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[angy-mouse]

Puck Bunny Part 5

4.4k, sfw (maybe like 15+ for grab assery) I am finishing this god damn fic if it kills me

<Prev Next>

When you agreed to come to the frat house so Sam could, quote, “treat your fine ass to some fine ass home cookin,” which you think means dinner, you had two concerns. The first was that every frat house you’ve been in before was a cesspool of spilled beer, vomit-filled shoes, and dirty underwear. But there was nothing you could do about that other than chuck a mini hand sanitizer in your bag. The second was not being able to find the house among all the other beta-kappa-thetas. 

“Well,” you mumbled as you eyeballed the giant ‘VAL-U WOLVES’ banner strung across the front of the house, “that solves that problem.”

You shot Niki a text that you’d arrived, as promised, and consulted your bag. Chapstick? Check. Lipstick? Also check. Travel perfume? You put on a spritz. Spare panties because you learned your lesson? You’ve got two. It’s go time.

You didn’t even manage to lift your fist to knock before the door swung open. 

“Yeah, I’m leaving, don’t get your thong in a twist- oh, woman alert.” Big brown eyes blink at you in surprise before a toothy grin spreads across the man’s face. “Ooh, you must be Sammy’s girl!” You start to open your mouth and he’s already grabbing your hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m the goalie, call me Ponk-”

You wonder if he realizes he’s still shaking your hand.

“You’re in for a real treat, Sammy’s in there cooking up a storm-”

“What are you babbling about out here, Ponkie?” 

You should be ashamed of the way you perked up at Sam’s voice. There was absolutely no world where you could be this attached to a man you’ve seen twice without losing all self-respect. But when he came around the corner he was wearing an unbuttoned polo with his worn jeans, flaunting his thick arms as he dried his hands, and you decided self-respect was overrated. And maybe that was okay, because he lit up just as much when he realized you were at his door.

“Get the fuck out of here, Ponk,” he hissed, smacking his goalie with the towel. 

You could see the conniving idea form on Ponk’s face, watching his grin curl into something evil before his arm wrapped around your shoulder. “Oh, but Sammy,” he cooed, “we have so much to talk about!”

“Goodbye, Ponk!”

“I could tell her about that time your cup-”

“Fuck off, Ponk!”

Giggles poured out of your lips as Sam yanked Ponk off of you to haul you into his own arms, clutching you to his chest like he hoped you wouldn’t be able to hear with his biceps over each ear. “Awe, but I’m having such a good time already, Sammy,” you gushed with purpose, laughing harder as you felt him swipe his towel aggressively over your shoulder. 

“Get the fuck out of here, stop giving her ideas!”

“I’m the reason you have this fucking house to yourself!”

“I don’t give a damn: you’re a pest!” 

“Oh, fuck off! We-” You got the sense he was talking to you, but when you tried to pry yourself out of Sam’s pecs, he just held you tighter. “Are gonna talk later, I promise you that!”

The sounds of him jogging away were muffled by Sam batting his towel again as if shooing a pesky fly. Only when Ponk was halfway down the street did he let go of you, and even then his hands stayed connected, trailing down your sides until he found a firm handle in your hips. His eyes softened as he peered down at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

His sincere tone had you snorting into his shirt as he waddled backwards so he could close the front door without letting you go. “He was nice,” you insisted. There was a messy pile of shoes by the door, so you toed yours off, rushing to talk over Sam’s insistence that you didn’t have to. “Sapnap and Punz had to go through my roommate embarrassing me, letting one of yours embarrass you is really the least you could do.”

“Ideally, you’d never meet the team,” he admitted. “They have too much dirt on us.”

“I think that’s exactly why I need to meet all of them.”

He feigned a heart attack to make you laugh, fingertips barely catching yours to tug you along. “Come on, trouble, I gotta check on dinner.”

You could smell the sauce as soon as you stepped into the kitchenette. “Smells good. What are we having?”

He dragged you all the way to the stove top, removing the lid on the pan like he was unveiling the next Mona Lisa as some country singer played from his phone on the counter. “Skillet lasagna. It doesn’t actually taste like lasagna, but it’s good and only takes one pan.”

“Can’t wait,” you hummed. He didn’t seem to be letting go any time soon so you squeezed around him, hand braced on his hip in warning until you were safely behind him, arms wrapped around his broad waist as you tucked your cheek against him right between his shoulder blades. “Hm… you’re warm.”

“I’ve been working.” You can hear the budding sarcasm in his voice, hiding your grin in his shirt. “Slaving away in the kitchen for you like some 50s neglected housewife.”

“And you look so good doing it.” You slapped his ass for good measure. “Oughtta get my belt for not having dinner on the table, though.”

“I might be intimidated if you’ve ever worn a belt.” A sauce coated spoon appeared over his shoulder. “Taste test for me?”

You have to press up on your toes and brace against his back to reach, barely wrapping your lips around the spoon. You blinked in shock as the tangy yet mild flavor bloomed over your tongue. Spices and tomato and the slight influence of the sausage simmering in the pan, all held together by the starchy pasta. “Oh my god.”

“Perfect,” he purred, twisting around to kiss your head in thanks. “I have to add the cheese, then I can play with you while it melts.”

The huff that escaped your lips contradicted the way you insisted, “I’m not a puppy you need to entertain.”

“Of course not: you’re a woman I need to entertain. I let you get bored, you’ll find someone else to make your bitch.”

 “I would never,” you promise, fishing for your phone when you realize that vibrating isn’t just your heart beating through your ass. “I’ve put too much time into training you already.”

His grin stretched impossibly wide. “Woof,”

“I’m sorry,” you winced, “it’s my roommate, it might be important.” Sam gave your hand a squeeze before letting you go. You stepped to the edge of the kitchen and answered. “Hey, Niki, what’s up?”

“Hand me to your toy boy.”

“... What?” You could hear the clatter of the bar she worked at in the background. Either she’d stepped out back or she’d just told everyone to shut up. 

“The phone,” she supplied like that answered any of your questions. “Give him the phone. I need to vet him.” 

You spared a glance to make sure Sam couldn’t hear her before turning your back on him. “Niki, I am not letting you interrogate my date.” Sam’s snort told you he most certainly could hear you, your face flushing red in response. “You only got to the other two because you happened to be with me.”

“I’m gonna keep calling until you let me talk to him.”

“I’ll put my phone on silent, I swear to god I will.”

“I’ll send a bouncer.”

“You don’t know where we are.”

“Your location is on, dummy.”

Sam’s hand entered your view, beckoning for your phone. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised gently. You bit back any scathing remarks and handed it over, watching him tuck it between his shoulder and cheek as he scooped out some ricotta into the pan. “Sam speaking…” He snorted. “Yeah, I like that a lot better. Boy toy present and accounted for… It’s a skillet lasagna. Noodles, Italian sausage, and lots of cheese in a tomato sauce… No, she isn’t, I asked her about food restrictions as soon as she agreed to the date… Of course, I have desert planned-”

“Christ,” you griped, hiding your face in your hands. “This is worse than having you meet my parents,”

“I’ve got ice cream and Little Debbie’s depending on what she’s in the mood for… Yeah, I thought we’d watch a little feel-good TV after dinner… I’m telling you, I’m on top of this shit, Niki. Alright, ‘preciate it. Yup, talk to you later.” You didn’t trust the grin on his lips as he hung up, and you trusted it even less when he reached past your open hand to slide your phone back into your pocket, hand staying cupped over your left ass cheek. “Niki says ‘hi,’” he reported, “and she approves of me so far.”

His snug shirt made his pecs look like the perfect place to bury your shame, so you gave into temptation and face-planted between them. “Anything else she say to utterly humiliate me?”

He gave you a comforting pat on the ass, clicking his tongue. “It’s sweet: she cares about you.”

You shook your head. “No, she just saw how shitty my taste in men is from the last time, so she wants to make sure I don’t bring a murderer into our dorm or something.”

A beat. A belated breath where you aren’t sure what to make of his silence. 

“... You know, Sapnap told me-”

“Oh, christ.”

Another pat. “Hush. Sapnap told me you do this. She likes you. She told me so. Accept it.”

“She did not.”

“She did. She said she trusted me to treat you well, so I told her I appreciated it, and she said she’d still get all the details from you tomorrow so not to try anything. People love you. You’re lovable. Deal with it.”

“I’ll suffocate myself in your chest, I swear I will.”

“Alright,” he relented with a dramatic sigh. “Too serious, I get it. I’ll let it go for tonight, but we’re gonna systematically increase your self-love before you know it.”

“Don’t gaslight me into loving myself!”

“I’ll do it,” he threatened, picking you up by the hips as easily as if he was plucking a flower. Your yelp only made him laugh as he set you on the counter, rubbing his hands down your thighs. “There you go, sweetheart, set you up sitting pretty for me,” he mused with a hum. You puckered at him, a grin threatening to break as he fell for it without falter, sharing a tender kiss with you. “Look so pretty tonight,” he murmured against your lips, pressing in for another kiss. “I love this dress on you.” 

Your lips tugged into a grin that spread to his as you felt his fingers skimming up the sides of your leggings, lifting your skirt with them. “Doesn’t seem like it,”

“Well, I love when you’re au natural, too. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

You shook your head, halfheartedly shooing him off of you. “What a goober.”

“Goober,” he snorted and gave your hips a firm squeeze. “Alright, well, this goober needs his taste tester. Gonna put you to work.”

“Let me have it,” you threatened with a grin, kicking your legs as he left your range. You were practically salivating as he plated up a healthy scoop and grated a white cheese over it. “Oh my god, literally, let me have it.” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming. God, so hard to satisfy you-”

“That looks cheesy, and delicious, and cheesy-” He slotted back between your legs, but held the bowl away from your reaching hands. “Don’t toy with me, Sam,” you warned. “You’ll lose a finger like that.”

Sam shook his head, but the sly curl of his lips betrayed him. “It’s hot,” he insisted, gathering a heaping forkful and blowing on it. “You burn that smart mouth and I don’t get to kiss you goodnight after dinner. Open up for me, sweetheart.” 

There was a deep need to quip something about that not being the first time you’ve heard that, but it was overridden by an even deeper need to absolutely destroy your body with copious amounts of cheese and pasta being hand-fed to you by tall, dark and handsome.

“Aah,” you permitted, welcoming the forkful like an old friend. Your eyes rolled back as the flavors exploded over your tongue, savory and just slightly sweet from the sausage, all perfectly wrapped in tomato and cheese. “So good.” The words came out around half a mouthful still tucked into your cheek, but he’s already getting another bite for you. You raced to swallow so you could laugh without being disgusting, fingers wrapping around his thick wrist, but it did nothing to impede his advance. “Sam-” He pressed the fork past your lips while they were open, a smug grin forming as he wiped some spilled sauce off your chin, sucking it off his thumb before he went for another bite. “It’s good, Sam- Sam!” 

<3E>

“I can’t believe you would do this to me.”

Sam’s hand on your back rubbed tender circles, an attempt to re-win your favor after this brutal betrayal. In what world could a man who does this to you still be considered a friend? Let alone a lover. You’ve been scorned, and you know what they say about when you do that to a woman. “I didn’t think we’d watch the entire series in one sitting.” 

“Why would they end it there?!” You buried your face in his neck, any shame lost when he’d insisted you watch TV from on top of him, and flinched at the stinging pain in your eyes. “Ooh, ow, I think that’s the first time I’ve blinked in a while.”

“Close your eyes for a minute, let ‘em readjust.” 

A rumble bubbled out of your throat as his fingers moved to massage the base of your head, your body melting further against him even as you insisted, “I should get going.”

The silence stretched for a minute, the only sounds in the room your content mumbling as he found more skin to rub. 

“... You could stay the night,” 

And, well, you didn’t know what to say to that. Of course, you could, but it was a matter of should. Staying the night in a frat house was usually something you actively avoided, and usually you were drunk as a skunk when you made that decision, so you had no excuse to falter now. 

Sam’s arms tightened just barely around you, lips pressing to your head. “I don’t like the thought of you driving home this late. The flocks of drunks will be on the road about now.” 

And there was your excuse. “I’ll stay.” You kissed the thick vein on his neck when he didn’t respond. “You’ll have to lend me a jersey to sleep in, though.” 

He pressed another kiss to your hair. “Sweater,”

“Oh, pardon me-” His chest started shaking under you as he silently laughed, spreading a smile across your lips. “I don’t keep track of all your silly little nicknames for things that already have names-” 

“Fuck off,” he wheezed, broad hand clapping down on your ass. “Go brush your teeth while I find you something to wear.”

You burrowed deeper into his chest defiantly. “I didn’t bring a toothbrush.”

“There’s a bin of spares in the bathroom cabinet: we’re not animals.” 

“Ugh!” Your palms slapped his chest, pushing yourself up. “Making me get up when I’m so comfy: it’s cruel!” 

“Oh, I know, darlin’,” he promised, hands snapping to your hips as you started wiggling. Your foot was stuck in the sofa crack. “I’m so mean.” 

“The worst.” You couldn’t reach out with the foot on the outer edge, you’d be sending your other foot deeper into the couch and if Sam saw you fight with a sofa you would simply die. So you wiggled the trapped foot free first. You just had to swing it over onto the floor, no problem, you’ve been walking since you were a baby- And you were falling. “Shit-” 

“Shit!” 

You realized, probably too late, that you weren’t in pain, and slowly peeled your eyes open. 

Sam shook his head from where he looked down at you, fingers splayed over the back of your head and the other arm braced on the coffee table, holding you both above the floor. “You are trouble, sweetheart,” he told you, but you couldn’t muster up any offense when he smiled at you so softly, lifting your head to his lips. “You alright?” You nodded, feeling yourself tremble, though you weren’t quite sure why. He’d caught you. You were fine. You just fell. Not a big deal. 

“Come back up here, sweetheart.” He hauled you back onto his lap- sitting this time, chest to chest. He pulled you tighter against him, hands rubbing up and down your back, as if he was trying to convince you to melt once again. 

“I forgot about the table.”

You meant to say thank you. Or maybe I’m sorry. Does your hand hurt? You hit it on the table protecting my head. 

“First thing I thought of.” 

You wondered if that was what he’d meant to say. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart.” He helped you off his lap this time, hand clutched in his all the way up the stairs and into his bedroom. You took it in- knew you had to distract yourself. Two twin beds on opposite walls, just like your own dorm. Surprisingly neat for the home of two guys, skates and sticks hanging from designated hooks on the wall over two stacked duffles, no clothes on the floor, beds made. You’d almost not believe Sam actually lived here if there wasn’t a Texas State flag over the window. 

“Aha!”

You dragged yourself back down to Earth, focusing back on Sam. Regret immediately surged. “No.”

He tried to pout, but he was about two feet too tall and a foot too wide for you to buy it. “You said you wanted my clothes for pajamas.” 

“I said jersey-” At this point the misuse of the word was intentional. “-not ‘Bigger in Texas’ boxers.”

“You need pants. What if Sapnap comes home? It’s his room, too.”

“I think Sapnap’s more likely to pounce me if I wear those.” 

Sam managed to sink an arm up to the shoulder in his dresser drawer as he heaved a great sigh. “Will you compromise with me?”

“Do I want to know what a compromise with you entails?”

He pulled out a pair with the Texas flag printed on them. “How ‘bout these?”

Your spider-sense went off: there was an opportunity afoot. “I’ll wear those,” you mused, “if you give me my panties back.” 

He put them back. “For that price, I wanna see you in the gag pair.”

“Flag pair, and I trade for the panties I’m wearing.”

“You’re a con artist,” he claimed, but handed them over anyway. He fished his jersey out of a different drawer and offered it as well. “Bathroom’s the only open door down the hall. I’ll go find what Punz did with them.”

“He said he hung them,” you threw out after him, shaking your head as boisterous laughter faded down the hall. 

You tried not to think while you stripped. You tried not to grin as you plundered the basket of still packaged toothbrushes and travel toothpastes with a barely legible, ‘thank you for your sacrifice’ post-it. You nearly succeeded, too, until you saw the mirror. 

… Should I leave my makeup on? 

The washcloth felt like lead in your hands as you worked it over. It’s not like they haven’t seen you bare-faced. You weren’t exactly dressed to the nines when they abducted you for movies and truck sex. Not to mention what you looked like after…

But he just saw you. You didn’t want to give him whiplash. But, if you walked into your dorm with clogged pores to please a man, you’re fairly confident Niki would slap you stupid. Of course, all of this is for naught if Sam is expecting something when you come out. Then again, you’re not sure trying to put you in boxers with ‘Bigger in Texas’ across the crotch was supposed to get you in the mood-

“Don’t be dumb.” 

You scrubbed over your cheeks as your internal voice changed. Niki was practically in the room with you- you could see her pouty scowl as she stood on one leg to kick you across the butt. “Mans saw you fucked to high hell after two different orgies, he can handle a little discolored skin.”  

You managed your entire routine with the meager supplies found in a frat bathroom, which should qualify you for a Nobel Prize of some kind, and consulted your wardrobe options. Options being in heavy air-quotes. The sweater was as nice as when he first draped it over you, maybe even more sans bra. The heavy fabric hung over your figure, loose and soft, brushing across your thighs as it settled. 

It smelled like Sam. 

The thought brought a soft heat to your face, pulling the collar up to your nose. Just to confirm, obviously! Just to see if it was just a musky fabric softener. To see if Sam really smelled like evergreen trees and cinnamon. 

You were totally stealing this thing. 

He probably had spares, right? Doesn’t matter: he could have to play in his boxers for all you care. Serves him right: he’s two-for-three on panty theft. Three-for-three if you count failed attempts. Fair trade. Sound logic.

Tap tap tap

You swung open the door. “Show me the warrant!”

Your panties dangled from his pointer finger, a quip on the tip of his tongue, before the coy curl of his lips fell away to a soft ‘o’. “Holy shit- I mean, hey.” A snort escaped you as he tried too hard to act cool, leaning against the door frame, the fabric of his tank top stretching across his chest. His lips curled back up, softer this time as he reached out and pinched your nose. “Don’t laugh at me! I forgot how good you look in my sweater- god-damn, baby, you ever thought about joining a women’s league? Or- Or a playboy calendar?”

“We’ll see how well you play this season,” you bargained, “maybe I’ll make you something.”

“You’re too good,” he praised, index giving a gentle tap under your chin to coax your lips to his. You hummed, pretending to really think it over, until he pouted at you, bottom lip soft and plush as he trembled it with purpose. 

You caved, smile fitting against smile, diving in for another as soon as you parted. “You’re cute when you pout,” you mumbled against him. 

“How dare you,” he countered, but still came back in for more. “Are you implying I’m not always cute?”

“You’re always handsome.” The lacy fabric slipped from his grip and into yours, hand splayed across his chest giving the gentlest nudge so you had room to breathe. You waved the underwear at him. “Maybe not when you’re stealing from me.” 

“Stealing!” His arm came around your back and dragged you into his chest. “I would never stoop so low-”

“You’re smothering me!”

“The fact that you could even accuse me of such a crime-”

“Oh my god!” His chest shook with muffled laughter under your cheek as you reached around to swing wildly at his butt. “I thought you wanted to go to bed.”

“Great idea, sugar.” One broad hand across your ass and one hooked behind your knee hoisted you up, legs snapping around his waist like second nature. “You’re so smart.” 

“I still haven’t put on your shorts.”

“Ah, you don’t need ‘em. It’d be a crime to cover up this cute ass of yours.” 

“Yeah, you’re a pain in that ass, y’know that?”

“I didn’t, actually,” he mused, tossing you onto the mattress. “Never knew that. Fascinating. Pick your side of the bed, sweetheart.” 

You pressed yourself against the wall and settled in, watching him skirt around the room. The bedside lamp got turned on, casting stars all over the ceiling. Close the door to the hall and turn the overhead light off. You had the thought to warn him of his pads on the floor the same second he stubbed his toe and let out a curse. “That was hot,” you drawled, a lazy grin stretching across your lips as he cackled, falling into bed beside you. 

“You know it, darlin’!” He slapped a quick kiss over your lips, pulling away before you could even return it, pulling his sheets up over you. “There, that’s better. You settled, sweetheart?” You puckered at him, but he only grinned back at you, lopsided and dopey in the dim light, stars dancing over the side of his face. “What’chu need, sweet girl?”

You puckered at him again. “Goodnight kiss.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he pretended to muse, even as his arm came over your waist to pull you tighter into his chest. His nose dusting against yours. “I think I made dinner: you should be giving me goodnight kisses.”

“Mm, I think I can handle that.”

There were no fireworks. No fluttering butterflies dancing in your stomach or any other part of your digestive system for that matter. But there was warmth. The warmth of his breath in your throat and his arm around your waist. Of the covers over you and his leg creeping between yours. Your heart climbing out of your body and soaring into the sky. The settling realization that this wonderful man who made you a delicious dinner and insisted on holding you tight for an entire series wanted to finish your night with nothing more than sweet kisses under the artificial stars.

When he pulls away, you chase him, teeth capturing his bottom lip just for a moment. “I l- I like the stars.”

You’d meant to say something else. Something you absolutely, positively, cannot say right now. Possibly ever.

“Me, too.”

You wondered if that was what he’d meant to say.

[angy-mouse]

Welp

Change of plans bc I'm so sick of having to trust celebrities not to suck for me to write, I'm moving to only fictional men

TEAH is cancelled (might be rewritten for OCs or a different fandom and posted on a different account)

Miss Mayor is cancelled

The Club prequel is cancelled

Puck Bunny is getting finished bc gdi I'm going to finish something in my life

Beating Minecraft and Piglin Fic might get moved to a different account so it's not associated with mcyt

As of rn I'll not deactivate bc I have like 5 emails I can make accounts with, so idc. I'm going to work full-time on the new blog. Feel free to send an ask off-anon asking for my new blog if you want to know, but I'm unsure yet how many people and who I want to know. But I'll keep the asks until I decide, and dm you if I decide to give it out.

[angy-mouse]

alright poll is closed, I'll be editing TEAH to star Sapnap, karl, Corpse, Punz, and Dean Wastaken of Selgia

unless someone suggests a better name

[angy-mouse]

eddie munson is so real of u

honestly mate i have a type, idk what it is but goddamn it has me by the balls /j

[angy-mouse]

forgot to mention: I'm an Eddie Munson and COD girlie atm

lmao u dont have to post these but still on the same alt acc i use tumblr only to read whatever my 3 day obsession is. have not kept up with mcyt since like before i deactivated, have to admit i am a hasanabi head fulltime now, is the fandom alive like at all on here now

- niko still

A) I actually don't know your alt B) no idea who that is and C) uh no /lh

[angy-mouse]

lmao u dont have to post these but still on the same alt acc i use tumblr only to read whatever my 3 day obsession is. have not kept up with mcyt since like before i deactivated, have to admit i am a hasanabi head fulltime now, is the fandom alive like at all on here now

- niko still

A) I actually don't know your alt B) no idea who that is and C) uh no /lh

[angy-mouse]

gonna be closing the poll sometime in the next few days so make your opinion known if you have one

I'd appreciate if anyone still around could take a minute to answer this, I'm struggling to figure out what to do with myself

I'm gonna go ahead and tag some people I especially want the opinion of (for recent or frequent activity) below

@dumb-errors-blog @brainvomitqueen @rebirthbunbun @darknessrosie @chokemekarl @boobberries @wtf-is-cottagecheese

[angy-mouse]

hi mouse literally never use this but i always get notifs when u post again. nice to see like a remaining soldier lmfao sending u love always 🧡🧡 gonna read thru ur newer works

- niko or slapnap (what a weird alias i picked)

likewise I love to hear from a retired general /gen honestly not much new is posted but if you want I could totally share some drafts docs with you, feel free to dm

[angy-mouse]

hey homes! i was just wondering if ur still doing the prequel for “the club” no pressure, was just curious :)

probably, since the prequel was always going to be sapnap only, but I'll almost definitely not be doing any of the additional installments i was thinking of bc honestly certain series seem like they'll be more hassle than they're worth no matter what option I decide to go through on. TEAH I'm fighting for bc it's years of my life invested at this point bc i was planning it for months before I ever told yall about it, Miss Mayor is an easy adjustment since hes not been written in yet i can just scrap the theoretical chapter, and Beating Minecraft and Piglin Fic were never going to have any CCs so they're safe. But like Monster Manor, liveinwhore, and theclub are kinda just fucked unless like obscene amounts of yall protest bc they're just not worth it to me

also tbfh the main reason the prequel is not getting done fast is bc it's on a separate doc than everything else I'm working on atm just genuinely out of sight out of mind. whoopsie?

[angy-mouse]

hey i'm just gonna delete boobberries because it's too much of a headache. i love and miss you, you know how to contact me. feel free to post this ask so that people know where it went lol

-roni

alright homes take care of yourself

[angy-mouse]

okay the person who did other: I appreciate your candor /pos

[angy-mouse]

side note I did the tags in like 30seconds flat please don't be offended if you thought you're one of my top babes and were disappointed I haven't been here in like literally a year and I don't remember ppl by names I remember vibes and speech patterns I still love you all /p

I'd appreciate if anyone still around could take a minute to answer this, I'm struggling to figure out what to do with myself

I'm gonna go ahead and tag some people I especially want the opinion of (for recent or frequent activity) below

@dumb-errors-blog @brainvomitqueen @rebirthbunbun @darknessrosie @chokemekarl @boobberries @wtf-is-cottagecheese

[angy-mouse]

I'd appreciate if anyone still around could take a minute to answer this, I'm struggling to figure out what to do with myself

I'm gonna go ahead and tag some people I especially want the opinion of (for recent or frequent activity) below

@dumb-errors-blog @brainvomitqueen @rebirthbunbun @darknessrosie @chokemekarl @boobberries @wtf-is-cottagecheese

[angy-mouse]

Hope you’re doing good mous!

Make sure you’re taking care of yourself and eating

Miss you

-🐑

Iiiiiii am doing none of the above >.> but appreciate the thoughts

[angy-mouse]

Chapter 8: A Brief Intermission for Panic

I decided keeping tumblr a chapter behind ao3 was more trouble than its worth

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“Make a hole, people!”

If you were calmer, you would take the time to reflect on how much you appreciated Minx and her ability to send people scrambling out of her way. It was the kind of brash authority that you simply couldn’t exert as a royal- you had to keep your authority very dignified, something that was more subtle and unspoken.

However, you were not calm, and ninety-five percent of your brain was focused on not fleeing to your bedroom to hide under the covers forever.

“It’s fine- everything’s fine. It’s not like I’ve spent weeks planning this, sending out invitations to four kingdoms' nobility and dangling the promise of a possible joint heir for three princes over their heads only to possibly cancel an hour before the ceremony-”

Maids and butlers alike flattened themselves against the walls as Minx stormed past them, knowing infinitely better than to not heed her warning- especially when she was dragging you by the wrist like a naughty child.

You happened to lock eyes with Niki and knew the look on your face must be something awful: she chucked her armful of napkins at the nearest person and threw open the doors to your drawing room like there was a fire. “In, in, in,” she chirped, letting Minx stomp her way inside with you right behind before she closed the doors behind you three. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You swore someone had your throat in a vice. Your heart was swinging a sledgehammer against your rib cage with every beat, desperate to get out. You stubbed your toe on the couch before you realized you were pacing. “H-How could I overlook this? I planned everything- I planned for everything!”

“Pumpkin forgot what a concubine is,”

“Did you notice neither Prince Corpse nor Karl’s parents were there? Because I didn’t! Because I was distracted, ogling at two of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen! I don’t ogle! An emperor doesn’t ogle!”

Minx’s voice rang through the room, barely noticed by your racing thoughts. “It’s okay, hun, just talk it out.”

“I mean, at least Dream seems to be a smarmy, pretentious sleaze, but he’s still physically attractive, I mean that was the point of not just accepting randomly, but it’s completely different when they’re standing right in front of you. Even Sapnap grew up to be a total hunk, I mean when I hugged him I thought he could snap me in half with those arms, he’s built like a brick wall, and I’m totally into that. But I can’t think of him like that, I mean we’ve taken baths together, for gods’ sake-” You saw Sapnap- present-day Sapnap- reclined in a bubbly tub, beckoning you to join him, and flung your hands to cover your face. “No, no, bad mind, stop that!”

“She’s had dirty thoughts before this, right?”

“I honestly don’t know at this point.”

You parted your fingers to glare at them, though based on the heat in your cheeks, it wasn’t at all intimidating. “Those are thoughts! These are real men, who I’m supposed to regularly have sex with- oh, god, I could get pregnant.”

“Okay, that’s enough spiraling,” Niki decided firmly, crossing the room to hold you by the shoulders. “Sweetie, take some deep breaths and listen to me, okay?”

“Okay,”

“You are the emotionally strongest woman I’ve ever met.” Her lips twitched into a faint smile as you mindlessly nodded along, accepting her words without question. “You can keep your cool while dozens of uptight nobles stupidly debate your decision, and you can look Babish in the eye with crumbs on your lips and tell him you didn’t sneak a snack. You can totally handle a few guys being flirty.”

“Yeah,” you realized with a nod, “I can handle this.”

“You are a gorgeous, sexy, full-figured woman who turns every head in the room without even trying. Those princes are in the library right now, each one praying to catch your eye.”

“I am gorgeous!”

“And if they dare try anything you don’t want, Minx will cut off their dicks.”

Minx raised the glass of brandy she’d stolen from the end table. “Hear, hear,” she chimed, downing it in one go.

“Plus, you wrote the contracts to expire in a year, so worst case scenario we have a eunuch wandering around for some months.”

“You’re right,” you breathed, slowly nodding. “You’re absolutely right. I’m in control here, it doesn’t matter how handsome or charming… kind… did you see the flower crown Karl made me? O-Or the ring from Corpse? Sapnap brought me-”

Niki snapped her fingers in front of your nose like you were a puppy for her to train. “Focus.”

“Right, right, focus. Calm, cool, collected, confident.” You took a few deep breaths, squaring your shoulders and fixing your posture. You set your features as pleasant, but stern, and tried to embody your mental image of a glorious emperor.

“Just like that,” Niki cheered, spinning you around by the shoulders. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger!” Her hand cracking down on your ass spurred you into action, and you strutted to the door, throwing it open with a confident flourish. Your little party’s footsteps echoed through the long hall as you walked, until you had a sudden realization and froze in place.

“Wait- Niki, you can’t spank me, I’m your emperor.”

“Just go, I have tables to set.”

“Yeah, okay,”

[angy-mouse]

are you going to participate in kinktober Totally fine if you dont I just want to know

nope, like I said, I'm only writing my series' anymore

[angy-mouse]

Night One

I have no chapter summary I have no content warnings all I have is the contents of a post-it note I wrote at 2 am:

soft zomboi eats you passes harkness test?

.... anyway 18+ ahead bye-

<Prev

You spawned in a gorgeous flower field. Blues and reds and pinks and yellows for miles on end, blanketing the earth as far as the eye could see. You picked them as you walked, crafting a flower crown for yourself before starting on a necklace to match. Floral scents wafted on the breeze, mixing together into a natural perfume that wrapped you in the spring-like bliss that made the passage of time irrelevant.

Until the sun set. 

Long fingers wrapped around your ankle before you even realized the hand had burst from the ground like one of the many blossoms around it. You tasted dirt as you fell to the ground, heart thrumming in your ears as you were jerkily yanked towards the hole again and again. You heard your own shriek ringing through the quiet night as you fumbled for a hold in the loose dirt, sneakers kicking about wildly before you grew the sense to kick the hand. 

You wrenched your body to the side, throat tightening as you laid eyes on your attacker, halfway pulled out of the ground. 

Something happened. Both at that moment, with your core throbbing in a cruel act of betrayal, and before that. Before you spawned. Because suddenly you could hardly call him a monster. His skin held a sickly hue and he was coated thickly in dirt from crawling out of his own grave…

But his hair looked soft and silky where it hung over crystal blue eyes. The kind of eyes that you saw only on actors and just went wow. The kind of eyes that, when you stomped on his fingers because you were already in motion for fight or flight, showed his pain as clearly as if it was written on a neon sign. 

He released you, and you were sure that moan sounded like an, “ooooooow.” You weren’t an idiot, though, so you scrambled to your feet and you were going to run for your fucking life to find some trees to make a sword-

His eyes became wider than saucers as he started sinking back into the ground. Already filthy fingernails carved thick trenches in the loose dirt, quickly turning into a frantic scramble as he desperately searched for anything solid enough to grip.

It was only as his shoulders sank beneath the grass that you realized he wasn’t trying to pull you in: he was trying to pull himself out.

You snatched his hand just before it disappeared. 

“Fuck me,” you grunted, anchoring your heels as much as you could in what was practically quicksand. You got him pulled up enough you could grab his forearm with your other hand. “Fuck me with a fucking cactus!” You could hear him spitting out dirt but didn’t bother looking, searching for a more solid place to pull towards. “Stupidest fucking idea ever, I’m so going to die for this.” Your ankles were hit by the cold dirt. The more you pulled him out, the more weight displacement dragged you in. If you didn’t find a more solid patch before you got him out…

The flowers. 

It hit you like a shot of adrenaline straight to your heart, kicking your legs into motion. 

Flowers have roots, roots hold the surrounding dirt, get to the flowers. 

You kicked up more dirt than a racehorse charging towards the nearest flower patch. He couldn’t do much to help himself until his feet were free, but long fingers held your own with a grateful kind of desperateness as you dragged him through the loose dirt. When your foot didn’t sink in where you stepped, you gave one final tug that yanked him free-

And knocked you on your ass.

The wind was knocked from your lungs when you landed on your back, then again as the zombie landed on top of you. Your heart thudded in your chest as his hot breath washed over the bare skin of your collarbone, shirt disturbed from your adventure. His lips ghosted over the tender skin just above your breast, shocking a realization into you.

Three, actually.

The first was that there was a flesh eating monster pinning you to the ground.

The second was that he was groaning out, “aaaaan koooo,” which, after only a minute, you deduced to be ‘thank you.’

The third was that that was not a sword poking you.

“Crap,” you groaned. “Okay, no biggie, just gotta make an opportunity to escape-”

His hips rutted against you, a deep moan falling from his lips as if surprised by it himself. His pants weren’t denim like yours- the soft material did nothing to impede the swell of his cock as the friction against your thigh spurred blood flow south. He took a shaky breath against you as if trying to control himself, but it turned into another moan. 

“Sweeeet…”

Sweet. He thinks you smell sweet. You are so getting your brains ate. GG.

With no sword to fight back, you clenched your eyes shut tight and accepted your failure as his jaw fell open, diving for your neck to sink his teeth-

Mwah.

Your eyes blinked open.

Mwah. Mwah.

Vibrations rumbled up the column of your throat as the zombie hummed, a happy noise reminiscent of a tamed cat that perfectly matched the curl of his lips, but nothing else about this situation. 

His tongue swiped across his dry lips to wet them and inadvertently caught a taste of your supple skin, dick jumping in his pants as the sweet flavor worked to completely fill his every sense with you. The flowers combined with your natural scent already had him breathing deeply, and the feeling of your soft body pressed against his as tight as possible-

His lips parted, capturing your neck. Your breath stuttered in your lungs as his tongue laved over the skin, teeth working ever so gently at it as if merely trying to work more into his mouth- as if the thought of biting you was never even entertained. His hips took a smoother pattern, knees digging into the grass on either side of your thigh to better roll against you, still suckling on your neck. 

What could you do?

Technically, lots. You could shove him by the shoulders, headbutt him- your knee was actually in a very optimal position for doing damage. 

But he was moving lower. He was dragging his lips down your collarbones and his hips were moving faster against you and his hot breath washed over your nipples through the thin fabric of your tee-

And he was moaning, mouthing at your tits as he came in his pants- and came, and came. You could feel it soak right through his pants- god there’s no way he’s wearing underwear, how was he buried without underwear?

Focus! After coming so hard, he’d surely be disoriented: you needed to prioritize your escape! Except…

Did you?

Because surely there were other monsters roaming the night, but none seemed to be coming near you. Maybe they were put off by the sounds and smell of sex, maybe they couldn’t see you where you laid in the thick grass. Whatever the reason, they weren’t approaching, and he was pawing at the crotch of your jeans.

“Soooft,” he moaned, clumsy and thick fingers rubbing rough shapes over your mound. He was about as precise as a musket, but even a stopped clock could grind the denim seam against your clit twice a day.

Or something. 

It was hard to think. You were trying to ponder the ethics of intercourse with a technically dead but clearly coherent individual. Did it count as necrophilia if they’re undead? Did this pass the Harkness test? Shit, why can’t you remember what the Harkness test is? 

“Wan…”

You blinked. Baby blues peered into your own eyes. His hands stopped. He licked his lips and his brows furrowed. 

“Want,” he tried again, “wan eat too-” A sound came out of his throat, having begun deep in his chest and worked its way through him. It sounded truly monstrous: the first sign since he crawled out of the dirt that he truly was a zombie. 

He shoved his face in your stomach, shaking his head. Your first instinct it to shove him off since it really looked like he was going to gorge himself on your liver, but you managed to calm it into a minor twitch of your leg. He hadn’t shown you any harm so far, and what little compassion you had left after years of playing this ‘game’ compelled you to show him the same respect. 

When he lifted his head again you could see the sparkle of budding tears in his eyes and that small bud of compassion bloomed larger. Your hands moved faster than your brain, one combing through his dirty hair and one cupping his upturned cheek. His entire body went lax at the touch, weakly moaning as he laid his head on your stomach. 

You came to the dreadful conclusion that he looked good like this. He had a sharp profile that was softened by long lashes that drifted over his cheekbones every time he breathed deeply, his breaths out being shakier for a reason you couldn’t quite tell. You could feel him growing hard again, pressed against your shin this time.

Fuck, he was big. You told yourself there was no harm in thoughts, that they were impulsive and therefore couldn’t be held to ethical standards, because you didn’t want to hate yourself when an attractive guy was grinding his monster cock against you. Monster, you reminded yourself. A mob. But thoughts were okay. There was no harm in thinking about how wrecked you’d be if you fucked yourself on his cock. 

He growled again- that monstrous zombie growl that was somehow so out of place coming from him. “Shellsa sweet,” he mustered up, voice strained and breathy as he pressed his lips against the sliver of skin where your shirt had ridden up. “Wan’ tank koo. Wan’ eat too. Peas!”

Something clicked. Something connected in your brain. The tears made sense if they were of frustration. Frustration as this completely coherent grown man was suddenly unable to form the words he wanted- the words he needed to convey.

You smell so sweet. 

I want to thank you. 

I want to eat you.

Please!

He took a deep breath, and it dawned on you how close he was to your weeping cunt when he moaned, hips bucking down on your leg like he was ready for another round. Like he had no more control that a horny mutt, humping your leg like that. But he didn’t move otherwise. He’d asked. Now he’d wait for you to either agree or not, you realized. He was lucid enough to ask for consent, and he was sure as shit lucid enough to respect it. 

You supposed that solved your dilemma. 

“Fuck me- yes,” you managed with a thick swallow. “Yes, I want it.” You could practically watch your words sink in: he was glowing when he realized. Surprisingly not disgusting teeth bared wide in an eager grin before he pressed hard kisses down your navel, grunting displeased when your jeans didn’t pull away at the first tug. “Let me-”

He did not let you.

He took a firm grip on either side of your button and tore right through the seams until you had a pair of denim leg warmers.

“Okay, that works, too, I guess. Fuck, I’m gonna have to kill so many cows for some leggings now-” He removed your panties the same way and discarded them on the grass. “Motherfucker, you really- hoooooo fuck!”

He dove tongue first into your pussy like he’d been through a drought. His moans vibrating through your very core as he ate you out as eagerly as if the act pleasured him as much as you. And maybe it did, because as his nose rubbed against your clit, his hips jerked wildly against you. He grabbed the meat of your thigh with both hands, yanking it up to hold tightly against the side of his head to open you up, letting his tongue drive deeper until it was lapping at your g-spot. God, his tongue was long. He was reaching farther into your core than your fingers ever could- you weren’t someone who easily came without clitoral stimulation, but he was making a damn good go at it. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, one clumsy hand left your thigh to paw mindless but determined shapes against your bud, using his own thick saliva to ease the calloused pad of his finger over the sensitive nerves. Despite the animalistic way he fucked his tongue into you, he stayed perfectly attentive to the slightest change in your moans, exploring your body with his hands and tongue until he found the most amazing combination of movements to have you grinding against his face. And he seemed to love it, moaning into your pussy as you shoved his nose against you to the point you were sure he couldn’t breathe- if he ever could. 

You could hear him come again, but more importantly you could feel his movements become more determined, more forceful, as if he was desperate to give you the same pleasure you’d given him. And that was the thought that pushed you over- the thought that rang through your mind as everything else was drowned out by a tidal wave. 

You didn’t do anything but let him service you.

Just from that, his pants were wet against your leg.

He moaned louder than you did as you came, tongue curling inside you as if he was trying to steal every last drop of your cum. He carried you through your orgasm, only pulling his thumb away from your clit when you started twitching, trying to jerk your hips back but having no strength left to do so. His tongue stayed, lapping up every taste of you from your fluttering cunt before he started kitten-licking your folds and clit, soft hums vibrating through your sensitive nerves as he made sure he’d taken everything he could from you. 

When he climbed back up your body you could feel his giant cock already back to half-mast, but bigger than that you could feel his wide grin as he pressed tender kisses up the side of your neck and face, hands gently exploring your body still, fingers digging into the soft skin of your waist as he held you tightly against his body. 

You were just about ready to tell him to take you now and hard when he let out an ear-piercing shriek. His screams bounced around in your skull, paralyzing you as he scrambled off your body, showing a glimpse of a fiery red burn spreading over his arm.

The sun was coming up. 

He dove for the tall grass, but the weak fibers flattened under his weight. Golden rays burned a path over any exposed skin, peeling through muscle and bleaching the bone beneath faster than light. He leapt for his grave in a last ditch effort, sinking back into the cool earth.

There was a minute where you just laid there, listening to the birds wake with the dawn. The warm sun kissed over your bare skin as if taunting your lover. The feeling of eyes on you washed over you, even though you knew that was impossible with the sun killing all the mobs, but you still found yourself crossing your legs.  “... What the fuck.”