#was worried i's have a hard time drawing him. DAMN HE LOOKS WAY BETTER

[risingsunresistance]

idk if i'll be sharing the entire thing or not (if i do it'll be on main and i think i'll clean it up first) so have a sketch of my oldest splatoon oc and self insert getting hit with the aro blast jdhfh

realized it had been so long since i'd drawn him that he didn't even know... poor guy. it'll click don't worry 🙏

[margotw10bis]

Champagne Confetti. JJK [m]

boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader

Genre: smut (basically a porn with a plot)

Words: 6.1k

Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans

Warnings (be ready): live sex; rough sex; face ridding; squirting (olympics waterfall y'all); multiple orgasms (idk how oc is still alive)

Jungkook is enjoying the show. How can he not when his girlfriend has her legs wide open and enters her dripping pussy with two fingers. The pleasure makes you loudly moan and your eyes roll back. You smile brightly, looking straight with lustful eyes. You are definitely hot right now, you know it. And if you didn't, the hundred of comments in the chat would inform you.

Someone is complimenting the pink leds' reflection on your skin, another one wishes you could use the dildo you've showed a few days ago, and a new comment praises you for being 'a sweet good girl'. You smile instantly at it because you know damn well that it comes from your boyfriend. To please him, you enhance the pace of your digits entering you and pinch your hard nipple just like he likes. You're one second away from moaning his name but you know you can't, so you settle for:

"I'm playing with my little pussy just for you"

Even if Jungkook is in his couch, a few miles away from your place, he gets that you are talking to him and his hard cock twitches in his pants. He is mindlessly caressing himself through his sweatpants. You've told him a hundred of times that he could stay at your place when you work but he has declined every single time. Your boyfriend knows he doesn't have the strength to hear you pleasuring yourself a few feet away without storming in and fucking you rough. You wouldn't mind but, after a long conversation with him, you have learnt that he doesn't want to appear on camera. And you totally get it, even though you would love him to fuck you on camera.

You know that your job is not a common one and that some people are very judgmental. However, you love sex and you get paid for it. You turn on your camera, use your fingers or toys to make you cum and that's it. You know that you also please other people, so what's wrong with that? And one of the things you love the most about Jungkook is that he has never judged you. He loves you just the way you are, with all the things that come with you — including your cam girl occupation.

When you turn on your vibrator, a beautiful toy in a baby blue color, you think about Jungkook — especially since he is the one who gave it to you. You place it on your sensitive clit and your groans get louder. You are very close to cum and you know that the way you get choked up by pleasure is enjoyed by your audience because the cash is flowing.

Your boyfriend smirks from the other side of the screen. You are so fucking beautiful when your face is torn by pleasure. He absolutely loves seeing your juices dripping down your ass and land on your bed, drawing a wet spot on it. It's so fucking hot. Jungkook loves how your head rolls back when you are close to cum. But that's also why you don't see the comment that makes Jungkook's heart stop: 'I can fuck you better than your loser of a boyfriend'.

———

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Your worry is well noticeable on your face. Jungkook, despite being as sweet as ever, has grown a little... distant. At first, you thought you were imagining things but now you have no doubt. During your usual movie date at your place — you have a much bigger screen than Jungkook —, you were trying to switch your cuddling into something... else. But Jungkook has stopped your hands from reaching his crotch area. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want sex because men don't always want sex. But he doesn't even let you touch him and that has never happened during the eight months you have been together.

You are feeling stressed and sad. Did you do something wrong? Or is he leaving you like your exes because, despite Jungkook saying he is okay with your job, he might not be at the end of the day?

"Is it me?" You lowly ask, pain and unsureness in your voice

Jungkook's head immediately snaps toward you and he cups your face. He doesn't want you to be hurt just because his little ego has been bruised. It's not your fault, not at all.

"No, of course not!" He exclaims and it soothes your heart a little

"Then, tell me"

Jungkook sighs. Is it even worth saying? It's so stupid. Your boyfriend shouldn't feel threatened by a stranger on the Internet but he can't help it.

"I... There was a comment on your chat the other day" He starts and you tilt your head out of curiosity "It said that they could fuck you better than me"

You bust into laugh but quickly stop when you see no sign of humour in your boyfriend's dark eyes.

"They just talk, they feel brave behind a screen. I'm sure the guy wouldn't even make me cum. Baby, you know it's not true" You argue and settle a gentle kiss on his cheek

"No, I don't" Jungkook replies with a harsh and hurt tone, his jaws clenched

You're taken aback. You stay silent for a minute, wondering how could you make Jungkook understand that he is the best sex you've ever had. But there is not a hundred solutions. You tell him to wait until you call him.

You go to your bedroom, light up your pink leds, change your clothes for Jungkook's favorite underwear — a matching black lacy bra and thong — and prep everything for him. When everything is neat, you sit on your bed covered with pink silk sheets and call him.

Surprise is painting his face. He gulps when he notices how powerful and sexy you look right now. You pat the spot next to you on the bed to urge your boyfriend to sit, which he does. You immediately capture his lips with yours.

The kiss gets heated. You lick his rings in the corner of his lower lip and then slide your tongue into his mouth. You are quick to change position to sit on his lap and deepen the kiss. You have always loved how his tongue felt soft against you.

You grab his hands to place them on your ass and you smirk when they squeeze it. It's just a reflex, Jungkook can't control it. Neither can he control his hardening dick. You grind on it, pressing your already wet pussy against the bulge forming on his black sweatpants and rolling your hips at a sensual pace. You rest a hand on his large shoulder while the other one tugs on his black locks.

"Babe—" Jungkook tries to argue but you prevent him from talking with a bite on his lower lip, making it swollen and red

You grab the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up until you can take it off from your boyfriend's hot body. You glance at his brawny torso and run your index on the ink darkening his arm. You have always loved the tattoo on his shoulder. Your hand reaches up again to caress it before going South to his abs. You smile when you notice that your caresses cut Jungkook's breathe.

You attack his throat with your lips, settling wet kisses and bitting his thin skin. You suck on it to mark him because the purple hickeys always look so good on him. You know that you just have to tease him a little more for Jungkook to go wild, that's why you poke out your tongue and take a fat lap from his collarbone to his ear. You gently bite the lobe between two earrings and whisper :

"I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk tomorrow"

The low growl coming from Jungkook makes you shiver with horniness and you know you're going to get what you wanted. You instantly feel him spanking harshly the soft flesh of your asscheeks. You moan at the burn but you don't have time to appreciate it because Jungkook lands another slap on your left cheek. It tickles so fucking good that you have to bite on his neck to prevent a long scream of pleasure. Your pussy is so, so wet that it's staining your boyfriend's pants.

He digs his fingers so deep into the flesh of your ass that his knuckles turn white and that it'll leave bruises on your flesh. He uses his grip to spread your asscheeks and gets a full view on your two glistening holes in the mirror placed in front of your bed. Even with the dimmed light, he clearly sees how your arousal is smeared all over your cunt.

"You messy girl. Do you see how dirty you are?" He lowly growls

He doesn't wait for an answer and slaps your — already red and abused — ass. The sound of the spank echoes in your bedroom, the same way it's followed by your choked moan. How can Jungkook doubt about how good he makes you feel?

You sneak a hand on your back to undo your bra and offer a great view on your tits. You press your breasts against Jungkook's face and you feel the vibration more than you hear his moan. He leaves messy kisses everywhere on your boobs, sucking the flesh from time to time. Your head rolls back and you arch your back when he captures a hard nipple between his teeth. He is chewing on it and a pool of arousal leaks from your clenching pussy. He then roughly sucks on it, just like he would do if he wanted to suckle on a bottle.

One of his hand appears to grab your other tit, slightly slapping it too. The air gets kicked off your lungs when Jungkook suddenly bites the nipple he had in his mouth, provoking a loud whine from you. The pain mix with pleasure when he rolls his tongue around it to soothe you.

You push him on the bed so he rests his back on your mellow mattress and swiftly place your knees on both sides of his handsome face. You give him a last smile before you sit down on his face.

You feel his tongue pressing against your covered clit and you can't help but roll your hips. With a precise movement, Jungkook's inked fingers hook your thong and push it aside so he can directly access your cunt. His tongue slides up and down your slick folds and his nose bumps onto your clit. Your moans are filling your room and you have no choice but to grab your boyfriend's hair to steady yourself. You are glad that he still has long locks and only cut short the sides.

"Fuck, baby, it's so good" You groan but you get choked up when he suddenly suck on your clit "Oh my fucking god!"

Jungkook smirks against your pussy while your juices are leaking down all over his face. He grabs your ass and makes you grind on his face at a fast pace. Your brain gets foggy at the feeling of his expert tongue and nose bumping against your bud of nerves and sliding onto your vulva. You press deeper to feel more, not caring if you're suffocating Jungkook. You are too deep into pleasure to care and you know he has enough strength to push you away if he needs to. His tongue teases your entrance but never gets in, preferring rolling around your clit instead to drive you crazy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You inform him and you get closer when Jungkook digs his fingers deeper into the flesh of your ass

"Make me drink that potion" He teases against your wetness

Your arousal gets the grinding real smooth on your boyfriend's ruined face and it's fucking hot. He even jiggles his head from left to right at a quick pace to reach all the spots of your pussy, filling your bedroom with sloppy and oh so hot sounds, and you explode. You're cumming hard and the spasms of your body have rarely been so strong. You don't even have the strength to keep your upper body up and fall miserably on your bed with a goofy grin.

"Good girl" He praises

With a predator eye, Jungkook pokes his tongue out and licks your juices on his lips. It does little to clean him up because there are traces of your arousal on his chin, cheeks and nose. All his lower face is glistening with your wetness that it's fucking hot. He grabs his former t-shirt that was abandoned on your bed and wipes off his face.

"You're beautiful" You whisper, making Jungkook smile and his eyes get more affectionate

"You are more, baby" He replies and prevents you from arguing by capturing yours lips

You taste your cum on his tongue and moan in the kiss. Your hands work on his pants to push it down, along with his briefs. He is so hard right now that his cock twitches instantly when you grab it. You love how thick he is, he always stretches you well.

"I want to feel you in me" You tell him

Jungkook only replies with a nod and scoots over just the time to completely peel him naked. Your eyes travel through his perfect body, from his shoulders to his strong thighs passing through his abs. However, it's his dick that attracts you the most. You bite your lower lip and open your legs wider for your boyfriend.

You're surprised when two of his digits enter your pussy without warning. Your eyes shut of pleasure and your moans gets unsteady because of the depth and velocity of his fingering. He is shaking your whole body through your poor cunt. You are still very sensitive from your first orgasm and Jungkook is screwing deep and roughly. You can only grab your sheets and your toes curl up when Jungkook curves his fingers to pump on your g-spot.

He goes so harshly on you that you can't think anymore. You are not even aware of your screams and cum in a record time, squirting all over your boyfriend — for his greatest pleasure. You even splash your sheets and his abs.

"You are so dirty" He purrs in your ear but he is the only driving you crazy when he spreads the juices of his soaked hand on his member as he is jerking himself off

You can't believe you have cummed this hard in such a little time. It's not the first time Jungkook makes you squirt but usually it takes way more time and only appears at the end of your fuck when you have already reached your high a couple of times.

"They should see how fucked up you get when you're with me" He cockily says, referring to your viewers "You are such a little slut for me. Do you even cum with other men?"

His question is backed up with a pinch on your nipple.

"You're the only one" You reply in a whine

Your answer satisfies your boyfriend and he bends over to kiss you, way tender now. He takes place between your legs and the mess you've done allows him to enter you in a swift motion, all the way until his balls are pressed against your ass. Your moan is longer as the pleasure is traveling through your entire body. Your walls are so stretched that you wonder how you are not split in half already.

"I should fuck you on live to make this motherfucker shut his fucking mouth" He growls in your ear as he gives you the first dick strokes — deep and slow to enhance the sensuality

"You should, baby" You whisper and your walls clench around his fat cock because the idea is really arousing

As he starts thrusting into you with a quicker pace, you manage to reach his throat and suck hickeys. Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours with one of his hands while the other one roughly cups your face to give you a messy kiss, full of tongues and saliva. The way Jungkook is rolling his hips allows him to reach all the right spots inside you. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you groan his name — groan that is immediately swallowed by his mouth. Your arousal is coating his length but you have so much more that it's rolling down his balls.

He fucks you with so much force that your bed cracks but it's a problem for later. You can't think about anything else than him when he kisses the thin skin of your throat, biting it from time to time. Your legs wrap around his tiny waist to keep him close and prevent him from stopping, even through he is not planning to.

Jungkook slightly lifts up so he can see your tits bouncing in rhythm. It's so hot that he fuck you rougher just to enhance the movement and pinch a hard nipple with his fingertips. He is fucking so rawly that sweat is coving his body and is making his black strands of hair stick to his forehead. Sounds of your clapping skins fill your bedroom, creating a beautiful music for his ears, especially with your whined moans. A fun idea lightens up in his head and he wraps a hand around your throat, choking you perfectly. Your poor cunt throbs around him. Why does he have to be so fucking good? He knows you so well.

"Scream how much you love when I fuck you" He teases you but tightens the grip around your neck

It gets hard to breathe, yet along to fulfill his demand.

"Hm? Tell me, baby. I can't hear you" He smirks "Be a good girl and let everyone knows how good I fuck you"

You want to say it desperately but you can't. Only chocked moans escape your lips. But all of a sudden, Jungkook takes off his hand and gives you a particularly rough dick stroke. The oxygen rushing to your brain and the air being kicked out of your lungs make you so high on sex.

"I love it!" You scream "No one can fuck me better"

"Who's whore are you?" He cockily asks

"Yours!" You moan

"Louder" He growls, his hand settling back on your throat but not tightening too much

"I'm your whore!" You whine as you feel your walls clenching around his cock

"Good" He gives you a harsh pounding "Fucking" Another one "Girl" And another one

You love it so much that your smaller hand lands on his to urge him to squeeze your throat. Your boyfriend does it but suddenly pulls off of your throbbing dripping cunt.

"Kook!" You whine but he shhhes you and rolls his fingers hard and fast around your clit

It's so sudden and intense that your breathe gets cut and that you giggle to escape the unbearable pleasure. However, the fist around your neck prevents you from running away from his ministrations. You're wet, soaked even, and Jungkook's fingers can roll smoothly on your bud. It doesn't stop your boyfriend from spitting on it, just to make your cunt messier. Your pussy is clenching around nothing but you're close again. You have asked Jungkook to fuck you rough, and he is giving what you wanted.

His frenetic pace on your clit plays with the border of pain and you can't hold on anymore. You squirm and your body is experiencing spasms from another powerful orgasm. You grab his forearm to stop his abuse on your poor throbbing clit when the overstimulation becomes too much to handle.

"Fuck, baby" Jungkook whispers is awe, amazed by how beautiful you are when you reach cloud nine

You are panting and your brain feels like wax. You need time to recover from the intensity of the three past orgasms. You close your eyes and rest your head on a fluffy pillow.

"I'm not done with you, baby" Jungkook murmurs as he caresses your skin with the tip of his fingers, drawing goosebumps all over your body

"I need a minute" You confess as you are trying to steady your breathing "You fuck me too good"

Your boyfriend chuckles and lands a multitude of pecks on your cheek, your throat, your shoulder, your boobs and pretty much everywhere. However, you are way too much into the bliss of your post-orgasmic state to notice how your boyfriend's pierced lips are traveling South. It's only when his mouth kisses your oversensitive clit that you jolt and squeak.

His vicious tongue pokes out and slyly licks the arousal leaking from your pussy. He looks like a cat licking its milk but you know he is as lethal as a lion. You throw a — what you want to be — death stare but Jungkook smirks because, deep into your eyes, he sees your lust. You can't deny that the sight of Jungkook between your legs is sinful and perfect. But shivers run through your body when his tongue takes another lap of your ruined cunt.

"I need to clean up my little dirty girl" He purrs and swallows a little bit more of your juices "Taste so sweet, baby"

"Fuck" You moan and you instinctively open your legs a little bit wider

Thankfully, Jungkook goes gentle on you — otherwise, you are not sure you would survive.

"You don't know how much I love eating your little juicy pussy" He teases you and an airy laugh escapes your lips

"I do know, you tell me every time you do it" You explain, tenderness noticeable in your voice

Jungkook and you exchange a knowing glance, right before he buries his handsome face in your folds.

"Those guys can comment all they want" He growls against your dripping pussy, slightly nodding his head toward your set up "They'll never know how you taste"

The possessiveness in his raspy voice is arousing. You love when your boyfriend claims you over other men. He is not the jealous kind — he cannot be when you're a cam girl — but he also manages to remind you that you are his in the most perfect way: fucking.

You cup his chin with your hand to force Jungkook to look at you. Seriousness paints your face when you tell him:

"I don't want anyone else than you. Do you understand?"

Jungkook nods and happiness fills up his chest, spurring him to capture your lips — the upper ones this time. You both smile in the kiss but your sneaky hand finds its way to Jungkook's cock. You jerk him off slowly, appreciating his velvety — yet sticky with your juices — skin.

"Get on your knees" He commands against your swollen lips

You get on all fours and arch your back like you know Jungkook loves it and swing your ass from side to side. Your boyfriend gets to see how wet you still are despite his little cleaning. He lands a rough slap on your ass and squeeze your cheeks.

He then wraps his hand at the base of his hard and thick cock and guides it to your entrance. He teases a little, hooking his tip in your hole just to poke it out. He does it a couple of times, hoaxing a begging from you to finally fill you up.

You gasp when he enters you all the way. You can feel him so deep when he fucks you from behind. It's like his fat cock is stretching you even better. Jungkook digs his fingers into the flesh of your asscheeks and spreads them to fully admire how your little cunt takes his dick, coated it with your arousal at the same time.

"Fuck, baby..." He hisses in bliss

His dick strokes are not gentle, making you jolt at each single one of them. You burry your face in your sheets to mitigate as well as you can your loud moans. Drool is leaking from your open mouth and you realize that your boyfriend is fucking you dumb. The thought is so pleasant that you clench around him.

"You pussy is so tight" He growls and he accompanies his words with a spank on your already red and bruised ass

Jungkook goes further in sins when he lifts up his thumb to his mouth to coat it with spit and smudges it on your pucker hole. You gasp and feel a wave of arousal when he pushes his digit into it. Fuck, it's so hot... The intrusion is so fucking good, making your pussy even wetter — it's now just a big pool of your juices. Your walls clench sporadically around him, notifying him how much you love it. It's no secret anyway, Jungkook has already fucked your ass in the past.

You love hearing how his sweaty skin is clapping against yours, and you love feeling your ass getting slapped by his lap at each pounding. Your boyfriend has to hold you tight to prevent you from falling on your bed. Your arousal creates some sticky threads connecting your two bodies, disappearing when he bottoms up and drawing new ones when he pulls off to the tip. Jungkook curses when he looks at it. It's fucking hot...

"You make me do all the work, you little slut" He complains

He halts his movements. You know what he wants but you also know that his order is arousing so you wait for it.

"Come on, fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are" He whispers lowly but his cockiness pierces in his voice "Show me how much you want it"

Jungkook feels your walls clenching and it paints a smirk on his lips. He watches you pushing your ass back to swallow his dick and then moving forward to the tip, just to push back again. Your pace is rough and you make sure to harshly hit his pelvis when you take his member deep into you. You look like a maniac, empaling yourself on his thick cock, but you can't think about it because you love it too much. Your cunt is throbbing from the past orgasms and is sensitive from all the poundings and yet, you want more.

Your boyfriend knows you way too well. He sneaks his inked hand in your hair and harshly tugs on it, forcing you to lift up your upper body and rest your back against his brawny chest. Your scalp hurts in the most delicious way and your tits bounce when Jungkook takes control of the thrustings. You look up and smirk when you notice your set up in front on you. This insane, animalistic and perfect fuck all began because of this... You should thank your fans because Jungkook has never fucked you this good.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and sucks more hickeys on your already redden and purple skin. The hand that was in your hair travels down to wrap your throat while the other one, sly, reaches your clit. You gasp when Jungkook starts circle motions on your bud.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!" You say in a breathe when you feel your cunt clenching

Despite the tightening of your walls, you are so aroused that your juices are dripping down in your inner thighs, making a mess of Jungkook's cock too.

"You are such a good fucking whore for me" He whispers in your ear, biting your lobe too

Your hands try to handle on his strong forearm as your sloppy pussy gets ruined by your boyfriend's poundings and his raw pace. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, your mouth falls open, your cunt throbs and your breathe gets cut off as his expert fingers on your clit drive you closer to the edge. You are so close, you know it and Jungkook knows it too. That's why he fucks you even rougher, earning some whines from you, and bites your neck, marking you in all the possible ways.

You almost passed out when you cum as white dots paints your vision.

"Baby!" You moan, scream or whisper — you can't know

Thankfully, Jungkook firmly holds you against him, otherwise you would be falling miserably on your bed since your forces abandon you at the same time the wave of pleasure washes over you. Your walls throb and your lower stomach contracts as you squirt again, ruining your silk pink sheets and Jungkook's cock. Your whole body is shaken by spasms due to the power of your orgasm. Why does you boyfriend love so much pushing your limits? Because he knows that you love it just as much.

"Such a dirty girl" He purrs in your ear but you barely register it since you are still in the fog "Look at the mess you have made"

To accentuate his words, he lifts up the hand that was on your clit at the level of your face and shakes it. Drops of your cumming fly all around.

"Rain, rain, rain" He laughs lowly, not thrusting anymore but keeping his hard cock deep inside you "You can't fake it"

You want to reply something, like that you would never do it and that Jungkook really does fuck you good, but you have cotton mouth.

"Look at how fucked up you are!" He mocks you "And this motherfucker thinks he can fuck you better?" His low laugh is full of cockiness but it's the truth

His wet fingers caress your lips and you part them out of instinct. Jungkook takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with his digits and watches in awe how well you suck on them. You hum at your taste and appreciate being able to drink something.

"My sweet good girl" He says gentler, kissing your cheek

"Baby, I don't know if I can take it anymore" You confess, turning your head to look at his handsome face

You can spot the affection in his doe eyes.

"Just one last time and I'm gonna fill your little pussy up. I promise"

His words are raw but his tone is soft, just like the kiss he settles on your lips. You nod and his big palm comes up to caress your cheek. It soothes you and allows you a moment of peace before the big finale.

Jungkook circles your frame with his strong arms and falls on his back with you. The surprise makes you squeak and you could laugh if his cock buried in your cunt wasn't making you moan instead.

You dig your feet in the mattress on both sides of his thighs, takes supported on his pecs with your hands and start some ups and downs on his length. His tip is perfectly hitting your g-spot and if Jungkook wasn't helping you to settle a quick pace with his hands on your hips, you know that your legs would crash down because of the pleasure.

It feels so good to have him this deep inside you. Your tits bounce and your moans get lost in your bedroom. Your boyfriend turns his head to the side to get a peak at you fucking yourself on his fat cock in the mirror.

"Fuck, baby, you're so hot" He praises you and you thank him with a squeeze of your cunt

His thumbs caress your skin at the same time. The movement is slight but you manage to feel it. It does some weird tricks in your chest and you quicken your pace. The only problem is that the marathon of orgasms Jungkook's put you through seriously decreases your stamina. It's getting very hard for you to jump on his cock, even though you absolute love the way he is filling you.

"Baby..." You whisper in a breathe "Need you..."

You don't have to finish your sentence because Jungkook understands.

"I got you" He reassures you

He makes you rest your back on his chest, wraps arms under the back of knees to get a full access to your cunt — making you tighter in the process as your thighs are pressed against each other — and firmly plants his feet on your bed. His poundings are so harsh that your head rolls back and no sounds escape your open mouth. You almost faint because of the pleasure provided by his dick strokes in your tight and swollen cunt.

"Fuuuuck" You whine

Tears are gathering at the corners of your eyes. Jungkook is fucking you too good for your own sanity. The way his thrustings are accompanied by loud skin clapping sounds is fucking arousing. Your juices are dripping down your ass to create a mess on your boyfriend's balls.

"Oh my god!" You moan when rough slap hits the side of your ass

Your toes curl and your brain gets foggy: you know you are close. There have been too many orgasms for you to count and you have now no strength to delay them. Jungkook has turned into a fuck-machine, leaving no rest for your poor pussy. You are amazed by his stamina.

"Are you going to tell them who fucks you good?" He purrs

"You fuck me good! So fucking good, baby" You exclaim in a state of euphoria

Your voice is even shaking because of his poundings — that's how much he is ruining you. You sob at his raw dick strokes, you are way more sensitive than usual.

"I'm gonna fuck you on live and everyone will know who's little slut you are. Isn't it that right, baby? Do you want me to ruin you in front of the whole Internet?" He teases you

"Oh, fuck yes!"

"Good girl" He praises, quickly pecking your shoulder

"Kook, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

You can't finish your sentence that you explode once again. Only this time, Jungkook enhances his pace which makes you squirt for some long seconds and you wonder if you will ever gonna stop.

"Don't stop!" You urge him while you are sobbing

Your boyfriend swipes your pussy at a rapid pace with his hand to extend your cumming and to make a bigger mess with your juices splashing everywhere. You can't hold back your scream of pleasure. You have never cummed so hard and God knows that you know what you are talking about.

"Champagne confetti" Jungkook laughs when the waterfall ends

"Please, cum" You beg him

The tiredness is noticeable in your voice. You can't take it anymore and his poundings are painful despite the remaining pleasure.

"I'm close, baby, just hold on a little bit more"

Jungkook frees your legs and you rest your feet on his strong thighs helping him to ruin you. His inked hand cups your face and turn it to his. He captures your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your moans. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't know what is reality anymore. The only thing you are sure about is him.

"Fill me up" You whisper against his pierced lips

You can only feel him nod and, with a last powerful dick stroke, he buries his cock deep inside you and releases his seeds inside you. You sigh in content and Jungkook whispers some soothing compliments. He hugs you tight but you are too tired to do anything.

Your sheets, just like your cunt, are ruined and soaked with your juices. You roll on your side and Jungkook's cock pulling off your pussy causes his white cum to leak. You don't really care anyway.

"Are you okay? Was I too much?" Jungkook worries as he witnesses your exhausted state

"It was good, baby" You reassure him but keep your eyes closed

You sneak against him and hug him as tight as you can with a weak body. You hear his beating heart in his chest as you rest your head on it. You hum, so happy to have him in your life. Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head.

"I have to tell you something" You murmur "Promise you won't be mad"

"I promise"

"Before I called you, I turned on a live... So everyone did see us fucking" You confess, hoping that Jungkook won't feel betrayed or anything

"I know. I saw the red light of your camera"

You lift up your head and witness some playfulness in his eyes. You offer him a bright smile and kiss him passionately. Fuck, you are so lucky to have Jungkook. His hands land on your bruised ass. You scoot over and turn to the camera. You look fucked up — and you are indeed. A smirk paints your lips and you look straight into the camera lens.

"No one can fuck me better than him" You announce and end up the live 

[delphi-shield]

:// sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ғᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ / ʙɪʟʟʏ.ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ

Billy Butcher x Reader smut, hurt/no comfort wc: ~5.2k mdni read on ao3 digging the worms out of my brain real quick since i finally caught up with the boys. idk i think i worked through something personal with this, so like, that's a win for me.

summary: Butcher knows better than to be fucking around with you, but there's 50 quid in it for him if he gets you to call him 'daddy'. Easy money.

content: s4 spoilers, dubcon, butcher's pov, an exorbitant amount of kessler in the first half, age gap, general sleazy behavior, handjob, finger fucking, piv, pussy slapping, some just the tip action, blowjob, mentions of titfucking, degradation, general objectification, public sex, not proofread.

“Makes you realize men have nipples too.”

The bar is packed for a Wednesday night, but Butcher already knows exactly what Kessler is talking about. You’re a ditch lily, sitting tall in this shithole. He turns his head away, pretends he doesn't see the way you lick up a trail of spilled cosmopolitan from the side of your glass, pink tongue parting your lips, eyes half-shut. 

Fucking typical. Kessler could sniff out daddy issues and sadness from a mile away, and he was lethal at half that distance. He could have them wrapped around his finger in the time it took Butcher to take a piss.

His eyes linger. A thing like you doesn't belong in a dump like this. This is the sort of place girls like you stumble into at 1 AM, survey the crowd through the haze of cigarette smoke, and wobble right back out onto the streets, take your chances with the elements rather than the haggard, unfriendly crowd that hunches over their drinks.

Butcher likes Midwest 10's. Begs Kessler to stop ogling barely legal co-eds, says he's not some sleazy cunt in a John Hughes film. He can lie all he wants. If it makes him hard, it makes Butcher hard. 

He glances sidelong at your face. You've got this Christmas-light bright smile that makes his dick jerk. Kessler’s more than under his skin. He’s in his veins, in the same blood that raises his cock up like a goddamn bicycle pump when you lean over the bar, arms squeezing your tits together.

"You could probably fuck 'em." Kessler tips his head to the side, eyes locked on your cleavage. His eyes narrow, lips pursed, evaluating your chest and charting a course for his dick to travel.

"Shut up."

"Huh?"

Fuck. Your tip your head to the side from two seats away, brows pinched together. Cute, in a lost little lamb kind of way.

Butcher's eyes cut to Kessler. He's cocked it all up now. The sly, punchable grin on Kessler’s face turns him back to his drink. He drains his glass and gestures for another. If he doesn’t look at you, if he keeps drinking, this all goes away.

"Nothin'. Don't you worry about it, love."

That should be the end of it, but you’ve clearly got something wrong with you. You fiddle with your purse, pluck up your courage, and drop yourself onto the barstool next to him. Whether you’ve got no sense of self-preservation or you’re just that damn oblivious, he doesn’t intend to get to know you well enough to find out. Butcher's strained smile doesn't do much to smooth the worry lines away.

Kessler chuckles, leans back and props his elbows up on the bar. Cunt just wants to watch him squirm.

"No," Kessler corrects, drawing the word out. "I want you to get some pussy."

His eyes dart over to Kessler, looming over you, hands ghosting up your arms to squeeze your shoulders. He blinks rapidly, rubs at his face, tries to play it off like he's nervous or tired or whatever the fuck but when he looks down, there's your tits again. Butcher lolls his head back to the ceiling. Laugh it up, you fuckin’ cunt.

And Kessler does. Makes a show of slapping his hand on his thigh, head knocked back, grinning toothily.

He tries to ignore you, but you’re straddling that stool next to him in your little skirt and ordering another cosmo. This isn’t the kind of bar for cocktails, and he knows without even seeing the bartender’s eye roll that he hates you.

It's none of his business. He ought to keep himself sat there drowning in his drink ‘til last call and past that, make them throw him out on the street, give him a reason to swing first. It's a better idea than messing with you.

The bartender drops your drink off in front of you and turns before the words ‘thank you’ leave your glossy lips. Another sickly pink cocktail with a dried out lime dropped on top. Butcher can’t help himself. He’s got a soft spot for the clueless.

“Cheery bloke, isn't he?” He says, casting a sidelong glance at the bartender. He taps a finger against the bartop, inclines his head toward your cocktail. “That the only drink you know the name of?”

Your cheeks warm. You hide it behind a hand, turning your face away from him to laugh.

“What? No. I just think they taste good.”

Kessler snorts. “That’s a fat load of shit.”

Butcher agrees. His mouth twists into a half-hearted smile. He slides his glass over to you. 

“Try it,” he insists.

There’s hardly a passing thought for your own safety. You look between his scotch and his face and seem to decide it’s safe to take drinks from strange old fucks in bars. Your fingers brush his when you take the glass, warm and soft - sticky. You must be more sloshed than you look, must keep spilling your drinks. Hell, for all he knows, maybe this place does make the best cosmo in the city. Maybe the bartender just hates your ass because you keep making a mess.

You don’t even ask what he’s drinking. (Maybe this is all a grift, he thinks. Kessler’s at his ear, chuckling - she ain’t bright enough for that.) You lift his glass and leave your lipstick behind.

“Oh my god.” You sputter, pound a fist against your chest. It makes your tits bounce. Fucking miracle your shirt is containing those things. “That tastes like ass.”

“That is the highest quality scotch this bar serves.”

“It tastes like someone put a cigarette out in a glass of whiskey.”

“It’s a shit bar.”

You laugh, head tipped back, nose scrunched - the works. You’re too tipsy for it to be on purpose. Being cute comes naturally to you. Must be how you’ve made it this far.

You pass his drink back and scoot your cosmo closer to you, spilling it as the glass skips over the pock-marked countertop. Butcher snorts, dabs it up for you with his sleeve. He’s starting to think his theory about the cosmopolitans might hold true.

“Well, here, a trade’s a trade.” He takes your drink by the stem (fucking amazed they even have martini glasses in this place) and pounds back a mouthful.

It isn’t that bad, but he makes a show of scrunching his nose and shaking his head. He slides your drink back over to you and mirrors the way you had clung to your drink.

“You’re kidding,” you laugh. “It’s better than yours. I don’t know how you drink that.”

“I’ll keep my liquid ashtray, thanks.”

Your eyes are all lit up when you smile, but it emphasizes the raw edges, the puffiness that lingers. Rough night for you, by the looks of it. Not like he’s having much of a better one.

There’s no harm in it. No harm in showing you what a proper drink tastes like, broadening your horizons and helping you both forget what a shit hand you’ve been dealt. He buys you a drink on the condition that you try something that isn’t a cosmopolitan. You can hardly stomach a whiskey and coke. He orders you a fernet and coke for shits and giggles, expects you to spit it out like all the rest, barks out a laugh when you declare it’s tasty, notes of lavender drawing you in. Notes of lavender - Christ, what fucking suburb did you pop out of? 

He introduces you to more drinks, leans closer with each empty glass. You're new here, you tell him. You tell him your name, too, not that he remembers. Got stood up on some shitty date. He knows it’s got to be shitty because what idiot in his right mind would take you here, of all places?

By the time he orders you both shots of Rumple Minze, you’re pressed shoulder to shoulder. Your hand splays against his chest, head leaning against him. You lift his shot to his lips for him and he’s too drunk to find it childish and irritating. He downs it and does the same for you, watches you extend that pretty neck to drink it down.

“I’ll get you a cab,” he slurs, rocking unsteadily to his feet.

“I already called an Uber.”

Jesus. It’s a struggle not to roll his eyes. Fucking kids. Allergic to one night stands, couldn’t take a hint to save their life. Even Kessler is on his side, his head thunking against the bartop.

It's for the best, he thinks, trying to curb his disappointment. He's got shit to do. Ryan to worry about. Kessler's a right cunt, pushing him to you. He hasn't got the time to be fucking about. This entire thing had been a waste of time, too busy trying to get his dick wet to make the most of what he’s got left.

Butcher stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat, steps back, ready to split and stumble his way back home. He nods quick and sharp, tight-lipped smile to keep his frustration locked behind his teeth.

You show him your phone, make him squint to see what he’s supposed to be looking at. “My Uber is still a couple minutes away, so…”

Kessler picks his head up from the bar. He's a bloodhound for pussy. He picks up the leading edge in your voice before Butcher’s even done parsing your words.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Kessler drones. “You can’t even get it up, can you?”

“I’m damn well going to try.”

“What?” You laugh, swaying on your feet.

Butcher wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you against his side. “Nothin’. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll keep you company. Make sure no nasties try to get you.”

The cold outside is bracing. You wrap your arms tight around yourself and this time Butcher’s too drunk to pretend he isn't staring at the way your tits press together.

It’s your idea. Really. The way you look up at him, the way your lips stay parted while the pair of you pace the sidewalk. You wrap your hand around his bicep and squeeze, eyes drifting slowly to the side, to the alleyway just a few strides away.

See? It’s your idea, honest. He drags you behind a dumpster, pins you to the wall of the alley, and shoves his tongue down your throat, yeah, but you moan so fucking loud and drag him closer. It takes longer than he'd like for your hand to stop massaging his chest and start fondling his cock, but you're a sweet girl - don't seem the type to do this too often. Need some guidance.

Butcher lays his hand atop yours, wraps your fingers tighter around his bulge. Your breath hitches, your eyes flicking down to your hand, mouth popped open - got this sweet, vacant little look in your eye.

He'd bet real money you go dumb for cock.

“$50 says you can get her to call you ‘daddy’,” Kessler pipes up, leaning against the wall next to you. He tips a cigarette into his mouth, cups a hand around to light it, and Butcher swears the light from his zippo gleam in your eyes. He doesn’t doubt it. Seems cruel, though, especially when he can’t remember your name.

“What was your name again?”

It takes a bit for you to get dick off your mind and fish around for your name. You mumble, make him lean in close and tilt his head to get you to say it again, clearer.

You're the obedient sort. Pick up on cues so easy. Don't even make him ask for it again. He pats your cheek, smirk creasing his face.

By your side, Kessler flashes a crisp $50. He plucks it taut, fans himself with it, makes a real show of being a dick while you try to take Butcher's out of his pants.

At the end of the day, 50 quid is 50 quid.

“How ‘bout you ask daddy for permission, sweetheart?”

Your mouth moves wordlessly.

“Please?”

He clicks his tongue. “That’s real polite. But it ain’t what I asked for, is it?”

“Can I please play with your cock, daddy?”

“Better.”

Kessler slips the fifty into Butcher’s coat pocket while you fumble with his belt and free him from his pants. You lay his cock in the seam of your hands, cupping him like he’s a gift on two legs. You stroke him reverently, look up at him with big, thoughtless lamb eyes.

Your heart’s in it, but you’re too reserved for his taste. He grips your hand in his and guides you down his cock, shows you when to squeeze, when to twist your wrist, how to flick your thumb over the slit of his tip.

He can never make it last when he drinks. Should have warned you before he came on your pretty skirt, but you’ve got a natural talent for stroking dick. He keeps his groan locked up tight. It rattles through his chest and he leans into you, crushing you against the wall of the alley. His hips stutter and rut into your hand, still wrapped around him, coaxing every drop from his tip. You still toy with him while he tries to catch his breath. He’s got to push away from you with a mumbled “Christ, all right, that’s enough.”

It’s like he’s taking your favorite toy away. You pout up at him, hand still molded for his cock by your side, by the skirt his ruined with his cum. He almost gets an apology out, but you drag a finger through his mess and bring it to your lips, make a show of licking it up.

His chest aches. He isn’t sure if it’s the tumor or his heart desperately trying to pump enough blood down to his dick to get him up again.

Butcher crams two fingers into his mouth and scrapes the dirt from beneath his nails with his teeth. The rest is a blur. He knows that he kicks your feet apart, traces your slit through your panties before he pushes them to the side and finger fucks you until your head snaps back against the wall. It’s quick, messy - leaves his forearm soaked. He’s not so sure that was real, but he’s too drunk to figure it out, too gone ask.

He tucks himself back into his pants. You set your panties back in place, skirt still hiked up to your ribs. You slip a little lower down the wall, panting. He stops you before you can slip all the way down, pats your cunt, and tugs your skirt back into place.

“Let’s get you a cab, eh?”

That’s the last thing he remembers clearly. You’d missed your Uber, had to take a cab with him anyway. He remembers you leaning against him, tucked up against his side, hand stroking his chest. He’d pet your hair - soft as lamb’s wool - and whispered nonsense against your head just to get a laugh out of you. After you get out, the whole thing’s blank.

When Butcher wakes up at 2 PM the next day, choking on his own vomit, he can't find the 50 quid. He turns his jacket inside out searching for it. A scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it falls from his jacket pocket. He doesn’t spare it more than a glance and keeps digging for his wallet.

Lambs lose their appeal after the flying cunts nearly bit his cock off.

That farm had been dirty business. Wicked stuff, the kind that doesn't wash off. This work always has been, but this time the blood doesn't come out from under his fingernails. He tastes bile every time he breathes. The copper twang of blood trickling down the back of his throat is the only chaser he gets anymore.

He doesn't think of you often. He knows it'd break your little heart to hear it, have you looking up at him with those ‘fuck me, I'm sad’ eyes and that little girl pout that makes him feel every bit the lech he is. You’re a sweet thing. Vacant, just like him. It didn’t take long to piece that together.

You’re easy and malleable, quick to fit yourself around him in whatever way he demands. He liked that about you at first.

But when he calls on you at three in the morning for a quick lay and you answer the door in a full face of make-up, hair done and wearing the sort of nightgown that no one actually sleeps in, all he feels is distaste.

You let him crowd you against your couch (a neutral color, no blanket in sight, your living room just as blank as the rest of you) without so much as a ‘hello’. You hook a leg over his hip. No panties, he realizes, eyes locked on your drippy cunt, already flushed. Been touching yourself to the thought of this. He warms a little at the thought.

Butcher wedges his knee between your leg and grinds. Any warmth you’d kindled with wet pussy dissipates the moment you moan so goddamn loud, the sound hollow and plastic. He keeps his leg still, flexes his thigh for you to grind on. His jaw tightens. He nearly shoves his fingers in your mouth to keep you from making those stupid fucking noises.

You let him twist you up however he wants, more a posable toy than a person. He pushes you further along the couch until your back arches awkwardly against the arm. You don't protest. Of course you don't.

His thick fingers trail down your slit, part your slick folds for his inspection. He sways back on his haunches, admires the pretty way he's got you arranged, pinned open on his fingers for him.

He brings his hand down sharply on pussy once, twice - and the third time directly to your clit is just because you kept making that annoying fucking noise. That nasally, porn-star whine that drills him between the eyes and makes his hard-on flag. The way you twitch and jerk at each hit might be genuine but that fucking noise drives him up a wall. Christ, there's got to be something about you that's real.

Pussy’s real. Can’t fake that, he thinks.

“Stay right there,” he says, a bite to his voice when you try to shift against him again. If you could just lay there and take it - is that so much to ask for?

He guides himself to you, hips rocking experimentally. You suck his head in and his chin dips to his chest. He groans deep. It turns to a growl when you raise your hips. He lays his forearm against you, pressing you down - and that moan might have been real.

“Can't you do fucking anything right?” He snaps. His hips push forward, bullying himself deeper into you. You suck a breath through your teeth, your hand bracing against his forearm. “I told you to stay right there.”

A spark of indignation flickers in your eyes, flash-fire flushed out by the same pitiful little lamb wool you pull back over your eyes. Makes you look all downy, plush and fuckable - he's fished more respectable shits from the toilet.

You’re a good girl for a few more shallow thrusts, lay there just like he wants while he works himself to the hilt. He finds his rhythm sloppily, one knee propped on the couch, the other foot planted on the floor. Your tits bounce with every thrust and he’s stupid enough to take his hands off of you, trust you not to move while he gropes at your breast.

Immediately you rise to your elbows, try to arch your back deeper. He’s positive you’re trying to mimic some video, down to the exact angle of your spine, but your heart isn’t in it. His cock butts against your walls, shallower than before, the pleasure that had been tearing through his blood coming to a screeching halt. He hisses through his teeth, grinding out his frustration.

“Don't –” his shoves you back down, hand flattening against your cheek and pushing your face into the couch. Feels fucking awful any other position. “–fucking move. Don't fucking move. Trying to cum. Goddammit.”

Your hands curl into fists by your head. You hide your face, press it deeper into the cushion and he presses your face deeper to help you. The noise you make is pitiful, but at least it's real.

Fucking hell. Now he’s completely out of it. You’ve gone and fucked up pussy for him. He didn’t think that was possible. He can’t find the angle he needs, can’t get back to that gummy spot that make his vision blur.

He pulls out and flips you onto your stomach, ignoring the little whine you make. You don’t raise your hips - god forbid you take a fucking hint - so he sits you up for him and wedges his dick back in. It only takes a few thrusts for him to realize this is worse. Tighter, dry, chafing his dick like goddamn sandpaper.

“Your cunt shrivel up or something? Feels fucking terrible.”

He snatches your wrist, pulls your arm back at an angle that makes you cry out, and fills your palm with lube. Can't even get wet on your own. Fucking Christ, he's got to do everything for you. Even has to curl your fingers around his cock, drag your hand back and forth until you final get the big, swinging fucking hint and jerk him off.

He meant to stuff himself back into your cunt, but at this point your hand will do. Six one way, half a dozen the other. At least your hand doesn't chafe.

You’re silent now. Small mercies. The only sounds are the slick of your palm working him over and his labored breaths. Your hand is clumsy at this angle, but he’s not going to risk letting you move and fuck it all up again.

Once he’s close, he drops your hand and flips you onto your back again. A big hand presses your knees apart, opens you up for him. You're still so pliable, even if the sheen is gone from your cunt. You try to fix your hair. If he notices the tears brimming your eyes, he doesn't say anything.

He lines himself back up with your cunt, dragging himself through your folds. Your knees knock closer with each pass of his bright red tip over your clit. He taps it once with his cock, expecting another produced moan to rattle the walls, but you only whimper, your thighs trying to close around him.

Butcher smirks. He pumps himself into you, keeps himself shallow - just the tip past your puffy lips. 

You whimper, try to shuffle down and take more of him. Butcher’s hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks so hard it stings.

“Don't you fucking move,” he grits out. You used to take instruction so well. Now you've gotten all up in your own head. Nobody likes an uppity bitch, he ought to make you see that.

What he really ought to do is make you get down there and jerk him off. Your hand is still slicked, but you'd probably piss yourself at the chance. Instead, he pushes your knees damn near up to your ears and barks for you to hold your own legs. Your hands curl around the backs of your knees. There you go. Figuring it out again.

His hand strokes his dick quick and hard, one hand dedicated to keeping himself just inside you. It doesn't take long for him to cum. It’s a slow burn that seeps up through his belly, lattices up his ribs and congeals in his chest, makes him ache and cave over your body while his hips sputter. He squeezes himself dry, pumps his cum into your pussy until it flows past his tip and seeps down onto your couch. 

Butcher lingers over you, catching his breath. He’s already gone soft, his cock dropped out of you. He sits back against the opposite arm of the couch, splays himself out while you curl up.

Something burns in his chest - remorse, maybe. You’re all curled up against your couch, cheek cushioned on your arm - won’t look at him, don’t paw at him or lean against his side, don’t even reach to clean yourself up.

His head knocks back to the ceiling. He can’t be bothered to pull answers out of you. He reaches for the tissue box on your coffee table, plucks a handful, and cleans himself off.

He tosses the box back to the coffee table and shoves his boots back on, barely taking the time to lace them up properly. He scoops he coat up from where you’d shucked it onto the floor, buttons himself back up, and you still haven’t moved. His eyes linger on you for a moment, brow set low.

Can’t be bothered, he reminds himself. He runs a hand through his hair and makes for your door, boots thunking heavily against your floors.

“Can I see you again?”

You’ve managed to pick your head up when he glances back at you. You sound so desperate it's pitiful. His lip curls. He runs a hand over his head, looks anywhere but you.

Christ, even your apartment is blank and devoid of personality. He hadn't noticed it before, too consumed with the need to get between your thighs. He shrugs, and gives you a lifeless smile.

“We'll see.”

Butcher closes your door behind him and hurries down the hall. He turns the corner to see Kessler’s cheshire grin greeting him in the dark of your stairwell.

He ought to get right with you before his time comes. He isn't proud of the way things ended. Butcher’s a right bastard, but he isn't blind; he'd seen the look on your face, the hopeful shine in your eyes dulling when he'd left you there without so much as a ‘cheers, love, thanks for the rub’.

He doesn't bother texting you. He's already posted up outside your apartment. Giving you a heads up would only give him time to pussy out.

Besides, you're home. He knows it. You’re piss-easy to track. Home to work, work to home, same route, same time. It will be easy to knock on your door, get his closure, and slip out of your life for the last time.

It should be easy. He’s had harder conversations with people who meant more to him but he keeps staring at your door, trying to will himself to knock. He’s not that weak yet. He can still raise his hand.

Butcher turns to leave just as you open the door. His shoulders tense when you call out to him.

“Billy?” You blurt out. There’s genuine surprise there.

“I just thought I’d –” He turns to catch a glimpse of you and it sends him headlong into silence.

You look a right mess. No face isn’t done up, an oversized t-shirt draping off your shoulders. Your pajama pants are fluffy, snowflake print - tackiest thing he’s seen in a while. 

You duck your head down, trying to catch his eye. 

“You okay?” You hook your thumb over your shoulder. “Want to come in?”

He doesn’t. Not even a little. He wants to rip the band-aid off, forget he ever met you and let you get on with your life - whatever it is you do. But you step to the side and fix him with a weak little smile that he thinks might be real, and his feet take him in through the door.

It’s a nice place in the daytime, he realizes. Natural sunlight, open floorplan, your shelves crowded with plants and knick-knacks he’s never seen. You offer him a drink, laugh when he says water and fall quiet when he insists.

You hand him his drink and collapse onto your couch. Your legs kick up onto your coffee table, and for the first time he realizes your socks are fuzzy, too. He looks around, scans you from head to toe. Is this the right place? He keeps picking at his nails, trying to free the grime from under them.

Once you realize he’s baffled, you’re merciful enough to start the small talk. It’s awkward and stilted - his fault, his answers halting and quick. You give him grace, sip on your drink. Your laughs never quite reach your eyes, but you scoot closer to him on the couch anyway.

“Why are you really here, Billy?” Your hand settles on his thigh and curls inward.

It’s not how he wanted this to go, but he doesn’t stop you from sliding your hand higher while he chokes on his words. You’ve got his belt undone by the time he manages to string a sentence together.

“I've been a right cunt to you.”

“Mhm.”

“You don't got to put up with it, yeah?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Got your whole life right ahead of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Fucking Christ, could you give him more than a noise? A few moments ago you’d held a conversation with him.

His irritation is snuffed out by your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock and sucking hard. Your hand pumps his shaft, twisting your wrist on the way back up. Good God, you learn quick.

Butcher could spoil you rotten if he had the time. He could get you whatever you wanted - if ever you wanted for anything. He cups a hand over the back of your head, encouraging, not guiding.

You’re methodical. You let your hand work what your mouth won’t reach, fondle his balls with the other one. It’s clinical. You’ve committed the moves to memory, when to swirl your tongue, hollow your cheeks, when to moan around him, when to look up at him with those tears straining at your waterline.

He finishes quick, his chest heaving. You pass him his water while you reach for a tissue box. He drains it and nearly misses you spitting his cum into a tissue, wadding it up and tossing it into the bin.

“I haven’t got much time left,” he says, breathless.

Your brow creases. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your lips swollen. “What?”

“I’ve got this –” he gestures nebulously with a hand, like he’s trying to pluck the right words out of the air. “– thing. In my brain, see? Inoperable. So, if I up and vanish on you, it ain’t personal.”

You stay silent, stone faced. He wishes you’d say something. Even one of the irritating platitudes people like to parrot would be better than this. Your eyes harden. You purse your lips, breathe deep, and stand from the couch.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, Billy. It was good to see you.”

Butcher’s still trying to catch his breath. He tucks himself back into his pants, a mess he’ll clean up later, and rises unsteadily. You don’t reach out to help. He makes another nebulous gesture towards you, his hand quivering.

“You want me to..?”

“Nah. Don’t strain yourself.”

He stuffs himself back into his coat, watching your eyes linger - maybe realizing for the first time how much slighter he’s looking. Butcher pats your cheek gently as he passes by.

You don’t ask to see him again. For your sake, he hopes this is the last time.

[luna0713hunter]

I'd die for you

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : when Zoro is injured by Hawk Eyes,you cant help but to worry about him.

Warnings : none really, basically hurt/comfort,mentions of injuries and fear of losing the person you love aka Zoro, bickering couple

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

"Wow," Sanji breaths, "Just,wow..."

You let out a whine and hide your face in your hands.

"Sanjiiii," you take hold of the cook's sleeve and shake him as hard as you can (which isnt much), "what should i do?! there's no way Zoro would actually like this!!!"

"I dont know," the blonde takes a spoonful of the soup you've made,which was oddly....black, "that blockhead should be thrilled that you put so much effort in making this for him!!"

You sniff,watching as Sanji swallows and school his expression,but not before his face paling slightly, "it just...has a little too much salt. And pepper...and.." when his eyes land on your defeated expression,Sanji smiles brightly again but it seems a little forced "and its absolutely delicious!!!i cant see how he cant possibly love this!"

"you're just saying that to make me feel better. You dont have to pretend,Sanji."

The cook gives you a charming smile and starts cleaning the kitchen, "if a man can't appreciate his woman cooking for him,then he doesn't deserve to taste it. So,y/n," he turns around from washing the dishes and smiles warmly at you, "don't be nervous. And remember you can always learn from your mistakes."

You smile back,and take hold of the bowl and walk our of the kitchen;a small skip to your steps.

"I'm going!!"

"Good luck with him!"

You giggle as you try to rush to where Zoro is; resting in his bedroom after you specifically asked him to rest.

It hasn't been long since he got injured by Hawk Eyes, and as much as he didnt want to admit those scars needed time to fully heal. And with him running around and fighting everyone in sight,it wasnt easy to actually make him rest. So after a small argument with him and some help from Sanji,you managed to cook something for him. The cook had mentioned that the herbs in the soup would heal him faster,but judging from how dark the food looked like,you may or may have not overcooked it. Only a little.

As you reach his room, you take a steady breath to calm yourself before knocking gently on the door.

"If its about your damn cooking or personal space again,i couldn't care less Sanji."

"Zoro,its me."

When the other side goes silent,you cant help but to roll your eyes playfully and grin. Sanji and Zoro couldn't get along for the life them and it never ceases to amuse you.

"...come in."

You take another breath as you finally open the door.

Zoro is,to your delight, actually resting on his hammock. His arms are folded behind his head as he stares at you when you walk through the door. The room is mostly dark,since he has a habit of drawing the curtains whenever Sanji is not around to nag at him. Your eyes momentarily traces the shape of the bandages under his shirt,before clearing your throat and moving to his side.

"i hope you're hungry. Sanji helped me cook this for you."

Zoro eyes the bowl in your hands,but doesn't move from where he's laying

"its not poisoned,is it?"

"i was cooking,what do you think?"

Zoro purse his lips and doesn't reply. You visibly gape at him and stump your foot angrily

"I'm not that bad at cooking!!"

"i didnt even say anything."

"your face says all i need to know!!" You huff and turn around, "maybe i should just give this to Luffy! I'm sure he would appreciate it,unlike someone."

You dont even have time to take another step before there are arms around your waist,not hard that you spill the soup,but enough to stop you from leaving.

"...give it here."

You dont turn around,but your lips twitch; Zoro could never say no to you.

"And why would i?"

"...cause I'm hungry and it smells...really good."

And when you finally turn around,you lift an eyebrow unamused.

"was that pause really necessary?"

"just give me the damn bowl."

You try really hard to hide your teasing grin,but judging from the scowl Zoro's wearing, you're not very successful at it.

You wait impatiently as Zoro blows the soup (which is totally unnecessary since its already lukewarm) and swallows a spoonful. You fidget with your fingers, tilting your head to side and looking at the man in front of you nervously.

"so?how is it?"

Zoro takes a moment before looking up at you.

"it's the best soup I've ever had."

There's a moment of silence where you just stare at the man in front you. He looks serious;no sign of his teasing grin or eye rolls. And when he sees you not responding,he just goes back to eating your black, burned soup.

Your eyes water and you try to muffle your sob.

At the sound, Zoro's head immediately snaps up,his eyes widening when they land on your crumbled form. He jumps to his feet and takes hold of your shoulders,caresses your cheek and wipes the tears away so gently that it has you crying harder.

"hey,hey. why are you crying?"

You shake your head and hide your face in his chest.

"i almost lost you Zoro..."

"but I'm-"

"you're not fine!!" You sob,and raise your face so you can watch his own twist into a frown as he watches your tears increase, "you almost died!! If it weren't for Zeff's help,you would've bled to death!i cant get the image of that sword slashing your chest out of my head!heck,i cant sleep without thinking of you dying in front of me Zoro!"

When you finally finish your little rant,your face is flushed and your breathing is uneven. Your mind wonders off to that cursed moment again,when a hand on your cheek pulls you back to your senses.

"breath," Zoro murmurs, "breath,babe. Its alright. Im fine;more than fine."

He rests his forehead against yours and puts your hand on his chest. Where you could feel his heart beating.

Alive and safe

"see?" He presses his lips to your heated skin and his hold on you tightens, "and, I'm getting so much better already with your magical soup."

At that,you let out a wet giggle and look up at him, sniffing, "really?"

"really."

And when he slowly steps back until he's laying on his hammock again,with your ear pressed against his beating heart,and the empty bowl of the soup on the floor;you feel your eyes slowly flutter shut.

"Sleep,love. I'll be right here when you wake up."

[throneofsapphics]

finding you again prologue

Azriel x f!Reader

summary: after he ended your relationship, you didn’t expect Azriel to pop into your life again - and you’re not happy about it

warnings: angst, drinking

a/n: here's the start to the mini series from this poll! if anyone wants to be added to a taglist, you can comment under here or send me an ask/message!

series masterlist

“Why?” You ran a hand through your hair. “Can you at least give me a reason?” 

“I told you. It’s not working.” Pity shone in Azriel’s eyes, and it made you want to break something. There was more he wasn’t saying, it was obvious to you, just as it was obvious he wouldn’t deign to share. 

“Then get out,” your voice was colder than you’d ever heard it. Enough that he blinked, and it brought a sick sense of satisfaction to you. “Out,” you repeated, not sure how much longer you could keep the tears in. 

He backed up slowly, one hand reaching behind to open the door, before slipping out. You missed the lingering look they shot your way, already having turned your back. With the click of the door, you grabbed the nearest glass and launched it across the room, a guttural scream leaving your chest. 

-

He lingered in the hallway, listening to shattering glass, your scream of pure pain, and hated themselves for a brief moment. He hadn’t lied to you, it wasn’t working. 

Whether you knew it or not wasn’t of any consequence to him. He did love you, genuinely, and part of him ached at the pain he was causing, but it was better than drawing out the inevitable. He’d loved you, but not enough to spend the rest of your lives together. It didn’t feel right to keep going when he knew you felt differently.

Still, he had to fight the desire to go back in and comfort you. 

His footsteps were soft down the hall, the stairs, the street, to the night that left an uncomfortable itch on his skin. 

-

Everything seemed fine. Not a damn indication something was wrong, but you should’ve known better - he was trained to hide his emotions, to keep secrets, but for a few years you’d let yourself believe you meant something to him. Let that pathetic hope fill you, that it might evolve into something more, that you could be his one. 

His face flashed across your mind, unwelcomed. That pity, like you were some miserable creature that would be broken by this 

Maybe you were broken, right now, but you decided to give yourself a day. 24 hours, and then you’d pull yourself together. 

But for now … a perfectly good bottle of red wine sat on your counter, one wine glass left standing. It would do. 

-

His shadows, half with a mind of their own, still followed you - still trailed to check you were fine. It was normal, expected, of course. You’d spent a few years together, although in secret, it was natural he’d still care for you. 

But, after a year passed he started to … wonder. Had he made a mistake? Through whispers in his ear, he trailed your life. Healers training, like you always said you would, a few new friends, new lovers that came and went, and eventually your departure from Velaris - sent to an outlying island as a new healing post. There was pride, pride he didn’t have any claim to feel, but it persisted nonetheless.

-

Prythian shut down, and you were one of the few who knew of a safe haven - although you couldn’t speak of it, or recall how to access it. Velaris. Each time the word came to the tip of your tongue, each time it was prominent in your mind, your throat dried up - chest clenched hard enough you lost your breath. It happened frequently enough your friends worried there was some sort of medical issue, and you forced yourself not to think of it. 

There’d been one last command from your High Lord - to lie low, and stay away, with one image flashing through your mind - the Holy Mountain for all of Prythian. Now cursed. Four simple words, one horrid curse, and you were cut off from all of your family and the friends you’d known for years. 

After 45 years, you wondered if they would still remember you like you did them. If one day you’d hug your little sister again. Would she remember you? She’d only been 10 the last time you saw each other, a day before you left, your chest clenched, throat tightening. Before you’d left home.  

You’d ached to leave the city and explore, and now all you wanted was to return. 

-

He thought of you often. Stuck outside of Velaris, with no way back. Not for the first time, he resented the decision Rhys made to keep them away. He hoped you’d gotten some kind of warning, that you were still alive out there. 

Azriel found himself checking on people he’d only heard of in passing. Everyone who’d been important to you in your life. Your younger sister growing, how your name was always met with worried looks and hushed tones, how over the years she stopped asking after you, how you seemed to disappear from everyone’s minds. 

Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one who remembered you. 

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

COD monster men

Requested: Yes. By me. I requested this cause I wanted it.

Warnings: spice, angst, blood, some fluff, Alejandro watches you sleep

A/N:

Ghost - Vampire

For Ghost, it’s all too easy to forget what he is until he’s in the heat of battle, blood on his clothes, stroking that ever present hunger that burns inside of him every second of every day. He’s afraid to be around anyone right than, his hands shaking as he licks the blood off of his gloves in whatever dark corner he can find, far away from prying eyes. He’s so so hungry, so desperate for it that he accidentally bites through his gloves, drawing blood from his own skin. It’s never good, makes his belly twist and turn til he vomits it all back up. Sometimes he’s so desperate, so hungry, that he bites himself on purpose, puking be damned. That’s nothing compared to the pain of a stomach so empty that he feels like he’s going to die, a feeling he’s felt all too much in his life, even when he was human.

And then he sees you, waddling around in army gear, approaching him cautiously, a medkit in your hands. You tell him how you’re a medic, how you need to evaluate him for injuries.

He tries so hard to get you to just buzz off but you insist on staying, so he reluctantly lets you sterilize his fingers despite knowing that they’d just be healed within the hour. But there was something soothing about the satisfied look on your face when you were done, his fingers taped up oh so carefully. He looks at them for a moment, trying to remember the last time anyone had showed him such concern and gentleness. Probably…..yes, it was probably Tommy and His Mother, from so many years ago. The 1950’s, he believes.

He looks at you, not noticing as you get fidgety the longer he stares. He…..he likes it. Your care, your worry, your gentleness. It overpowers the hunger that begs him to rip your throat out, to bathe himself in the blood that would gush from you. To drink himself so full of you that maybe he could have those things, be those things. Maybe it would soften up his insides and he could really feel things for once.

Please, make him feel something.

Soap - Selkie

The first time Soap lets you touch his seal skin, he almost has a panic attack. Years of generational trauma, of the fear of a human touching and stealing their skin, of stealing them away from friends and family, raping and abusing them. Everything in him is yelling to yank his skin back from you, to hide it far far away from your eyes. But he doesn’t. He knows you wouldn’t do that. Sweet sweet you who is so gently petting at the snout of his skin, a look of wonder on your face.

And despite the panic that he’s fighting, he decides that he likes the sight of his skin wrapped around you, almost like you’re a selkie yourself. He knows he can trust his skin around you, because you would never hurt him. Never hide it from him or tether him to the land when he wants to be in the sea. Knows you won’t commit the atrocities that many people before you have commited.

He likes the sight of you holding his skin, entrusting all of himself with you.

And, as you pull out the small black box that he hid in the folds of his fur, he hopes that you’ll entrust him with all of you as well.

König - Werewolf

König couldn’t remember most of what his first change was like, only the pain. Blinding mind numbing pain as bones broke and healed, taking on new shapes, stretching his skin and growing hair, more hair than a Sasquatch. His Oma had to explain it to him when he woke up like that one morning, mid way into his transformation, screaming and crying, praying for death because surely that would be better than this pain. His Oma shushes him, cradles him even when he begged her to go away, her warm hands on his oversensitive skin only making everything worse, driving him even further into overstimulation.

And it was the same with you now, crying as you held him through his transformation, pawing at you, trying so hard not to let his claws sink into you and rip you to shreds just to distract himself from the pain. You were so sweet to him, cooing in his ears, rubbing your hands over his fur, trying to help him. And when he looked at you in the finishing stage of his change, you looked like an Angel sent from heaven. Something otherworldly, beautiful and strong, having pity on the animal he is.

And he knew he never wanted to let you go. Never ever again. His angel.

Alejandro - Incubus

Alejandro sighs as he crouches over your pliant body, gently caressing your cheeks with big rough hands. He had waited so long to get you like this, peacefully sleeping away as he invaded your mind, showing you the most deliciously sinful images of the two of you together. Twisting and whining and crying beneath him, or even above him in a few cases. And oh, the sexual energy that started floating off of you was the best he’d ever had, only growing sweeter the longer he tormented your sleeping brain. It was such a tease, not just to you either. He had to watch you crying out under him, wanting to touch you so badly that it hurt. But he wanted your permission. Wanted you to willingly let him in so he could wreck you for anyone else. Destroy you so beautifully that you could never be put back together the way you used to be.

And when your beautiful eyes opened up, looking at him so cutely in your sleepy pleasure drunk haze, he knew that he too would never be able to go back. That you’d ruined him for anyone else, made him addicted to you and you alone. Nobody else would ever compare.

All he wants now is you. So please, let him have you.

[nightwngz]

— 𝓐 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ✮!! eng.

fratboy!wally west x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble, porn with plot. smut. dirty talk, multiple orgasms, oral sex, fingering.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . A friend of mine gave me the idea for this, so I said, 'Okay, this sounds good,' and decided to write it. I hope you like it.

Since you started university, you’ve always been part of the crowd. You never cared about being popular or standing out in class; you just wanted to get by like everyone else. You made an effort to fit in without drawing attention, avoiding conflict and focusing on passing with just enough.

Being part of the university meant interacting with certain people, even those you weren't particularly interested in but had to tolerate. Like the popular guys from a fraternity whose name you couldn’t quite remember, led by Richard Grayson and Wallace West—better known to their friends as Dick and Wally—or those slightly higher on the social ladder than you.

Dick Grayson was friendly, and his appearance clearly explained why he was so popular. He was also sweet and kind, so much so that if one of your friends asked you directly, you'd probably admit to having a crush on him. Wally, on the other hand, was a different story. Although he was funny and somewhat charming, and also popular because he was Dick's best friend, he didn't appeal to you as much. In fact, there were times when he would shamelessly try to flirt with you, but you would just respond with a gesture before completely ignoring him.

Conveniently, no matter how hard you tried to stay away from Wally, he always found a way to cross your path. Like the day you were sitting with Timothy Drake in the cafeteria when Dick Grayson came over to say hello to his brother. Wally seized the opportunity, walked up, grabbed Dick by the shoulders, and wasted no time flirting with you.

— Don't worry, babe. If you don't understand anatomy, I can give you a lesson or two.

You don't know what part of you thought it was a good idea to have Wally help you study. But you didn't realize how bad it was until the books fell off the bed where you were supposed to be studying and his face literally ended up between your legs.

You had never been with someone with such fast skills, so to speak. It was like being with The Flash himself. His tongue moved quickly over your wet pussy, causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure.

His tongue glided over your lips, tracing them from top to bottom, while his greenish gaze was fixed on yours. With one hand he helped you to spread your legs wider and with the other he filled your tight hole completely with two of his fingers. Then, growing restless, he moved to your clit, where he began to give you sweet, teasing licks. His mouth moved so quickly between your clit and your lips that it seemed he was caressing both at the same time.

And when you arched your back, with moans so intense that Wally was sure they could be heard in the hallway, he knew you would climax any moment, for the third time that night, with minimal effort on his part. It hadn’t even taken him more than five minutes.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached your climax, and a wave of pleasure swept through your entire body. As you gasped, you watched as Wally pulled away from between your legs, a mischievous smile on his face. He looked beautiful, his mouth smeared with your fluids, and maybe that's why you didn't ask him to clean up.

— Damn, babe, that was so good. After what comes next, you'll be so dazed that the only name you'll remember from these books will be "Wally”.

You looked at him with wide eyes, confused by what he meant by 'after what comes next.' Hadn’t it ended? You wondered if you could handle more, given that you had already had more than you could bear.

— Oh, what? Did you think that was it? Unfortunately for you, we're not done yet. And I have enough stamina to fuck you for hours.

[loveswrites]

ok so how about cullen poly during the fight scene in the fourth movie orrrr cullen poly with how spending a day with them would be like

Tomorrow Poly Cullens x reader

Summary: Basically what the lovely anon asked for but I didn’t listen what so ever so I might make a part two if you guys want.

Etc: And if you loves want a part two let me know and drop some ideas for what they could do in their two hours aloneee. Also thank you my loves for all of the notes it encourages me to write more things for you guys and not just myself lol <3

Word count: 1694

Time it took: 1 hour and 40 minutes

“How could you be like a thousand years old and still so stupid!” You huffed holding your head in your hand. You and the Cullens had been fighting lately. You don’t know why.. Well maybe you have something to do with it.

“How am I stupid? I really can’t hangout with you today my darling. We need to hunt. Especially Jasper, with you being around a lot more his hunger levels tend to double.” Carlisle said. You could just picture him looking at you in sympathy. 

You had called him because apparently all of your lovers are just too busy to hang out with you. You thought Carlisle would be free seeing as he was off today but I guess that wasn’t the case. He was off to go hunting with the rest of the family. Jasper had to leave earlier than the rest. So Alice, Emmett and Esme went with him. You thought Edward would be free since he didn’t go with him but he was in one of his petty moods ever since you went to hang out with Seth and Jacob with Bella. You told him he had nothing to worry about but he insisted that he did. Him and his stupid stupid mind reading. Which led to a fight with him so he was on the bottom of the roster right now.

Then there was Rosalie which was just a hard no for you. You didn’t want to hang out with her right now. Why you may ask? She threw away your pasta three days ago because she said it stunk. Who is she to throw away your pasta? You don’t walk around here popping her blood bags because you don’t like the way it looks to you. Maybe you should. I thought about it for a while and eventually said it out loud, Which was another fight with her that you could just add to the list.

So that left Carlisle who was perfect. Just perfect. He had picked you up from school just earlier today because you told him that you needed a ride. Since everyone else was busy he came and got you. Which he usually doesn’t do because it draws attention. But by now everyone was used to you being with and around the Cullens. Though they don’t know that you date them all. They only know that you date Jasper and Edward which they already thought was weird as hell. But you never cared. You're in love with two vampires that are the downfall to all of the human race. And you think that the world can know that. Know just enough without blowing the cover of it all.

“My love, I know that you are disappointed and upset with us but sadly there is nothing that I can offer for a solution.” Carlisle said after hearing your long aspirated sigh. 

“It’s like you guys are avoiding me. I don’t feel loved at all. I want some love without an argument following through not even two minutes in.” You said, Stripping yourself of your clothes preparing to take a shower since you had nothing better to do. 

“We are not avoiding you-” Carlisle paused and you could hear voices in the background. Listening closely you could hear that it was Esme.

“Is that-”

“I’m sorry but I have to go, the hospital is calling.” He rushed out and before you could even say a word the line was clear. 

Pulling your phone away from your ear you could do nothing but stare at it in disbelief. He hung up on you. And not only that but you were completely sure that that was Esme's voice in the background. No one else around her sounds like her. And you know damn well the hospital did not call him. He was lying. Esme was lying. They’re all lying. 

You couldn’t feel anything but disbelief. 

You knew they lied to just about everyone but that was to protect their family. Not everyone in the town could know that they drink animal blood and sparkle in the sun like a fucking case of glitter. But you knew those things already. You’ve seen those things already. So there would be no reason to hide anything from you. At all. 

Finding a new sense of adventure sparling through your veins you put your clothes back on now determined to find some answers. 

Running down the stairs with your bookbag you almost bumped into Charlie. “Woah there kiddo, What's the rush?!” He yelled out to you as you ran past him.

“I’ll be back later, don't worry I just need to see something really quick!” You yelled back getting into your car Carlisle got you for your last birthday. You had told him that was a big mistake. Even though He bought you a car you always felt guilty using it because you didn’t want it to look like you were using him. So you’d always catch a ride with one of them or go with bella. But right now you didn’t care about any of that. 

Pulling up to the Cullens residents It looked deserted. But then again when did it not? Parking your car you walked up to the door which was already being opened by Alice. Once you saw her you immediately frowned. She was supposed to be with Jasper just like Esme was. 

“What are you-”

“You need to go home.” Alice said firmly with her head held high light always.

“What? I don’t understand, why are you here?” You grow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Cleaning. Now go.” She said pointing back to your car.

“Do you see me walking away from this house anytime soon Alice?” You said standing your ground. She wasn’t just about to go and rush you away when you had only just gotten here. Seeing her face you knew the answer. 

You pushed her out of the way gently but made it known that you were going to back down and bow like a little puppy. 

As you walked closer to the heart of the house you heard mumbling and hushed whispers. Finally reaching your destination your eyes widened a little with what you saw. And your heart skipped a couple of beats.

Standing in front of you there was a sign on the wall that read. "We're so sorry’ And the loves of your life were each holding a sign that read ‘I love you because…’

“I know we lied to you but we had too. It was the only way for us to be able to put something together to try and show you the love that we have for you. You came sooner than expected.” Jasper said, looking a little ashamed. Him and his southern accent would always make you smile. Sometimes you wondered if it was just him. Or him using his powers on you. But either way you didn’t care it made you happy.

“Once Alice saw you coming we had to throw something together really fast. We were still brainstorming ideas Roslise didn’t like anything we suggested.” Edward said, shooting Rose a pointed look making you let out a small laugh. That was more like a sigh of relief. 

“It wasn’t enough, all their Ideas sucked. You deserve nothing but the best and I think I'm the only one in this room that understands that.” Rose said in her know it all tone that you loved so much.

“When you said over the phone early that you didn’t feel loved anymore that broke a piece of my heart. I- We never want you to feel that way. We want you to feel like the most loved person in this world. Because you are my love. We would die for you.” Carlisle said taking a step closer to you.

“I’d live for you.” Edward said, taking a step closer to you.

“Fight for you.” Jasper and Emmett said at the same time. Also taking a step closer to you.

“Smile for you.” Rose said, taking her step.

“Care for you.” Esme said taking a step as well.

“We couldn’t imagine a life without you and we're going to prove it to you. Starting today.” Esme said.

“Well more like tomorrow.” Rose said Shrugging her shoulders when everyone looked at her with a look as if to tell her to shut up.

“Rose is right, the full day starts tomorrow but doesn’t mean we can’t start tonight. You’ll have at least 2 hours with each of us until it’s time for us all to gather together. Since tomorrow is saturday.” Carlisle said kissing the top of your forehead, making you smile. Realizing you hadn’t said a word in a while you decided to throw something out there.

“Really?” You whispered but you know they heard you. Perks of being a vampire.

“Yes.” They all said collectively. 

This made you so over filled with joy squealing you kissed all of your lovers with a big wide smile on your face. They of course kissed you back like they always do. Biting your bottom lip in anticipation you looked up at all of them in expectation. Making them all break out with a soft smile. In admiration. 

“So what’s first?” You said basically bouncing up and down in excitement.

“I mean we could take you up to the bedroom right now and start the fun immediately.” Emmett smirked looking you up and down with suggestive eyes. 

“Emmett!” You all said collectively.

“What? What did I say wrong? Don’t tell me you all haven't been thinking the same thing.” 

Tomorrow just couldn’t get here fast enough.

[nifreti-ii]

I wuv phthonus and ares TwT (and eros and mammon and beelzebub… and morpheus… and hubris… huh- I love them all in their own ways :3)

Remember sweet lil Pthonus (or moss ball, cause he cute like that) wiggled his ears when happy and AH THE FEELS AKLWHJLDLKAJWH SO DAMN CUTE WTF the image in my head is nothing compared to what I drew, my heart- And of course, I drew Ares cause he is, admittedly, my favorite. That and the last time I drew him I honestly didnt feel I did a good job on showing how bbg he is (because he is very bbg). I just UGH I wanna pinch and squish both of them UUUUUH THE CUTENESS AGGRESSION DUDE WTF  

I also gave myself the push to draw him in his outfit because I said nu uh to leather last time ( I think it’s leather Idk am bad at telling shit sometimes) but this time I said F it and did it! And now I know I can do (okay) leather :D Also Phthonus was the first time I tried drawing chubby and afro hair! I was honestly worried I wouldnt be able to do it but I did! (I guess pushing myself for everything else made this possible, so much more confidence!!! RAAAAAH) I really like his hair too 🥹 I developed my “Moss ball” Nickname cause they’re really cute lil buggers to look at and so is he (also- um, broccoli pfff)

(boring life shit) Also was tumbling down for the period of time that I havent posted (started drawing them right after my EXE drawing but my brain went-_AOKJWH)rrrrrrrr *crash* and had to do a hard restart) buuuuut I do feel much better and have another drawing in the works (kinda of a secondary drawing and primary one) the primary WILL be my most dynamic drawing! I will finish/do it damn it!

Check out my Masterlist for my art and (limited) writing! >:3

[missgryffin]

lying in wait

Randomly listened to some Hamilton over the weekend, ended up with "Wait For It" stuck in my head, and wrote this in a couple hours today. I think it's angst, but with a nice dash of crack? Idk 😅 But I hope it makes you smile! 🫶 below + AO3

November 3, 1981

The cottage is silent, save for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hall, and it’s already pitch dark, with only the faint glow of street lamps and budding moonlight shining in through rain-slicked windows. 

Lily draws up her knees to her chest where she sits on the sofa, peering mindlessly into blurry windowpane. She doesn’t remember the last time she walked aimlessly down a road, or went into a shop. Sometimes, on stormy autumn nights like this, she wonders if she ever will again. 

Footsteps tumble down the stairs, then come to an abrupt halt. 

“Lil?” She can see his shadowed outline, one hand in his hair. “You just…sitting in the dark?”

She shrugs, though he probably can’t see, and asks, “Harry went down alright, then?” 

James chuckles to himself as he crosses the room, picking his way around the furniture until he drops onto the sofa next to her. “After reading every book twice and playing the Snitch game for thirty minutes…yes.” He leans closer, grinning. “Our son is asleep.” 

She rests a hand on his scruffy cheek. “It’s only supposed to be ten minutes of the Snitch game,” she teases him. 

“I know,” James sighs. “But he asked for ten more.” 

Lily snorts. “What, and then ten more after that?” 

He throws his hands weakly in his lap. “Wha—am I supposed to say no to the kid? He looks just like me!” 

She falls into him, a laughing heap, and for a moment, they simply giggle deliriously together. It’s nice. It’s normal. Or at least a sliver of it.

James cuddles her into him, and Lily breaths him in. They’ve lost so many over the few years since Hogwarts, but they still have each other. She clings on to that, to him.

“I love you,” she says into his chest. 

He kisses the top of her head. “I love you, too.”

A stretching silence; a heavy sigh. “It’s his birthday.” 

“I know,” James murmurs. “I can’t stop thinking about him.” 

Lily peels herself off his chest and swings a leg over his lap, sitting with her arms looped around his neck. How many conversations have they had over the years while sitting just like this? How many more will they get? 

“He said he’d be in touch by today.” Her mind won’t stop racing. “What if this was a bad id—” 

“It wasn’t,” James cuts her off. “Besides.” A heavy sigh. “It was…our only idea.”

“Do you think…” She pauses, plays with his hair. “Do you think we…did the right thing?” 

He sits up straighter, pulling her closer against him. “You’re the only two people in my life I know I can trust completely,” he says. “So yeah, I think we did.” 

There’s no use rehashing it again; they’ve done that enough. Yes, he now has a target on his back, but it’s not like he wasn’t already a target before. No, it couldn’t have been anyone else—not Albus, who knows more than he’s saying; not Remus, whom Albus and Sirius both suspect; and not Peter, who’s been looking exhausted and strung-out from the night-shift reconnaissance he’s been assigned. Yes, he had to leave. And no, it wasn’t cowardly to do so.

Granted, that last bit had taken a not insignificant amount of convincing (damned Gryffindor), but he eventually came around to their idea. Staying around in England with Voldemort sure to be onto him was certain death. But why not take advantage of being top of Voldemort’s mind? Why make it easy, when instead he could make it hard? Give the Order a leg up? Let them use him (or rather, the idea of him) as bait to lure and manipulate all the Death Eaters looking for him, and maybe even root out the spy in the process? And really, if anyone was going to lead Voldemort on a wild goose chase, setting traps and lying in wait, who better than Sirius Black?

Still, she worries. She can’t help it. And she knows James worries too, even if he does do a better job of hiding it. 

There’s only one thing left to do, really; only one way to pass the time sufficiently distracted from racing thoughts. James must read her mind, because he’s all eager hands and excited tongue when she kisses him. Maybe it’s unhealthy, how much they’ve used sex to cope the past year. But when his mouth feels like this and hair’s in her hands…she’s not sure she cares.

“Prongs!”

They jump, springing apart like they’re fifth years caught after curfew. James swears under his breath as they fumble to right the clothes they’d started shoving aside before he reaches for the small mirror sitting on the coffee table.

“Padfoot!” 

Lily frantically feels around the sofa for her wand. 

“Why’s it so dar—oh, don’t tell me you were just—”

“We were waiting for you,” James covers. 

“Mate. That’s worse. Just say you were shagging.” 

“Well, we weren’t yet.”

“Hi, Sirius.” She brandishes her now-glowing wand, recovered from the seam between the cushions. 

“Lily! Looking rumpled as ever!” 

She yanks her cardigan back up her shoulder as she scolds, “Shut it.”

“I miss you, too.” 

They can only see Sirius’s chin in frame, and it seems like he’s moving around. 

“Happy birthday, man,” James says.

“Thanks.” 

“Where are you?” 

“Hang on—I have to show you—ready?” 

“Yeah?” 

His face comes into view and Lily instantly gasps. 

Sirius grins. “Like it?” 

His once shoulder-length hair’s been chopped off stylishly short in a fresh cut that makes him look like old Hollywood charm in that loose button-down he has on. 

“Damn, Pads!” 

“I…barely recognize you,” Lily stammers. 

“Well.” He adjusts the mirror closer to his face. “That’s sorta the point.” 

A heavy pit settles in her stomach. 

“How you been?” James asks. “Travel go okay?” 

“Yeah, fine.” Sirius shrugs. “I’ve been doing things the Muggle way—that Muggle Studies N.E.W.T.’s finally paying off, who woulda thought.”

“Where are you now?”

The mirror turns around, panning over an ocean-side city lit up with lights through a set of patio doors. “Cannes,” he says, and Lily hears the grin in his voice. The mirror turns back to his face. “I have access to money here, dad’s side of the family, in the French bank. And I figure…” He flops back atop a hotel bed, one hand beneath his head. “If Voldemort wants to come get me, he’ll just have to bring his snakey arse down to the beach, won’t he?”

They all bust up into snorting, wheezing laughter. It’s not normal; none of it’s normal. But laughing with her husband and their best friend like this is the closest to normal she’s felt in a long time, and she thinks, if this is how life has to be for awhile, she can live with it.

[faces-ofvenus]

Hii, love everything you write! What about Aegon/Aemond having a crush on the same girl? ;)

Thank you for loving my writing, I hope you enjoyed it.

This would almost be a war, especially if we think about Aemond's point of view, he could very well in extreme situations try to kill his brother, that is if it was something Yandere (until when it is not, this boy is a Yandere even if he doesn't want to).

Both of them would try everything to fight each other, especially since childhood, in childhood it was much easier for Aegon to flirt and hit on you, he was like sincerely a breath of almost freedom running away with you right and left, he would provoke his brother in every way, stating several times that he would marry you, and not Aemond, it is pretty easy to know the little relationship between the two, even though Aegon is Aegon, you treat him with such kindness and gentleness, that maybe Alicent never gave you, so he would not be willing to give in or share that with his brothers, (another Yandere).

As I said in another blog, Aemond's flirting methods in childhood were quite simple, he would give you small things, none as extravagant as Aegon, something like flowers etc, he is shy, but what brings you two together, maybe it is the love for reading and art, usually Aegon doesn't even know about your relationship, he doesn't know about the sweet words Aemond speaks to you in the readings, and maybe it would be better this way, if not physical fights between the two would break out, they try to show each other how much better the other is.

In adult life everything tends to get worse, first because Aemond is no longer the shy and cute boy he used to be, and this kind of makes him open space for several provocations, and even wedding jokes, something that irritates his brother too much, Aegon wanted to be the only one who could have this affection, the only one who could draw smiles from you, the only one who could attract looks from you, no one else, and your brother wouldn't change that, your outings would really change, both of them on different nights calling you to fly with their dragons, no wonder both Sunfyre and Vhagar love you, the familiarity even allows you to pet them both, which makes them both jealous of each other.

If you in the end chose Aegon, Aemond would be devastated, he still had certain insecurities towards all this, even if his poker face, and his confident personality disguised a lot, but in your presence he could take off his eye patch, talk like the shy and gentle child he was, and he honestly as I said in the beginning thought about killing Aegon, but he knew for sure that you would never forgive him, and he wouldn't have it anyway, that doesn't stop him from threatening your brother, Aegon would be totally virtuous at that moment, to feel your lips knowing that you belong to him, the next day there's a beautiful emerald necklace on the headboard of his room, with a small letter that is very badly made, but that he tried very hard to be romantic.

If you chose Aemond, Aegon would be almost in a blind rage, most of his furniture ended up broken, he would drink more than before, which in itself is already worrying, more and more lascivious what kept him sincerely from not being with the maids was the fact that he thought that in the future he could have you, but now he'll never have you, all because of that damn one-eyed man, comments can be unleashed, some not so nice, he just holds an eternal grudge, both for Aemond and for you and everyone who influenced his choice. Aemond would be in the clouds, he would literally fly you out with Vhagar, they would land in a flowery field with some books in a small briefcase you brought, he would kiss you in such a shy way he just wasn't used to it, being king didn't matter so much anymore, he would have you, his queen at least in his mind, you were like a queen a true goddess.

If you happen to decide to stay with both of them, your beastly competitions never ceased, obviously you had to marry one, but in both of their mouths you were theirs, what is better than the protection of one dragon is the devotion of two, they are overprotective, and extremely competitive, like who leaves the most hickeys on you and etc, I don't doubt that one or two of their children, are either with Aegon or Aemond, and honestly neither of them could know whose is which, and I don't think they would care, you were theirs, and only theirs, anyone who dared to get in your way, could be burned and seconds.

[rottingfern]

all the wine is all for me || a Bad Omens fanfic

Summary: Noah’s just admiring his gains. Perhaps he’s a little more proud of his progress than the average guy. There’s definitely not a secret third reason for why he’s spending so much time in front of the mirror…

Pairing: Noah x himself lol

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: unbeta'd trash. masturbation. narcissism in the greek mythology way not the psychology way

A/N: I drank a lot of wine (what else is new) and also @throughwoodsanddirt showed me that one panel from the comics that made me cackle so hard because damn Noah just really thinks he's hot as fuck huh and then I cackled until I wrote this fic

Brainrot Club: @familiarscarsxelectrichearts @throughwoodsanddirt @cowpokeomens

Masterlist here.

Title taken from All the Wine by The National; banner made by me (using Caravaggio's Narcissus); dividers by @saradika

Noah’s reflection is smiling at him. 

That, of course, is explainable by the fact that he himself is smiling; grinning, in fact, because he just looks so damn good. His gains this month were frankly goddamn impressive. Already he can see the widening of his chest to form an inverted triangle of his torso, the definition building in his bicep when he flexes.

What worries him, though, is the naughty glint in his reflection’s eye, the too-sharp canines, the raise of a single eyebrow that he definitely is not capable of reproducing. Never has been. 

He knows this look. Once, he had a fling with this girl who was an absolute freak, gets him half-hard even just remembering half the things she got up to between the sheets. And the fucking cherry on top: she loved making movies. Editing those for her unfailingly devolved into multiple-hours long dates between him and his hand. The face he’s making - his reflection is making - is the one that painted his face in the movies when she, pointing her phone to get his reaction, would ask him for the nastiest shit he’d thought only a fantasy in porn. 

So it makes no sense that he’s looking at his reflection like this, because it’s not like he’s into himself. 

His hand beelines south down the expanse of his strong (so goddamn strong, he’ll have definition in his six-pack any day now) stomach. That’s definitely not something he’s doing of his own volition. He’s not that self-absorbed. 

Well, that’s a lie. He’s not gay (unless you count the exploratory hand stuff him and Nick did as teens), but if he could, he’d totally fuck himself. 

It takes a bit of effort to shuck the grey sweats he’d worn down his hips with one hand, distracted as he is with the shapes his other arm makes as it continues to flex in the mirror. These used to be pretty loose, just crossing the line of oversized on him. Now, they’re filled by thick thighs and marble-cut hip flexors. With a single finger, he traces the vee framing trimmed pubic hair. These used to show just a hint of the magic underneath. Now, his hardness bulges a vulgar display. 

Dropping the band even just an inch springs the tip of his cock, leaking and ready to play. It’s the only part of his body he’s never been self-conscious of, because God or whoever else decided he at least deserved a win in that department when they decided to make him a skinny bitch with weak lungs. Gives the girls who settle for him a nice reward. 

Except, he never gets this hard for all the pretty girls he bags. This - the red, burning tip, the feeling like if he touches it he’ll cum in just a few strokes, the pain of wanting to draw the pleasure out as long as he can - is reserved only for the times he’s fucking his hand. 

There’s a quiet battle of wills that follows between giving up inspecting his gains and giving into his own touch. He cups his balls through his sweats, head kicking back tugged by an invisible hand at the squeeze. Noah’s sure the column of his throat looks positively delicious like this, has seen enough photos of himself in this devout escape onstage, and thinks he’s no better than all the commenters saying they’d like to lick it. He’d do it instantly, and he knows it’d feel good.

In the end, the sweats come down his thighs. He’s never denied himself pleasure so heavily mounted, not when paraded before him so, not when the boundaries are inexistent. He won’t let himself be fucking tease.

The drag of the calluses on his fingers against the tenderhot flesh of his cock sends gooseflesh up his arms. 

His toes numb for a moment as he finally takes himself in hand at the base, breath hitching wetly as he watches his hand wrap against himself. He’s heavy in his hand even to himself, so thick and veiny and so hard. A drop of precum splashes his thigh before he even has a chance to run his hand up the length. He collects it with his pinky when he reaches the tip, not daring let it go to waste. 

Thunder thighs has always been a confusing insult to him. Thighs are the strength in legs, the support to a body, the place you put your hand to hint your desire to a lover. Thighs are his handles when buried in a lover - the cradle to what every person wants most from another. Years of touring and running out of underwear have made him accustomed to going commando, but since his thighs filled out - though he now can afford to just buy a five-pack Hanes on a whim - he prefers it. There’s never a better cradle for a commando cock than a thick set of thighs. 

The overeager spit bubbles as it mingles with the precum on his palm, glistening in the mid-afternoon sun. The way they rapidly deflate feels like a countdown, one he’s determined to beat, and so finally, finally, he takes himself in hand earnestly. 

He can’t help the strangled hiss that escapes.

Noah’s usually pretty quiet in bed. Doesn’t like the vulnerability that comes with voicing his pleasure, with sharing the secret of how easy to please he is with a partner. But, fuck, does he love talking himself through it. “C’mon, baby,” he chants to his hand as it increases speed. “So fucking good,” he groans through gritted teeth. 

His voice is so fucking smooth. So fucking deep when he speaks through his chest. Just the perfect amount of grit that, if he shuts his eyes, he can feel reverberate through his nape and scalp and bang against the back of his nose as the sound waves travel to his cochlea. 

He won’t shut his eyes now. Never - not when he’s looking like that with his brow furrowed, gaze hard and nearly icy, nostrils flared and jaw clenched tight. 

He clenches it tighter, raises his chin just so to create the illusion of that perfect jawline. 

“Noah,” he moans, “god, Noah, fuck.” It echoes in his ear, and it is his voice, but he swears he didn’t feel his lips move as he watches them round around each syllable in his reflection. 

His name sounds so good rolling off his own tongue. 

Release hits Noah not like a full-speed bullet train, but the way it feels when you pulled your first tooth: slow, painful, and with each tug more builds up until it just pops out. Only after does he register the relief, the shoot of tension up his spine to burst behind his eyes and temples, the numbness in his fingers as he struggles to jerk himself through. 

Just those few final caresses. His cum blinds him with exploding stars and broken breaths. It paints the mirror in sloppy strokes of seminal goo, but he supposes that’s what Windex is for. 

Before he registers the signal from brain to limb he kneels, the rough of his wall-to-wall carpet digging into his knees as he releases his eager tongue. The spend is saltybitter when it coats the bed of his taste buds, slimy as it runs down the ramp of his throat. Noah makes sure to collect every single drop. 

He doesn’t feel shame when his eyes meet his own in the wet, distorted reflection once he’s done savoring himself. “You did so well, baby,” he says. “Such a good baby.”

His reflection nods eagerly, eyelids fluttering blissfully, head dropping as Noah’s neck stays stiff and still, eyes wide open. 

God damn, he is a sight to be seen.

[lxtstrip]

Last to Fade | M. Sturniolo

TW: alcohol mention and 13RW show/character mention just for a moment and a SLIGHT spoiler of S1xE1 if we still even need a spoiler alert, but no SPECIFIC topics from the show.

AN: all opinions expressed about the show are mine, i do not speak for anyone else. i also knocked this out in 2 hours or so while rewatching the series.

WC: 715

Pairing: Matt x Reader

You watched Matt lift a bottle of Stella to his lips. He repeatedly begged you for Shock Top, but you insisted this was better. Strangely, he didn’t complain about the flavor profile tonight, because tonight was your night with him. He didn’t have to worry about posting anything on social media on nights like this and it relieved him more than anyone could ever begin to fathom.

As Matt set the bottle back on the coaster beside him, you couldn’t help but notice his hand and arm. You always had a thing for his tattoos, same as every other girl in his comments and DMs. However, you got to see the way they moved. You got to take in what they looked like half inside of messy bed sheets. You were lucky enough to experience the mundane and intimate alike.

In the most cliche fashion you were ripped out of your thoughts as Matt abruptly lifted his elbow to his face so he could address the tickle in his throat. Even his coughing could never bother you, no matter how loud it was. You were without a doubt that if and when you were with him long term it would infuriate you, but for now you found it to be something you could put up with.

“I don’t get it…” Matt finally uttered.

“What do you mean?” you asked sitting up to look him in the face.

“That damned smile!” he mocked the brunette on the television.

“We watched this series twice and you still don’t get why she fell for Justin?” you asked.

“The first time we watched it, I wasn’t paying attention to the romance! That’s chick shit.” he said, throwing up his hands in defense.

To be fair he was right, at the time it premiered it was marketed to bring attention to mental health and provoke thought in younger individuals. At the same time when you both watched it for the first time there were multiple sources tearing it apart and even more making fun of it so you two decided to give it a go deciding for yourselves what the final verdict would be. You both landed it deserved every generalized concept it was given.

“I’m just saying she would have been happier with Clay if she gave him a chance from the start of the show.” Matt commented.

“All this from the guy who said he wasn’t watching this for the romance.” you giggled, laying your head back down in his lap.

The credits started flickering across the screen and Matt couldn’t grab the remote fast enough. He didn’t even let the automated timer go off before he was jumping to watch the next episode.

You and Matt called it a night after episode two. There was a bit of debate between why a show would remain so cryptic for so long. Answers could have been given while still drawing people in, but you both decided it was lazy.

It was surprising Matt could draw such astute conclusions. He wasn’t widely known for being well read, just one of 3 brothers with a somewhat influencing career. Truth be told, when Matt wasn’t recording with his brothers or gaming, he was in the books pretty heavily. No genre was off limits for him after he met you. You changed him in the most positive ways; his words, not yours.

You were his favorite everything. He looked at you the same way you looked at him. He was enamored with you. You were his rock after a hard day, you were his passenger princess on dates, and you were his last girlfriend he ever wanted. He would never admit his feelings in that capacity, not now anyway.

Matt pulled the covers over the two of you and gave you a kiss on the forehead before settling in and wrapping his arms around you. A comfortable silence enveloped the two of you between chaste kisses and loving glances. You never knew how watching something on television could wipe from your minds so quickly and fall into your nightly routine. You liked it, there was a pleasant, resounding ambience that you two were made for each other.

To paraphrase the great Adam Young - the spaces between Matt’s fingers where right where yours fit perfectly.

[voylitscope]

CA: TWS 10th Aniversary Ficlets (Day 10)

Daily ficlets for the CA: TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary. With Huge thanks to @sparkagrace and @cable-knit-sweater for running this wonderful event! 💞

Previous days' ficlets now Ao3 by ship/genre! Stucky | Gen | EvanStan |

Also readable on Tumblr! Links under today's ficlet.

Ten | April 4th | Theme: To the end of the line | Prompt: 1940s, reunion | Words: 1,000 | Canon Divergent | G | No warnings | Steve/Bucky, Bucky Barnes Recovering, romance, first kiss (since the '40s)

Bucky has a lot of strange dreams. Nightmares, images that might be memories mixed with ones he’s sure couldn’t have ever been real., and things don’t make sense at all. Sorting it out feels damn near impossible.

Even with the slightly better grip on his own memories that he’s regained these days, and even with Steve’s help, it’s still hard to work through.

Most of the time, he doesn’t bother trying. Dreams are honestly the least of his worries. So he tends to just shake them off, no matter what.

But lately, he’s been having this recurring dream. It’s been happening multiple times a week, and it’s starting to really get to him. And not because it’s a nightmare or a disturbing dream of any sort.

It’s not. It’s actually —

It’s about Steve. It’s about him and Steve, and what he now knows to be their old apartment in Brooklyn and —

In the dream, Steve is sitting on the couch. That’s how it always starts. Steve’s sitting on the couch, and Bucky sees himself walking across a wooden floor and then leaning over Steve's shoulders, looking at the sketch pad on his lap. And, in the dream, they both look how they did back when they’d really lived in that apartment. But in his sketchbook, Steve has drawn Bucky looking how he does now, in the present — metal arm clearly visible in the image.

Then, in the dream, Bucky grins at Steve, as if this image is an expected thing to see, and he always says,

“How bout that you got my good side for once,” and that makes Steve laugh and set down his pencil so he can puts a hand around one of Bucky’s arms.

“Didn’t know you had one,” Steve says, tugging Bucky closer to him. He’s always still laughing,. They’re both always laughing.

That’s when Bucky watches himself bend lower and put a hand hands on Steve’s neck.

“It’s looking real good, Stevie,” Bucky says, every time, as Steve’s head turns toward his. “I like this one.”

“Glad to hear it.” Steve’s grin is so close to Bucky’s own mouth, and he’s still tugging on Bucky’s arm. “Guess it’s accurate.”

“Oh, such flattery,” Bucky says, somehow even closer to Steve’s mouth than before.

And then. Every time.

They kiss.

And that’s when Bucky wakes up.

It’s really not a bad dream.

Honestly, Bucky really wouldn’t mind if he kept having it. He well, he thinks a lot about kissing Steve when he’s awake. That’s a thing, too, lately. He doesn’t know what to do about that. He can’t quite figure out if the wanting is remembering something he’s always wanted, or if it’s a new thing. Either way, it makes the dream pretty enjoyable, if confusing.

But he’s had it eight times in two and half weeks, and he thinks there’s gotta be something to that. A message, or something.

When he wakes up from a nap and the 9th version of it — on a couch with Steve already in the room, it feels incredibly hard to shake off. It feels —

“You okay?” Steve calls. He’s got a sketchbook in his hands.

“Yeah.” Bucky sits up on the couch and watches Steve’s hands as he draws. “How long was I out?”

“Only about an hour,” Steve says, sending him a smile. “Didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head.

The dream is still floating in his mind, and with Steve right here, it’s —

“You sure you’re alright?” Steve sounds more concerned this time. He puts his sketchbook down.

“Just a dream.” Bucky waves a hand. “Told you how they are.”

“Sure,” Steve says, not seeming any less worried. “You can tell me about it if you want.”

Bucky shakes his head, but then he notices what Steve’s been drawing. The sketch Steve was working on is him, looking how he does now, in the present — metal arm clearly visible in the image. It’s not exactly the same as the one Bucky’d seen in his dream, but it’s close.

Bucky stares at it, quiet for long enough that Steve reaches out and puts a hand on his arm.

And suddenly the dream starts feeling very real, and Bucky wonders if —

If it could be a memory.

“You drew that in my dream,” Bucky says, pointing to the picture. “Close to it, anyway.”

“What?” Steve frowns.

“I keep having this dream,” Bucky says, pushing the words out before he changes his mind about saying them. “About you and me in our old apartment, and you’re drawing, but you draw me now, not me like I was then, like I am in the dream.”

“Oh,” Steve says, slowly. He nods, and he gets up to sit next to Bucky on the couch.

“And we kiss,” Bucky says, eyes locked on Steve’s face when he does. “In the dream. We joke around about you drawing me, and then we kiss like — like people who do it all the time.”

Steve’s breathing and pulse change.

“We — we did,” Steve says, flushed, but meeting Bucky’s eyes. “Might be a memory. Memories.”

“I was wondering,” Bucky says, nodding. “Keep having it so often, and then this time you were here, and I thought —“

“Right,” Steve says.

“I hoped that was right,” Bucky offers truthfully. “It’s a good dream.”

“Yeah? You did?” Steve brightens noticeably. He outright beams at Bucky.

“I did,” Bucky says, pleased when Steve sets a hand on his arm again.

Bucky doesn’t really remember a lot about how to do this, he’s been watching himself put a hand on Steve’s neck before kissing him for weeks. It seems like a good move. So he repeats it now. Bucky puts a hand around Steve’s neck, and he lets Steve tug him in a little closer with that hand on his arm —

And then they’re kissing.

But this time, Bucky doesn’t wake up as soon as it starts.

He gets to keep kissing Steve.

🎆Nine | April 3rd | Theme: Cap Quartet | Prompt: Breakfast/Washington D.C. | Words: 500 | Canon divergent | G | No warnings | Steve/Bucky, implied Sam/Natasha, Steve and Natasha friendship, low-stakes fluff

🎆Eight | April 2nd | Theme: Bucky Barnes | Prompt: Ghost story | Words: 1,000 | Canon Divergence | Gen | No Warnings | Steve/Bucky, Post-TWS, dancing, Bucky Barnes recovering

🎆Seven | April 1st | Theme: HYDRA | Prompt: Project Insight | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not rated | No warnings | Bucky POV, implied Steve/Bucky (in a similar way to, you know, the literal plot of CA: TWS.)

🎆Six | March 31st | Theme: Sam Wilson | Prompt: Partners/Missing Scenes | Words: 350 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | Gen, Sam and Steve friendship, a tiny teaspoon of Sam and Riley emotions that you can interpret however your heart desires.

🎆Five | March 30th | Theme: TWS Cast | Prompt: Stunts | Words: 350 | Mature | No Warnings | RPF, Chris Evan/Sebastian Stan, very light/implied sexual content (but throwing this one under a cut just in case), sexual thoughts/tension, intentionally unspecified POV

🎆Four | March 29th | Theme: Natasha Romanoff | Prompt: Trust Issues | Words: 350 | Canon compliant| Not Rated | No Warnings | Gen, Natasha and Steve friendship

🎆Three | March 28th | Theme: SHIELD | Prompt: Surprise Visitor | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | But: very brief Steve/OC (sort of), and, I guess, privacy invasion via audio recording? I don’t know how to tag that. It’s canon that Steve’s DC apartment was bugged. So?

🎆Two | March 27th | Theme: Steve Rogers | Prompt: Guilt | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings

🎆 One | March 26th | Theme: On your left | Prompt: The Smithsonian | Words: 250 | Canon compliant | No warnings | Not Rated |

[lou-struck]

A New Year's Miss

Kei Tsukishima x reader

~ New Year's Meet Cute/ Soulmate Au

WC: 1.5k

Hey, @tsukkismoonlight it's your secret Santa for the Teahouse Fic exchange. Sorry it took so long, I got a bit Christmassed out and had to go back to the drawing board.

People don’t always meet their soulmates. It’s an unfortunate truth that comes with a world with over 8 billion in population.

But love can exist without meeting soulmates. And so many people settle for love, not their other half.

When you were a child, you thought you would meet the person you were destined for. Every little crush you had sparked this sense of longing in your chest. 

What if they are the one? 

What if the moment the two of you touch you realize that the two of you have been meant for each other all your lives?

Put every handshake, every hug, every bump you felt nothing. After a certain amount of time, you feel it. You get hit with the same truth that everyone else’s discovered.

Your soulmate is probably on the other side of the world. You’ll never meet them. And so… You gave up. Focusing on living your life and settling for love. But it’s been hard to commit to somebody else when the possibility that your soulmate is out there lives in the back of your mind.

~

The countdown to midnight has begun. The bar is filled with glittery patrons, clad in Flashy New Year's hats, glasses, and beads. Everyone is living it up as if the very world could end when the ball drops. 

But New Year’s always brings around a sense of desperation for the people who still hold on to the idea that their soulmate is out there. Everybody wants to go into the new year with love.

Under your feet, the epoxy is sticky from spilled beer and spirits as you look around for a familiar face from among the hundreds of sweaty dancing bodies. Your friends have decided to try to find their own soulmates before midnight. 

Sourly, you think of how impossible the odds seem that anyone could meet their soulmate in a little bar like this. But say nothing as your little group gets whittled down one by one until you are alone. Not caring enough about searching for ‘The One.’

The stuffy air invades your lungs, and an unforgettable warmth blossoms on your skin. Your search and the occasional bump from tipsy strangers only make the uncomfortable warmth you are feeling an increase.

It's just too damn hot in here

If you don’t get some air, you are going to lose your mind.

Walking along the outskirts of a dance floor, you make your way to the staircase that leads to the rooftop. Even if it’s crowded, spending a bit of time outside sounds nice. Being the end of December, the air will be enough to help you cool down.

The staircase is narrow enough that you don’t have to deal with people loitering on it. It’s only a few steps to the top, but already you felt better.

Although The rooftop isn’t as crowded as the dance floor below, there is still quite the party going on up there.

But you don’t really care, not when you get to you enjoy the feeling of the cool night air against your skin.

Taking in your surroundings, you notice a tall man with grayish-green hair walking through the crowd, scanning his head every which way as a shorter man with bright orange hair follows him.

They are both wearing cheesy New Year glasses and holding tall glasses of champagne in both hands.

“Tsukki!” He calls, he’s close enough that you can see the pink tintype of alcohol upon his freckled cheeks. “Where did you go?”

“Maybe he went downstairs Tadashi.” The smaller guy says. Walking by you and leading his friend down the stairs.

As the men head down the stairs. You chuckle a bit. You were only searching for your friends a few minutes ago. But now you’re not worried, you know your friends are still here since you drove everybody. So you decide to take a bit more time do you enjoy yourself.

The rooftop is a lot larger than you expected, and the thick crowd thins out as you get farther away from the bar and the dance floor.

Leaning up against the rail, the last bit of uncomfortableness fades away as you stare out at a clear sky. There are too many lights in the city, so you can’t see the stars. But the sky is still beautiful.

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle and you turn your head to see that you are not alone. A blond man scrolls on his phone on an empty lounge chair behind you.

“You took my spot,” he tsks, looking up from his screen and readjusting the glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose.

"I didn't realize that this railing belonged to you." you laugh looking down at the man. His lips turn upwards into a bit of a smile at your attitude.

"There is an unspoken rule about hiding spots," he says, getting up from his seat and walking over to you, and placing his arms on the railing.

"So you're hiding?" you ask, getting a better look at him. He's tall, much taller than you thought he was from his seat. His frame is slim but not wiry. You bet he has a surprising bit of muscle from underneath his gray knit sweater.

Why someone as good-looking as him would want to hide tucked away on the corner of a rooftop when he could easily get swarmed by desperate partygoers is beyond you.

"Obviously, these people are too energetic for me," he shrugs. "It's pretty annoying."

He is a bit of a sourpuss, but it's kind of endearing.

"I can't argue with that," you smile. "It's way too hot down there. I didn't want to keep getting bumped into."

"I guess I could let you use my hiding spot for a little longer," he says, looking at you with his golden brown eyes.

"You'll let me?" you tease, bumping into his shoulder slightly. "Well, I guess if you're letting me, then I might."

"What's your name?" 

You clear your throat and meet his gaze. “it’s y/n”

“Kei Tsukishima.” He returns, holding out his hand. You take it and you feel as if electricity is coursing through your veins. Sparked by a familiar yet unfamiliar touch.

Talking to strangers on rooftop bars isn’t something that you have made a habit of in your life, but this... Meeting this man sparks some sort of feeling in your chest.

“Did- did you feel that too?” you breathe, still trying to recover from that wonderfully strange sensation.

“I did,” he says a bit too quietly. The sarcastic boldness that he carried earlier is gone from his tone and he staring at you with those beautiful eyes again, trying to take in every detail of your face. “Does this mean..”

“I think so,” you murmur. "We’re soulmates.”

Your hands are still clutching each other like a lifeline and neither of you wants to let go. You just stand there as a cold breeze toys with your hair. 

“One minute to midnight,” you hear the Dj call over the loudspeakers.

“Oh right,” Tsukishima laughs, glancing back towards the rest of the party behind you, “We’re in a bar.”

“You forgot?” you smirk at your soulmate covering the fact that as of a few seconds ago, you also forgot everything else that wasn't Kei Tsukishima.

“You got a bit of an attitude,” he says, leaning over, his tall frame completely hiding your shorter one as he breathes into the shell of your ear. “I like it.”

“Shuddup,” you mumble, watching his lips pull away from you.

“It's almost midnight," he says, giving the party a bored glance.,"But I don't think I can wait that long."

"For what?" you ask.

He smiles and his hand comes to rest on the back of your neck. "To kiss my soulmate, of course."

"T-then don't wait," you say, fighting against the goosebumps of apprehension that appear on your skin.

He is just so close.

You have never wanted someone to kiss you so badly in your entire life.

That jerk. He wants it too, but he is toying with you.

“Fine,” you sigh, taking your free hand and grabbing him by the collar, and pulling his lips to yours. You feel him gasp in surprise, but he only deepens the kiss.

You only know that it’s midnight by the cheers that erupt behind you.

Fireworks filled the night sky and confetti rains down from God knows where. It’s the new year.

But the two of you stay lip-locked until a minute or two past twelve. It’s intoxicating, but eventually, if the two of you have to come up for air.

And you do. Gasping for air but still looking at each other longingly as if the other was their drug of choice.

“You… little… jerk.” He says between breaths, "you took the first kiss."

“Mmm hmm,” you grin, taking in his flushed face. There’s a twinkle in your eye as you lean in and press a quick peck to his lips. " I also took the second. I think you need to keep up. “

An amused smile crosses his face, and he laughs. “I plan on taking the first kiss next year.”

[kalolasfantasyworld]

Chapters 372, 373 comments

The comments were written as I was reading. I'll make another post with my overall opinion and analysis. These are live reactions 💕

Chapter 372

We’re starting with Nozel crashing down and Pablo coming to the rescue. CLASSIC. (Helena get over here and heal your husband please)

Thankfully Kahono and Kiato came in. I actually stumbled upon a post on twitter saying that BC mobile foreshadowed this a little, giving us both of them together. 

Moving on I love how they’re giving Noelle a way to fight. 

I’m really glad how Tabata’s showing us Acier’s spells. We didn’t really know about anything except her Valkyrie armor, so it’s great to see how they’re more “bird” related. 

Noelle and Acier are going all out. The fact that Acier is using water is interesting. Maybe it’s to show the similarities.

THE PANELS, THE ART. They’re amazing, we can see how dynamic this fight is and we can only dream how it will look animated.

Acier once again using an eagle and Noelle fighting her off with a dragon, amazing.

YES Solid and Nebra panels! They realise how powerful Noelle is and at the same time they’re terrified, they feel weak and we see them reflect on their actions, on their behaviour. 

I’m glad they realised their mistakes, but no you’re not wretched you were until you realised and tried to make it better.

They get inspired by their little sister and the inspiration trope goes on in BC.

Now once again the epic fight between Noelle and Acier. ART is at its peak here, the foreshortening, shadows, expressions.

And Acier nearly had her, but NEARLY, because SOLID my boy. 

I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you! I knew you had it in you!

Nebra fights as well! She’s terrified, but she’s not giving up! 

“It isn’t the weak who should be embarrassed. It’s the ones who STAY WEAK!”

YES YES EXACTLY

And they want to atone, want to make a fresh start and want to BECOME A FAMILY!.

All I ever wanted from BC was this last panel. 

Thank yous so much Tabata. The four of them. You made it so beautiful.

I’m extremely grateful I stuck around in the fandom to witness this.

Also hey Nozel you’re up and back in the fight!

Chapter 373

“Take care of the rest for us… SILVAS!!” 

I’m not sobbing guys, no not at all.

Nebra using her strength and covering everything so that they can talk.

Ohhh I love how the next panel kind of flashes back to when he said that she’s a Royal and she has to come protect the capital with him!

Same motifs everyone. Amazing.

Nozel is finally guiding Noelle and teaching her. I wonder what would had happened if he did that since the beginning, but well we’ll never know. Good he’s making up for it now.

Acier comes back and they need more time, Noelle needs more time for this attack. I know what’s coming. Nozel relaying on others! Character development.

“Big brothers exist to protect their siblings!!”

Nozel you’re making me cry 😭😭😭 I’m so proud of you. 

AND yes he’s changing his style, he’s learning, evolving. DEFENCE.

DAMN, so I saw that panel earlier… but I’m still looking… respectfully…

NEW SPELL, I already made Helena make dirty jokes about it… 😂

But honestly even though he looks exactly like the Silver surfer and he had that surfing scene in during the captains’ battle. I LOVE IT. 

And see guys Nozel has some lean muscle, my drawings and descriptions are accurate.

And he kind of got an armor.

I’m discontinuing simping right now.

He’s buying them time! They obviously worry, but how badass that is.

I love how determined Solid and Nebra are here. 

“Solid and I will support your spell!!”

YES Nebra! Good job girl!

They will help, they will support you Noelle.

Maintaining that spell does hurt. I head canon that Nozel has some immunity to his magic in a way that he can control it a bit from not hurting him, but nonetheless it is hurting him. Mercury is poisonous.

However he fights through it now, he goes against his mother, doing his best to buy time for his siblings.

Nebra and Solid have a hard time, it’s hurting them, but they don’t speak they’re focused and they will help her. On the contrary they tell her to push forward. Such amazing development. We can also see their repentance. They know they were wrong and they’re trying to make up for it in these crucial moments.

I saw this panel in @thoughtfullyrainynightmare’s colorings and I LOVE it so much! Nozel and his punishment are very dramatic. He looks so good here!!! (Simp mode is back)

However what he SAYS is so much more important, what he wishes to achieve. He believes in his goal, he will atone and be able to rebuild to heal the bonds in his family.

Okay this is going to be heavy. I just know it.

Noelle doesn’t want to hurt Nebra and Solid. 

CONFESSIONS

I knew it 

😭😭😭

I always head canoned that Nebra was jealous of that and now it’s confirmed. It’s so brave of her to confess it now.

Solid also was jealous, the same magic attribute and Noelle was just more powerful. He was scared, scared to be weaker than Noelle, which he ended up being (self fulfilling prophecy everyone).

But they are SORRY!

And this means to Noelle more than anything.

She charges her magic, as Nozel continues the fight! Spectacular.

(I haven’t red Jojo, but it’s a mojo looking panel) once again I’m so impressed by the movement and just how amazingly Tabata can show the action.

The spell crashes Acier’s eagle.

“It’s a shame, but I got to see my children all grown up and strong As a mother, I’m satisfied!”

Acier despite being an evil paladin is the one of the best mothers’ in BC.

She’s proud of them (me too girl me too)

“You took the long way round, but you’ve finally become a family, haven’t you?”

Yes they have.