your temple as he gently lowered your leg back to the countertop. You sighed softly, relishing the comforting weight of his body as he pressed closer.

"Still with me, kitten?" Kuroo prompted, breath warm against your cheek.

You nodded dumbly, forcing your heavy eyelids open to meet his heated gaze. Kuroo chuckled softly, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in a fleeting caress before carefully easing his softened cock from your spent core.

A weak whine slipped free at the loss, but you bit down on your lip to silence the embarrassing sound as Kuroo helped you down from the countertop. Your legs felt like jelly, and you swayed precariously for a moment before he scooped you into his strong arms and carried you across the kitchen.

"So," he started casually, carrying you into the bathroom and kicking the door shut behind him. "Does this mean I’m your boyfriend again, kitten?"

You snorted, wrapping your arms around his neck as he set you down beside the bathtub. "What, you didn't get that memo when I was literally begging you to put a baby in me, Tetsurou?" you retorted, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Well, no," he admitted with a wry grin. "I was a little too focused on the whole 'putting a baby in you' part of that deal to really focus on the semantics."

You rolled your eyes, tugging on his arm to join you in the tub. He laughed, climbing in behind you and tugging you into his chest. "Okay, fine, you big idiot. Guess I’m stuck with you."

Kuroo smirked, leaning forward to capture your lips in a deep, languid kiss. "I think I can live with that, kitten."

[littlelamy]

Reader request with Rafe. Maybe she breaks down sobbing in the middle of sex and he has no idea why, thinking he hurt her. Her reasons aren’t bad. As someone that has only been with one person personally, and he was such a selfish uncaring lover, I legit think I would start sobbing in bed if someone was loving and caring towards me and treating me like the most precious thing. Love your writing <3

a/n: thank you so much for requesting...hope you like it!!⭐️

the room was drenched in golden light, the low hum of the bedside lamp the only sound as rafe’s hands roamed your body. his palms were warm against your skin, calloused but soft in their touch, tracing a path down your sides like he was discovering you for the first time. his lips followed, pressing kisses that started at your neck and trailed lower, his breath hot and deliberate.

“you okay?” he murmured, the deep rasp of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. his fingers hooked under the hem of your shirt, brushing the bare skin of your stomach as he paused to look at you.

your lips parted, and though you nodded, the tightness in your throat betrayed you. “yeah,” you whispered. “i’m okay.”

rafe studied your face, his brow furrowing slightly before he leaned down to kiss you again. it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, but slow, sensual, the kind of kiss that set your skin alight. his tongue slid against yours, coaxing a soft moan from your lips as his hand moved lower, slipping between your legs.

“god, you’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire. his fingers stroked you gently, building heat that spread through your entire body, but there was nothing hurried about the way he moved. "my baby, so perfect." he almost purred, everything about him was deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of this—every second of you.

you arched into his touch, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he pressed his body closer to yours. his hips rocked against you, his movements careful but firm, and the pressure sent sparks of pleasure through your veins.

but that was the moment it all became too much.

your chest tightened, your breath hitching as the weight of everything crashed down at once. the tenderness, the patience, the care—it was everything you’d never known, everything you thought you didn’t deserve. and suddenly, the tears came.

a sob tore from your throat, raw and unbidden, cutting through the heated silence like a knife.

rafe froze instantly, his body going rigid above you as his eyes snapped to your face. “y/n?” his voice was sharp with concern, his hands pulling back like he was afraid he’d hurt you. “what—did i—did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, tears spilling freely now as you pressed a trembling hand to your face. “no,” you managed, your voice cracking. “no, you didn’t hurt me. i’m sorry, i—”

“hey, hey,” he interrupted, his hands hovering near your arms but not quite touching. his voice softened, though there was still a note of panic in it. “don’t apologize. just tell me what’s wrong. did i do something? did i push too far?”

you shook your head again, harder this time, your tears soaking into the pillow beneath you. “no, rafe. it’s not you. it’s… it’s me.”

his brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face as he searched your eyes for answers. “what do you mean? you’re crying, baby. i don’t know what to do.”

the raw vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you. you forced yourself to take a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you reached up to touch his face. “i’m crying because you’re too good to me,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. “what?”

“you’re too good to me,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve only ever been with one person before, and he… he didn’t care about me. not really. it was always about him—what he wanted, what he could take. i got used to that, and now… now you’re here, and you’re so kind and patient, and i don’t know how to handle it.”

his expression shifted then, his confusion melting into something softer, though there was an edge of anger in his jaw—anger directed not at you but at the person who had made you feel this way.

“y/n,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “that guy? he didn’t deserve you. not for a second. and i don’t care how long it takes, i’ll spend every moment proving to you that you’re worth everything. do you hear me?”

tears spilled down your cheeks again, but this time they weren’t born of pain. his words wrapped around you like a balm, soothing wounds you hadn’t realized were still bleeding.

“i don’t want to scare you off,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“scare me off?” rafe repeated, his tone incredulous. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “y/n, you couldn’t scare me off if you tried. i just… i want you to feel safe with me. always.”

“i do,” you said quickly, your voice breaking with urgency. “i do feel safe. that’s why i’m crying, rafe. because i’ve never felt this before. no one’s ever… treated me like this before.”

his lips pressed to your forehead, lingering there as he exhaled deeply. “then we’ll go slow,” he murmured against your skin. “as slow as you need. or we can stop altogether. whatever you want, baby.”

“no,” you said firmly, your hands curling around his wrists to keep him close. “i don’t want to stop. i just… needed to tell you. needed you to know why i’m like this.”

his eyes searched yours for a long moment before he nodded, his lips curving into the softest smile. “okay,” he said simply. “but promise me, if you ever need to stop, you’ll tell me. no matter what.”

“i promise,” you whispered, your voice steadier now.

he kissed you again, but this time it was different. there was still care in the way his lips moved against yours, but now there was something deeper, something hungrier. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his hips rolled forward, the friction sending a gasp spilling from your lips.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his breath warm against your neck as he pressed wet kisses to your skin. his body moved against yours in slow, deliberate thrusts, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough.

and this time, you let yourself feel it. you let yourself drown in the way he touched you, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. because for the first time in a long time, you believed that maybe—just maybe—you were.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[nickfowlerrr]

it's nice to have a friend

pairing: stucky x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff. tinge of angst. longing. mutual pining. no smut but all my works are considered 18+ only regardless.

words: 1.7k

notes: loosely based off this prompt: platonic forehead kisses starting to give u the feels. LIKE ITS SOMETHING MAGICAL. i'm currently pmsing and work killed me so i was only able to get to this drabble done today. hoping to do the bucky request tomorrow! <3 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. comments and feedback are always welcome and so appreciated!

“I’m fine, Steve,” you laugh as you try to swat his hand away.

You still as he catches it in his instead, pulling it down and holding it as he runs his thumb over your hand. You watch him as he keeps his gaze down, tracking his own movements and appearing deep in thought.

It’s soft and silent in the dim light of the kitchen, a little past midnight, seemingly only you and him awake at this hour.

You’d gotten back from your mission just a few hours ago and Steve had been your shadow from the tarmac up until you were cleared by Dr. Cho and could head to living quarters.

You had a small gash on your forehead and some bruised knuckles but really you felt fine. Kate and Peter weren’t as unscathed as you and Clint but all in all, the mission was a success. And truly, there was nothing for anyone, especially not Steve, to be worried about.

You and Steve were close, close enough that you considered him to be one of your best friends here at the tower, but despite that, you still had no idea why he was so concerned about you tonight.

He’d been worrying over you since you’d stepped foot off the jet. Not outright, but you could tell he was following you because he wanted to keep an eye on you. You finally convinced him you were good, or so you’d thought, and had some time to yourself as you showered and got ready for bed. When you came out to grab something to eat before letting sleep finally take you for the night, that was when you’d found him sitting in the kitchen.

Only the dimmer was on as he sat at the counter sketching something in his notebook. He noticed your presence right away and got up from his seat to meet you at the cabinet you were at.

He’d instantly went for the mug he knew you were going to reach for and handed it to you as you watched him, having relaxed with your backside against the counter when he came over.

You’d caught yourself admiring him as he got you your mug but you tried to quickly shut those thoughts down and instead focused on just how lucky you were to call Steve a friend. His concern wasn’t necessary, but it was nice to know he cared.

You took the mug from him and when you set it down on the counter, he once again tried to fuss over the small gash that would likely leave a little physical memory of the mission. Not that you minded all that much.

You tried to brush his hand away but he caught yours and kept hold of it as you let him.

As Steve continued to stroke his thumb over your soft, sensitive skin, you couldn’t help but notice the crease in his brows and the tightness of his jaw as he rubbed gently at the bruises.

You couldn’t imagine this was all because of you, but something was obviously up.

“Steve,” you spoke softly, waiting for him to look at you once more.

His bright blue eyes met yours and the worry you found in them had you sighing.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you gently squeezed his hand. “And don’t say nothing. I think I know you well enough to know that something is, so spill.”

He smiled halfheartedly at you, an almost pained look in his eye before he shook his head.

He lifted your hand to his lips and placed a delicate kiss to your knuckles before he let go. You thought your heart might just stop beating entirely at the action as your breathing stilled unbidden.

You watched him as he took a small step back from you. The look in his eye wasn’t one you could name now but it had your stomach twisting..in a good way.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said as he took you in with his eyes.

Your brows furrowed lightly before you gave a small smile. That was far from the whole answer and you knew it, but you wouldn’t press him on it right now.

“I hadn’t realized how late it was,” he continued when he glanced over at the time on the stove. “I should probably get some sleep. And you should, too,” he said turning his head back to face you and fixing you with a look you could only laugh at.

“Will do, Captain,” you chuckled lightly with a nod. “Soon as I find something to eat.”

“I think Bucky has leftover pizza in the fridge if you want,” he offered.

You scoffed and your eyes narrowed at him, “Do you want me dead?” you asked in faux incredulity, earning a soft laugh in return.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he smirked. “Besides, if he knows it was you, I don’t think he’d mind.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as you pushed off the counter to head to the fridge.

Before you got there, though, you were stopped as Steve’s arms wrapped around you in a hug. You found yourself pressed right against his chest and though it took you a second to register what was happening, you soon returned his embrace and relaxed into him. God, he was so warm. And he smelled so nice. You had to stop yourself from nuzzling into him and making a complete fool of yourself. His hold was so comforting, you quickly found yourself lost in it.

So much so, you almost didn’t register when Steve placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Almost.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the contact as your arms reactively squeezed him tighter and you pressed yourself closer to him.

It wasn’t the first time he’d given you a forehead kiss but this time felt different. It made you feel different. Like you were in a dream. It was soft and comforting but it also had butterflies coming to life in your stomach and had your body alight in delight.

But it was over before you knew it and Steve pulled away from you with a soft, “Goodnight.”

His touch lingered on your arm though before he dropped his hand completely and smiled at you once more.

“Night,” you whispered back before you watched him go, grabbing his notebook on his way back to his room.

You absentmindedly wrapped your arms around yourself as you were already missing the feeling of his touch.

That was different. That was very different.

The light flicked on behind you and you spun around coming face to face with the only other person you'd really looked forward to seeing upon your return.

His boyish grin only added to the butterflies already causing ruckus in your tummy.

"There you are," he smiled, "I was looking for you."

Not another word was said before you found yourself wrapped up in Bucky's arms.

God, he was so warm. And he smelled so good.

Thankfully he pulled away before you could embarrass yourself by unleashing the purr that threatened to tumble past your lips as his hands rubbed at the knots in your back soothingly.

"You okay?" he asked, concern lacing his tone as he studied your face, eyes fixating on the cut blemishing your forehead once he assured himself the rest of you was alright.

"Fine," you smiled.

He nodded, "Good."

You got lost in his gaze as you stared at one another for a long while, just your quiet breaths could be heard in the otherwise silence of the kitchen.

You didn't even realize you were holding his hands until he squeezed yours ever so slightly.

"'M glad you're back," he simpered.

"Me too," you returned.

"You hungry?" he asked. "I have some pizza in the fridge if you want," he offered.

You almost laughed remembering Steve's words earlier. "That sounds really good, actually," you nodded, smiling, "thanks."

You watched as Bucky got out the cold pizza and warmed it up for you as you admired his form. When you caught yourself, you wondered how he hadn't felt your gaze heavy on his back. You were mesmerized by his muscles as they flexed with his movements.

God, you fretted to yourself.

You didn't know what to do.. You didn't know how much longer you could keep telling yourself these feelings you were feeling for Steve and Bucky were nothing.. how much longer you could deny that with each day that passed you found yourself falling harder and harder for the two supersoldiers.

Little did you know, they were both already head over heels for you.

They promised each other they'd wait as long as they had to until you brought it up yourself, they didn't want you to feel any pressure whatsoever, even if that meant you never brought it up. They'd keep their distance, not crossing the line of friendship until they were sure you wanted to. But nights like this, when you've been gone for as long as you had been, or worse when you'd come back hurt, no matter how trivial the injury was, they couldn't stay only arm's length.

To avoid overcrowding you upon your return, they'd agreed to come to you one on one. Had Bucky seen the glint of disappointment in your eyes when Steve told you he was preoccupied upon your return, he would've been a total loss. Would've come right up to you and sworn to make his absence up to you, whatever it'd take.

Hell, they'd both been waiting impatiently all day to see you and Bucky only begrudgingly sat out from greeting you on the tarmac because Steve won the coin toss.

As he plated your pizza, the pizza he had secretly saved for you, he smiled to himself as he felt your eyes glued to him.

He liked the feeling.

Steve wasn't so sure you'd ever see them as anything more than friends to you, but Bucky thought otherwise. He knew otherwise. He felt it in your gaze, in your playful hits and nudges when you’d joke together, in the warmth of your hugs... He knew it was gonna happen. And each day that passed, he only grew more sure.

He couldn't wait until the day you were all on the same page, all your cards on the table, finally the three of you together. No more coin tosses, no more taking turns checking on you after missions, no more three second hugs (though he never really stuck to that rule all too much), no more lingering forehead kisses that he desperately wished would turn into more...

He couldn't wait. But he would. For you, they'd wait forever.

[mapofthesea]

producers!yoonmin x assistant!reader, fem!reader, bi!yoonmin

genre: smut with some plot, slight fluff

summary: There’s no telling just how long you'd been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain

warnings: swearing, slight arguing/playful name calling, mentions of alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, dom!yoonmin x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don’t do it), they're kind of in a situationship, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), masturbation, hair pulling, degradation, praise, spanking, choking, penetrative sex, some mxm, cum eating, big dick behavior and practice from both of them, hinting at feelings

a/n: this is mature content so if you are under 18 years old or uncomfortable with this, please do not go below the cut! I also do not proofread of edit my work so there may be some typos, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

When you’d first been hired, the request came through your temp agency, and you knew nothing other than the address before you showed up. By then you were no stranger to the life of an assistant; you had fallen into the line of work after failing to find a job in your field. The first few temp jobs were exactly what you expected. Fielding phone calls and delivering coffee to big wigs in uncomfortable, cheap dress clothes became your new normal for several months, so when you arrived at the gray office building you figured you knew what you were in for. 

Yoongi and Jimin proved to be nothing like your previous employers, and their charmingly personable attitudes made them unbelievably easy to work for. At the end of your week as their temp, you had pouted and delayed your departure by attempting to tidy up their shared studio. 

“You’re not a maid, you don’t have to do that.” Yoongi cooly remarked. Even with his ears sticking out endearingly from the sides of his beanie, his dark gaze made you freeze. 

“I-I know, I just- sorry.” You withered under his attention, shifting from foot to foot as you waited for the anxiety to pass. “I’ll go. Bye Yoongi, it’s been super nice working for you guys.” 

You kicked yourself as the wave of disappointment saturated your words. Yoongi hadn’t done anything wrong, and there was no reason to unload your sadness on him. 

“What? I thought they told you?” Yoongi chirped. “We hired you. I expect you to be back tomorrow.” An unbidden smile cracked your face and you couldn't help but notice Yoongi had mirrored it. 

“Oh, oh! Um, see you tomorrow then.” Your heart thumped embarrassingly fast as you skittered out of the office, only seeing the email full of praise from them once you were tucked into the comfort of your bed.

---

“Remember when you used to be nice to me?” You hiss at the man who had just fully sat on your shins, uncaring that you squirm under him. Jimin rolls his eyes at your remark and stays where he is until you snake your legs out from under him. 

“I am nice to you. I pay you.” Jimin coos and pulls your legs into his lap, his familiar touch skittering over your bare calves. After being their one and only assistant for a year and half, your working hours have become more muddled. Business often mixed with friendship, and the lines of professionalism had officially blurred to a proportion you never expected. 

“We also buy you food,” Yoongi cooly adds, plopping himself in the chair across from the two of you and sweeping his hand toward the boxes of empty takeout that dotted the coffee table. A microphone and mixing board live among the mess. You sigh listlessly. They had been working on this new song for hours, tossing ideas back and forth, and although they all sounded wonderful to you, neither of them were happy with anything. 

“Can I go home?” You drawl, feeling the strain of laying on the couch in the way your neck cricks and radiates a sharp headache. You subconsciously rub your fingers into the tightness at the base of your neck. 

“No,” Jimin answers immediately. You sit up straight on the couch and rip your legs from his lap. 

“Why?” It comes out whiny but you’re too tired to care, still rubbing at the knot in your neck. “Yoongi?” For a second you have hope he’ll let you go but he shakes his head, dark wavy strands slipping over his eyes. 

“Sorry, need you here.”

You sputter, disbelief making your eyes go wide. “Okay...can I at least go get you some coffee? More food? Or something?” Sitting in the darkened studio for so long with no definable task was making you feel a bit stir crazy. You had cycled through all of the games on your phone and been scolded for spending too much time on TikTok. Even the book you kept stashed in the bottom of your tote bag was only able to occupy you for so long. 

Yoongi shrugs, half of a grin on his lips. “Dunno. You have an untrained ear, slightly less bias, maybe you’ll add something to the process...” he trails, sinfully pink tongue slipping out between his lips. “You’ve also got potential as a muse.” 

God. It’s painfully cliche but it makes your heart stop and your thighs clench. Suddenly you feel too hot in your shorts and sweatshirt. Jimin tuts. 

“Potential.” He makes a half hearted jab, knowing all three of you are lingering on the same string of memories from just a couple of weeks before. You push the thoughts away and find a spot back on the couch, suddenly conscious of how close you sit to Jimin on the small couch.

He shuffles just close enough that your knees touch in a reassuring way that sends cascading warmth down your spine. Your face is surely flushed but you do your best to pretend you’re unfazed, picking at the skin around your cuticles as Yoongi fiddles with the soundboard.

“Again.” Jimin’s foot taps into the plush carpet in time to the music, and you know you’re in for a long night.

The track runs on a seemingly unending loop, only punctuated by your bosses bickering about technical intricacies and which word choices would serve the song better.

Yoongi fiddles with a new beat and you whine, sagging into Jimin’s side. He welcomes you into him and the intoxicating scent of his cologne has your eyes fluttering. His jaw ticks and you have to bite back the groan of desire as you watch his muscles clench and unclench as he concentrates, fingertips tapping the new rhythm in time against the top of your thigh.

For a moment you wish you were drinking; dumbly wanting to feign needing help opening the soju bottle just to hear Jimin’s little coos of how delicate you are, to have Yoongi gently take back your hair to see your flushed face when he thinks you’ve had too much to drink. Your saliva suddenly feels too thick and your head spins with the barrage of lustful thought. Jimin’s hand feels as hot as lava on your thigh and the sight of Yoongi’s finger circling one of the little knobs with deft precision makes your stomach tumble. 

“I-are you guys hot?” Your voice is raspy as you spring up from the couch, resisting the urge to fan yourself with your hands. Embarrassingly, they both shake their heads and you catch sight of the thermostat set clearly to cool. Yoongi chuckles as he seems to look inside of your head at the neurons connecting as a flush of embarrassment crosses your face. 

“I’ll be right back,” the words are barely out before you leave the room, slipping into the hallway and all but sprinting to the bathroom. Your body feels both too hot and too cold at the same time, and under the harsh overhead light of the bathroom the dark circles under your eyes are prominent, your baby hairs sticking up in wild directions from your scalp. You bend over the sink, gripping onto the cold porcelain. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your words echo into the bowl of the sink but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about the potential of either of them hearing you over their music. You stand, glaring at the image of yourself in the mirror for a few seconds before you decide you have probably been hiding in here for a suspicious amount of time. Determined to find a way for them to let you go home, you barrel out of the bathroom and back into the hallway. 

“Hi,” Yoongi’s voice startles you, and his presence in the cramped space is even more alarming. In all the time you've known him, he's never been one to completely abandon his post while in the thick of the production process. 

“...Hi? Are you guys done?” A kernel of hope lights in your chest. If they’re done, you can make your escape to home and deal with the heavy pull of arousal in you core by yourself. Yoongi shakes his head no and raises his hands above him, stretching his arms and allowing your eyes to feast on a strip of creamy skin above his waistband. Your face reheats, tongue darting out to lick your chapped lips. He looks divine. 

Yoongi’s eyes follow your own, and a beautiful little smirk sprouts on his face. “Just came to use the bathroom.” His voice rumbles the same way it did when he dropped you off at your doorstep a few weeks ago with a sinful kiss and your knees quiver.

You nod stupidly, tripping over your own feet as you side step the door to allow him passage. He dips his head in a subtle nod and as he approaches and you can smell the musk of his cologne. Despite the step you took away he makes an effort to brush by you, one of his strong hands clasping gently around your own. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until he leaned in close enough that you could pick out his individual eyelashes. His thumb presses into the back of your hand, a firm reminder of the reality of the situation as his words slip into the air between you. 

“We’re both willing to take a break, if you could think of something else more...interesting to occupy us.” His canines sparkle in the light of the hall and you have the overcoming desire to feel them scrape against your neck. 

“B-both of you?” The question all but jumps from your mouth, a product of your disbelief of the last night they had made you feel this way, which you were still partly convinced was just a delusion of your drunkenness. Yoongi nods, strands of hair obscuring his heavy stare. 

“Yes.” He’s gone in a flash, the bathroom door shutting behind him. The thud reverberates through your body and you stand stunned in the hallway, body buzzing with anticipation. Jimin is waiting just beyond the wall, and the image of his legs spread wide on the couch just waiting for you and Yoongi to return springs into your mind. Desire drives your feet and before you know it you’re back in the dimly lit studio, palms sweating when you finally see him again. 

“You’re back.” His voice is cool and level, gaze fixed on you as you approached him. Suddenly emblazoned by the knowledge Yoongi had given you, you nod and edge closer to the couch. 

“Heard you’re looking to take a break?” Jimin’s eyes cloud with the realization of your words, seeing through the facade of your question easily. He swipes his plush bottom lip with his thumb and hums in affirmation. “If you’re willing to provide one?” His voice is thick with lust, sending butterflies through your stomach.

The subtle tilt of his head is all it takes for you to advance toward him, plopping yourself easily onto his thigh, facing the mess of the coffee table. His hands are immediately on your hips; fingers digging into the flesh with an addicting pinch of pain. Your hips rut at the contact, pushing into the muscle of his leg. The pressure sends a spike of arousal down your spine that makes you moan and Jimin responds by curling his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. His fingertips feel like ice against your hot skin, and he uses the shock to gain control of your hips. 

There’s no use putting up a fight once he has you, manually rocking your core against his leg. Even though you can’t see him, you can hear his little pants of appreciation as your head rolls back against your shoulders. The fabric of your underwear is slick and pulling right against your clit, the layers of friction making you feel like you’re going crazy. Your nails dig into Jimin’s arms, enjoying the feeling of his muscles moving. 

The door swings open and even though you know it’s Yoongi you gasp, whipping your head toward him. Your face flushes at being caught but Yoongi simply appraises you, eyes roving over your heaving chest and Jimin’s grip on your hips. The weight of Yoongi’s stare only makes you wetter, slicking the crotch of your cotton shorts a darker shade. Jimin chuckles and moves faster, allowing a consistent grind of pressure against your clit that makes tears edge your eyelids. 

You gasp, arms flailing outward hopelessly. In your scramble your arms clash into Yoongi’s form, scrabbling to hook into the fabric of his hoodie as your clit throbs and your climax approaches. Yoongi’s hands encircle your face, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and stooping down until you can feel his breath against your cheeks. 

“Pretty girl,” he flutters his thumb against your lashes until you open your eyes. “There you are.” His feline gaze turns your brain to liquid, enjoying the attention from Yoongi while Jimin gives you the release you’ve been waiting for. 

“P-please,” you struggle around the words, and don't have the energy to articulate your needs, but Jimin holds your hips still and bounces his leg, baring your pussy down against him directly. Unable to squirm away from the pleasure, a moan rips from your throat into Yoongi’s chest as you come, pitching forward as the pleasure curls your toes. Despite your exhaustion you continue to cant your hips against Jimin’s leg after you come until Yoongi tuts and pulls you up slightly, depriving you of the surface. 

“Look at the fucking mess you made of my pants, baby.” Jimin growls. Your face flushes in embarrassment but you can’t deny that the sight only turns you on more. Knowing that you were the one responsible for the mess on his sweatpants and the subsequent bulge makes your mouth water. On unstable legs you pull from Yoongi’s embrace and lean down over Jimin, giving your other boss a prime view of your ass in the ridden-up shorts doing little to preserve your modesty. His hands are on you immediately, tugging down the fabric of your shorts and panties as soon as you nod your approval. 

“Can I kiss you?” You relish the way Jimin’s cheeks sport a pretty blush at your question as he nods. A warm fuzzy feeling spreads through your chest as you connect your lips with his own, gently coaxing out the demon of a man you know lives inside- the one who pushed his cock down your throat in the backseat of his car the last time you went out together.  Yoongi’s deft fingers part your folds and you moan into the kiss which only spurs Jimin on. His tongue finds a home in the depths of your mouth at the same time that Yoongi spreads your asscheeks with his hands, humming at the sight of your bared pussy. He pauses all movements, making you twirl your hips impatiently, before releasing a glob of spit that runs hot over your pussy. You shiver, keening at the embarrassingly attractive action. He wastes no time running his fingers between your lips, circling your clit with your combined wetness until your knees go weak. Jimin bites your lip and disconnects the two of you, staring sinfully at the trail of saliva that connects you. 

“Yoongi gonna make you cum again?” The question is rhetoric, but you still nod furiously at the idea. Yoongi laughs heartily, clearly amused by the desperation. 

“Gonna do more than make you cum, baby.” Your head swivels back to catch a look at him sinking onto his knees, easily pushing the coffee table back so he has ample room to work. Your pussy flutters at the idea of him eating you out, a dream that had been plaguing you since you first heard him craft some of his most infamous lyrics. 

You're so enamored at the glassy look in his eyes that you almost miss Jimin asking to shed your sweatshirt. The fabric comes off easily, goosebumps arriving as the garment leaves you. Jimin groans as he’s presented with your tits, hanging perfectly in front of his face as you're bent over for Yoongi. 

Jimin captures one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging at the nub like a man starved. Yoongi dives into your pussy, licking a broad stripe all the way through your folds. His tongue splits your lips and explores every possible inch. 

“Oh god,” the sensation of them both working on you makes you feel lightheaded, in total disbelief of the way the night has gone. “F-feel so good.” You mewl as Yoongi licks tight circles around your clit, Jimin’s teeth scraping against the sensitive skin at the curve of your breast as his hand engulfs the other, pulling and pinching in all the right places. 

“I- can’t fucking, oh my god-” no words seem to do justice to the feeling of pure arousal slipping through you, and the lewd sounds of being devoured sends your mind into a perfectly numb lull. Jimin and Yoongi are everything, everywhere, moving in a sinful tandem of lips and teeth that you don’t think you will ever recover from. The bubbling heat in your stomach rises, aided by the slurps of Yoongi absolutely devouring you, his nose digging into you as he pushes his tongue as deep as possible into your hole. You can only imagine how wet his face will be when he pulls away; chin, cheeks and lips stained with the evidence of your arousal. 

Your legs wobble, knees shaking from the effort of keeping your body upright as your orgasm barrels toward you. Jimin scrapes the top row of his teeth across your nipple as you come, body trapped between two sources of unending pleasure. The short break between orgasms has made you dizzy, keening as Yoongi devours every drop you give him. Over sensitivity rushes in, and the men work faster than your blissed out brain can comprehend.

Once the ringing in your head stops, you can feel the delicate press of Yoongi’s lips against the backs of your thighs: Jimin’s cool fingertips soothing down the bites he created on your chest.

“Come on, pretty. Such a good girl. Come lay down.” Jimin’s hands pull you gently, easily back onto the couch where you had spent countless hours before. The cool leather feels amazing against your heated skin and you quickly resign yourself to pressing the entire front of your body into it, head propped on Jimin’s thigh. This close, there was no mistaking the heavy bulge in the front of his pants. Your fingers twitch, inching toward him.

Yoongi’s dark chuckle makes you pause, peering up to see him standing over you, a satisfied smirk on his face. Just as you’d imagined his chin is covered in a gleam that could only come from being buried deep in your pussy. Your hips twitch against the couch.

“You wanna suck Jimin’s cock? Will you let me sit and watch you make him come?” You nod dumbly against Jimin’s leg, not daring to take your eyes off of Yoongi as he maneuvers himself back into his trusty chair. He sits and makes no secret of palming at himself through his shorts as your mouth waters.

“Please?” You ask, as if they would ever be able to deny you anything. You can feel the sweat drying onto your body, and the heat reigniting in your stomach makes you restless. Wiggling your fingers playfully toward his cock, you fix Jimin with your best pleading stare.

“You know this cock belongs to you, baby. Take it.” Heat flushes your cheeks as you scramble for his waistband. Suddenly seized with an insatiable hunger to have your mouth filled to the brim. Jimin lifts his hips in aid, exposing inches of flawless skin before his cock springs to life, unbidden by any clothing. He takes the break to pull off his top, balling it up and throwing it directly into Yoongi’s face. The older man grumbles in good nature and swats the shirt away. Your hips push against the couch cushion as you reach for him, the weight and warmth of his impressive cock making your head spin. Jimin moans at your touch, encouraging you to pump your hand over him slowly.

He intakes a ragged breath as you speed up, impatient with yourself. “C’mon baby, take it.” He grinds out the words and you shiver, shuffling forward until you can comfortably lower your head over him, wrapping your lips around the tip. It had been only a few weeks since the last time you gave him head, but that didn’t make his length any easier to adjust to. Your eyes water at the intrusion as you push further down, wiggling your tongue against the underside. Jimin’s thighs twitch under your ministrations.

“You’re so fucking good at that, Y/N.”

Emboldened, you push more of him down your throat until you’re fighting against a gag, spit dripping down to the base of his cock. Unable to go further, your hand occupies the rest, pumping in time with the movement of your head. The mess of praise and the burn of Yoongi’s eyes on your body makes you moan around him.

Jimin’s hips immediately jump, pushing further into your mouth. Your eyes widen and tears push forward as Jimin takes full advantage of your mouth, your nails scrabbling at his thighs as you try to clear your mind.

“Shhh, baby. Look so pretty drooling and dumb on my cock. Our girl is so good, isn’t she Yoongi?” Jimin’s voice shakes, a giveaway of his impending orgasm.

“The best girl,” Yoongi’s voice is clipped, and even though your eyes are blurred with tears you’re sure he’s working his hand over his own cock. You moan again, using the vibration to your advantage as Jimin grips your hair, holding you in place.

Your lungs constrict as his whines reach a peak, cock twitching incessantly until he’s coming. You swallow with every spurt he gives you, the bitterness easy to dismiss in the heat of the moment. Jimin’s grip loosens just as the last ropes of his cum shoot out, streaking across your chin and lips. He grins, satisfied at the mess and your performance. His now free hand takes a handful of your ass, pinching it and landing a slap against the flesh.

“Open?” He asks almost sheepishly. You obey easily, putty in his hands as he inspects your mouth to be sure you swallowed everything he gave you. He hums happily at the sight, gathering up the stray bits of cum on your face with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. You suck the pad of his thumb clean, eyes heavy with lust as you swirl your tongue around it. Jimin growls, ripping the appendage out to slap your ass a few times in quick succession.

The pain makes your spine curve with pleasure and you almost can’t believe how wet you are again, but Jimin’s fingers quickly dip into your pussy, cooing when he feels your slick coating his fingers. Your own mouth parts in a frustrated groan, annoyingly aware of how achingly empty you are.

“Please fuck me.” Your voice is raw and shaky, and you worry that maybe their inaction means they couldn’t hear you. Jimin’s hand stays steady against the swell of your ass while you wiggle your hips in frustration. Impatient tears well in your eyes as you watch Yoongi slowly remove his hand from his cock; the tip an angry red from all the time he spent playing with it while you sucked Jimin’s cock. It feels like years pass before he even gets up from the chair.

“You wanna get fucked?” His deep voice makes your heart do cartwheels in your stomach. Yoongi’s hand caresses the nape of your neck, lightly combing through the mussed strands there. You nod vigorously, attempting to sit up so that you can convey your need to him even more.

“Please Yoongi, please I’ll do-“ a sharp tug on your hair makes your brain short circuit, words dying in your mouth. Your breathing turns shallow, anticipatory when he uses his primal grip on you to pull your body upwards until you’re sitting up on the couch. From here you are afforded the full view of them both. Jimin’s chest is still heaving from coming, his body covered in a sheen of sweat that only makes his appear more surreal in the dim studio lights. Yoongi had shed both his shirt and bottoms, presumably while you were busy with Jimin. His cock bobs against his stomach, gleaming with precum as he moves. Your heart jumps at the proximity of Yoongi’s body, the way you can see the veins in the arm that holds your hair flex as he pulls your scalp harder. You keen, hips pushing against the air at the sprouting pain. Yoongi laughs, licking at his gleaming canines you want to feel buried deep in your shoulder blade.

His grip holds you still, obedient as your eyes dart wildly between them, hungry to see what their next move will be.

“Such a patient girl for us, right Yoongi?” Jimin’s velvet voice makes you want to cry out and beg for release again, but you bite your tongue so you don’t miss what he says.

“Hmm, very patient.” Yoongi appraises you, sitting at attention, nipples pebbled with your arousal. “Although I think she could stand to wait a bit longer.” Your eyes widen, surprised and momentarily terrified they were going to leave you in the dust.

“No no no no, please don’t!” You can’t stop the tinge of anxiety that spikes through you, the sudden concern that they no longer wanted you if they had each other. Not to mention the burning desire that you knew you wouldn’t be able to quell even with your most favorite vibrator. Hot tears let loose down your cheeks, dripping off of your chin in mere seconds.

“Hey, baby, stop,” Yoongi’s hand releases your hair to tap at your cheek, light enough that you blink through your tears to focus on him. He smiles in the sweet gentle way you’ve come to know means he’s sincere. You can feel Jimin’s calloused fingers brushing gently over your shoulders, curling into the tensed muscles as you ground yourself.

“Do we need to stop?” All of the air in the room gets sucked out with his words, all three of you frozen in time.

“No, no,” You puff out. “Don’t wanna stop.” You grasp his arm, fingernails digging into his milky flesh. “I j-just feel so empty.”

His cat like grin returns at your words, your tears receding into glossy begging eyes. “Oh, baby, you’ll be full of cock in no time. Can you sit pretty for just a few more moments?”

Curious as to why you need to wait, you watch Yoongi intently, but are somehow still shocked when he catches Jimin’s plush lips in an earnest kiss. The younger man sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s frame. The way their lips move together is mesmerizing, and you faintly remember watching them kiss once before, when you were admittedly drunk and thought maybe you were mistaking the passion between them.

Now you knew for sure what you were seeing, and that it was making fresh waves of arousal drip down your thigh. Jimin reaches for Yoongi’s cock, stroking him with playfully light touches you know are meant to drive him crazy. You can see everything from your seat on the couch, and their symphony of moans sends your hand right between your thighs. You rub your clit in time with Jimin’s tugs, making sure to keep the touch just as feather light as it seems to be for Yoongi.

As sensitive as you are, even the simple touch is making your mind go hazy, losing yourself in the moment and the feeling of your own hand. You moan, pressing down into the pressure of your hand: embarrassing close to coming again just from watching your bosses make out.

“I thought I asked you to sit pretty?” Yoongi’s voice is clipped and breathy at having just pulled Jimin’s hand off of him, but it still startles you enough that you rip your hand away feeling like you had been caught.

“I-I’m sorry, it was just,” you stumble on the words, face flushed as you decide on how much you should admit. Jimin raises an inquisitive eyebrow, his cock fluttering back to life.

“Hot?”

Your blush deepens but you nod, hair falling into your face. Yoongi seems less amused at your disobedience, but the dark look on his face only makes you want him inside of you more. You bite back the whimper growing in your throat and still, waiting for instruction.

Yoongi’s steps forward, easily crowding your vision until he’s all you can see. One hand grips your throat, lightly at first, then increasingly hard as he sees the delight in your eyes. The press of his hand over your throat is intoxicating, just the perfect amount of pressure that has your mouth hanging open absentmindedly. You feel good, knowing that you he was going to take care of you. Jimin’s deep groan at the sight reminds you that he’s there just moments before Yoongi breaks your distance and captures your lips in a kiss.

It’s nothing as gentle and sweet as the few you’d shared before. His teeth are immediately nipping into your bottom lip, tongue surging forward into your mouth without abandon. Spit slicks down your chin and over your cheeks and you moan at the feeling, Yoongi practically swallowing you up like you’re the last person on earth. Through it all he keeps control of you by the hand on your neck, only letting up when you’re gasping for air.

You feel oddly vacant without his hand on your throat, but you have a feeling it won’t be the end of your experience with it.

“Such a pretty, desperate little thing. Can’t wait to fill you up, fuck.” Yoongi’s eyes flutter at the thought and before you know it he’s moving you, pressing the length of your body down against the couch. You’re acutely aware that Jimin must have moved to the chair to make room for you, but all thoughts get wiped from your head as Yoongi looms over you.

Your legs part, unashamed for him to see just how wet you are. He grins, kneeling between them and fisting himself a few times.

“Please fuck me, Yoongi, wanna feel you inside.” The stream of consciousness barrels out of you, followed by a string of curses as he obeys and pushes the head of his cock into you. The stretch is intense despite your extreme arousal, but the loving hands caressing your stomach help morph the feeling into pure pleasure. When the clouds of pain start to clear you moan, high and loud, latching onto the cushions under you.

“You look so good split open on my cock.” Yoongi works his hips into a smooth rhythm immediately, eyes honed in on the sight of your pussy swallowing him up. The press of him inside of you is serendipitous, the perfect angle means he’s nudging against your gspot with every single push.

“Prettiest fucking girl, look at you taking cock so well again.” Jimin is suddenly beside you, hands groping your tits again. You keen, overwhelmed with the sensations as white hot pleasure burns through you. Yoongi speeds up, bracing his foot for more leverage on the perfect angle as he pounds into you.

“So f-full,” you gasp out, tears of pleasure running into your hairline. Your clit throbs for attention, the final thing you need to fall headfirst into that wonderful pleasure. You gasp and writhe, pushing your hips upward to meet his thrusts.

“If you don’t stop that I’m gonna come right inside of you.” The words are a warning but your pussy immediately reacts by gripping his cock tighter. A broken moan spills from his mouth and he growls.

“Wan’ it.” The words come out soft, strangled by the loud squelching of your pussy, but Jimin is close enough to hear. He turns toward you, smiling with the intensity of a million suns.

“You want him to come inside of you? Fill that pussy up and make you ours?” Jimin is sure to speak loud enough that Yoongi will hear, but the man drilling into you looks pointedly only at your face, awaiting his confirmation. You look between them both, shivering with need.

“Yes, wanna have Yoongi come in me,” you lick your lips, “please, and,” You pause as Yoongi swipes his finger across your clit after hearing your affirmation. The last bits of your sanity are about to be washed away with your orgasm, but you breathe through it.

“W-wait!” You yell, Yoongi stilling as well as he can so close to his orgasm.

“Want Jimin too.” You gasp, barely trusting your words. The man grins, placing a kiss on the swell of your breast.

“Of course, baby, I’m so fucking hard right now I can’t imagine not coming all over these pretty tits.”

Tears of frustration brim again, hormones going crazy.

“No, in me.” You whine, petulant at the idea of him not coming inside you tonight. Both of their eyes widen, staring at you like you had just unlocked the secret to eternal life. Yoongi’s thrusts return with vengeance, finger circling your clit deftly.

“Can’t get enough of it, huh? Such a little slut that just one man coming in you isn’t enough?” You nod as his cock twitches, moments away from your own blinding orgasm. Jimin’s lips are devouring your neck, seemingly emblazoned by your admission. It only takes a few more swipes of Yoongi’s nimble fingers before you come, back arching off of the couch like a woman possessed.

The sounds and curses that leave you are barely human and essentially decipherable as your body warms under the glow of an intense orgasm. When Yoongi finally comes, your pussy gripping him tightly so he doesn’t leave, he continues strumming at your clit until your nerves feel set on fire.

“Good girl, taking all my fucking come.” Yoongi praises you as he finally pulls out, watching his come slip out with him before he retreats to stand beside you. Your head is still in the clouds, mind numb from absolute pleasure as Yoongi pats your thighs so he can get out from between them.

Jimin brushes the sweat slicked strands of hair off of your forehead, leaning close enough to him that you can see his individual eyelashes.

“Still got it in you? Want another load?” Your stomach flips, pussy clenching at the idea and you nod so hard it makes your neck hurt. Yoongi shuffles up until he’s next to your head, obviously sleepy as he plops down onto the floor with a lazy grin. He kisses your cheek playfully as Jimin moves.

He wastes no time in assuming the same position Yoongi had just left. Pliant and fucked out, you give him an exhausted smile as you watch him line up and push into your entrance.

“Still so fucking tight even though you just got railed. So willing to have two cocks back to back.” Jimin’s voice burns through you, low and sexy in a way you rarely get to enjoy. His eyes twinkle as you nod, gasping at the length of his cock. He begins his onslaught even faster than Yoongi had, pushing through your walls with a blindingly perfect rhythm.

“F-Fuck me so well,” you slur, grasping for his arms as he drills into you. Jimin is gasping, clearly close to his own end as you start to feel the hazy warmth of an orgasm come on. Yoongi kisses you even more as your moans heighten, sure not to cover your mouth so that they get to hear every sound you can give them. “You’re gonna look so pretty full of me and Jimin’s come, so fucked out and dripping.”

Even without any attention to your clit his words have you just seconds away from coming, and you warn Jimin of this.

“Already gonna come without me even having to touch your little clit? So fucking wet and desperate that just my cock will do it?” Your head spins, eyes tipping back into your head. His hips stutter, faltering for just a second as your knees lock, pushing his cock even further into you until you’re coming. Your eyes squeeze shut as you scream your throat raw calling his name and begging for his come.

You can’t stop the tears that spill out of you even after you feel him empty into you, the weight of his body pressing into your own as he makes sure not to waste a drop. You pant together, chests rising and falling in time. The way your skin sticks together doesn’t even bother you right now, but Jimin moves just slightly and the cool air rushes in.

You mumble, still working on feeling like a human again.

“What’s that?” It’s Yoongi, who’s still sitting by your side, laying his head against Jimin’s toned bicep.

“Cold.” You try, voice absolutely wrecked. You poke at Jimin’s side. “Heavy, too. Move.” You wiggle beneath him and he sits up, giggling at your sudden attitude. He’s still lodged inside of you, his and Yoongi’s come slowly leaking out of you and onto the couch, but this somehow feels just as normal as your usual day at work. Another chill passes through your body and Yoongi tuts, striding order to the thermometer. You and Jimin both watch his naked form as he goes, cranking the number up so that the room gets hotter.

“Told you we keep it too cold in here,” he mutters to Jimin, who shrugs and looks down at the mess between your legs. You flush.

“Sorry about the couch.” Jimin laughs as he pulls out, clearly still a little aroused at the sight of come pouring out of you.

“Fuck the couch. It’s your spot anyway.” His fingers dance over your pussy and you whine, shaking your head and clamping your thighs shut.

“Too sensitive.” It’s simple, and he nods easily, slipping off of the couch. You lose sight of him for a second before he’s back, slipping your sweatshirt back over your head. The warmth instantly cures you, putting a satisfied smile on your face. Yoongi reappears from what you assume to be the bathroom with a damp towel, silently asking your permission before gently cleaning you up.

Your legs twitch and you have to physically bite back a moan when he runs the fabric over your clit, but you’re happy to be cleaned and have him help you into your shorts. He hands the towel off to Jimin as you sit up, pointedly looking away from the mess on the couch.

“Shit, forgot about that!” Yoongi springs forward, shirt halfway on. He leans over the coffee table and flicks off a switch, the recording equipment going dead. His face blanches as he looks over at you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t turn it off before we…” his hands wave uselessly in front of him. Jimin, at least dressed, looks equally mortified.

“We can delete it all! I promise, we won’t even listen to it again! I’ll do it right-“

Your laugh bubbles out of you and stops them both in their places.

“I don’t care, guys.” Their faces twist in confusion. Surely you wouldn’t want them to keep it? “You were stuck on the song anyway. Use it as the backtrack or something.” You shrug, taking supreme delight in the surprise on their faces.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Jimin groans, appreciative, and you glow under their eyes. He immediately dashes over to the computer, locating and examining the file. Yoongi finishes redressing and even wipes off the couch before bundling you into his chair with him. His hands comb through your matted hair and examine the marks on your neck until he deems you to be okay.

“Thanks for the song inspiration.” He chuckles, mouth tucked against the nape of your neck.

“Happy to help. Let me know the next time you need some new ideas.” Despite your sleepiness the idea makes you squirm, to which Yoongi groans.

“I have a feeling we’ll be needing lots of new ideas. For a very long time.” Maybe you’re crazy, or cock hungry, but you swear you feel him twitch against your ass. “But for now you should probably go home.” You both watch Jimin as he fiddles with some instrumentals, layering them over the peaky audio the three of you recorded on the desktop before popping on his headphones.

Yoongi sighs. “You’re sleepy, and if you stay here any longer while we mix this you’re definitely not gonna be walking tomorrow.”

[asheanon]

✨ Original Lore Time ✨

Original lore time, I repeat, it is time for more strictly original story material lore! 🌎 (Someone asked what that white line in the back is and you may think "oh, it's just a little white line, what all could there be to say about a little white line?" And the answer is a lot. Enough to drop a cut over!)

This is the same world in this old WIP - on the planet itself vs. the iconic moon that the "Moon" part of Fall To The Moon refers to. And this "line" does extend from the planet to the moon!

There are a number of somewhat "psychedelic" features to be found in this setting, be it in that AU or in Anon's story itself. And that "line" is one of this area's more notable "psychedelic" features.

This "line" is a natural phenomenon known as the Sands of Time. Appearing as a ray of light connecting the planet and its largest satellite/moon, it is actually a long band of luminescent sand, rendered completely motionless by what can only be theorized as an actual slowing of time (as the lore currently stands.) It's like a north pole, but with "wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey" stuff!

The band represents the pole of the pole; expanding further upon its radius, time gradually speeds back up and finds a more natural flow. This effect is not just limited to sand, however! One of the reasons it has been such a struggle to study and more closely inspect is due to how it unconditionally slows all local movement, including entities that may approach. (That is one theory of two, however.)

The other theory as to why it is such an enigmatic subject expresses that time does not perceptibly slow down the closer one approaches, however, it still actually does. Those who have paid the Sands of Time a visit are said to have never returned not because they didn't, but their return is so far into the distant future due to the time warping that they may as well be perceived as MIA.

Some sand has inadvertently been collected and taken in for study as it is cast off and sweeps across the planet. Despite being known as the "Sands of Time," it is revealed that the sand itself doesn't seem to have any time-altering effects. Either the effect is tied to that connection between the planet and the moon or is lost when the sand is cast off - it does seem to lose some of its glow and luster when removed. Much like Etherealism, its effects may also seem to extend beyond the corporeal and elude some study. There may be more to the sand than its physical form as well.

It is to that end that there is no telling the amount of explorers, scientists and other brave and inquisitive souls who have doomed themselves to an unknown fate by daring to approach the Sands of Time, looking for answers...

Welp... It's a start. WIPs I'll never be able to explain, part 276. (Had to frame it all funky just so it wouldn't be a blurry mess, it's so looonngggg...)

[veltana]

Groupie - Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fan!Reader

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader ✦ Word count: ~3,6k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Avenger!Bucky, Avenger!Fan!Reader, secret crush, secret hero, fluff, smut, the tiniest bit of angst, misunderstandings, piv sex, breeding kink (I'm not messing around with this one), talk of getting reader pregnant, pet name (Bunny), dirty talk, sex with feelings, multiple orgasms (for both), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: Since joining the Avengers you've been avoiding Bucky Barnes, afraid of what would happen if he ever learned the truth. ✦ Note: I have no idea how to tag this, so if I missed something please let me know. I don't know where this came from so just... it is what it is! This is also posted on AO3.

Masterlist | AO3

Stark called a meeting at the workshop in the evening to show off one of his new inventions that could aid them in the field. As you stand in the back and watch, Bucky comes up beside you, and just as always you discreetly take a small step to the side. Everyone, including Bucky, assumes you dislike him, and you are happy to keep up that front since admitting to the truth would be unprofessional and cause a lot more trouble than avoiding him.

He gives you a sideways glance but doesn’t mention it, he’s used to it by now. Unfortunately, you are still close enough to smell his cologne and it makes your pulse pick up. Unbidden images of being under him, smelling his sweat mixed with the perfume while he takes you apart appear inside your mind. Stark says something but you can’t concentrate with Bucky so close. Shifting even further to the side, he glances at you again and his brows draw together.

"I can go stand somewhere else if it bothers you so much," his tone is annoyed but low, to not disturb the demonstration. "No, it's fine," you mumble. "You forget I can hear your heart beating,” he points out. “And it sounds like a bunny rabbit backed into a corner by a wolf." That doesn't make you any calmer. If he can hear that, can he smell how aroused he makes you every time he gets close? "Sorry, I-" but your mouth has turned dry as a desert. You avoid speaking to Bucky as much as possible because you fear you will just make a fool out of yourself. As you’re doing right now.

"I never understood what you have against me," he crosses his arms, eyes on Stark's display. "Did I hurt someone close to you back in the day or are you afraid I'll revert and start killing again?" Shame fills your chest. You want to turn to him and hug him, explain that it’s not in any way like that. For years you have admired Bucky and when you had gotten the promotion to work with the Avengers your friends had teased you mercilessly about finally meeting your idol, but when you did and you realized that he was everything you had ever dreamed of you got scared. If he knew your secret he would most likely never speak to you again.

"It's not like that," you whisper, finally daring a look at him, but regretting it right away. His beautiful blue eyes are watching you. Quickly you avert your gaze. "You can't even look at me." And that is true. You always look at something else when Bucky is in the same room as you. The only time you allow yourself to admire him is when he's caught up in something else when there is no chance his attention will shift to you.

Just the small amount of it he is giving you right now is almost unbearable. You want to climb him, wrap your legs around his waist, grab his hair, and crush your lips to his. It's dangerous to be so close to him so you do the only thing you can. "I should go, I'm sorry," you mumble and turn on your heel, quickly exiting the workshop and heading for the elevators.

When you're inside your room you breathe a sigh of relief. That had been a close call. Your insides feel like melted ice cream and your knees get weak at remembering how he watched you. The only problem is that maybe you aren’t as smooth at avoiding him as you think, since he had noticed. You'd have to fix that somehow.

Kneeling at the side of your bed you reach in under it to pull out the box. It's discreet and if someone else found it they would probably assume it would be full of sex toys and the like. But a box full of toys would be mildly embarrassing compared to the actual content of the box.

Inside is a big photo book. Leaning against the bed frame you place it on your lap, opening it to the first page. You've tried to keep it in chronological order over the years and the first page contains a few news articles from the war where either the Howling Commandos or Bucky himself appear. You love to see how it starts with small mentions but then the articles grow bigger and bigger. It had been hard to track down some full spreads, not to mention expensive as fuck, and some things you were still saving up for.

Then there are the articles about the Winter Soldier. They needed to be in there, but you never read them. It was before anyone knew the truth about the mind control and the years of torture. The text described him as a killing machine with no morals, not caring who he hurt to get to his price. You quickly skip past those pages.

Your favorite part is the last bit of the album. Recent interviews and photoshoots with the super soldier, talking about his life and his struggles. Not to mention the stylists always made sure to show off his physic, be it suits or sportswear.

Inside the box are also a replica of his dog tags and the hat he'd worn with his uniform. Putting the tags over your head you play with them between your fingers, remembering how they look around his neck. In your previous apartment, they'd been hanging on the wall and your friends had joked about it being a shrine. Now you are too scared to have it on display. If someone sees it they will think you are insane.

You're startled from your musings by a knock on the door and without much thinking you put the book on the bed before opening it.

Bucky is standing on the other side. The demonstration must have ended. "What is your problem with me?" The words fail you as your heart starts hammering. He is too close, but if you back away he will probably take it as an invitation to come in and that would be disastrous. "I have barely spoken to you since you got here but you've managed to make it very clear how much you detest me. I just want to know why." He's annoyed and desperate at the same time. "Can I do something to fix it? I can't have a team member be afraid of me when we go out into the field and I… are those my dog tags?"

Ice rushes into your veins as you realize you forgot to take them off and you quickly cover them with your hand. "No," you lie. "They have my name on them." "No, they don't." "Are you serious?” Now he’s looking more mad. “Tell me what the fuck is going on right now."

You fucked up. You could keep on lying, close the door in his face, and never speak to him again. Ask for a transfer. Or you could show him. And then ask for a transfer. Because whatever you did you would not keep your job after this.

With trembling hands you open the door, releasing your hold on the dog tags and gesturing for him to come inside. "Sit," you murmur and when he does you place the book in his lap. He glances at you and for the first time you hold his gaze. This might be the last time you see him so you might as well take advantage of the moment. It will never happen again. "Open it."

As he hesitantly opens the first page you slip off the dog tags and place them into the box before sitting down too, with a decent amount of space between the two of you.

While he's occupied you study his face and try to commit it to memory. Bucky Barnes, in your room, on your bed, reading your album. It's a dream come true. Though you had hoped it would be after sex while you were still naked in bed, and you could take it out and show him. But this works too.

"This is extensive,” he sounds impressed and you hope he is. You wouldn’t say it’s your life's work but it’s something you worked hard on and is proud of. "I know." "When did you do this?" He looks at you. You shrug in response, "Over the years." "Years?" "I started it when I was in my early twenties.” "How did you find everything?" "The internet can be a wonderful place with like-minded people." "I can't imagine what it could have cost you." "I prefer not to think about it," you laugh.

He glances down into the box and then bends down to pick up the hat. "Please tell me this isn't the original one." "Oh god no, it's a replica!" "Can I try it?" "Please do!" Bucky puts the hat on, tips it to the side, and turns to you with a smile. It's impossible to not smile back when he looks so handsome. "Still fits you." "Feels odd. We used to wear them all the time, but I guess I've gotten used to a life without hats." He removes it and puts it back into the box before picking up the dog tags.

"I have a feeling you don't have these things because you hate me." "I don't hate you, it's quite the opposite." "Then why keep avoiding me?" You twist in your spot uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. "It's embarrassing. I never thought I would actually get to meet you when I started this collection." "I honestly feel honored. I'm not usually the person people think it's worth remembering." You tilt your head, "I do." "I can see that."

For a moment you look at each other and you get to experience what it feels like to drown in his eyes. Those blue magical pools that you've only ever studied on printed paper or through a screen. It could never compare to the real thing. Fearing you're going to say something more stupid you take the book from him. "So now you know," you say. "If you want me to transfer I'll happily put in a request. You were never meant to see it and I understand if it makes you uncomfortable around me." "No, that won't be necessary," he assures you. "But there is one thing I still don't get."

When you look up from your lap he's moved much closer. Too close again. His presence fills your senses in a way no one else has ever done. "What?" your voice almost cracks. "Why do you move away as soon as I get close?" His voice is low, as if not to scare you. With a wobbly laugh, you put the book down in between you and Bucky, scooting a bit away, studying the bedsheets.

"As you're doing now." "It's just, I like my personal space," you explain. "And you won't look at me." A single finger lands under your chin and tilt your head towards him. He's touching you. Bucky Barnes is touching you.

"Are you sure you aren't scared, Bunny?" "Ye-yeah," you swallow. "Because I think your heart is about to burst out of your chest." He moves the book out of the way and slides right up to you, until his leg is pressed against yours. The finger is still holding you in place, craning your neck to look at him. Your body flushes with heat. Now he's really touching you. "So what is it then?" There is a teasing in his voice, as if he knows but he wants to hear you say it.

Your tongue wet your dry lips and his focus shifts to that for a second. Opening your mouth to give him an answer, nothing comes out, not even the truth. "Bunny, you better answer me."

Finally, you find your voice. "I'm scared I won't be able to control myself," you confess. "And what would happen if you lost control?"

You close your eyes. You can't look at him when you speak. "I'll drop to my knees and beg to suck your cock." Bucky inhales sharply. "Or climb into your lap and beg you to fuck me. I'd let you do anything to me just to get a small taste. I'd ask you to use my body as you wanted and I won't need anything in return." "Fuck, Bunny. You have a dirty mind." "Sorry, I can't help that you smell so good and look so hot, it's too much."

His finger on your chin changes to a grip and you open your eyes, meeting his. They're filled with greed for something you don't understand. "You'd let me fuck you?" "Yes" "How about coming inside you?" "God yes!" "When was the last time you had tests done?" "Maybe a month ago? They were clean." "Any partner since then? Are you on birth control?" You hesitate for a moment. "Bunny?" "No… to both" Bucky laughs. "You would let me breed you, Bunny? Fuck you raw until you're bursting with my cum?"

The moan slips out unbidden. Just the thought of his raw dick inside you. Playing pregnancy roulette. It makes you so hot. "Yes, I would Bucky."

"Take off your clothes, lay on your back." You stare at him. "Is something unclear?" "You? And me? You want to have sex with me?" Something crosses over Bucky's face. "You don't have to." He reassures you. "No! I want to! I just… I never thought you'd want to. With me." "Well, you're wrong. And if you want to with me you better do as you're told."

Scrambling to take off your clothes you watch Bucky as he stands up and slowly starts doing the same. He's only gotten his shirt off by the time you're naked. "Spread your legs, let me see."

You pull your knees up and let them fall to the side. The stickiness from your arousal has already coated the inside of your thighs. You're sure you've never been this wet before in your life.

"Bunny's got a cute little pussy on her." Bucky's smile is predatory like he is an actual white wolf stalking its prey. He's down to his boxers now, his erection outlined through the cotton. It's big. "Don't look scared, we'll make it fit, I promise."

When his boxers are off too you can't help but stare but you’re more excited than anything else. The pulse in your cunt doesn't care if it’s going to hurt, there is only one thing on your mind. "I want your cock Bucky," you tell him. "Don't worry, you'll get it." He crawls on top of you, keeping his weight on his forearms and his body off of yours. "But I'm going to kiss you first."

His lips are soft but his kiss is demanding. It leaves no room for hesitation that he doesn't want you. Quickly he works your mouth open and moans when his tongue finds yours. You put your hands in his hair, guiding him to where you want his mouth. Then he descends your body, nipping at your jaw, sucking on your neck before finding your breasts. One hand is warm and the other is cold as he presses them together, caressing the nipples with his thumbs, making you keen and shudder. He uses his mouth to pull more sounds from you, licking, sucking, and dragging his teeth lightly against the stiff peaks, until your naked pelvis bucks up against his upper body, trying to find friction for the need he causes in you.

"You need something, Bunny?" "I need you to fuck me!" "It would be better for you if you come first." "No, I need it now! Stretch me with your cock Bucky, please I need it so bad!"

In a second he's kissing you again, feverishly, and this time he lets his body sink down on yours, his thick shaft brushing your wet center, making both of you shudder. Bucky reaches down and uses his hand to guide the tip to your opening. "Tell me if it hurts and we'll stop." "Promise." You relax into the bed, spreading your legs, and watch Bucky's face as he pushes into you.

He's big, but you're also incredibly wet. Your body slowly gives for his intrusion. There is a slight sting but it quickly turns into pleasure as he fills you. "So big!" you moan and experimentally move against him. "Fuck, Bunny, this is the tightest pussy I fucking ever felt. You're going to be the death of me." "Make me come first, then you can die." With a grunt, he pulls back and pushes in, carefully to get you used to him, but it’s not what you want or need.

"Move, please move. Fuck me Bucky!" you beg and he does. Not in your wildest fantasies could you predict this sensation. So full. So good. Bucky groaning above you. His warm skin under the palms of your hands. The sound of your arousal mixing with the sound of skin meeting skin.

"I'm already leaking into your cunt Bunny. It feels so good." "Yes, Bucky!" "Did you know I have almost zero recovery time? I just need a quick breather after coming before I can go again." With a moan, you wrap your legs around him. "I'm going to fill you with so much cum you'll be drunk on it." He leans down until he's right by your ear.

"I'll breed you all night long. And I'll continue to do it every night until you're pregnant." "Bucky!" "You fucking like that, I can feel how tight you get!"

Shaking your head you try to deny it, but carrying his baby would be the ultimate fantasy. "Please make me full of you! I want a baby Bucky. Make me fucking pregnant with our child!"

"Dirty! Fucking! Mind!" He says through gritted teeth, punctuating every word with a particularly hard thrust. "More!" You cry as the pressure inside you builds. Bucky quickly sits up on his knees, grabbing your hips, pulling you onto his dick as he thrusts inside you. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" you chant. "Make me come, Bucky! Please! More!"

"Bunny!" he warns. "You better fucking come before me, I can't hold it with your tight cunt squeezing me like that!" Desperately you start rubbing your clit and a moment later everything explodes through your body. With an unearthly wail, you find your release and Bucky quickly follows, cursing and roaring while he pumps you full.

The world is unsteady for a moment but then it rights itself. Bucky's head is thrown back as he heaves in lungfuls of air and you're no better where you're lying. He's not soft inside you yet and maybe he won't even go down.

"That was…" you begin but then shake your head with a stupid smile on your lips. "Better than you thought it would be?" He asks. "A million times better." "Good because we're not done." He releases your hips to once again lean down over you, kissing you much softer this time, moving his hips slower. It makes you keen into his mouth with the delicious stretch and the wetness of his release adding to the feeling. It leaks onto the sheets as he fucks you but you don't mind. At the end of all this, your sheets will probably need to be burned.

"Bunny, fuck, Bunny, look at me," Bucky demands and you do. He's close enough that you share a breath. "So fucking pretty. My little groupie." Despite the situation you laugh. "Aren't you?" "Absolutely Bucky, I'm your groupie." "Only mine?" "Of course! I don't have any more boxes under the bed." "Good." He rests his head at the crook of your neck, his hot breath ticking your skin and you close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of him surrounding you. Soon another orgasm works its way through your body. You don't scream this time, instead, you whisper in his ear how fucking good it feels, how he's filling you so well, and how you want him to breed you.

Moments later Bucky bursts inside you for the second time. He takes a minute before he rolls the two of you over so you're on top. The strength in your body is nearly gone but Bucky's serum keeps him going. And he keeps his promise. All through the night, he fills you and by the time the sun starts rising, he pulls one last weak orgasm from you before stopping.

"So fucking pretty," he muses as he spreads you open to watch the cum run out of you, before pushing some of it back in with his fingers, making you whine. With a chuckle, he wipes it off on the sheets, and then looks around. "I don't think we can sleep in this bed, Bunny. Where's your pajamas?" It's a miracle you're still awake but you point to the clothes on the chair. Bucky finds you some underwear and dresses you, before carrying you to his room. There he makes you take a shower but afterward, he doesn't let you get dressed again. "I need your skin against mine," he says as he spoons you.

Several hours later you wake up, sore but in the best way. The bed is empty and you must have slept through Bucky waking up. With a giggle, you roll onto your back and that's when you feel something around your neck. Confused, you look down and find his dog tags against your bare skin. The smile on your face must be really stupid as you fiddle with them between your fingers. Who could have known meeting your hero would turn out like this?

[thebadgerclan]

Protect You

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: Even the demon will protect you...

A/N: not requested, but I love this idea lol

He was drenched in sweat, trembling in your arms.  You dabbed at his forehead with a cool cloth, gently rocking him back and forth.  This was arguably the worst part of when the demon came out: coming back to himself.  The demon took such a large toll on Nikolai’s mind and body, and he was exhausted when he came back.

He stirred, moaning softly.  “Kolya?” you said, cupping his cheek.  “Darling, are you back with me?”  The King slowly blinked his eyes open, only calming when he saw you.  “Y/N?”  “Yes, love, it’s me.  How are you feeling?”  You helped him to sit up, pressing a glass of water into his hand.  “Oh, you know…like a demon clawed its way out of my soul.  Nothing new.”

You rolled your eyes, but pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “So,” Nikolai said once he’d finished his water.  “What’s the damage this time around?”  You were silent for a moment, which raised Nikolai’s suspicion.  “Another goose farm?  A herd of cattle?  What, Y/N?”  “There…actually wasn’t any damage.”

Now the King was confused.  Every time the demon came out, he hunted.  Never humans, but livestock, birds, and the like.  “What do you mean, Y/N?  Where did I go?”  “You stayed here, Nikolai.  With me.”  “With you?”  Nikolai sat up, shocked, but he moved too quickly, causing a wave of nausea and dizziness to wash over him.  “Why was I with you?  Why didn’t Tamar get you out?”

Nikolai was frantic now, fear filling him.  The demon was unpredictable, it didn’t have his logic or reasoning, it could not differentiate friend from foe.  And if you were with him when he transformed…  “Hey, Nikolai, look at me,” you said, taking his face in your hands.  “Sweetheart, I am fine.  You didn’t hurt me, you didn’t hurt anyone.”  “I…I didn’t?”  “No, my love.”

Unbidden, a terrified scream left your mouth.  One moment, it was your husband next to you in bed, nodding off as he read.  The next, it was the demon; beady black eyes, black talons and claws, inky scars on his skin, and wings made of shadow.  Tolya and Tamar entered not even a minute later, weapons drawn, prepared to protect their King and Queen.

“Y/N, come on!” Tamar called.  But the moment you stepped away, Nikolai snarled, digging his claws into the bedsheets.  And when Tamar took a step towards you, he gnashed his teeth at her.  “Tamar?” you called, and the Heartrender took another cautious step forward.  This proved to be the wrong decision, as Nikolai leapt from his perch on the bed and went face-to-face with Tamar and growled.

Then, surprising everyone in the room, Nikolai turned to you.  With as much gentleness as the demon was capable of, he draped a wing over you, sheltering you against his body.  He looked at you, his black eyes somehow tender, and purred.  You had no idea that the demon could purr.  Whenever Tolya, Tamar, or even Genya tried to approach, Nikolai would snap and snarl at them, tucking you in tighter to his body, sheltering you with his wing.

“Are you…protecting me?” you asked, and while the demon could not speak, he huffed a breath at you as if to say “Of course I am”.  Nikolai remained in his demon form for several hours, content to sit with you tucked beneath his wing.  And when the demon retreated, Nikolai remembered nothing.

You recounted the evening’s events to your husband, who looked at you like you’d grown a second head.  “I…protected you?  How?”  You shook your head, cupping Nikolai’s cheek and drawing him in for a soft, gentle kiss.  “You did.  I don’t know how, or why, but it seems the demon knows how much you love me and want to protect me.”

Your husband nodded, snuggling into your embrace.  “I do love you, Y/N.  I love you so much, more than I ever thought I could love someone else.  Were you afraid, love?”  Guilt filled you as you nodded.  “I was, yeah.  Not of you, Nikolai, never of you.  But when the demon comes out, it’s not you, and we don’t know what it will do.  But then you protected me, you snapped at Tolya and Tamar and sheltered me.  I don’t know why it happened, but I think the demon knows me.”

Nikolai hummed, sleep pulling him under.  “I love you,” he repeated, words slurring a little.  “I love you, Y/N.  I love you so much.”  You laughed, kissing his forehead and wrapping your arms around him.  “I love you too, Nikolai.  Now get some rest, my love.”  You reached to extinguish the lamp on the bedside table, immediately returning your hand to its place on your husband’s back.  You could dissect what the demon protecting you meant tomorrow, but you knew one thing it meant for certain: Nikolai’s love for you ran so deep that not even the demon could ignore it.

[novankenn]

What If...

Pyrrha was also under the sway of Salem Cinder and Pyrrha loved each other (Pompeii)

Scene : Balcony of EverNight Castle

==> @cheeseeater2 What if Jaune had taken that deal?

Jaune sat on the railing of the highest balcony of EverNight Castle. His legs dangling over the edge. his hands braced behind him. Sadness filled his eyes, as he gazed at the ground far below. He had accepted Pyrrha and Cinder's deal, and left with them.

It had been a mistake. The "love" Pyrrha felt soon faded, and he became no more than a member of her entourage, much like Emerald and Mercury. Pyrrha and Cinder had only eyes for each other, and Jaune felt like a stray dog they had wanted to keep.

He wasn't abused or mistreated, at least physically, but being ignored and coerced was just as hurtful as if Pyrrha physically struck him.

"Jaune?" came a voice he instantly recognized. It was Emerald, one of Cinder's pawns, and much like him trapped in a cycle of emotional manipulation.

"Em." Jaune greeted her, using the nickname he had grown accustomed to addressing her with.

"Is everything okay?" She asked as she climbed on the railing next to him, her legs also dangling over the steep fall.

"Just thinking." Jaune replied.

"About?"

"If it was all worth it." Jaune responded. "I thought there was more, that I was important... but..."

"We're... you're not."

"Was it worth it? Accepting such a tainted offer? I'll admit I didn't want to die at that point." Jaune sighed, before continuing, "But in the end what was the point? I'm an after thought."

"You're not an after thought." Emerald commented as she slid her hand across the railing and placed it over Jaune's. "At least to some of us."

"Em?"

"I thought Cinder was the person I needed in my life, much like you and Pyrrha. We're the same, you know..."

"Ignored and taken for granted. Used at their whims and cast aside." Jaune completed her statement.

"It's hard... you know..."

"Seeing someone you care about, who you thought cared about you... with another..."

"Hearing their honeyed words that are empty of sincerity."

"But what else is there?" Jaune asked, his eyes turning from the ground below, and looking into Emerald's ruby coloured ones. "We've sided with them. Turned our backs on anyone who would have truly care for us."

'We're not really alone you know." Emerald held his gaze, getting lost in the warm azure blue of his eyes. "I know there is someone... who is better for me. Who truly would care, who does care."

Jaune gave her a soft smile, removing his hand from under hers and reaching behind her to gentle coax her closer. Emerald didn't resist. Carefully she shifted closer and unbidden leaned her head against his shoulder.

"We've both made terrible mistakes." she whispered, bask in the warmth and comfort Jaune was providing. "Is there anyway..."

"For us to correct them?" Jaune finished her statement, before adding, "Maybe."

The pair stayed as they were, for over ten minutes.

"What if..." Jaune started and stopped.

"Jaune?"

"I care about you Em. I hate seeing how Cinder and Pyrrha treat you." Jaune offered, "Would you..."

"Would I what Jaune?" Emerald asked as she tilted her head to look directly into his eyes. "Would I be with you? Would I stand at your side?"

"Yes."

"I would without hesitation." Emerald then reached up and gently guided his head towards her. Their lips touched. Unlike the aggressive, passion filled displays Pyrrha and Cinder subjected to the pair, this was soft, comforting. They both swallowed nervously as they separated, mournful smiles upon this lips.

"Do we?" Jaune asked, inclining his head towards the ground below. Emerald shook hers disagreeing with his overly drastic idea.

"We need to live, despite them." Emerald spoke. "Show them true strength. True desire, caring and..."

"Companionship... love."

"Would you leave with me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just leave with me. Walk away from all this. Away from them?"

"I would." Jaune replied. "Is that what you want? T o leave it all behind. To start over... just us?"

"I do." Emerald responded, "What about you?"

"I do." Jaune replied, an actual happy smile on his lips for the first time in months. "I do."

Twenty minutes later, they stood at the threshold to EverNight's threshold. Each laden with a pack. Their weapons at their sides. They said nothing as they reached out and clasped the others hand, before stepping forward and vanishing into the tortured Grimm infested landscape. Leaving it all behind for something better... for something genuine... for something hopeful.

/==/

"Jaune!" Pyrrha raged as she ransacked his room, in utter rage. She couldn't believe he was gone. That he had vanished. That he left her, and everything she had offered him.

"Emerald, you traitor!" Cinder bellowed. Like Pyrrha, her partner and lover she was totally consumed with anger at the discovery that the illusionist was gone.

It had been two days since Jaune and Emerald had left quietly and unnoticed by everyone aside from Mercury. He didn't care. What those two had chosen to do had no bearing on him. So he ignored it, and just continued as he always did.

Deep in the wasteland that made up the Grimm lands. Jaune and Emerald continued to walk. Hand in hand towards the coast. Towards hope. Towards a future... together.

[elvisabutler]

one night of sin

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( priest au ) x female reader word count: 3003 warnings: priest kink. religious talk. cheating ( reader is technically cheating on her boyfriend ). minor implications/ideas of entrapment. minor breeding mention ( like blink and you miss it ). cum swallowing. boot riding. oral ( male receiving ). an obscene amount of the words father presley used. elvis ia a catholic in this because that's my specific flavor of priest. improper confessional. author’s note: welcome to day 15 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, religious kink/priest kink with 68/69 era priest elvis presley x reader. so. long time no see? i got no excuse but to simply explain that when you need the us government to go fast, it'll go slow as molasses in january in yellowknife but when you need it to maybe go a little slower you end up concluding what has been a nearly 5 year long adventure in less than two months. america y'all. BUT. i'm back with a new shift, a sleeping pattern that enables me to not pass out every hour and a priest fic for the smut summer ( that's now just smut last half of the year ) to tide y'all over while i finish up spark and other shenanigans. pick your poison the elvis though to be honest.

"A woman like you should know better," Father Presley murmurs in your ear as he pulls you in for a hug. Unlike most Fathers the congregation has had, he's always been more of a tactile person. He's always joked that it came from his Pentecostal upbringing even as other there were always titters about how it came from actually being a Baptist. Father Presley would turn the other cheek though, a true sign of how he was a good godly man. A man who truly was meant for the cloth.

Yet, your body craves him, and you desire to be on your knees, praying to God and him for salvation. The Lord wouldn't allow the devil to tempt you so viciously with Father Presley. There had to be some good in this temptation. There had to be a plan you were yet to be privy to, but perhaps perhaps the Father might be.

"What did you mean by a woman like me?" You ask after the service legs crossed at the ankles in a plush chair, long after you should have left to spend time with your significant other. He was a boyfriend you had been steady with since college, and yet neither of you had decided to marry. Neither of you had decided to walk down that aisle despite both of your parents insisting on the union. You ought to be spending time with him, but more and more, you found yourself in the rectory with Father Presely discussing any number of topics. He was intellectually stimulating in a way those around you weren't, and you found yourself drawn like a moth to a flame to Father Presley's light.

Father Presley looks up from the papers he had been scribbling on, and you feel a shudder pass through you at the heat in his gaze. The Father shouldn't be looking at you like that. Your boyfriend barely looks at you like that, and yet here the Father was with eyes that set a fire ablaze inside you and underneath your skin. A part of you wants to hang your head in shame, to hide your face as if the Father is stripping your purity with every second he looks at you. If you were being honest with yourself- he already had been. A woman like you should know better than to fantasize about the man who God chose to lead the congregation you're a part of. You always found yourself in the late night hours before bed or the early morning hours before daylight, wondering how his plush lips would feel against your neck, sucking marks on your skin. You wondered how the occasional beard he grew would feel between your thighs and against your most intimate parts. Against your will your thighs clench at the thoughts that float unbidden to the forefront of your mind.

His eyes dart down to your clenched thighs and you see his nostrils flare before he speaks. "A woman who believes in God and who cares about how he sees her. You should know better than to fall for tricks the devil puts in front of you."

Tricks. The word feels like a joke bouncing about your head once it leaves his lips. Was that Father Presley confessing to you that he wasn't a force of good in the world? That he was sent by the devil himself to tempt young women such as yourself to the side of the dark. No, no, Father Presley wasn't that sort of man. Maybe he wasn't perfect but he loves God so much and the mere idea sends a shiver down your spine and through to your soul.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips before you swallow. "And what sort of tricks are those, Father?"

If you weren't paying attention to his face, you'd miss how his jaw clenches and miss how his hand tightens on a paper he's holding. You are paying attention. Rapt attention as you always do for Father Presley and you can't help the smile that crosses your lips. He may not be sent by the devil to tempt young women but maybe you were sent to tempt him. And it appears that it might be working. You're playing with fire though, hellfire and damnation you could joke but but something in the way Father Presley stands up from his desk and makes his way to the front of it has you willing to risk even more.

"You ain't naive, lil one," his voice is pitched so low you almost don't hear him but the words are there, just barely. "You're so innocent, so pure n' righteous but I know ya. Ya ain't the least bit naive. Ya know better than this."

To play with hellfire like this. Perhaps that was the point, perhaps you knew better and yet you also knew this was what you wanted. You wanted to see how far you could push Father Presley, you wanted to see if he would finally break and join you in having a mind swirling off and on with images of the two of you entwined together. Lips pressing against one another and against every body part. Your clit throbs at the memory of your dream from last night.

With a shaky exhale, you try to respond with something witty and charming and expected. "I'm only a woman, Father Presley. I- I'm not- I'm not as innocent as I once was."

You watch as something shifts in Father Presley at your words, how his jaw tenses and he finally moves the front of his desk to right in front of you. He's always been a bit taller than you, than most of the congregation, and yet you've never realized how overpowering that simple height difference could be. You've never quite realized how his broad shoulders and thick arms could cage you in with an ease until you found yourself in the position. Your breath comes in short pants as you swear Father Presley steals them from your chest. His eyes roam across your body, beginning at your open mouth, gliding down your neck and chest and down, down, down until he stops at your thighs.

The thighs that are clenched together so tightly he reckons you'd be able to form a diamond out of coal from the pressure. He can hear the whispers of the Lord telling him he shouldn't do anything. That this is a test the Lord wants him to pass. Yet the longer he looks at you, the longer he sees your chest rise and fall with shallow breaths of desire the louder the voice of the Devil is in his ear becomes. You want this, you need this. You deserve this for being such a pious young woman. You weren't like some other girls who thought they could throw themselves at him, no, you stayed pure and so very inviting for him.

He moves a hand to under your chin, grasping it lightly in an effort to have you look at him. His words leave his mouth in a murmur. "Have ya done somethin' ya need to confess?"

A burning fire rolls through his veins at the idea, threatening to envelop the two of you in hellfire from the Lord smiting you where you both sit. He watches as you open your mouth to speak only to have something akin to a low whine leave your lips. "Lil one, I asked you a question. Have ya done-"

The words are cut off by your answer, a measured response where you drag the words out. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

He's heard so many people say those words through tears and with husky breaths yet the way you say it has him needing his own confession. The way your eyes look up at him with desire and pure unadulterated need have him exhaling heavily. "When was your last confession?"

It was last week, he knows because you were always so dutiful in admitting when you had done wrong. The glint he sees in your eyes tells him you hadn't admitted this before, hadn't dreamed of putting this sin into words for him and for the Lord. That devilish voice becomes just a bit deeper, a bit more pronounced.

"Last week. But- Father, I- I've been keeping this a secret. From you and the Lord." Your voice shakes even as your gaze on Father Presley is steady. "I've- I've-"

"It's alright, lil one, this- this ain't any different than the other times you've confessed, you can jus' see me now. The Lord is forgiving if you're truly repentant, darlin'. are you?" His thumb brushes against your chin and it occurs to him that if he moved it just enough he could run his thumb over your lower lip, could coax them open like he was going to feed you a wafer. "Tell me what it is."

"I've thought of you sexually." You whisper quickly and quietly, your face and body heating up as if you've caught it on fire. Is this the Lord smiting you for finally admitting what you've done? Putting into actual words your desires and wants? "I've touched myself to the thought of you, Father. Touched between my legs and cried out for you to help me."

It's not that you mean to utter such filth so quickly and with such fervor but the more the fire burns within you the more you can't help it. Father Presley's gaze is unwavering even as his jaw tightens more and more with each passing word. You swear you see his eyes becoming hooded, a dangerous glint forming as his pupils start to widen and his nostrils flare. Against your better judgment, your hand sneaks up to his jaw.

"Don't," he growls, his grip on your chin tightening as he does. "Don't touch me like that. You- you know better."

The cracks that had always been there, miniscule as they were are widening with every second the two of you are in this room. His clerical collar is choking him, tightening like a vice grip the longer your hand stays on his jaw.

"Father Presley. Forgive me, but I want to. And I think you-" Stopping yourself, you take a deep breath. "I'll repent if I can just have one time with you."

A moment is all you have to regret the words that come out of your mouth before he backs away from you like he's been burned. Shame runs through your body infecting every inch of you as you start to get up, ready to run from the room. Hiding would be an acceptable alternative than seeing the look on his face become one of pure disappointment and distaste. So busy with the thoughts in your head, you don't realize that he's moved back in front of you until his hands grab your hips.

"One night," he commands with a tone that offers no questioning. The tone he uses at the pulpit, the one that forces everyone in the church to hang on to every single word that passes by his lips. A shiver runs through your body as you start to drop to your knees despite the way he tries to keep you from doing so. "Don't- Get back up here."

A head shake is the only response he gets as your hands move to the front of his slacks, shaking as you fumble with the button and the zipper. His cock is warm to the touch and firm as your brush against it and you wonder how it's supposed to cool the fire between your legs. If anything you worry it'll stroke it even higher and higher until it burns the two of you to ash and takes the church down with you. You've gone far to back down and once his pants are finally undone, his cock springs from its confines. He hadn't worn underwear, his bare cock had been so close and yet so far from you. You've never seen one before, not up close and personal but you know from the way his thighs tighten there's something different, something that makes him nervous as you lick your lips, admiring the head of his cock trying to peek out from the skin that surrounds it like a casing.

As your hand moves to grasp at his cock, Elvis grabs your wrist and holds it tight for a moment. "It's different, I know, lil one. But-"

If the ache between your legs didn't make you want to cry from sheer desire and if you had something to truly compare it to, you're certain you would have wanted to defend Father Presley's cock, tell him that you haven't seen anything more beautiful in all your years of living. Instead you allow yourself a tentative lick, looking up through your eyelashes to see Father Presley's head lean back, eyes looking up as if to pray for salvation.

His hand drops your wrist and moves to your shoulder, clenching and holding on for dear life as you play with the slit, unsure of how to move the skin around. You mouth at his cock, spreading your spit and his not small amount of precum around it. Noises you've only ever dreamed of ripping from his mouth exit in an unending stream as his hand moves to grasp the back of your neck, pulling you off as much as he can, even as your teeth graze at his cock. "Darlin' you- You gotta move up the skin, let 'im in your mouth fully."

His grip loosens the moment your hand slides his foreskin up and without missing a beat your mouth is back on him, tongue playing with the slit of his penis, and trying to take as much of him in your mouth as you can. What you can't get into your mouth, your hand grasps, trying to make sure every moment of this is something you can remember all those nights when you won't have this, won't have him. A hand makes it way to your hair and you whine around his cock, wanting him to do something with it. The chuckle he lets out, low and practically devilish is all the warning you get before his hand yanks at the ends of your hair. If your mouth wasn't full, you're certain you'd have cried out as you grind against the floor. As it is, he still hears you, still understands what he's done and yanks again, watching as your eyes roll back in your head.

"Takin' me so well, such a good woman. Saved your mouth and everything just for me, haven't ya? Been achin' wit' no relief from that boyfriend of yours. Jus' wanted a forbidden fruit like Eve, didn't ya?" He knows the words he's saying don't make sense, that it's murmured and muttered as he focuses on the warm heat of your mouth and the feel of your tongue against his cock and tracing the veins. "Lord's pushed us too far. Couldn't- Shoulda- Been wanting to taste ya for too long. Needed ya for too long."

He shouldn't admit this, shouldn't tell you these things but it's as if the devil himself has taken over his body and filled his mouth with every sinful thought he's had of the two of you. Your thighs clench and he moves his foot in between them, trying to give you something to grind down on proper. And grind down you do, whimpering and groaning around his cock, almost seeming to bounce as you chase a release while bringing him to his own.

"Devil put us in front of each other- tempted us till we broke but this- we'll get it outta our systems. Gonna forget all 'bout this after tonight. No one but us and the Lord'll know. Won't have anythin' to 'member tonight wit'."

You nod, even as your mind tells you that's not what you want. Even as your mind tells you that you want to remember this and that you want to beg him to give you something to remember this by. That's not what you're supposed to do, what either one of you are supposed to do and yet it doesn't stop the desire and need you have for it. It doesn't stop your mind from picturing a life past tonight with him as his grip tightens once more when he yanks and your clit brushes against the toe of his shoe. You feel your orgasm slam through you at that simple brush, already overstimulated and aching and you worry you're going to stain the carpet or the leather of his shoes but looking up, you realize he won't care.

"Gonna have ya swallow, lil one. Gonna be good for ya," he groans, even as his minds supplies an image of your face and hair painted with his cum. At another drag of your teeth along the underside of his cock, your mouth fills with the salty tang of his cum. Your mouth fills with it and you have to force yourself to start to swallow quickly to avoid choking. Your eyes burn from the effort but it slows quicker than you expect, leaving you exhaling through your nose heavily and inhaling the full musk of his pubic hair. His grip on your neck is the first thing you feel as you start to come back to yourself and you let him pull you off his cock, opening your mouth when you feel his thumb against your lower lip.

"Didn't waste a drop," he whispers, patting at your neck and motioning for you to stand up. Your legs are shaky but he helps, even as you fall against his chest, so warm and inviting.

"Father-" You start to speak only to be silenced by a finger to your lips as he starts to walk both of you back to his desk.

"For tonight, it's Elvis. Let me take care of you."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour @butlersxbirdy, @precious-lil-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust, @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @doll-elvis, @whatstruthgottodowithit. i literally think i used spark's last tag list. lord help me i don't even know.

[dameronscopilot]

PLEASE can I please request Cassian x fem reader that involves thigh riding and the use of „good girl“ because I‘m a slut for this man

fell into place

cassian andor x f!reader

summary: in which a tight space and Cassian's firm thigh lead to an inevitable outcome. so maybe you don't hate him quite as much as you think you do.

word count: 1.1k

18+

content: NSFW, smut, enemies to lovers vibes, thigh riding, oral fixation, coming untouched, coming in pants, dirty talk (mentions of: unprotected sex, creampies, masturbation)

a/n: i haven't written Cassian in so long, but this idea literally tackled me to the ground and held me hostage the moment i read this ask. thanks nonnie!

Cassian Andor is the bane of your existence. 

Between his arrogant, reserved nature, his do-or-die attitude, and every stupidly handsome hair on his annoyingly pretty head. 

Fuck him. 

Fuck him and his cocky little smirks and the way he purposely let his beard grow back in just to drive you halfway out of your mind. 

Fuck the way he thinks he can show you up in every flight and blaster drill, only to still have the audacity to give you something akin to bedroom eyes when you pass him on the base late at night. The way he sometimes tilts his head when he looks at you from across the mess hall the next morning, a small smile tugging at his lips—as if he knows the muffled little sounds as you fingered yourself in the privacy of your quarters were his name. 

Over and over and over and—

Fuck his assumption that you’ll let him in, just because you’re as broken as he is. Maybe a little bit more, really. 

It’s these thoughts that are playing like a mantra in your head as you find yourself in a precarious position: wedged in a narrow, inconspicuous trench on the outskirts of an Imperial camp. With nowhere to run and your cover nearly blown in broad daylight, the two of you had no choice but to backtrack and slip into the small, overgrown, and undoubtedly long-forgotten hiding spot to wait for the safety of nightfall. 

And it would be fine—frustrating, but fine—if it weren’t for the fact that the trench was clearly made for one person.

…which is why you’re now awkwardly wedged in Cassian’s lap, straddling one of his thighs and forced to stare at his infuriatingly handsome face far closer than you’d ever allow yourself to on a normal day when you life isn't at risk.

Faced with the option of entirely wrapping your legs around his waist or plopping your ass in his lap, this had initially seemed like the safest choice. But as Cassian groans quietly at the discomfort of the hard dirt beneath him and shifts his body slightly, you quickly realize that this was a losing battle from the start. 

Cassian may look like he’s of average build on the surface, but fuck if he’s not a wall of solid muscle underneath his clothes. In your attempts to avoid eye contact with him, you find yourself distracted by the tendons in his neck, so you’re already mentally scolding yourself when you feel it—the firm, unforgiving press of his thigh against your core. 

Fuck. 

Memories of the way you’d spent the night before leaving for this mission flow into your mind unbidden, despite your best attempts to clear your head. 

Your legs spread wide across your bed, slick arousal painting the inside of your thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you. The delicious stretch of the toy as you eased it into your dripping entrance. 

—how hard you came when you closed your eyes and imagined it was Cassian’s cock splitting you open, legs trembling and fingers shaking as you screamed his name into the pillow. 

Cassian grunts, moving again, and a small gasp escapes your lips at the pressure of the material tugging against your clit. 

“Can you sit still?” you snap, heart fit to burst out of your chest as it treads a frantic beat. 

He’s silent for a moment before moving again, ever so slightly, leaving you helpless but to exhale a sound caught somewhere between a moan and a growl. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks quietly, his breath hot against your ear as you tuck your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. 

Later, you’ll blame it on the fucked up adrenaline rush from the danger surrounding you. How goddamn lonely you’ve been since you joined the Rebellion. The unfair way the rough caress of Cassian’s voice sets each and every nerve ending in your body alight. 

You can think about how much you’re going to regret this later, when you’re not trapped in a trench with a man who you’re convinced you can’t stand. A man that you spend a whole lot of time thinking about…considering how much you swear you hate him. 

Your response is a pointed cant of your hips, warmth curling in your abdomen at the feeling of your cunt freely dragging across Cassian’s thigh, your folds sliding through the slick arousal pooling in your underwear. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, carefully bringing his hands up to grasp either of your hips. The calluses on his thumbs scrape against your skin at the waistband of your pants where your shirt’s ridden up. “You’re stunning, you know.”

“But,” he adds in a low tone as you let out a choked out whine when he tightens his grip and guides your next stroke, “you’re really gorgeous like this, when you loosen the slack on that silly leash you keep yourself on.”

“Cassian,” you gasp out when he presses his hot lips to the exposed skin on your neck, kissing and nipping his way down to your collarbone.

“I know,” he whispers, “Riding my thigh isn’t enough. You need me to fill that pretty cunt.”

You whimper, fisting a hand in his hair, and he chuckles, one hand slipping under your shirt to tease at your peaked nipples. 

“I’ll fill every tight little hole of yours with my cum for when we get back to the ship, if that’s what you want.”

“Please,” you nearly cry out, almost forgetting the Imperial troops stationed nearby. 

The hand currently squeezing and kneading your breasts slips away and clamps over your mouth as Cassian gives you a warning look, and you nod, continuing to chase the pleasure building between your legs. 

His pants are probably soaked with your arousal, too, at this point. And the thought makes your cunt throb. Another desperate sound crawls up your throat ahead of your impending orgasm, and Cassian slips two fingers into your mouth. He hums in satisfaction when the only muffled noise left is the wet slide of you eagerly sucking on his fingers, a sloppy trail of drool sliding down your cheek.

And then your climax hits you so hard your vision goes white, your entire body shaking with waves of pleasure that leave you boneless.

Cassian grasps your chin as you make no secret of the way you adjust yourself to sit fully in his lap now, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You reach between your bodies, surprised to find the hard outline of his cock slightly softened now. Amusement rumbles in his chest as your fingers glide over the sticky area where he came in his pants. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he assures you, eyes sparkling with mischief before he leans in to kiss you once more.

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» CASSIAN ANDOR MASTERLIST

[nenestansunsthings]

"Hey. You're Joe Hills, right?"

The man who turns to him to looks far too normal, a casual guy with long hair and green glasses and gloves. Quackity can't imagine why they beat Wilbur. Why her people campaigned so hard for him, why they had hundreds in the lead for hours upon hours until the polls closed and Wilbur lost to her. When the guy smiles cheerfully towards him, the question only becomes more poignant.

"Yup! That's me! Joe Hills, from Nashville, Tennessee." He offers their hand to shake, and in a flash Quackity takes it. Her grip isn't strong, and he blinks in surprise when Quackity's own is firm. "And you're Quackity, right? Good job with your poll!! That was a real close win, but your people pulled through right where it mattered!"

Quackity waves it off. "I never had a doubt. Of course my fans wouldn't let me lose! I'm the sexiest red bird around here, after all!" Unbidden, his wings flutter. "But heyyy, that's not what I came here for. I came here for you! We had an alliance, didn't we? Come on, hi-five, amigo, we did well today!"

Joe blinks. "We had an alliance?"

"Uh, yeah? What, don't tell me you didn't know." He scoffs. "Your fans didn't tell you? I heard you were out there campaigning yourself. Posting shirtless videos and everything! Just my kinda guy." Cheerfully, he slings an arm around Joe, pleasantly surprised when the guy doesn't even flinch. "I thought you agreed to the alliance yourself!"

"... Oh, that alliance!" Their eyes light up in recognition. "Yeah, I saw a few people talking about that. People get really excited in my chat, y'know? Though they were pretty torn." He shrugs. "I mean, Grian's a friend of mine, even if I have no clue how he thinks. But yeah, that was all them!"

Quackity can't help but stare. "You didn't know they were allying against a friend of yours?!"

"Nope! They just kinda do what they want." Joe laughs, the sound tinged with fondness. Something in that makes Quackity's gut churn uncomfortably. They just… do that? Ally against friends? Work with people who they think will stab them in the back later? And all in the name of someone who doesn't even know what they're planning? "I think it's great that they all got together to support you! But hey, there's only one person I'm hoping will win, and you know who it is! I wouldn't be campaigning for myself if I didn't want that win."

"Ha! Yeah, I know how it is." He grins back, golden tooth gleaming brilliantly. "Don't feel too down when I thrash you, alright?"

"We'll see about that!" Normally, Quackity would be on edge from that kind of declaration, but there isn't a shred of hostility in her vice. There's only delight, friendly competition. "I have faith that my viewers will pull ahead, and that I can campaign hard enough to convince people! I've been working really hard, after all. Even bought some new rainbow eyes, just for the occasion!"

"Wait, what."

Joe blinks, and when their eyes open again they are joined by a hundred others, flickering with a thousand colours and all seeing- staring- beholding. Just before he can think the word watching, they flutter shut.

"That's not the right word for me, just to be clear," Joe chastises him. "Watching. I'm not a part of that group."

Quackity has no goddamn idea what she means. So after a moment of stunned silence, he continues.

"... Do your fans think the eyes are hot?"

"I think they're sexyman enough to win the contest," he says, which clears up nothing. "But, most importantly, I think they'd vote for me anyway! Even without my beautiful, glowing, rainbow-checked eyes. Which are, by the way, divinely beautiful, and should be appreciated."

"Hey, man, if you're the kind of guy to buy new eyes for a competition, they'd better vote for you." Quackity shakes his head. "What, did they bribe you for it? Say they'd vote for you if you blinked in rainbows? That's not a healthy relationship, man, you gotta get out of there."

Joe snorts. "No, this is all for me. But thanks for worrying! If my people ever start demanding I grow new eyes before they tip me, I'll just find new people." He waves a hand nonchalantly. "I don't think my viewers would do that, anyway."

"... Hm." Quackity hesitates, settling a few feet away from Joe. "... I dunno, man. I mean, they made that alliance without you, didn't they? Hard to think you could trust 'em after something like that. Not a lot of unity in that kind of campaign, especially if there was some kind of in-fighting about voting me over your friend."

Some tiny, tiny part of him feels a little sick at the thought. But it dies down quickly enough. This isn't the first time he's brought people to blows over loyalty, after all.

But Joe looks unbothered. "They're good people. They'll figure it out for themselves. And they understand why people would vote you over Grian, or why their friends would support you."

"Oh?" Quackity raises an eyebrow. "You talk like you've seen it yourself. Did they shake hands and make up and write songs about their reconciliation? I'd love to see that- you encourage their poetry, it looks like. They've gotta have some skills."

"Nah, nothing like that. You're thinking too big, Quackity HQ." Their sunny smile shifts, softening at the edges. "They're just friends. They don't hate each other for wanting a different person to win. If this was something important like politics- which is very important, remember to vote on both a local and national level to support what's best for your community!- then it might be different. But this is fine."

He scoffs. "Please. I've seen the posts. Some of those guys came out swinging against me."

"And they know it's an exaggeration!" she assures him. "Just look around. All across this great land of Tumblr, there are people reminding each other to be kind. To be civil. To watch whether their feelings are turning into hate, and to take a step back and breathe if things go too far. Sure, things have gone too far. But that happens in all kinds of events, not just this one. And mostly, our viewers want to be kind."

"Man. You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you." Quackity looks away. "But that's not really what I mean. It's more…"

He's not sure the words are right on his tongue. He says them anyway.

"They're supposed to be united," he tries. "I know you all wanted a Hermitsweep. Your people rule the polls. Doesn't it scare you, that they can split so much behind your back? Isn't it weird, to trust them with this?"

For a second, Joe is silent. Quackity grits his teeth, turns- but the faint green glow of his checkmarks is dim, and there's a twinge of honest fear in his eyes.

"... To be honest, it feels weird." He rests his head on their knees, fingers wrapped tight around her arms. "Just a little bit. I didn't expect this much. And the competition last round was a lot, let me tell you."

Quackity snorts. "I was there, man. No need to tell me. So much voter fraud…"

"And bribery! Don't forget bribery." Joe laughs. "But I do trust them. Whatever they do. I'll be disappointed if I lose, obviously, but it happens. It's hard to really be angry when you think about the core of all this."

"Popularity?" he jokes.

"Well, a little. I've been told Scar is not a sexyman, just a sexy man. Still not sure what criteria people are voting by. But mostly, I think it's love."

"Love?" Quackity raises an eyebrow. "What made you think that?"

Joe sighs. "I dunno. It's just… it's the only thing that it could be, really. This contest doesn't mean anything. There's no prize. All it is is just people wanting the entertainers they love most to win. And look at everything they've created for that goal."

Quackity knows. He's seen the swathes of art, the stories, the people getting out drawing tablets or phones or paper and camera to thank people who voted in their favour. He's seen old artworks shared years after their making. He's seen silly powerpoints, walls of text, analysis and promotions of videos from the starts of careers. It's a little terrifying, really, in the same way angels are.

He's pretty sure Joe would know, too.

"Yeah, not every one of my viewers joined your alliance. Even with my personal campaigning, none of them brought it up to me. But whoever they voted, whether it was Grian because he's someone they fought to see this high up or you because they wanted to share the support your people offered me, they voted out of love. Because they love me, or they love you, or they love whoever else they wanted to win."

"... They love you, huh?"

It's an odd thought. Quackity's well used to heartbreak, to abandonment. To people only staying because he had something to offer. But in this silly contest, with tens of thousands of people cheering for him…

"They love you too," Joe says with a smile. "So I'm happy you won. I'd say you're a pretty worthy opponent."

Quackity barks out a laugh, turning to Joe with fire in his eye. "A worthy opponent? You'll be taking those words back when I win. My people love me, don't they? So I'm sure as hell they'll put their money where their mouth is."

"Oh, we'll see." A thousand eyes open, turning a rainbow gaze upon him. He meets their stare head-on. "After all," Joe Hills says, "You were right about one thing. We want a Hermitsweep."