#IT WAS SO MUCH FUCKING FUN AND WE COULD SEE THE ARM OF THE MILKY WAY!!!!!!!!!

[harrylights]

✨ I GAY STARGAZED ✨

[weemssapphic]

hi :) I just wanted to say I love your writing so much I always come back to your stories. I was wondering if I could request a super soft smut between Larissa and virgin f!reader? I just love soft Larissa sm <3

hey there! thank you for the compliment, and the request! 🥰 it's here, finally <3 i had so much fun writing something super sweet and domestic for once, soft!larissa is my favorite! ao3 link is in the title <3

I Wanna Be Yours

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

words: ~3k

warnings/content: nsfw, cunnilingus (reader receiving), fingering (larissa receiving), loss of virginity (virgin!reader), fluff, brief mention of alcohol

“What movie are we watching tonight?” Your eyes flicked eagerly to the television as you settled on Larissa’s couch, tucking your legs underneath you. Larissa padded into the living room, carrying two wine glasses, a bottle of her favorite red tucked under her arm.

She was barefoot, face devoid of makeup, hair down from its usual elaborate updo and cascading over her shoulders. It was rare to see the woman like this - as her girlfriend, you thought you might be the only person privy to this side of her, and the thought filled you with a smug sort of pride.

“Whatever you want to watch, darling.” Larissa poured two generous glasses of wine and handed you the remote, sitting back on the couch and opening her arms to you. You wasted no time in crawling towards her, leaning back into her embrace and sighing as her arms snaked their way around your waist.

Twisting in her grip, you grinned up at her. “Notting Hill?”

Larissa rolled her eyes, unable to stop her lips from curling up at the outer corners. “Again?”

“Come on, please?” You gave your girlfriend your best pout, though you knew it wouldn’t even take that. She huffed in faux-annoyance and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Fine, but I get to pick the movie next week.”

“Deal.” You fiddled with the remote until the opening credits started playing, then fetched both glasses of wine from the table. 

It was a little ritual of yours that you’d started soon into your relationship; movie nights every Friday. Larissa often worked late during the week, but she made sure to free up her weekends so she could spend as much time with you as possible. 

Larissa let out a soft moan as her first sip of wine passed her lips, the sound shooting straight to your core. Two months since you’d gone official with Larissa you hadn’t had sex yet. It’s not that you hadn’t thought about it. No, you’d thought about it almost every day. How could you not? Simply the sight of your girlfriend made your mouth water. The sway of her hips when she left a room, those smooth milky white thighs. You’d imagined what it would feel like to have them wrapped around your head as you lapped eagerly at her core, wondering how she would taste on your tongue. 

You’d never actually gotten that far with anyone though, you were still a virgin - and the thought of somehow fucking up, of letting Larissa down, absolutely terrified you. And by some miracle, Larissa was more than understanding. She never pushed you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with, she always checked in on you, and she let you take the lead. Most importantly, she hadn’t gone running for the hills when you’d broken the news. “You, my darling, are worth waiting for,” she’d said, eyes shining, pulling you in for a soft kiss.

Larissa was making it increasingly hard for you to keep your composure, however. Tonight, she’d already changed into her nightwear - a short, lavender matching set, the bottoms of which were riding up from her position on the couch, exposing the soft skin of her upper thighs. It rubbed up against your own bare leg, setting your skin ablaze. 

You peeked over your shoulder at Larissa, mesmerized as her tongue darted over her lips to swipe absently at a stray drop of wine. The action caused your breath to hitch in your chest, a sound that didn’t go unnoticed by your girlfriend.

“Darling, are you alright?” Her brows furrowed in concern as you stared at her, hunger evident in your gaze. She plucked your wine glass from your hand, setting both glasses on the coffee table and cupping your cheek, running a soothing thumb along your jaw.

You twisted around and straddled Larissa’s lap, tangling your hands in her hair as you pressed your lips to hers in a sloppy kiss. Larissa chuckled into your mouth at the desperation behind the kiss. She slid her tongue against yours, her hands coming to rest on your waist as she pulled you closer.

You felt hot all over as a flame blazed behind your navel, extending outward. The ache in your core was unbearable. You were starting to grow wet, leaking into your panties, and your clit was throbbing but you had no way to relieve yourself. Desperately, you began to roll your hips against Larissa’s, searching blindly for some sort of friction.

“Mmm… slow down, love,” Larissa sounded slightly out of breath. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” It was meant as a lighthearted jest; your virginity had become sort of a running joke between the two of you at times.

This time, though, you doubled down, crashing your lips needily into Larissa’s and shifting so you could grind your pelvis on her thigh, earning a wanton moan from the blonde as she felt your warmth through the fabric of your shorts. “Don’t wanna slow down,” you mumbled.

Larissa’s eyes widened and she brought her hands to your hips, forcefully stilling your movements. “Look at me,” she commanded, voice soft but firm. You met her gaze, shocked by the unadulterated lust that swirled in blown pupils. “Tell me what you want. I need you to say it.”

“You. I want you, Larissa. Take me to bed?” 

“You’re ready?” The excitement was evident in her voice and Larissa’s eyes darted between yours as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, as if afraid she had misheard you. 

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Larissa was all over you in a second, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. She pushed you off her lap so she could stand, pulling you up with her and guiding you towards the bedroom with her hands on your hips, lips never leaving your skin.

Larissa’s hands dipped below the hem of your tank top, pushing the fabric up until your breasts were exposed. She lowered her head and flicked her warm tongue over your nipple, the sensation drawing a moan from your chest.

She began to suck your nipple into a hard peak, kneading your other breast in her hand before switching sides. She slipped the tank top up over your head and dropped it to the floor, then began kissing reverently down your torso until she reached the waistband of your shorts.

“May I take these off?” Larissa gazed up at you through her lashes and your stomach fluttered.

“Please.” You bit your lip as your girlfriend pulled your shorts down your legs, then focused her attention on your panty-clad sex. She pressed a kiss to your mound through your panties, moaning at the scent of your arousal.

You bucked your hips towards her instinctively, your hands coming to rest in her hair, pushing her closer to your center. Larissa hooked her fingers around the waistband of your panties, shooting you a questioning gaze to which you responded with an affirming nod, before pulling those down your legs, too.

“Now I’m completely naked and you’re not,” you pouted playfully, self-consciously crossing your arms across your chest. 

Larissa laughed, tossing her head back, platinum curls going everywhere. She stood to her full height, towering over you as she rid herself of her clothing. Your breath hitched in your chest as you drank in the stunning form of your girlfriend, bare before you. 

You’d caught glimpses of her before, getting changed for work in the mornings when you’d slept over - padding around the apartment in her bra in search of her earrings, or asking you for help with the zipper of her dress - but nothing could have prepared you for this. For the perfect swell of her breasts, the way her nipples hardened against the chill in the air, the curve of her hips, the pale expanse of soft thighs.

She smiled knowingly as she watched your eyes rove hungrily over her form, encircling her arms around your waist and pulling you in for a soft, loving kiss, your bare skin pressing against hers. Electricity seemed to tingle on the surface of your skin, your entire body buzzing restlessly. 

“Is this better?” Larissa murmured against your lips, and you sighed, nodding and deepening the kiss. Larissa seemed to pick up on your urgency and guided you onto your back, hovering over you and pulling up to look down at you. 

“Are you sure about this?” Her eyes searched yours for confirmation, for any sign of hesitance, finding only desire in your widened pupils.

“Absolutely. I’m ready, Riss, and I’m yours. I want you to be my first.” You wanted there to be no doubt in Larissa’s mind that you wanted this just as much as she did, despite your nerves.

Larissa cupped your cheek affectionately, pressing an adoring kiss to your lips. “Then tell me what you want, my love. Shall I start with my fingers or my mouth?”

You could already feel your cheeks warm at Larissa’s words - or rather, the prospect of having to verbalize your desires. “Can you use your mouth?”

Larissa shot you a wicked grin as she brought her lips to the column of your throat and began to place open-mouthed kisses to every inch of skin that she could reach on her way down, hands squeezing your breasts. She rolled and pinched your nipples between her fingers, eliciting a whine from your throat.

Her lips made their way down your stomach, biting and sucking, her tongue soothing over the little red and purple marks that she left. With every nip at your sensitive flesh, you could feel yourself getting wetter, a trail of goosebumps being left behind in Larissa’s wake. Finally, she settled between your thighs, parting them with her hands. 

“Darling, you’re so wet for me,” Larissa’s voice was low and sultry, dripping with lust. And she was right, your cunt was already drenched and she hadn’t even touched you yet.

Larissa hooked her arms around your thighs, allowing you to rest your legs on her shoulders, and dragged you closer to her, so that she could bury her face in your cunt.

She peppered the insides of your thighs with kisses, getting drunk on the heavy scent of your arousal. Each kiss was placed closer and closer to your pussy until, finally, her tongue slid through your folds, causing you to buck your hips up into her mouth.

“You taste so good,” she moaned. “So worth the wait, my love.” She began to lap at your pussy, teasing your entrance with the tip of her tongue before closing her lips around your clit and sucking.

Larissa let out a moan which vibrated against your cunt, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You writhed beneath her, rolling your hips against her face in search of more friction.

“You’re doing so well for me, darling. Is this alright?”

“Mm… yeah,” you panted, bringing your hands to your girlfriend’s hair to anchor yourself.

Larissa dipped her tongue into your entrance again, finding a steady rhythm and bringing you closer and closer to the edge. She could tell how close you were by the way your walls began to flutter around her tongue.

“Good girl,” Larissa cooed. “Do you think you can come for me?”

You moaned at her words, at the low timbre of her voice. You had expected sex to be pleasurable but what you foolishly hadn’t accounted for was how Larissa could expertly guide you to your peak with her voice alone. You tightened your grip in her hair and she doubled down, twisting her tongue inside your center.

Your thighs clenched around her head as your orgasm crested like a wave, washing over you and snapping the coil behind your navel. You screwed your eyes shut, head tilted back in pleasure as Larissa fucked you with her tongue, helping you ride out your high.

She cleaned up your core, lapping up your juices and pressing loving kisses to your sex before coming up to pull you into a bruising kiss, her tongue licking into your mouth so you could taste yourself. Larissa swallowed the groan you let out at the salty taste on your tongue.

As she pressed herself into you, you could feel her own slick rubbing against your thigh. The thought of your girlfriend being wet for you spurred you on and you brought a tentative hand between her legs, running your fingers through her slick heat. Larissa nipped at your bottom lip in response, bucking her hips into your hand.

You pulled back from the kiss to bring your fingers to your mouth, watching Larissa’s pupils widen hungrily as you sucked each digit dry. “God, Riss, you taste amazing.” Larissa’s eyes rolled back in her head at the lust she found in your voice. She let out a whimper and began to rut against your thigh, her breathing hot and heavy.

“Love, can you…” she panted out, rolling her hips desperately. You were mesmerized at how lithely her body moved; how her sopping cunt felt grazing the bare skin of your leg, making obscene wet sounds; how quickly she was unraveling above you. “Touch me, please.”

You brought your hands to your girlfriend’s hips, pushing gently and signaling for you to swap positions. She helped to flip you over until she was on her back and you were flush against her.

You kissed your way down her body, stopping to worship her hardened nipples. You swirled your tongue around the bud and Larissa’s back arched off the bed. Peeking up to watch her reaction, you bit down, drawing something between a yelp and a moan from the blonde. “Do that again,” she murmured breathlessly and you complied, a fresh wave of arousal washing over you as she whimpered and writhed beneath you.

You brought a hand down between you, sliding your fingers up her slit and finding her engorged clit with ease, circling it with the pad of your thumb. You watched in awe as Larissa responded to your touch. She looked just like an angel; blonde curls spilling over the pillow, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, lips parted slightly as her breath came out in short puffs.

Teasing her entrance, you slipped a digit inside, noticing how Larissa’s breath hitched audibly in her chest. 

“Does this feel good?” you asked, face flushed.

“Yes, god, yes,” Larissa moaned, gripping at the sheets beneath her. “Can you… another?”

You complied, easing a second finger into your girlfriend and curling both digits lightly. 

“Right there, darling - you can go deeper.”

You began to thrust your fingers rhythmically, while stroking Larissa’s clit. She rolled her hips in time with your thrusts, her moans increasing in volume with each curl of your fingers, with each brush of your thumb. You pushed your fingers deeper, finding the soft, spongy spot inside her that made her whimper.

Larissa loosened her grip on the sheets to reach out for you, pulling you in for a frenzied kiss. You swallowed the moans and whimpers that spilled into your mouth as she rode your fingers, her arousal leaking out of her core and dripping down your hand.

In a moment of boldness, you added a third finger, stretching Larissa out. She mewled and bit down on your lip, hard enough to draw blood, as the thrusts of her hips became more and more erratic. 

You moaned as you felt her pussy clench around your fingers, drawing you farther into her cunt. 

“Darling,” she panted out. “I’m gonna come!” Her thighs began to tremble, closing around your hand as she shuddered against you, holding your shoulders in a death grip. You watched in awe as her jaw went slack, her eyelids fluttered, her chest heaved. 

You continued to pump languidly in and out of her as she rode out her orgasm, your thumb circling her bundle of nerves lazily to help her come down from her high.

Carefully, you pulled out of her, your eyes never leaving hers as she slowly opened them, a blissed out smile spreading across her face.

You held your fingers out for Larissa and she swirled her tongue around them, placing a sweet kiss to each digit then holding out her arms in an invitation for you to curl up against her, an invitation you gladly took.

You felt so safe and loved in Larissa’s arms, her bare, sweat-slicked skin pressing against yours, her palms rubbing soothing circles on your biceps. You peeked up at her, stricken suddenly, again, by her beauty - curls mussed, lips kiss-swollen, chest flushed, eyes heavy-lidded and gazing lovingly down at you.

“How did I do?” You stifled a yawn, and she giggled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and allowing her thumb to graze your jaw as she looked deep in your eyes.

“You’re a natural, my sweet girl,” she cooed, pressing her lips to yours - she still tasted faintly of cum and you stifled a groan, causing her to smirk. “You make me feel so good, so loved. Was it good for you?” There was a hint of concern in her eyes, that disappeared the second she saw your lips curl up into a smile.

“It was amazing, Rissa.” You felt your cheeks warm. “It felt really nice. And you’re so beautiful when you come.”

It was Larissa’s turn to blush.

You laid curled up in each other’s arms for a few moments longer, content to snuggle into each other’s body heat and allow your breathing to even out.

“I love you, darling,�� Larissa murmured, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

No amount of exhaustion in the world could stop the beaming smile that adorned your face in that moment. “I love you, too, Riss.”

x

thank you to both @afeatherformills and my lovely gf for beta-reading, once again, you guys deserve a freaking trophy for putting up with me hehe

[krastbannert]

"I thought we were..." // "Thought we were what?" for Toph/Azula

im fucking coming for you krast

I know you probably wanted this to be more Toph, but Azula took over. As she likes to do. But you know, writing Tophzula was fun. I've never actually considered it, but I enjoyed it, so who knows? Maybe I'll do it again some day.

Also I have no idea what I'm doing, it's been a while since I wrote ATLA and I don't know left from right anymore. Enjoy.

------

“Toph?”

She’s not sure what makes her ask, basking the afterglow, still tangled in the sheets of Toph’s bed, her callused fingers running through Azula’s hair.

(She’d cut it, recently - had it cut, actually.

Short, much shorter than she was used to, but far better than the haircut she’d given herself during the Comet, years ago.)

(Another way to change herself, separate herself from what she’d been.)

“Sparky,” Toph mumbles back into her shoulder. How Toph managed to be taller than her, be the big spoon, and still put her head between Azula’s shoulder blades was a mystery.

Her heart thuds, the unspoken question hanging in the hair, caught in her throat.

“What…what are we?” Azula finally asks, her voice cracking as she forces the words out. It stings, admitting a weakness, even after all this time, but she needs to ask.

(She can’t take just being a tool. Not again.

Or, at least, if she is, she wants to know this time. Has to know, she can prepare for when the user finally puts her down.)

There’s a long, silent moment before answers.” That’s kind of a weird question. What do you mean?”

Azula sighs, rolls over to face the other girl. She wraps one arm around Toph, tugs her in a little closer, tucking her head beneath the other girl’s chin.

“I…I don’t know. I thought we were…”

“Thought we were what?”

“I…” The question knocks her off balance. As rough around the edges as Toph can be, she knows how to get to Azula immediately. Maybe that’s what made Azula respect her so much, maybe that’s why she thought Toph was so intriguing, maybe that’s why Azula couldn’t take her eyes off of Toph, maybe…maybe…

Maybe that’s why she was starting to like Toph, more and more, and maybe that’s why she was so nervous to ask.

“I thought we were just blowing off steam,” Azula finally murmurs. Her heart pounds in her ears, waiting for Toph to say something, anything, to say she was just there for pleasure, to say…anything but what Azula wants.” I thought we were just friends with benefits.”

Toph’s eyes snap open, and she frowns, as if insulted. Shit, Azula thinks, I should not have said that.

But Toph doesn’t snap. Doesn’t yell. Doesn’t say a word. Instead, she just reaches up, brushes a strand of Azula’s hair behind her ear, and tips their foreheads close. Azula places a palm on Toph’s bare chest, feeling her heartbeat though her skin. Toph’s milky green eyes stare into hers, unseeing, and yet - just like always, Toph sees everything.

She’d always been able to.

(Toph’s heart is fast, thundering - almost nervous.

Just like hers.)

“Azula, why the hell would you think that?” Toph asks. Azula can hear the hurt in her voice, the way it quivers more than it should have; can see the way her eyes flare, the way she sucks her breath in.

Azula bites her lip as she shrugs, but her heart stings a little at the thought she’s hurt her best friend.” I…I just needed to know. To know if we were just…spending time. Or if we were more.” 

“What do you want to be?” Toph whispers after a moment, almost hopeful, scared.

“...I want you to be mine,” Azula murmurs, her lips ghosting over Toph’s.

“Then I’m yours,” Toph says.

And that’s it. It’s that simple. It had never occurred to her that it could be just that - another thing Toph had, apparently, taught her.

Azula presses her lips to Toph’s, and relaxes in her friend’s - girlfriend’s she supposes - arms.

And as she closes her eyes, tucking herself into Toph’s grip, she unclenches.

(She’s not a tool anymore.

And she never would be again.

Not to Toph - that she’s sure of.)

[yuzukult]

yours, but not yours 03 (m) || csc & reader

title: yours, but not yours 03 pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader/oc genre: angst, fluff, smut, fake dating!au, bad influence!seungcheol, nice guy syndrome!namjoon, mechanic!seungcheol wc: 7.4k summary: when a nice guy gets too overbearing, you’re stuck with the option of having a fake boyfriend. warnings: oral sex (f.receiving) a/n: omg sorry for the delay... i’ve been in a really bad writing slump LOL if there’s some errors... ignore them. the fact i even finish this deserves a pat on the back LMFAO also thx @/cheolbooluvr ig for beta reading

Seungcheol stumbles back, wiping the red that formulates on the side of his lips. “Did you just fucking punch me?”

If there’s anyone he hated the most, Namjoon just kicked them off the top of the list and claimed the throne as his own. The fire that sets ablaze underneath Seungcheol’s skin is evident—the milky skin of his is flushed tints of scarlet, deep as wine and grows warm like the scorching sun.

Namjoon smirks, head tilted back with his chin up high like this is his territory and Seungcheol is a trespasser. It makes Seungcheol feel like he’s in one of those movies on National Geographic—he’s acting as if he’s a lion and you’re the lioness, while Seungcheol is just some opponent who wants what Namjoon has. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment before letting out the most brazen chuckle. He thinks he’s won, that smug look on his face giving it away. “Do you need a playback? I’ll do it again.”

In complete disbelief, Seungcheol scoffs. It takes all within him not to bash Namjoon’s face in but with you standing there, he can’t bring himself to show this crude side of himself in front of you. You don’t deserve to see him tear Namjoon to shreds—you deserve so much better than a guy who gets into fights instead of handling it civilly. He wants to be that, the kind of person you want, but when Namjoon takes the silence as a ‘yes,’ he’s prepared for another swing with a fist by his side. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” you chime in sternly, ready to interject but Namjoon is already pulling his arm back and driving a punch into Seungcheol’s jaw with all his might, awaiting that pleasant sound of his bones cracking from the impact.

Only that it doesn’t.

Seungcheol has his arm extended, palm out and against Namjoon’s knuckles as he continues to dab the blood from the cut. It’s almost like it’s from a scene of a film, out on the schoolyard with rivals from different schools ready to rumble. “Chill the fuck out. You don’t gotta go home but you can’t stay here. I’m not gonna hit you, if that’s what you think is gonna happen because I don’t waste my energy on guys like you.”

The silence is deafening—Seungcheol could almost hear the ringing in his ears from it. Namjoon doesn’t aim very well, but the strength behind his fist is strong enough for Seungcheol to suspect a sore jaw tomorrow. They can’t pull their threatening stares from each other, flames burning in their eyes, with teeths clenched down in semblance to the balled hands at their sides. 

You’re quick to shatter the glass of quietude, caring nothing more than to end this. You see why cigarettes tempt Seungcheol—suddenly your lungs are craving that breath of relief. “Go home.”

“You heard her,” Namjoon sneers. “She said go home. Guess you weren’t being a good boyfriend, huh.”

“I meant you.”

The two men turn to look at you.

“Namjoon, go home,” you reiterate, never stuttering over your words. “You don’t get to come here, to my house and punch someone in the face because you’re unhappy with something. You don’t get to act like a child, throwing a tantrum because you didn’t get the trophy girl and quite frankly, I’m not one. You’ve never once given me a decision tonight, thinking that it was better to come in place for Yubin, and none of this was discussed with me. When did you get to dictate my life?”

Namjoon drops his arm from Seungcheol, attention pivoting to you. “We had fun tonight, babe. I’m just doing what’s best for you,” he says, his favorite, signature line never fails to spill when it comes to you. Namjoon has developed this image of you that’s incapable of determining who would be the right fit for you because you ‘don’t know what you deserve.’ But it feels like every guy you choose doesn’t fit his criteria. “I want you to be with a guy that gives you it all, who takes care of you, who loves you, and gives what you truly deserve.”

“And what? You think that Seungcheol can’t offer that to me?” Inhaling in a deep breath, your lids squeeze shut. He’s your best friend’s brother, and although the trope is a cliche that you love, you didn’t love it in this scenario or when it involves yourself. “Namjoon,” you begin again; when your eyes lock on his, he sees the solemnity saturated in them. “It’s great that you care, but you’re overbearing and stepping over boundaries. Go home.”

It doesn’t take Namjoon long to slam the door with a scowl, driving off with his exhaust puffing smoke in your face. 

Rubbing your eyes, you let out a heavy breath that you’ve been holding the entire time. You felt a mixture of embarrassment and anger—from Namjoon making a move on you when you clearly weren’t interested, to him punching Seungcheol in the face—it's hard to even give Namjoon any type of margin of error when his toxic behavior is so awfully constant. 

“How you feelin’, pretty?”

Even with his jaw fractured and a hand against his cheek, he still manages to compliment you through his cherry stained lips. “If you’re askin’ bout me, I ain’t feeling so hot.”

“I can see that,” you retort with the roll of your eyes, tugging on his jacket sleeve up the stairs of your home. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Seungcheol is a simple guy. 

He sees you, and immediately his mind goes blank. Seungcheol is like a smittened 12 year old when they see a pretty girl for the first time; his mouth goes dry, all possible words get suctioned off his tongue, and his lips part as if he has something to say but it never comes out. He’s never been really good at expressing his emotions; elaborating clearly how he felt for you was an obstacle he had trouble 

So when you point to the dining chair placed in your small kitchen, he obediently does as he’s asked while you scramble to find a first aid kit in your storage closet instead of contesting it. He’s better at actions and gestures than words, so if it meant being like a well-trained puppy for you to understand the lengths of his likeness for you, then so be it.

“So… you and Namjoon…”

“Should I just stop feeling guilty and cut him off?” you interrupt, sighing as you drop the plastic box onto the square table. He notices everything here is kept minimal—two seats at the table, a loveseat couch, only two pairs of slippers for guests, and that was it. There is no intention of more, almost like you purposely don’t want anyone else coming in. “If it’s gotten to the point that he’s punching my fake boyfriend, it’s beyond ridiculous. There’s no boundaries when it comes to him, and it’s unfair that I have to constantly watch everything I do or say just to make sure I don’t upset him.”

“Should just cut ‘em off,” he spits, rotating his jaw. “He’s done nuffin’ but upset you. Stop being concerned ‘bout how he’s feeling and worry ‘bout yourself.”

You roll your eyes, tearing the wrapping of the alcohol wipe as you settle in the chair in front of him. “He’s my best friend’s brother.”

“This isn’t some romantic comedy. Stop naming that stupid trope. Tell Namjoon to quit and put your foot down. You’ve got a boyfriend now, and he’s gotta respect that,” Seungcheol says sternly, puffing his chest as if he’s all riled up.

Letting out a laugh, you shake your head as you wipe off the blood that dries on his wound. With a wince, he grimaces as he leans back. “Stop moving,” you nag before grabbing the ointment in the box. Squeezing a dollop into your finger, you apply it on gingerly as he scrunches up his face in fear of the pain, but it never comes. 

Physically, at least.

“If I’m your girlfriend, then why haven’t I met your family yet?” you joke, but Seungcheol tenses up.

Family. The word alone causes his whole body to stiffen and his jaw to tighten. Before he could react, you’re already stumbling atop him as a loud crack is heard, and his first instinct is to pull you onto his lap.

“Oh, fuck—”

“Geez, baby, if you wanted to ride on my dick so bad, you should’ve just said so. No need to break your chair for it.”

Somehow, you find yourself seated on his thigh, arms wrapped around his shoulders, and nose nearly brushing his. You can feel his breath ghosting your lips, the stench of cigarettes permeated in the fabric of his clothes, but you prefer this over Namjoon’s cologne. He smells… heavenly. It’s  like you are intoxicated, unable to control your thoughts properly, heart pacing faster than the cars you see on race tracks.

“I…” you gulp. Is he going to kiss you? His lips are so plump, cherry red, and visibly sweet. Unfiltered thoughts spill through your head; you want to taste his honeyed lips on yours, his hands roaming all around you. But you can’t have that. Right? But he’s so fucking close, you swear he’s gonna lean in for a kiss. Eyes hooded, he’s in a daze of you, equally as drunk on your scent. Notes of white jasmine—whatever the fuck that is, but he remembered seeing it on a body shampoo bottle in the bathroom. You smell sweet, with hints of something fruity and floral. He wants to drown in you.

And he manages to slip out the words that nearly have you tumbling.

“Wanna kiss?” 

Did your heart just stop beating?

You’re vacuumed from any words—you and Seungcheol don’t work, but why do you want his lips slotted into yours? He doesn’t fit the requirements of what kind of guy you want, the kind of guy you see yourself with–the fact that your first encounter with him resulted being under the sheets with your body against his, there’s no way he’d ever be anything more.

So, why does he make you feel this churning inside the pit of your stomach?

He chuckles, pushing his hair back and away from his face. Leaning back against your chair, he watches as you quickly shuffle off of him and clear your throat as heat floods your cheeks. “I’m just kiddin’. Maybe you should get new chairs, love.”

You sigh; the chair on the floor has its wooden leg split. It should’ve been a sign about a month ago when the creaking first started… and when you continued to hear the crack of the wood with each time your ass made contact with it, but procrastination seemed like the better option in those moments. “I—” you puff your cheeks in annoyance. The damaged furniture is the least of your problems right now. Turning to Seungcheol, you place your hands on your hips. “We need to establish some boundaries.”

With a quirked brow, he scoffs. “Boundaries? You’re the kidder now.”

“I’m just saying,” you begin to pace, huffing. “We can’t—this can’t be more than it is. We’re just two people who had sex once—” Seungcheol clicks his tongue as he crosses his arms while narrowing his eyes on you. “—a couple times, but that’s it. You’re just gonna be my fake boyfriend in front of my friends so they can back off with Namjoon. Capeesh?”

“You know, the fact you gotta lie to your friends sorta means that they ain’t good ones.”

“Well, outside of Namjoon, I like them, alright?”

“I’m just sayin’,” he adds, raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll do what you want, baby, but you’re ova here tryna set boundaries with me when you should be doin’ that with your friends, too. But I like you, and you’re sexy when you’re serious, so I’ll bite. Gimme your conditions.”

Inhaling sharply, you walk over to the desk beside your bed to shuffle through the drawers for a sheet of paper and a marker. “Okay,” you begin, slamming the computer paper into the table. “This is our terms. Let’s start off with number one. No fucking.”

Seungcheol chuckles, watching as you scribble the words. “We already fucked, baby.”

“Well, anymore. No dilly-dallying. We’re strictly business, Seungcheol.”

“Alright,” he raises his arms in defeat. “Whatever you want, baby. What’s next?”

“No catching feelings—”

“—Can we decide on rules that we haven’t already broken?” He quirks a brow before leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees. “You know I like you. Very much. Not just in the way to get in your pants, but more. So maybe… pick rules that we haven’t already broken, yeah?”

You puff your cheeks. “Fine. We’re just faking in front of my friends, right? So, I need you to be on your best behavior around them—I want them to believe that we’re real so that they can finally just come to terms that there are other guys that aren’t Namjoon.”

“You know,” he begins, tapping his foot against the wooden floors. “I still want my part of the deal upheld.”

You blink. “I must’ve missed that. What was it?”

“This is a trial,” he reiterates from the time before. “This is you considering me outside of just an acquaintance. A potential boyfriend.”

There’s a moment of silence before you let out an awkward laugh. “Let’s uh… let’s get back to the boundaries… yeah? How about… no fucking, no catching feelings, no sleeping over—”

“—All broken, but go on.”

You shoot a glare at Seungcheol before continuing. “No family involved. No telling people that we aren’t together, and lastly, this is exclusive.”

This intrigues Seungcheol. “Oh, well that’s new. I didn’t think you were the possessive type. Thought you didn’t like me, love.”

“It’s to spare anyone’s feelings,” you state sternly, writing down the rules onto the piece of paper. “I don’t want someone coming up to me later down the line, asking why you led them on when you were with me the entire time.”

“You know,” he begins, crossing his arms against his chest. “I keep telling you the same shit like a scratched up record. I like you, and I want to be with you. There won’t be another girl, so that rule is easy for me. The rest—can’t say that they won’t, though.”

“Seungcheol.”

He grins. “I’m kidding. But you know I’ll try for you, baby.”

Why does Choi Seungcheol do that thing where he makes the insides of your stomach feel sick? Is it because he’s absolutely repulsive?

Or is it because he’s actually swooning you?

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

You’re left frozen from how close he is. Seungcheol gently brushes his nose against yours, eyes hooded but irises dark and swirling with lust. He manages to steal the breath from your lungs so effortlessly, the cause of you stuttering over your words, and suddenly unable to be crude and blunt because Seungcheol is intoxicating.

Swallowing, you stumble back a bit. Palms resting against the hood of the bright red Audi in your garage—well now his garage, you’re not even sure how you ended up like this. “Uh, to… to my house.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he counters, furrowing his brows. “You called me a fuckboy, mocked me, then when I act upon those ‘so-called’ talents, that sharp tongue of yours has nothing left to say?”

You clear your throat. “I’m just… Who cages someone after getting their ass roasted?”

He chuckles; it’s deep and hearty from his chest, head dropped down momentarily before his gaze meets back up with yours. “Wanna see how a fuckboy fucks?”

Mouth parted, now you’re really at a loss for words.

Leaning in, he pecks the side of your mouth with a wink before his hands grab the thickness of your thighs and tugs you lower on the hood of the car. With a yelp, you fall back onto your elbows as Seungcheol slides down in between your legs. 

You’re debating if you should be thankful you chose a skirt this morning or wishing you had on jeans instead so you’d at least have the self discipline to push him away.

But when he looks like that, he makes it hard to.

“Just tell me if you don’t want this,” he says reassuringly, fingers playing with the hem of your miniskirt. He likes this color on you—beige is so neutral on other girls, but when you strut in it, you bring light to it. “But if you do, and you’ve got your hand covering your mouth to hold in those pretty moans, I’m gonna have to ask you to let go.”

And with that, he disappears in between your legs.

Seungcheol pulls your hips even closer to his mouth, desperately wishing he could live in your pussy forever. You taste sweet; his favorite treat from now on, and when he hears those melodic moans slip between your swollen lips, it causes the hardness in his jeans to twitch.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters against your wet folds. “I could do this all day.”

From the last time you fucked, Seungcheol makes it clear: he hates when you pull on his hair. There’s nothing worse than someone tugging on your strands, especially when they have no sense of control and end up hurting your scalp. And despite the fact that he enmitizes it, there’s something about you and when your pretty hands are knotted in his ebony locks.

“Fuck,” he says, and at first, it sounded like it was from pleasure of eating you out.

But when he curses the second time, it sounds more like pain.

“Fuck!”

Your eyes flutter open.

“Fuck!”

Fuck indeed.

You were fucking daydreaming.

Seated on the couch in the corner of the garage, you get the best view of Seungcheol. He’s underneath the hood of your car, working on whatever it was that made that weird sputtering sound yesterday, and definitely not underneath your skirt. Just your car.

“Fuck!” he exclaims again. “Are you just gonna sit there and watch me? I knocked over the rod and your hood fell on my head.”

“Sorry!”

Immediately, you’re at his side, lifting the hood while propping it back up with the metal rod. When Seungcheol finally shuffles out, he stands there, puffing with his chest out. You could already imagine all the thoughts that were running through his head because how did you miss that entire incident? “What the fuck was that? I was calling you for like five minutes—you were totally zoned out.”

You roll your eyes. “It wasn’t five minutes.”

“It wasn’t, but it sure felt like it.” 

Valid. He was stuck so it probably felt like an eternity.

As he rubs his head with a grunt, you can’t help but get flustered at where your thoughts drove through. Did you really just whip up an entire scenario where Seungcheol was tongue deep between your folds on some stranger’s car? And why the fuck did it feel so realistic?

This thing between the two of you is supposed to end in a fake relationship. No strings attached—no sex, everything kept a secret, and the end goal was to showcase that yes, there are other guys out there that are better than Namjoon and can be a candidate. 

Then again, it was hard to hold off your raging hormones when Seungcheol is just fucking standing there in that tight black tee with the fabric of the sleeves snug around his bicep. He’s not even doing anything and yet somehow he’s got your panties wet. Are you exactly like those other bitches? The answer is yes. And you’re more than just embarrassed by it.

He nods his head. “The fuck you thinking about over there? Lost ya for a second,” he reached over to grab the stained rag to wipe off his calloused hands. “You thinkin’ about me bending you over a car?”

Yes.

You know he’s joking, but it’s 100% true. And you’d be stupid to ever admit to it.

“I—Honestly, I’m not going to waste my breath answering that.”

He chuckles, just as thick and honeyed as in your daydream, except he’s the reality of it. For some reason, with how the sunset hits into the garage, he looks… handsome like this. Hues of orange, red, and yellow makes him glow, causing your heart to stutter in its beats for a brief moment. His lashes are long, brushing against the highs of his cheekbones gingerly, pomegranate lips plump and look like they’d be pillowy if you got to press your own against it and you could imagine they tasted just as sweet as the fruit. The injuries he sustained from Namjoon are almost entirely healed, but it complimented him well. He sort of had that bad boy-esque look going for him; the bruised cheek, scar at the corner of his mouth, the leather jacket, and the motorcycle?

You’re a liar if you said that you didn’t want to hop on his dick one more time.

And for some reason, your heart wanted to jump his too.

“Well, you came all the way here to talk to me and not just hang. What did you need from me?”

Right. You came here to ask for another favor. Why are these thoughts plaguing your once-logical brain? You have a MBA for fucks sake but all it took was good dick to scourge sanity with horniness.

“So,” you begin, rolling your lips. It’s intimidating to request this from him, only because you know how much he has to go out of his comfort zone to do it. “The girls and I were talking…”

Seungcheol raises a brow at you drifting off mid-sentence as you lean against the car as coolly as possible—even though he stifles a laugh at the sight. “Stop beating around the bush.”

“They want a weekend getaway at a log cabin by the lake.”

Confused, he puts down the wrench he picks up moments ago with a clang. “With just… you… or? ‘Cause baby, I know I’m your boyfriend, but you don’t need my permission for that.”

With a groan, you throw your head back. “No, no, I’m indirectly asking you to tag along and… be my boyfriend.”

“For the weekend?”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“With… your friends and their boyfriends?”

Where was he going with this? “Uh, yeah.”

“Alright, cool. I’m down.”

Truthfully, you should’ve known something was up with how easy it was to convince Seungcheol to go. 

He’s got a spare helmet in the space behind him on the bike, patting the leather spot reserved for just you while showcasing that dumb cheeky grin on his face. “Hop on.”

“I’m not riding that.”

“Oh come on, you’ve ridden other dangerous things. Take my dick for example.”

You clench your fists by your side but they mean no threat to him. “I’m not riding your stupid motorcycle, Seungcheol. It’s dangerous! What’s wrong with my car?”

He actually has to cover his mouth because he laughed so hard in disbelief. “Baby, that shit is an actual death trap in comparison to my bike. Plus, I’ve always wanted to drive on the road that leads to the cabin. I heard it’s got the freshest air this place has to offer.”

“Again, I’m not riding your bike, Choi Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol is usually a typical fuckboy. Girls, just girls as a whole, is the easiest way to convince him to do something. These days, even when his friends promise the sluttiest girls at the bar, he doesn’t go. Instead, he finds himself in the garage underneath the apartment, in hopes you’d be bored and come down in your little tank top and cartoon fuzzy pj pants and sit to keep him company. He’s gone soft, he sadly admits, but at the same time he doesn’t mind it.

But Seungcheol is still deep down some type of fuckboy. 

And when you cross your arms over your chest, pushing up your tits in that bra he suddenly has marked on his list of things that make him happy, he gets a sneak peak of your cleavage in that tshirt. 

He’s technically not a fuckboy anymore because he only sees you.

But getting rid of that side of himself that caves into the sight of tits would be hard. Especially when they’re yours.

He’s already packing up the helmets and parking his bike in the garage while snatching the keys to your shitty Toyota off the hook on the wall.

Candidly speaking, he isn’t entirely sure what to make out of this. He knows that whatever it is between the two of you at the moment is just a facade, despite that fact you know the feelings he harbors, but a part of him is perplexed at how easy it is for him to just… give you what you want. Seungcheol doesn’t do that. He’s not the type of guy who gives in without much of a battle. 

Everything with you is a new experience for him.

Even driving in a Toyota, for fucks sake, because he’d be caught dead driving in a piece of junk if his parents found out. Or even staying in some cabin on a weekend “getaway” by a lake, which by the way, he’s not even sure what a trip like that entails either. Do people swim in lakes? And if they do, why would they willingly want to bathe in dirty water?

However, the sight of you, so bright and eager when you spot your friends at the door of the cabin (which is oddly way bigger than he imagined), makes all the discomfort go away. It didn’t matter that mosquitoes were going to bite him fourteen times, that he was never going to get the smell of firewood out of his clothes for the next three months, and that if he agreed to swim in that swampy ass water, he’d probably get sucked in by some monster created from all the shit people dumped into the lake. All because his attendance makes you happy, he doesn’t mind it.

That is, until he spots the expression on your face drop and the culprit standing beside Yubin on the second floor balcony.

Seungcheol nudges your side gently. “Did they tell you he was coming?”

The stoic look gives the answer away before you say it. “No, they didn’t.”

Seungcheol slings the bags over his shoulder, trailing behind you and up the creaky wooden steps while praying he doesn’t fall into the abyss if any of the flooring breaks. He doesn’t complain, you note, but you’ll compliment him on it another time.

Namjoon is here, and he shouldn’t be.

“Okay,” Yubin calls out in the middle of the hallway that you’ve stomped your way to. She has her hand out like it would be some type of Captain America shield but it doesn’t do shit. “I know you’re mad, and you don’t want him here—but he made a hefty deposit for this weekend and we can’t just… uninvite him.”

“You could and I would’ve more than gladly covered it.”

“It’s not about that,” she sighs, running her fingers through her hair. “You know I can’t choose between my best friend and my brother. Can’t you at least be civil about it?”

You scoff, brows furrowing while shaking your head. “Did he even tell you that he punched Seungcheol?”

She licks her lips before sinking her teeth into the flesh. “I—No, he didn’t, but I’m sure he had a good reason.”

“Yubin, you realize what you’re saying, right? He swung at my boyfriend.”

“I know, and I—”

You don’t even let her finish. Turning around, Seungcheol stands there with your bags on his shoulder and his own duffle in hand. Abruptly, you grab onto his wrist and lead him down the stairs as Yubin follows behind. “We’re leaving, Cheol, go start the car.”

“But we just got here—”

“Now,” you demand sternly, and Seungcheol straightens his mouth. He wants to tell you to just enjoy the weekend without interacting with Namjoon, especially with how many people are here, but he respects your decision. It’s Namjoon you were trying to avoid, and the only place Seungcheol won’t try to inject his opinions on. “Get ready.”

Before he could step out, Chaeryong blocks him in. “No,” she looks at him then at you. “No,” she emphasizes a second time as she points her finger in your direction. “We’re not doing this. You’re staying. Don’t make Seungcheol drive the two hours back just because of Namjoon.”

“I don’t wanna fucking talk—”

“Then don’t!” she exclaims; it’s almost like she’s finally releasing the frustrations she’s been holding back. “Fuck that, you have your boyfriend right here, so just have a nice weekend with us and him. Sure, Namjoon will be around, but why’s that matter when Seungcheol is here?”

Although Chaeryong makes a good point, you can’t help but feel the blood in your veins boiling when you see him. He swung a fist at Seungcheol, the only person (despite his potty mouth) who actually seemed to listen and respect both you and your feelings all because Namjoon claims that he knew what was “best” for you?

You close your eyes. Inhaling in a deep breath, you release it slowly before easing your lids open to look at Chaeryong. “Yubin let him come, despite knowing how I feel about him.”

“Well,” Chaeryong begins with a forced smile. “That’s a fucked up best friend. Please stay. It’s my last trip as a single woman.”

You quirk a brow. “You’re engaged, Chae.”

“I know,” she jokes, nudging you. “But I don’t know what life will be like after I get married. People change, things change. And I want at least one perfect weekend with the people I’m closest with.”

It wasn’t just her words that sway you, but the look in her eyes. How those chocolate irises are filled with pleas, the fronts of her brows curling up as she says that key word one last time. “Please?”

It’s gonna be a fucking long two days. 

Yubin can feel the tension; she knows you’re upset, but what grinds your gears is that she can’t even be bothered to try resolving any of this. She doesn’t seem to understand how you feel, and how her actions only caused a strain in your friendship.

Was she even your best friend?

And what’s worse is that you were so angry, you almost missed all the things Seungcheol was doing that was definitely not something he’s used to.

For one, he mans the grill. He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, exposing his flexed forearms with his veins popping, you almost lose your train of thought because of him. Truthfully, you’re not even sure if he knows how to cook anything other than a bowl of ramen, and you’re confident he only learned that just to get into a girl’s pants. 

Eventually, you realize he’s not that good at it when he drops a perfectly good piece of steak on the ground.

“We should just toss it,” he says, and four of your friends, including yourself, stare at him in astonishment. “What?”

“It’s a $30 piece of steak. We’re just gonna wash it and eat it—how do you just throw away $30 worth of steak?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “It’s… it’s not that much.”

You don’t know Seungcheol that well, but you know parts about him that you’re unsure are worthwhile. For one, he seems to not be able to understand the value of money. He doesn’t talk about his upbringing, but questions begin to flood in your mind on what his childhood was like because how do you think $30 is cheap? Yeah, you knew he had a crush on you and he likes the way you make ramen for him (boil the noodle first, drain the starchy water, add new boiled water with the powder packets in the bag, crack an egg, and add kimchi with two pieces of seaweed), but in actuality, you didn’t know the real Seungcheol. And you sort of want to.

Then again, he isn’t your boyfriend. He’s just someone pretending to be. 

But the urge to get to know him is beginning to be hard to swallow. Yet your consciousness remains reliable each time it hits you like a train to bring up one thing you seem to forget when he looks at you in that way: Seungcheol is and always will be a fuckboy. 

Maybe staying wasn’t a bad decision after all. When you lean against the railing of the terrace, the breeze flows through your hair coolly and soothes your burning skin temporarily from the summer’s wrath. The sun begins to set in the horizon, the lovely warm shades cast over the cabin’s property—it’s sweet, sort of reminds you of pouring honey in a cup of chrysanthemum tea, the petals infused with the water that boiled in the kettle over a soft fire. 

Chaeryong and her fiancé are exactly that.

You spot them a couple miles away, seated on a picnic blanket with Chaeryong’s head on his shoulder as he presses a kiss gingerly on the top of it. 

God, when will it be your turn?

You sigh. Chin resting against the palm of your hand, your shoulder drops. Watching them from a distance is just a reminder that you’re single and have been for quite some time. Tinder has been dry—not because your dms don’t get flooded but because you’re exhausted from seeing all those pictures of guys with their shirt in between their teeth while taking a mirror selfie with their abs out on display. Blind dates aren’t fun either. They’re blind for a reason—there’s so many fucking red flags, of course traits are going to be hidden from you. The last time you went on one, the guy claimed to be a surgeon. Turns out, he just loved taxidermy. Just because you know the workings of a knife doesn’t make you a surgeon, Will.

Bars are just for fucking—don’t forget clubs too. Friends of friends just doesn’t sit right—what happens if you break up with them? Wouldn’t that be awkward for the group to hang out again? Not to mention that it feels like the majority of the male population seems to not have a bone in their body with the etiquette and politeness that gentlemen used to have. (Not that you’re looking for an old fashioned man—you just want someone nice and caring).

You’ll continue to find it hard to believe, but speaking of the Devil, Seungcheol approaches from behind and leans up against the railing beside you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you respond, not even realizing how down you sound. “What’s up?”

He furrows his brows, now concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Seungcheol hisses in annoyance. He reads you like an open book.

“I just—” you grumble midway, rubbing your face with your hand. “Am I ever going to find love, Cheol? Like I’m tired. Worn out. Fatigued. Weary. Drained. Exasperated. Bitter. Indignant—”

“Alright, thesaurus.com. I get it, you’re tired of feeling like you’ll never be loved. But what about me?”

You roll your eyes. “What about you?”

He clicks his tongue. In a moment like this, he yearns for the stick in between his fingers, the head of the cigarette in the corner of his pomegranate pink lips as he drags in a puff to relieve that annoyance you bring to him each time you reject his feelings. He misses the sensation that occurs when he releases the smoke, almost like his filtering the negativity within him while blackening his lungs. It’s a give and take relationship. More than he’ll ever have with you, it seems.

“Baby, how many times do I have to tell you that I like you,” he says irritably, different from the times he’s said it before. “It’s getting exhausting. Tiring. Draining. Fatiguing—”

“Okay, okay,” you wave your hand dismissively at him. “I get it, I’m being a little dramatic.”

“I don’t think you’re being dramatic. But I do think you’re being unreasonable when you think I’m lying when I tell you my feelings.” Oh, how badly he wants a cigarette right now. It’s like talking to the wall when it comes to you.

“Come on, Cheol,” you laugh, turning around to rest your back against the hard metal fence. “You don’t really like me. You like the idea of it—someone who rejects you because they want something more. You don’t get that often and it’s alluring to you.”

His mouth falls agape like a reflex; the apathetic attitude you had toward him when it came to his emotions plagues pain in his chest. It spreads like rapid fire—fist clenching and jaw tensing, it’s almost similar to the rage that heats up inside from when Namjoon’s knuckles aim for his jaw.

But that’s what it was. Just similar.

The fury in him blossoms instead of explodes. With you, he doesn’t feel the urge to be pissed but disappointed felt like a more appropriate term. 

Seungcheol scoffs, shaking his head. “I—You know what, I’m done talking to you for tonight. I’m so tired, you know, just trying to tell you straight up that I like you. I don’t know what shit I gotta spit out to make you see that.”

You puff your cheeks. He’s frustrated, you get that, but how do you trust someone who struts around with the label ‘fuckboy’ plastered across his forehead? “You don’t love me, Seungcheol. I think you like the idea—”

“Please, please,” he says in a pleading tone. “Cut that shit out. Tell me, do you wanna hear me tell you that I ‘love’ you before we even get together? That doesn’t go with your ‘love plan,’ does it?”

Heart tightening at his words, guilt suddenly washes over your face. “Cheol—”

“I get that falling in love with me is unconventional—we fucked without even a date, and I’m your fake boyfriend before being your real one. We’re backwards—that’s fine, and I know I’m not necessarily the boy-next-door type of guy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have potential either,” he huffs, pushing his hair back and away from his forehead before shutting his eyes. “Look, I’m gonna walk away now. You take what I say as you will, but I’m wishing, I’m hoping you’d believe me and listen to me just for once. I don’t feel like talking to you right now, so if you will, I’m gonna just—I don’t fucking know—I’ll go talk to the guys. See you back at the room, yeah?”

Fuck. You know you fucked up.

The fact that Seungcheol chooses to go talk to the men that don’t have anything in common with him (including Namjoon) over standing here with you meant more than it seems. He hates those types of guys—the ones that stand there with polo shirts, patterned shorts and gelled slick back hair with a beer in hand talking about work. They didn’t have hobbies outside of golfing and drinking IPAs, and most of the time, blamed their girlfriends for the instability of their relationships (also you will always side with your girls), never taking into account any of their faults. 

Seungcheol wasn’t like those guys—and as funny as it sounds, he wasn’t like the other guys.

Did he really like you? Truly like you and not that kind of stuff where you’d go through all the hurdles to get together only for him to get bored. Did he prefer the thrills of chasing or was he into doing mundane things with you like cleaning around the house or hanging up wet laundry? What about the whole thing with Namjoon? Does he need constant competition in order to value you?

What goes on in Choi Seungcheol’s mind?

You can’t really tell, but if you were realistic with yourself, you’d just ask him straightforwardly and he would do his best to answer. Instead, you choose this route instead—watch him from the porch as he tries to adjust himself in a group of people who weren’t like him and probably asked him questions like: “What stocks have you invested in?” “Does your girl like to ride you frontwards or backwards?” “Did you watch the game last Sunday?” and even the classic, “Have you done anal? With any girl?”

Discomfort is evident each time his face twitches; you could only imagine the topic of conversation at hand, and the subtle glances he makes in your direction only fuels the uneasiness that settles in your stomach. He’d rather be stuck in that than to stand here and listen to you turn down what he confesses every time, claiming he’s lying and nothing more or less. 

Then that’s when you spot Namjoon tug Seungcheol to the side.

Namjoon seems calm, despite the furrow in Seungcheol’s brow that makes it wrinkle in the spot between in a way you found so cute, but the volume of the words that come out their mouths remain low. You can’t hear anything they say nor decipher the motions of their lips, only their gestures toward each other. Quite frankly, it was the opposite of their previous exchanges. Cool, still slightly agitated, but remaining chill enough that a fight wouldn’t break out.

Even after a refreshing shower, underneath the covers with your back resting against the frame of the bed, that feeling in your gut doesn’t go away.

He hasn’t been back to the room yet. Ever since he came back for a bit to grab a couple of his belongings for a shower, you grow concerned and wonder if he’s going to stay here with you. Was he that mad? Did Namjoon say something? Was it worth bringing up the conversation again? Did he decide to sleep in the living room instead of in this room with you?

Maybe you should go check in on him.

Yeah. Sure, you might not know where you actually stand and if he’s still upset, but you should still check on him. He’s still your fake boyfriend after all.

Right?

Right.

You should, because what kind of fake girlfriend would you be if you just let your fake boyfriend sleep on the couch… right? Just fake. Not real—fake. Right. Fake. 

Maybe you wished it wasn’t fake.

Just as you’re about to toss the blanket off your leg, the door swings open.

You swallow.

He stands there, shirtless, with a towel slung over his shoulders as he ruffles it against his hair to get it dry. Why is he shirtless? Just… walking around the house with no shirt on, grey sweatpants hung low enough you could steal a glimpse of his hip bones. Fuck. Fuck! 

He sniffles and why your eyes trail down to his abs flexing instead isn’t something you could explain, then when he turns around to lock the knob, it’s almost like a turn on because your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought of something more based off the action.

But no. No. No. You asked for nothing more and you get nothing more.

“Hi,” you speak up, voice hoarse for some reason before clearing your throat and reiterating the greeting once more. “H-Hey.”

Why are you stuttering?

He only looks at you for a brief second before grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it onto the floor with a spare blanket. “Hey, baby.”

Baby. He used that pet name on you again. There’s a sense of relief that fans you, and suddenly you feel like everything is okay again, in spite of the fact that he’s shuffling to lay on the floor beside the bed after he switches off the lights.

“Are you still mad?”

“No, love.”

But his back is turned to you. 

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not, love. I’m just tired—the guys drained me out. Can’t be talking about stocks, work, and beers all the time. I don’t necessarily got a corporate job to be talking about.”

You’re silent.

He doesn’t say much, and his even breathing isn’t elongated enough to be asleep. 

What do you do? You can’t sleep like this. The regret in what you said earlier is gnawing at your insides, and you desperately have this urge to resolve this whole situation or else you’d be staring at the ceiling in the dark.

You gulp. Pushing down all the anxiousness that formulate in your throat, you inhale a deep breath. “Seungcheol?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you come sleep with me?”

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[likeastarstar]

The Hook Up - Yoongi

(A/N: Happy Birthday Yoongi!!!!! I don't have anything to say besides Yoongi is perfect and I love him! I love him! I also love him!)

WARNING! Smut ahead- rough sex, promiscuity, penetrative sex, oral sex, ass slapping...sorry if I missed anything!

masterlist.

You had only met him a couple times.

The first time, the room was dark and you didn't realize who he was. You just liked his hair and his eyes and the way he watched you when you moved. He didn't dance- mostly just stuck to himself but he didn't take his eyes off of you from across the room and you weren't surprised when he passed you on his way out, coming to a stop in front of you.

He shoved a hand in his pocket and held the other out to you, a tiny piece of paper folded between his fingers. He had a slight smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes and tilted his head when you smiled back at him, taking the piece of paper wordlessly. He walked away without so much as a hello or goodbye or even offering his name.

Your friends said you probably shouldn't contact the number written in neat script on the paper but then again if you hadn't, you wouldn't have been here.

You didn't really even know how it happened but you called him and he picked up and you wound up under him an hour later. The same thing happened a week later and now here you were- perched on a bed you were beginning to feel very comfortable in.

Yoongi approached you slowly, eyes sliding down your body and back up again to your eyes. His gaze didn't soften any- he didn't smile very freely but he was never cold. You never felt affronted by his monotone voice or dry humor, instead you felt drawn towards it. He was just so himself, a quality you had begun to look for in everyone you had met since the first time Yoongi came into your life but no one else was like him- no one else felt quite like this.

Something about him felt so real, so honest- addicting. You thought whatever kept happening between the two of you was a one off- a one night stand you'd forget about once you fucked him out of your system, but every time you spoke to him or touched him or even just saw a picture of him on the internet, it was like your craving for him only got stronger.

"I like your eyes," He mumbled, looking down at you on the bed. His long fingers undid the buckle of his belt, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Your mouth watered instantly and you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes coyly, "Have I told you that before?"

"No," You said softly, smiling up at him. You crawled towards him, sitting back on your heels folded neatly underneath you, face hovering near where his hands pushed his pants lower on his hips. He got to work fast, shedding his torso of his shirt.

"I didn't expect you to want to see each other tonight," You admitted, trailing your fingers across your stomach. You had shed your clothes a long time ago- abandoning all sense of shyness in front of Yoongi.

"I know it was last minute- was that okay for me to do?" He asked, eyes taking in your curves, "We never established rules or anything."

"It's fine, I'm always happy to see you," You assured, wishing he was touching you already.

It's like he read your mind, stepping closer to you with a teasing smile on his face and a hand smoothing down his torso.

You hummed in appreciation, biting down on your lip as you took in the milky tone of his chest, solid muscle pulling his skin taunt. His shoulders were broad and built up, strong arms you knew from previous experience could hold you up in impossible positions for hours at a time. You frowned, noting that the marks you left on him the last time had already faded- you'd have to do a better job this time.

"Having fun staring?" He teased, reaching out a hand towards you to take. You placed your palm over his and he pulled you up so that you were standing on your knees in front of him, face only centimeters away from you. You blinked at him silently, fingers tracing the thick cuban chain tightly wound around his neck. He didn't normally wear this much jewelry when it was just you two but today was a special day.

You had to google him to find out but it was indeed Min Yoongi's birthday. You weren't even going to wish him happy birthday, unsure of whether the two of you were on that level yet when your phone lit up and there was his name flashing up at you like a beacon. Thirty minutes later here you are, spending the night with the birthday boy.

You liked the jewelry he wore, liked seeing him adorned and expensive looking. His hand came up to smooth your hair behind your ear, moving slowly and deliberately as he braced your head, thumb pressing into your jaw as the rest of his fingers wrapped around your neck.

"I wanna do bad things with you," He mumbled, "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," You nodded, pushing your lips onto his. He didn't kiss you like this was just a hookup- the way his tongue pushed against yours felt like he owned every part of you. He didn't mention his birthday so you didn't either, focusing instead on the way he kisses you slowly- dirty, like he meant it when he said he wanted to do bad things to you.

You were still working on memorizing the way his body felt, how it looked, what he liked. You made mental notes of what made him melt and simmer. Kissing him was getting easier- you matched his movements well.

Yoongi twitches when you lick into his mouth, behind his teeth and at the back of his mouth. You press yourself impossibly close to him and you can feel the heat radiating off of his body onto your nude form, the pressure of his cock and the way he groans into your mouth softly when you hook an arm around his shoulders to shove him onto you.

"I thought about you all day long- about the things I wanted to do to you," Yoongi breathed against your skin, inhaling the scent of your perfume. He looked dazed, voice soft and mellow. You searched his eyes for some sign that he was lying and found none, dragging your teeth against his lower lip instead and liking the noise it drew out of him.

Yoongi's always so calm and collected it felt like a prize when you drew out these noises from him, the ones where you could tell he was disarmed and completely open to you. "Do bad things with me- to me," You mumbled against his lips, "I want it."

"You'll use the safe word if you wanna ease up?" He asked, a sudden softness in his eyes meeting yours- concern and care splayed on his face.

You nodded, smiling at him, "And pinch you if I can't use my words."

"Good girl," Yoongi grunted as he pulled away from you and pushed down on your shoulder.

You sat back down on your heels and were confronted by the tent in his boxers. He gripped your hand by the wrist and guided it to the waistband, hips twitching when your palm flattened against his erection. You hummed and felt a tingling feeling spread through your body, concentrating in your chest. Being with Yoongi was like this- an overwhelming feeling that bordered on anxiety and lust and total infatuation.

Was all sex meant to feel like this? Why was he the only one who made you feel this way?

You rubbed him over his boxers as your other hand gripped his thigh, nails digging into the meaty muscles there. He made an annoyed noise and you grinned, cutting to the chase because you knew what he wanted- knew what he liked at this point. You pushed his boxers off of his hips and inhaled sharply, liking having the control in your hands for once.

Yoongi's dick was pretty fucking perfect- gorgeous like the rest of him and thick. You greeted it like a friend and missed it when you were lying at night alone in your bed- closing your eyes to imagine the pulsing veins rubbing against you and the pretty pink mushroom head that felt so good against your tongue.

You wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped slowly, only realizing that Yoongi was shaking when his trembling hand ran through your hair. He moaned, watching your small hand work him to full mast slowly until precum collected at his tip. You leaned forwards, licking the bead of moisture off and kept your eyes on his, looking up at him with a wide gaze because he likes your eyes and he deserves to get what he likes.

"Don't play," He warned, looking down the slope of his delicate nose towards you.

"You don't want to play with me?" You teased, pouting up at him. He quirked an eyebrow at you and you zipped your lips- recognizing the look on his face.

You kissed the head of his cock before sinking down on it completely, hands playing with his balls and the length that couldn't fit in your mouth. Your lips stretched around the veins of his girth and he stared down at you, hands cupping either side of your jaw. You moan around his cock and pulled back until just the tip remained between yours lips, tongue swirling around lazily.

Yoongi was out of breath, chest heaving as he carded his fingers through your hair, "I'm gonna fuck your mouth if that's okay with you." He said softly, a smile breaking out on his face when you giggled at him, unable to ignore the irony of him asking to do something filthy to you in the sweetest tone.

You felt your heart melt when he smiled- the mysterious shell he maintained shattering when he beamed down at you. You were beginning to really love his smile- getting addicted to trying to see it again. You felt like you were walking a fine line along a cliff, inching closer to the edge every time Yoongi looked at you.

Yoongi pulled his hips back and paused, tightening his fist around your hair before rocking back into your mouth, slowly so that he could commit it to memory and play it back in his mind in slow motion.

He moved deliberately, salty taste of precum and the smooth velvet skin of the underside of his cock gliding on your tongue. His hips never paused, a pace set for the two of you enjoy in silence for a moment. You closed your eyes contently and smiled around his cock- there was something so rewarding about pleasuring him like this.

Your eyes watered as he hit your gag reflex and pushed past it, forcing your throat to spasm around his dick and take him. He kept his eyes on you, watching carefully for any sign of true discomfort and found none, breaking into a smile when you gazed up at him.

He continued his pace and groaned when he noticed your hand pleasuring yourself, rubbing at your clit with two fingers. He bit down on his lip, watching your eyes watered slightly as he quickened the pace, pelvis grinding against your hips. You focused on breathing, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

He thrust into the warm wetness of your mouth against and you hallowed out your cheeks, sucking on his cock like a popsicle.

"Fuck-" He mumbled, pulling out so quickly it made you cough. "Turn over."

You nodded, eyes wide with anticipation- you knew what was coming. He had done it to you before and you asked for it again in the heat of the moment but you weren't sure if he'd remember it. You got on all fours in front of him, head craning back so you could watch him, blush warming your cheeks when you noticed his intent focus on your pussy.

He smoothed a hand at your lower back and over the swell of your backside, spreading your knees gently and holding you open. You were dripping for him- arousal sticking to your inner thighs and you had no choice but to stay splayed open before him, completely exposed. He traced his middle finger through your folds and smiled when a shudder ran through your body, back arching deeply as you sunk to your forearms.

"You said you wanted to play?" He smirked, flickering his eyes up to you. You nodded and he kept his eyes on yours as his hand raised and came down on your skin, the sound making you gasp. "You like a practical stranger slapping your ass like this? You let anyone touch you like this?"

"No," You said loudly, pushing back against him.

"No?" He asked haughtily, "Just me?"

"Ye-yeah, just you," You stammered, barely to speak intelligibly.

He paused, petting the small of your back and you purred, glad you apparently answered the way he wanted you to. "Good girl," He cooed, "Just thing, If this is how you want me to treat you when you're good- how do you think it'll go when you're being bad?"

You moaned at the thought of Yoongi punishing you- almost wishing you could act especially bratty just to make it happen.

Your skin flushed and warmed where his hand spanked, clapping his hand down on either side of your ass before soothing the skin for a moment. He took turns between pumping his fingers in you and spaking you- drawing you closer to the edge. You lost count of how many times he spanked you, but it was enough to make your head spin, lust overwhelming your senses with every smack of his hand against your ass.

"God- you look so good," He hissed, kneading your ass in his grasp, "So sexy- pussy's soaked. Are you about to cum, pretty girl?"

You nodded, unable to use your words at the moment. He slapped your thighs, reddening the skin there too, "There's something dark about you getting off to me spanking you- you know that?"

He laughed darkly, rickety tone only turning you on more, "Guess there's something dark about me getting off to it too though."

He pressed his cock up against you, proving that this had as much of an effect on him as it did on you. You gasped, arching your back into him. Yoongi gripped his cock in his hand, dragging it twice through your folds and stopping when the tip of his dick caught on your wet and fluttering hole, sucking him in helplessly. He teased you, edging near your cunt before pulling away completely- sending you spiraling.

If you weren't careful, you'd cum like this but you tried to resist, wanting to feel his cock buried deep in you before. His fingers circled your clit and you felt your skin buzz as he delivered a blow directly on your pussy, a loud moan breaking your silence- "Yoongi, please-"

"Please what?" He asked, staring at you with a harsh gaze. "Are you done playing? Pretty baby's had enough teasing?"

"Yes- Want your cock," You whined, pushing your ass back up on him. You could feel his hard cock pressing between your folds as he thrust against you, keeping you begging for a moment before giving you what you asked for, sinking fully into you in a smooth motion.

"I'm being nice to you now because I'm in a good mood- next time I'll drag things out a little more," He warned.

"Whatever- yeah, I can handle it." You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as he began to fuck into you. You were just glad to hear there would be a next time.

"God- you feel so good," Yoongi moaned, "Feels like you were made for me- are you mine?"

"Y-Yes," You moaned, trying to meet his thrusts. He fucked you without any sense of sympathy, hand slapping the back of your thigh and leaving flushed red imprints like he was claiming you completely.

"Look up," He gritted, jutting his chin towards the mirror on his wall reflecting the two of you as you felt your walls fluttering around his cock. You looked gone- completely fucked out but then again so did Yoongi.

His eyes latched onto yours through the mirror, halfway shut in pleasure as he pounded into you from behind. Your eyes traveled from the way his muscles flexed and twisted as he pushed his hips up to meet the swell of your ass and slam into your pussy at a punishing pace.

"Fuck- there," You cried, "Fuck me like that, there."

Yoongi growled and his hand braced around the back of your neck, yanking you back towards him. His hand splayed on your stomach as the other pinned you against him, your back arching at a harsh angle as his hips slapped against you. He came suddenly and without warning, pushing you through you own orgasm with pressured circles around your clit.

He groaned when he felt your pussy clench around him. Your vision blurred and you heard yourself cry out his name in broken, desperate gasps. Your body felt like a live wire, your entire being lit up and sent into a spasm. You felt Yoongi's wet tongue glide across your skin, sucking bruises onto your neck. You relaxed against his body, feeling his hips slow to a gentle rocking as the two of you floated back to earth. It took you awhile to register but Yoongi was whispering in your ear, hands smoothing down your body with a gentle caress that he reserved for aftercare.

"Such a good girl for me" He mumbled, chest rumbling against your back, "Did so well- you're so perfect."

You panted, hooking an arm back around his hips and dragging him with you as you fell forward to lay on the soft sheets of Yoongi's bed. He pulled out of you slowly, ignoring the whine that left your lips. You felt empty without him before he pushed two fingers into you, thumb rubbing soothing circles through your folds, "Better?"

You hummed in satisfaction, rocking your hips against him. The slide of his fingers in you was easy, wet and warm with his cum being fucked back into you, "Don't stop."

"I won't- I know how you like to be taken care of," He assured, smiling at you sleepily, "We're getting to know each other well, aren't we?"

You nodded in agreement, kissing him chastly. He continued his perusal of your body, not stopping until another wave of arousal broke, crashing in a softer, hazier orgasm than the one before. You mewled softly and touched Yoongi's side as he nuzzled into your neck, pressing wet kisses to your skin. You whimpered when he pulled out again, taking in his thoroughly messed up appearance.

"Was that good- was that okay?" He asked, looking over at you.

You nodded, cuddling in closer towards him, "Perfect- you can go harder next time, be rougher."

He pursed his lips and blew out a long, drawn out sigh of a amazement, raising his eyebrows, "Where have you been hiding from me all my life?"

You laughed awkwardly, unsure of what exactly he meant.

His hair was everywhere and his eyes were sleepy, lips raw and red but a satisfied look on his face. You wondered if this was how he wanted to spend today- if he was happy here, with you. He rolled onto his back and caught his breath, chest heaving. You watched him in silence for a moment, admiring the perfection of his side profile.

"Hey, it's your birthday isn't it?"You mumbled, tracing your finger on his chest.

Yoongi tensed beneath you, neck lifting his head so that he could make eye contact with you, "You knew?"

"Yeah, you just didn't say anything so I-" You cut yourself off, shrugging, "Happy birthday."

Yoongi snorted, flopping his head back down. He watched the ceiling fan spin around endlessly, a comfortable lull falling over the pair of you, "Thanks. I usually don't really think much of my birthday. It's just another day, you know?"

"Did you get any fun gifts?" You asked, leaning down to kiss the space above his heart. He squeezed your side, holding you closer.

He hummed pensively, eyes searching around the room, "You- I got you. This is by far my favorite present."

You folded your arm over his chest and rested your chin on top, watching his face. You didn't know how to respond but you were sure he noticed the blush on your cheeks and the way your heart rate picked up, beating against his skin.

"Good, because I didn't get you anything else." You joked, trying to ease the ache in your heart with humor.

Yoongi rolled over and pushed his face against your neck, wrapping his arms around your body and squeezed you in a warm embrace, saying nothing more.

You didn't really know how you ended up here- but you were glad.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Peter’s Punishment

Summary: Peter whines about going on a double date with Scott and Jean. He teases you and in return you punish him

Warnings: mommy kink, orgasm denial, f receiving, m receiving, smut, 69 I guess, +18

“Come on babe do we have to go?” Peter whined, sitting on the edge of the bed as you walked around your shared room getting ready.

“Yes.” You sighed, tired of being asked that question for the twelfth time today.

“But whyyyy?” Peter flopped back onto the bed, kicking his legs out in a childish manner as he did so. You sat next to him on the bed, giggling as hugged you around the waist and pulled you back towards him. You fell onto the bed next to him, turning to face him. You reached up to tuck a stray hair behind his ear, making him smile as you ran your thumb over the apple of his cheek.

“Because Jean asked us to go on this double date with Scott and her.” You pressed a quick kiss to his nose before sitting back up. “And we already said yes.”

Peter lunged up with you burying his face into your neck so you couldn’t stand back up. “But I don’t wanna.” He began to kiss up the back of your neck. You melted under his touch, letting him move you onto of him to straddle his waist. “Why don’t we stay here?” He asked between kisses. “Just you and me. We’ll have more fun here than out there with them.”

You just hummed, letting him touch you as he pleased. His hands cupping the fat of your ass as he shimmed your dress up your thighs. Light touches tickling your skin as they brushed over your core. “Peter no.” You tsked, trying to push yourself off of him.

“Peter yes.” He mumbled, his grip on you getting tighter, unwilling to let you go. He looked up at you with big eyes, silently willing you to let him do as he pleased. You just shook your head and sat back on his lap, making him groan dramatically as you denied him what he wanted. “Come one (y/n).” He begged reluctantly letting you get back up.

“No Peter.” You were turning to leave when Peter’s voice called out to you yet again, except he used a different name.

“Please momma.” He whined. You turned around to see his hand ghosting over the bulge in his leather tight pants, wanting to touch but waiting for your permission. “Please I need you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest trying to ignore the slick forming between your thighs. “You’re playing a dangerous game baby.”

Peter just whined, letting his hands come down to cup the semi in his pants, lighting squeezing. You thighs clenched as he began to palm himself, nimble fingers pressing the zipper against his erection as he shimmed his pants down to his ankles. He kicked them off, laying back down on the bed, his hands pushing up his shirt to expose his milky skin to you. Purple marks still decorating his skin from the previous night.

He let his head lull to the side, maintaining eye contact as his hand dipped beneath the band of his boxers. Breath hitching as he took his cock in his hands, slowly pumping it. “Momma help me.” You cursed and strode over to the bed, roughly kissing Peter much to his delight. His free hand came up to tangle in your hair while his other hand remained in his boxers. He moaned, feeling your body press closer to his. You yanked his hand out, taking both his hands and pinning them above his head. Peter whimpered into the kiss and began to buck his hips up into you. You met his movements, grinding down as your tongue explored his mouth. He gladly let you do so, pressing a chaste kiss before you pulled back releasing his hands.

You turned in his grip, positing your aching core over his mouth, you slipped his boxers down his legs, letting his cock spring free. Peter shuddered as your hot breath fanned over his skin, your lips pressing a kiss to his hipbone before biting down to leave a mark. “Put that mouth to good work honey.” You shook your hips, lowering your core closer to him. Peter immediately grabbed your waist, moving your panties to the side as he began to explore your folds. You let a contented hum and finally took his member in your mouth

Peter moaned in delight, he loved having your mouth wrapped around his cock. It gave you complete control over his pleasure and he loved completely submitting to you. You sank yourself even lower, taking him even deeper. Peter flicked your clit before beginning to suck on it making you let out a low moan. The vibration of it making Peter’s breath hitch as it send a new wave of pleasure through his system.

You noticed his reaction and moaned again, watching as his legs shuddered and bucked up, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Peter increased his pace and you did the same, bobbing your head at a steady pace as Peter are you out, his tongue beginning to vibrate uncontrollably as he lost control of his mutation due to his rising pleasure. You pulled off him with a wet pop, throwing your head back as your thighs began to shake. “Fuck Peter.” You moaned, swirling your hips as you fucked his face. “Just like baby.” Your nails digging into his thighs and leaving red crescents in his skin.

You began to rapidly pump his cock, making him whine into your core. That last vibration sending you over the edge, your eyes rolled back into your head as you rode out your high. Peter helped tour his hands hiding your hips on his face until you lifted off of him with shaky legs. You could feel him twitching, Peter shuttered his breathing getting shallower. As soon as his hips rutted up into your hand you let his cock go, the tip a painful purple color.

Peter’s eyes shot open as he felt your weight leave his body. You stood up, pulling your dress back down and smoothing out your hair. Peter looked at you with wide eyes. “What?” You asked with a smirk.

“I- I didn’t finish.”

You cooed, moving over to affectionately pat his cheek. “Didn’t you know baby? Bad boys don’t get to come.”

“But I-“ Peter stuttered out. “I made you come momma.”

“I know but you deliberately acted out like a brat. And momma doesn’t like that.” You moved away from him to go sit at your vanity. Picking up a lipstick as you looked at Peter through the mirror, whinny as he picked up his pants to get dressed. “No baby you need to get dressed right.”

“But I was dressed for the date.”

You sighed standing up and began to rummage through your dresser. You pulled out a skimpy light blue thong, holding it out for Peter to change. Peter’s face was bright red as he took them from you, his fingers playing with the flimsy strings. “Oh honey you didn’t think you’d be punished?”

“But-“

“No buts honey. Now change.”

You watched as Peter dropped his boxers back onto the floor. He stepped into the light blue thong, the lace soft against his hips. He whined as it snapped snugly into his waist, his cock stuffing it to the brim. It was too small for him so his tip stuck out the top, leaking all over the front of it. You moved to stand behind him, running your hands along his shoulder blades. “You look so pretty like this baby.” You nipped at his ear. His face was bright red taking in his reflection in the mirror. He couldn’t deny that he loved when you let him wear your lingerie. Although this time it wasn’t and ideal situation. “I’ll have to have some fun with you when we get back.

You helped Peter back into his leather pants, deliberately teasing him as you did. You zipped him up, threading your fingers through the belt loops of his pants to pull him close. You kissed him, hand squeezing him once more before making your way out the door. Peter stood frozen, uncomfortably shifting in his pants, whining each time his cock strained against the fabric. You smiled, reaching a hand out for him to take. “Come on baby, we don’t wanna be late.”

Taglist: @joshdunstoothbrush75 @enemy-of-wonkru @kitwalkerangel @evanmybeloved @amourtentiaa @madison05x @rottenstyx @shlutnutt @raincoffeeandfandoms @ietss @cursedandromedablack @nightlockcornucopia @mossybank @usuck @tatesimper dm to be added to Taglist

[bokutoslittlebird]

Request: nii!bokuto fucking y/n dumb at a team reunion party and the whole team ends up joining.

Okay so I made it so the whole team is there but Akaashi and Konoha are the only ones who really get to do anything. The others are enjoying the show.

Warnings: incest, humping/grinding, voyeurism/exhibitionism, watersports/piss play, gangbang, squirting, fire play/lighter use, breeding, dirty talk, cum shots, human urinal, thigh riding, asphyxiation briefly creampie, swallowing urine

Kōtarō-nii + Gangbang [includes Bokuto, Akaashi, Konoha]

It’s just supposed to be a little get together was what you were told. Two hours later, each old teammate of Bokuto was still downstairs, chatting and laughing. Every time Bokuto laughed so joyously, it rubbed you the wrong way. It was like he forgot about you, sitting back and talking to his old teammates. You were supposed to be hidden out of sight, but your needs needed to be met and if that meant walking downstairs to remind your brother you were still waiting for him, that’s what you’d do.

You didn’t expect him and his friends to wave you over.

“[Y/N]! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! Visiting your nii-san, eh?” Komi asked, an eyebrow raised. ‘Visiting’ was one way to put it, but you were actually living with Bokuto, guest room still unused as your belongings were in his bedroom.

“Guess you could say that,” Bokuto threw out, then continued. “She’s going to college here, so it’s easier to live with me than pay for on-campus living,”

“Saving money, I see,” Akaashi piped up, taking a drink from his glass. It was just water, which meant they weren’t drinking alcohol. Bokuto had a soda, but everyone else looked like they were drinking tea or water.

“Hey, [Y/N],” Bokuto tapped you on the shoulder, making you turning your head towards him. “Can you get me another drink?”

“Of course, Kōtarō-nii,” taking his empty bottle, you go into the kitchen to see where he keeps the soda. Since he doesn’t want you to have any, they’re usually up high. Standing on your toes, you still can’t reach the sweet drinks. To speed up the time, you hop on the counter only to feel someone’s hands guiding you off.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Bokuto says, caging you to the counter. “I thought I told you to stay upstairs,”

“I was bored, nii-san,” you whine, pressing yourself against him. “You’re ignoring me,”

“I’m entertaining my guests. You need to learn how to be patient,” he whispers, one of his hands rubbing at the spot between your thighs. “You’re dripping. Have you been touching yourself?”

“It’s not the same, plea—”

“If you’re good, I’ll fill you up so many times you’ll be swollen with my seed, how about that?” You nod your head, still pressing yourself against him. “Stop pushing yourself on me or I’m gonna have to punish you,”

With a final warning, Bokuto gets his own drink and removes himself from you, sighing as he sees your pout. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he pats your head. “Just another hour, okay?”

That’s what he said.. an hour ago.

Sitting beside him was almost too much to bear. Knowing he could take you whenever he wanted to and him knowing you’re desperately waiting for him to touch you, it’s all too much. Even as your thoughts swim with the image of him absolutely ravishingly you in front of his friends, your pleading eyes and a pout his way whenever he glances at you, yet all he gives is his arm around your shoulders. As a good big brother should, but this is getting to be too much.

Sarukai is the one who decided to play a game. It was a silly card game you played as kids, but it was fun to pass time. Since you didn’t wanna play, you had to sacrifice your spot to Akaashi, your bottom instead being placed on Bokuto’s thigh. A warning squeeze on your hip was all you got, quickly telling them that you were cold which they all brushed off, going on with the game. He was like a heater, warmth rising from beneath his clothes, but it just made you more hot and bothered. It wasn’t until he started rubbing a hand on your thigh — inner thigh, included, his fingers brushing against your sensitive area — did you really feel impatient.

You hoped nobody would notice as your body started moving, and it seemed like they didn’t. Legs on either side of his thigh, you rubbing yourself against him, trying to get as much friction as you could. Bokuto doesn’t stop you, his hand instead rubbing soothing circles into your hip as you continue to grind against his thigh. Eventually, you end up humping his thigh as the rubbing effect wears off, only to have him lean down to your ear. “You can’t wait, can’t you? Such a needy slut needs to be punished, you know?”

There’s no other warning, you suddenly being pushed in the middle of the game as everyone shoots back in shock, surprised at Bokuto’s actions. “You’ve wanted this for a bit, haven’t you? That’s why you’re even wetter, isn’t it?” He smiles down at you, prying your shorts off. He then addresses the guests of his abode, “you guys get to see how much my beloved sister loves me,”

With your shorts and panties off, you’re staining the wooden table with your dripping juices as Bokuto gets his cock out. His friends seem into it, sitting back on the couches and chairs, eyes glued to the way Bokuto spreads your sopping cunt, clenching around nothing as you wait for him in anticipation. Licking his lips, he sinks into you, without letting you adjust as your legs tense and your toes curl, squeezing him as he pushes himself all the way in.

“Did you already cum?” He asks, seemingly dumbfounded by your sudden orgasm. You don’t answer, simply keeping your head against the table and having your eyes rolled into the back of your head. With no response, he decides to roughly thrust up into you, making you gasp as he pushes in so far, feeling so full as he snaps his hips to yours, your hands grasping at the edges of the table as you moan. Through your blurry vision, you’re able to see his old teammates with their own cocks out, hands around the thick appendages as their eyes are trained on how well you take in their former captain’s cock.

It’s only mere seconds before you’re mewling, back arching as you’re clamping around his cock again, body twisting with the force of your orgasm as you shake. Bokuto removes himself from your cunt, though, making you whine. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna let my friends have a turn with you, though. You seem eager Akaashi, wanna go first?”

“I’d much prefer her mouth than her pussy, Bokuto-san,” he says, moving around to your head. His cock comes into view, to which you eagerly open your mouth to take him in, tongue killing out to lick at the tip.

“I won’t pass up free pussy,” Konoha chuckles, taking Bokuto’s position and pushing into you. “Thought she’d be loose after taking a cock that big, but you’re tight as a virgin!” He laughs, pinching your clit as you squeeze down on him even more, muffled moans coming from your throat which is stuffed with Akaashi’s cock.

“Mhm! I taught her well, didn’t I?” Bokuto hums, guiding one of your hands to his cock. “Don’t forget about me, baby girl,” he says, low as he watches your hand jerk him off. Despite your eyes not being anywhere around his form, your hand works expertly from experience of handjobs. Akaashi seems pleased himself, fingers occasionally tracing your jaw and throat, only to close your nose as he face fucks you. Konoha seems to be enjoying himself, as well, your legs secured around his waist as he thrusts into you, his thumb rubbing at your bundle of nerves that has milky fluid coating his cock with each thrust.

“I’m close, can I do it inside?” He asks, looking at Bokuto, using his own hand to guide yours.

“No. You can cum in her ass, but not her cunt. That’s only for her nii-san, isn’t that right?” He directs the last bit at you, fingers pinching your nipples as your body jerks. Konoha decides to pull out, letting his semen paint your stomach white as he groans, making sure every drop lands on your skin. Akaashi is right behind him, closing your nose as he shoots his own load down your throat, your eyes glazed over as you drink it all.

Konoha takes it upon himself to push back into your cunt, feeling your walls clamp around him once more time. It’s too much and you feel something warm fill your insides, eyes widening as you think he put a load in you. When he pulls out, however, you feel it trickling out as the warm liquid drips from your cunt. “Seems she’ll only take cum, not piss,”

“She’ll take it, won’t you, pretty girl?” Bokuto coos, fingers keeping your mouth open as Akaashi takes his turn, warm liquid filling your mouth as you struggle to not let any spill. Once he’s done, Bokuto closes your mouth and nose to force it down, your eyes squeezed shut as it tastes bitter. “See? Just gotta know which hole to use. It’s okay, I’ll clean her out so you can use her again,” he hums once more, pushing his thick cock into your still leaking pussy. The force of his thrust has you mewling, drool spilling from your lips as your body jostles with each thrust. “There’s a cute little trick her cunt will do if you give her a bit of pain,” he grunts, fishing a lighter out of his pocket. Your eyes widen at the familiar click of the item, brief light before it’s shut off. He hands it to Konoha, who then flicks it on as he brings the fire close to your face, the light dancing ridiculously close to your cheek. Akaashi keeps you fron moving your head, sweat beginning to form as Konoha brings the lighter closer, the flame barely licking your skin as you scream, tongue lolling out as your squirt all over Bokuto’s abdomen, his groan overwhelmed by your cute noises. With another thrust, he’s spilling his own load into you, fill you up exactly how you wanted him to.

Konoha shuts off the lighter, then locks across the mark against your cheek where the flame touched you, pressing a sweet kiss in apology to the hot skin. “Now, what do we say, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you for filling me up nii-san. I’ll take anything you give to me, I promise,” you sweetly say, another moan as you feel Bokuto’s piss fill you up as well, his thumb rubbing your clit.

“Don’t worry, baby. Only I’ll be able to breed you, but my friends can have their fun, can’t they? I’ll promise to give you all my attention later, is that okay?” Your response is a nod of the head, the rest of his friends eager to have your holes and your hands around their cocks.

[1-800-roflmao]

Fandom: FNAF SB

Pairing/Characters: Sun x AFAB!Reader x Moon

"You like puppet shows?!"

Just a section of a fic that might not make it into the final product. This is partial smut. Dirty talk, teasing, dom/sub elements, voyeurism, exhibitionism, blindfolded and gagged, going off script, shared sensations.

Things to keep in mind: Reader is on their knees, front leaned against Sun, and Moon is behind them. Sun has been teasing them before this.

There is like 1000 words before this part in the document I'm typing in. Not editted.

“Seems someone has a case of stage fright,” Sun giggled. Their milky eyes raked down the length of your back and down to your shivering hips.

You’d kept still for them. You’d followed their rules.

“I know a fun, FUN way to ease those nerves,” they hummed, crooking their fingers and dragging their fingertips along the soaked cotton. The way you shuddered against them, arms tensing around their neck, only encouraged Sun.

“We agreed to hold off until after,” Moon growled, annoyed his twin was going off script.

Sun just laughed and shifted their grip so your pelvis tilted, back arching and giving Moon a delicious view of pale yellow and gold segmented fingers pressing against your still covered cunt. He stared as Sun’s fingers caught and dipped on your entrance, one pushing inside you shallowly and dragging the wet gusset with it.

And you… you whined, hips trembling as you struggled to stay still.

“Don’t you think they deserve a reward?” Sun’s voice dropped and they pulled their finger back, “They’ve been so good. So, so, SO GOOD! Our little superstar.” Their voice box warbled, fuzzy for a moment.

They could both see how the praise affected you. That cute little wiggle of your hips and the way you tucked your face more firmly against Sun.

Nimble fingers pushed the crotch of your underwear aside and if Moon had a throat, he would have gulped. Especially when his twin spread you open for him and fuck, you were gorgeous like this. He reminded himself not to grip your ankle any tighter and instead abused the ribbon in his other hand.

This wasn’t supposed to devolve to sex. It was just supposed to be an exploration of a shared interest. Sensual at best. Nothing more.

But he could feel the shift. He could feel the stir in the base of his spine and it raced along his circuits, straight to his crotch.

Sun sharing how soft you felt, how warm you were, and gods, how you were throbbing around their finger, across their wireless connection only made holding back harder. He could hear Sun muttering in his mind, cooing, and growling. You weren’t hearing half the filthy shit the sun-faced animatronic was thinking.

A series of garbled static was all that could leave moon-faced animatronic’s speakers.

If Sun could, Moon was sure his twin would be sporting the smuggest smile.

“You like to watch, right?” Sun teased, face spinning and rays dipping before cocking to the side. “How’s about a show then?!” they exclaimed.

Their free hand leaving your chest and instead gripping your hip. That hand was big enough they could dig their fingers into the fat of your ass. Everything was on display now as their grip dragged fabric further aside.

The fingers between your legs shifted, stroking along your folds and gathering slick before posing their middle finger over your entrance.

Moon felt some irritation at the very much on purpose flipping off but was silenced as that same finger slipped inside you finally. The relieved, drawn out moan muffled by soaked ribbons had them both focused on you as Sun kept feeding you inch after inch into your hungry cunt.

“Let’s give ol’ Moony a right good show, Honeybee~!”

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦.

𝘧𝘵. 𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪 (+𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 18+ 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵. 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 1.5𝘬

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘰𝘺𝘴/𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘤𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺/𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 18. 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘪 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴. 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺. 𝘮𝘸𝘢𝘩.

“man, fuck you, the horse you rode in on, and your weak ass dick! just leave me the fuck alone.” you spit, arms crossed as you shoot the man in front of you a glare hot like jet fuel.

𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶:

izuku midoriya is one of the sweetest people to grace the earth

there’s no doubt about it.

but know he is not afraid to put yo ass in a fucking headlock and pound his way into you, voice thick and raspy as he asks you just who the fuck you think you’re talking to.

he’s grown up quite a bit since high school

and refuses to get bitched by anyone, especially his own girlfriend.

a saccharine smile inches across peony pink lips, spreading over porcelain teeth

“you uh... you wanna repeat that, honey?”

you know you’ve made a mistake

he’s got that look in his eye, ravenous and wicked

“look...izuku, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to snap like that—“

“that’s not what i asked. i asked you...if you wanna repeat that.”

would definitely strap your ankles to a spreader bar, reveling in the way you continue to writhe against it

only to cry out in desperation once you realize that the more you struggle, the wider your legs go

or he’ll make you cry as you struggle to form a coherent apology, words choppy from the the remote controlled vibe is sending shockwaves through your heavily sensitive clit

he’d kneel above you, smile wide and innocent as he turns it up to the second most powerful setting, hard-on growing at the sight of your head lolling back while you try to appease him with sorry after sorry

“i-izuku—fuck, fuck! mmh— it’s too much....please, please, ‘m sorry! i didn’t mean it, ’m too sensitive—please just let me make it up to you baby—“

“all you gotta do is say the magic words sweetheart, and i’ll give you what you need.”

yeah, he’s one of those motherfuckers.

“remind me who’s pussy this is, and this’ll all be over with.”

“god, fine!! it’s yours okay! nobody else’s..now please, please fuck me izuku, i need you—“

doesn’t hold back for a second when he’s staking his claim all over your body, a calloused thumb roving over your clit gently, mindful of your sensitivity but edging you closer and closer to a fifth orgasm

happily smears strings of thick, sticky cum all over your stomach to mark you as his

and doesn’t hesitate to lick it off the supple, soft skin of your torso, the milky white substance congealing with transparent slippery saliva

he grasps your face firmly, fingers pushing your cheeks inwards and causing your spit slicked lips to jut out in a pretty little pout

“open.” he mutters before dripping the salty concoction onto your awaiting tongue, a throaty groan rumbling in his chest as he watches you happily swallow every last drop

“good girl.”

the aftercare is immaculate, izuku taking his time to wipe you clean so tenderly, lips pressing against each and every bruise, your body pliant as he whispers sweet reassurances into your sweat soaked skin

“much better now, right?”

you nod, eyes heavy as you sink into the warmth of his chest, hands clinging to him like he could disappear at any moment

“happy i could help you relieve some of that tension honey.”

“but talk to me like that again, and i promise you that’ll be the last time you call anything about me weak, especially how i fuck you. got it?”

prepare to be not only throughly sore the next day, but to have to conceal fingerprint shaped bruises on your hips and thighs

takes pictures of your fucked out face to have for future incidents where you decide you wanna talk like you have zero home training

and isn’t afraid to flash katsuki one or two whenever he gets to talking about how he could take you from him.

𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰:

“so that’s how you wanna act, hm? if you needed some dick you should’ve just fuckin’ said so instead of always runnin’ your damn mouth.”

he whirls you around, pelvis pressing into the small of your back, rivulets of sweat beading at the base of your neck from his close proximity

he’s such a glutton for putting little bitches like you in their place.

blade sharp canines dragging against the curve of your neck, pathetic attempts to maintain your resolve falling from unsteady lips

“the hell’s wrong with you—you already know i’m with izuku...i’m not doing this shit to him again—”

but you were already gone when his lips slotted against yours, body throbbing at the contact

now izuku was a good lover, a giver, a pleaser at heart

always putting your enjoyment above his

but eventually one grows tired of slick tongues and curved fingers, pretty whines and gentle kisses

you wanted “fuck you”s, spit flying along sick expletives hurled at your bowed, desperate figure, sweet sticky semen coating your throat after it was abused and stroked as though you were a piece of plastic.

and as luck may have it, katsuki was more than willing to provide.

yet today you’d had enough, his subtle touches when you passed one another had garnered izuku’s attention; you’d reassured the male that it was nothing to bother with, that the two of you were just coworkers.

at least when his balls aren’t in your slutty fucking mouth, thick bubbled spit dripping onto your home screen as you text izuku that you’ll be home late for “stir-friday” once again.

the best sex was on days like today, when you got just a little too reckless at the mouth

when you needed a not so gentle reminder of who’s leaving you breathless all hours of the night

takes his time with you, fingers teeming with a slight brine as they’re sloppily thrust into your mouth with a “shut the fuck up talking to me like you don’t know who the fuck i am.”

degradation? baby, you’ve met the man.

“wanna act like a bitch, that’s fine. just don’t complain when i leave you limping like one, got it?”

you’re shoved atop a desk, it’s contents forgotten as katsuki latches onto a tit and proceeds to leave mark after mark, striving to rid any trace of your lover

panties tugged to the side, fingerpads waltzing up the length of your—no, his pussy

kisses down your sternum and the plush skin of your stomach, flipping you opposite him before snaking his tongue between your southernmost lips, devouring you like a man starved

but doesn’t let you cum, not yet anyway

“katsuki—please, i need it, don’t fucking tease..”

hates when you whine because it chips at his hard exterior, he’d give anything to pull another cry from you

“beg for it then. you had so much to say earlier, eh? go ahead and put your mouth to better use, fuckin’ slut.”

spanks you while he eats it from the back cause he can

and don’t even get me started on his size kink

lives for making you feel small against his large stature and even larger ego

“damn, you’re tight...thought deku would’ve broken you in a bit more for me by now—”

his pace is angry and unforgiving like his mouth, leaving you no mercy when he finally takes his place between your thighs

“that’s it...take that shit. don’t run...come on, tell me who’s dick you go dumb for, say it—“

“yours! j-just yours, never ‘zuku. fuck! m’ so fucking close please, please—“

cant fill you up like he wants, but settles for painting your body with splotches of white, watching them mix with your now-purpling bruises

and when izuku calls your phone on the hour to ask when you’ll be home, that cocky fuck answers

“relax. your little girlfriend and i are at the office with some reports, she’s so damn uptight...been on my dick this entire time. “

“should probably loosen her up more, maybe she’d be less annoying.”

𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪:

he secretly loves it when you get like this

while dabi loves the rush of tossing around some brainless slut with a thing for fucking mass murderers

pussy was much better when it came with a little resistance, a little push back before he got what he wanted

“dabi come on..let her be. i’m sorry sweetness, this guy botherin’ you?”

his counterpart, keigo, was a top tier scumbag with grade-A looks, words mingling with a dulcet voice that could turn water into wine if he pleased

sienna wings bristled against his shoulder blades as he leaned down, an arm coming across your chest casually, bent over the back of the couch

“don’t call me that shit. actually, both of you are bothering me.” you grit, a hand swatting away tanned nimble fingers that were slowly making their way towards a breast

“see what i mean kei? she’s being a fucking brat. can’t stand bitches like her, always thinking they’re too good for guys like us.”

dabi takes a seat to your left, cyan eyes raking over the curve of your hips ravenously, staples gleaming in the bar’s gentle yellow glow

he was going to have so much fun breaking you in.

“ i think i know what her problem is....somebody just wants a little attention, right? hell, look at how she’s dressed...”

keigo’s eyes have taken on a darker energy, a hand winding around the width of your neck and squeezing lightly

“i don’t want anything from either of you assholes—wait, the hell are you trying to—ah!”

taking advantage of your pliant state, dabi’s hands begin to roam over exposed skin, a scarred set of hands slithering up your top

his abrasive fingers tweak your nipples roughly, rolling them between a forefinger and thumb with a lustful glare

“come on...don’t you want us to make you feel good? tell us you don’t want us to cream you like a fuckin’ twinkie, and we’ll leave your bitchy ass high and fucking dry, just like this.”

you hate them, the last thing you want is for either of these douchebags to be what gets you off

but god do keigo’s lips feel like heaven on earth when they’re against your pulse point like that, and dabi’s profuse experience shows in the way he manipulates your body to make you sigh in ecstasy, fingers slipping past drenched lace with ease to tease your sensitive clit...

“we—we shouldn’t do this out here, someone might see...s-shit, ah fuck—”

“so what? don’t want everyone to see how much you like getting double teamed?” keigo taunts, tongue darting out to soothe the harsh bruise he’d finished sucking into the skin beneath your ear

“nah, i think we’ll take you right here. besides, it’s just us and the boss man tonight. ‘should let him watch though, maybe he’d learn a thing or two about what a good fuck really looks like instead of that hentai shit.”

“so...you in or not? my hand’s starting to cramp.”

you nod, the motion serving at the catalyst for a number of debaucherous things that would soon happen to your body

marking is an absolute must

keigo’s practically feral once he knows you’re his to play with, love bites littering the expanse of your tits, neck, even the inside of your thighs

dabi marks you too, but he’s not nearly as nice as keigo, leaving handprints all over your ass, each one accompanied by a harsh yet tolerable burn

you can thank his quirk for that

they’re sloppy and they know it, dabi’s spit creating web-like strings connecting your pussy lips together, the metal barbell wedged between tongue muscle retreating from beneath your trembling thighs

meanwhile keigo’s reveling in the way your spit coats his dick in an effortless gloss, a hand keeping your head steady as he drives into your throat with reckless abandon

the saliva making its way down through the valley of your breasts while you struggle to breathe, eyes watering in both panic and pleasure as the two use you like a toy

they take turns, metal and heady sweat flood your tastebuds when dabi takes on keigo’s previous stance

dabi certainly makes sure you give his balls special attention. it doesnt enhance his pleasure, he just likes seeing you get so nasty for him.

not so high and mighty when you’re gargling the dick of one of japan’s most wanted, are you?

keigo’s dick reaches depths you didn’t think possible, tip prodding your innermost spots and making you sputter pathetically around dabi’s length, eyes burning as you try to control the heat in your lungs

“nah nah nah, don’t get all teary eyed now—thought it was “fuck us and our weak ass dick”? hm? well this weak ass dick’s makin’ you choke like a two dollar whore, and keigo’s about to pump that sloppy cunt full of cum...still think you’re better than us?”

you’re tossed between the two men like a ragdoll, until your body’s spent and you’re bred so good that you drip with their mix of fluids every time you shift a little

the men don’t hesitate to compliment your endurance, praising you for being “such a good little fucktoy”.

which in dabi’s words, is the closest you’ll ever get to a “sorry for bothering you”.

𝘢𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢:

let me tell you a thing or two about shota.

he has no time, or tolerance, for bullshit.

between his atrocious sleep schedule, nightly patrols, and his day job as a high school teacher, he doesn’t have the capacity for mind games

so when you’d snapped on him like that, he did what he felt like was the most logical thing

he left you alone. he wasn’t about to get into some childish argument all because he didn’t give you the reaction you’d wanted over a dress

aizawa’s not a reactive man by nature

so when you’d purchased the sultry number, seams tight and neckline waivering on indecent

he’d merely hummed at the article of clothing in approval, committing the sight to memory before going back to finish reviewing his lesson plans for next week

which to you, wasn’t good enough. you wanted him to exhibit some sort of lust, something that made you feel like you still had him in the palm of your hand

it wasn’t like the two of you weren’t having sex, no not at all. but you wanted to feel like he wasn’t just attracted to you, but craved, desired, was desperate for your touch every now and again

and when he’d given his...lackluster feedback, you exploded, the two of you briefly exchanging words before you’d said that. shota was in no mood to argue, so he excused himself from the room to continue his work

“sorry if i actually want to, you know, feel desired by my own boyfriend? god, it’s like you don’t even look at me anymore.”

that comment stung, even recalling your wounded tone made his heart ache

was he really not paying attention to you?

but, unsurprisingly, the feelings of anger didn’t abate. just what made you think you could play these games with him, the two of you were grown, you knew if you wanted something all you had to do was ask—it made no sense

steel pen tip digging into the hurried scrawl of kaminari’s essay....if you could even call it that, he rose from his desk, relieved his tense neck from the presence of hair by knotting it into a high ponytail

beginning to strip as he made his way toward your shower

you wanted him to look at you? alright. he’d do exactly that, and then some. just remember, be careful what you wish for.

“shota? look... i’m sorry for how i acted earlier. i should’ve just communicated how i felt instead of blowing up on you like that, i just get frustrated with how much you work and how we never see each other, and it makes it hard for me to—mmph!”

he meets your lips with a subdued roughness, hands splayed across your hips, water trickling across stiffened knuckles while he fumbled and scoured for any piece of you he could manage to grasp

“you said you feel like i don’t look at you anymore.”

“lets fix that. i have a proposition for you. if you manage to hold eye contact with me for however long it takes for you to cum, my body’s yours to do whatever you want with.”

“however...look away for even a second, and i’ll have no problem reminding you just how much you can take before you’re begging for me to fuck you. you know how...efficient i can be. sound fair?”

now something he’d alluded to, but never said about this little agreement? there was no way for you to win.

on days where his exhaustion levels weren’t at an all time low, he’d find himself lapping at the slightly acidic, rich nectar between your thighs for hours and hours on end

so what made you think you even had the resolve to maintain eye contact the entire time?

you lose, though that was to be expected

and shota couldn’t be happier about it

now while it’s practically canon that he’s into bondage, let’s switch things up a bit

honestly, he’s the type to love proving a point.

he’ll make you ride his dick, not letting you stop for a second even though he’s practically in your stomach at this point

bad at it? he doesn’t care. your knees are giving out? not his problem.

“sho-please, i can’t, ‘s too big...fuck—“

“damn, and to think i had ‘weak ass dick’ before. now you can’t take it? pick a side sweetheart, your desperation is showing.”

he’s not incredibly vocal in the bedroom as that’s just not who he is

but makes an exception when it comes to making fun of you

“come on, you can swallow more than that, right? tch. you’ve gotten lazy.”

is another one of those “take a photo for future reference” type of people. but he’s respectful of not only your privacy but his own, and keeps it in the hidden photos folder of his camera roll like a sane adult.

he had to learn the hard way about the importance of concealing scandalous materials that one time hizashi was using screen sharing to suggest a new learning course during a staff meeting

only for the blonde to scroll and several pairs of eyes in the room to be blessed (or cursed) with the sight of a rather ecstatic looking woman bent in a position that would make a gymnast blush

also likes to give you sloppy, shallow half strokes to drive you to the point of insanity before spreading your ass cheeks and molding your body to the bed beneath you

“you wanna know what i was thinking about when you walked out with that dress on? hm? i wondered... ‘how long it would take before we used it as a cumrag after i was done with you?’ i thought about doing this.”

oh, and by the way, there’s a mirror above your bed for a reason. but we’ll get into that some other time, won’t we?

[hobbitsnapes]

YOU GUYS ARE DATING

Corpse x MGK!sister reader

(Found this image on Pinterest so all credit goes to artist, if you know who it is please comment below so I can credit them)

A/N: this was requested by @heyitssab

Tree is tall of sex in this, but it’s more in a joking matter, plus corpse has stated he doesn’t mind as long as you are not a minor or send or tag him. I’m literally 2 years younger than him, and have no intentions of ever tagging him or sending him any of my work XD

Summary: how many idiots does it take to tell the brother and friend they’re dating? Apparently takes 2 very forgetful people, who kept their relationship secret without knowing it.

It had just been by chance, a small chance that he had been scrolling through his tags. liking and reposting art, when he saw a tag from someone he followed. He wrecked his brain for when he had followed her, coming up empty. She was cute, no denying the beauty she had as she laughed in the video. It was a clip from a stream that he didn’t know she had, as he couldn’t even remember her name, wearing his merch as it fit her snug. It fit her perfectly in fact, the large hood covering her face, hiding the flush to her face from her rather large chuckles that left her body. He couldn’t help but like the photo, and he couldn’t help but to press message either.

It was first only small likes to posts, an Occasional message, and a view on their livestreams, but that all changed when he spoke of the song he was working on with her older brother.

It all started that night, when both lay in their beds as they talked, laughed, and felt their hearts flutter each time they heard one another speak.

Her phone rang violently in her bag, nearly making her drop the to go bag all over the ground as she walked. “Hello?” She asked, as she held both bags with her hands as her shoulder gripped the phone as if it’d fall down a cliff. “Hey bug!” He exclaimed, making her chuckle as she heard the booming sound of his voice. She had always detested the nickname, as he gave it to her as kids due to her horrendous fear of the creatures. But, it brought more joy to her, as it reminded her of their youth. Having been adults for years, it was fun to hear such a childish name that’s stuck.

“Hey mopey.” She chuckled, as that was the name she gave him when he was in his emo phase that he never outgrew.

Both talked as she walked towards the elevator, mainly about how his day had gone as she silently listened.

She had always been this way, always the shyer of the two, the one to listen to others first before she said a word. He had teased her for it most of their childhood and teen life, but he had grown to love it, as he could let loose or rant to her about anything, and he knew she’d be there just to listen to him.

“So what’re you doing right now?” He asked, as she got into the elevator. “Just grabbed some dinner a few minutes before you called and nearly made me shit.” A smile painted on her face at his boisterous laughter.

“Are you at home?” He asked, as he heard the sound of the elevator beeping in the background. “No, I’m spending the night with my boyfriend.”

She had mentioned about a month prior that she was seeing someone, the joy it brought him to hear the excitement and joy in her tone as she gushed about their first date.

If this was 7 or 8 years prior, he would be bombarding her with questions about the man, who he was, where he lived, where he could meet him to find his intentions with his baby sister. But, in the last few years, he found himself feeling calmer whenever she’d mentioned her love life. He knew she was smart, and would never date a man who treated her poorly. The few breakups she had, they always ended amicably, her head still high as she told him. So, he never asked her any questions about the man, as he could tell from the few times she mentioned him, he could feel the love this man had for her, and Vice versa.

The strong barreling of her phone alerted them awake, both groaning out as she reached for her phone without lifting her head from his shoulder. “Hello?” She mumbled, voice slurred as the saliva was thick in her mouth, barely awake as she fought to listen in on who dares to wake them up.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, making her equally exhausted lover groan. She shifted off of him, laying on her back as he turned away from her, as to hopefully shut his eyes and fall back asleep. She was used to her brother's large voice, as it hardly phased her after growing up with him. “Colson, why are you calling me this ungodly hour?” “Oh come on, it’s not that early.” “Col its-“ She pulled her phone from her ear, eyes shutting violently as the bright light blinded her “5 o’clock in the morning. So again, I’m going to ask you, why did you call me at the asscrack of dawn?” “You don’t remember?” He asked, making her irritation grow. “No, that’s why I’m asking.” She says, as she rubbed her sleep crusted eyes. “You were coming up today to hang out with casie, remember?” Her hand stopped rubbing her face, as she felt her heart stop momentarily. “Wait, you mean today? I thought I was coming Friday?” “No, both of you settled on today, remember I told you that’s perfect because I have a day off?” She felt her heart pain as she heard the sadness in his tone, knowing he’s expecting her to bail. “Yeah sorry, I thought you meant Friday so I mixed it up, let me get ready and I’ll be out the door okay? Love you” she said, as she hung up the line.

Before she could even move, she felt his arm wrap around her body. A tired groan leaving his lips. “Nooo stayyyy.” He groaned, pulling her body to his. She smiled as she looked down at him, wrapping her arm on his chest and the other behind his neck. “I wish I could live, but I can’t.” Planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Stay in bed for a few more hours, please?” Her heart pulled at his tone, hearing just how tired he was. “I can’t, casies wanted me to come up for weeks now. And it takes a good 3 hours to get there. I wanna spend as much time as I can with them before it gets dark so I can get back safely.” He groaned at this, wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah but it’s only 5, it wouldn’t be safe to drive since we went to bed like, 2 hours ago.” “Yeah, and whos fault was that mister?” She teased, “hmm, sorry but I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself after not seeing you for a few days.” He mused, pulling her body closer to his, planting his lips against hers. A small hum left her lips as he pulled her thigh over his, grabbing the flesh harshly as their lips cascaded together. “Mm, no no no, you’re not gonna convince me to stay here just to go another round.” She said, as she got off from his warm body, throwing his large hoodie over her bare body. “Oh come on babe, are you sure about that?” He said, making her turn around to him. A small gasp left her lips as her eyes took in his milky white complexion. His honey brown eyes looking back at her with a small smile etched onto his face. His hair a tousled mess that resembled a bird's nest, some pieces falling onto his face. “Honey, I’ve been wanting to see my family for weeks now, I see you almost everyday and practically live here. I’ll be back tomorrow so I can grab more clothes from my place okay?” She placed a kiss to his lips, both holding one another in their arms. “I don’t know why you don’t just say fuck that place and just move in.” He mumbled, making her chuckle and heart warm. “Don't you think it’s a little soon though? I mean we’ve only been together a few months love.” “Yeah, but you’ve practically lived here since we got together, you literally just go there to get more clothes that you end up leaving here.” She looked into his eyes as she thought about his words. “Hm, I’ll think about it today okay?” She mused, planting a kiss to his lips. A soft okay leaving him as she got up.

“And babe, remember if you live here, we can have all the sex we want and not have to worry about driving to get one another.” He exclaimed, laughing at the loud honey she screamed from the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but laugh out as she watched, as her niece tried her hardest to braid her fathers grown out hair. It was near impossible not to, as pieces would fall out, resulting in her pulling them harsher, nearly pulling his eyelids back due to the tension from his temples. “Okay okay you’re gonna fuckin scalp me.” He chuckled , as all three bursted out in large laughter.

“So how’s school going this year?” She asked her, as she delicately painted her nails. Both of the girls had found themselves on the floor in front of the nice coffee table, as colson sat and chatted with them. “It’s going really well.” “Oh yeah? Make any new friends?” She teased. “I mean, kinda.” She couldn’t help but hear the wavering in her tone, spotting the faint blush dusting her skin. “Ohh, so there’s a someone eh?” She teased to her, making the preteen hide her face as to conceal the flush. “His names Garrett, and we both take social studies together. He always sits next to me at lunch, and we’ll draw on my notebook.” She gushed, making her smile. “Soo, do you think he likes you?” “I mean, that’s what everyone keeps saying.” “Yeah well don’t worry about it to much cas, you’re not dating anyone for many more years. You’re still a kid.” Her das said, making the young girls face fall.

Y/N knew he was only saying this to protect her, as he said the same thing to her growing up. “Hey, don’t be bummed out about it. He is right, you both are only 12 and should focus on school. But don’t worry, he’ll come around. He was just like that with me up until my current boyfriend.” She whispered, making the young girl chuckle.

“Speaking of which, how are you guys doing?” He asked, as she hadn’t mentioned hun to her in a while. He didn’t think it’d hurt to ask. “Great actually, we’re thinking of moving in together actually.” “That’s great! I’m really happy that y’all met.” “Yeah, I am too.” She hummed, a flush dusting her cheeks.

Both men laughed as they chatted on the phone, talking about anything that would come to mind. What was once only a collaboration for a song, turned into an amazing friendship that caused both of them to call at late hours just to shoot the shit.

A yawn left his lips, as he listened to colson ramble on about another song he was making. “Woah, you tired man?” Colson asked, shocked to hear the sound. “Yeah sorry, was up most of the night last night.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Were you feeling alright?” He asked, worry laced in his tone. He knew all about his friends illnesses, even once being on the other end of the phone during a bad spell one day.” “Oh yeah yeah yeah, was just, up with the misses last night.” He chuckled, a flush blooming on his cheeks. “Ohhh yeah? And how was it?” This shocked him, nearly feeling his heart stop. Like, does he usually know about his sisters sex life? He didn’t think much of it, as he knew just how close both were. “It was absolutely fucking amazing. Like I thought we’d be done for the night, fully tapped out but after like 5 minutes she’d be right back on me for another round.” He chuckled, his flush even worse than before. “Ayyyeee good for you corpse, glad to hear that puss is bussin.” He laughed at this, throwing his head back. “Yeah, it’s bussin bussin.”

Both men talk as they read from their phones, eyes wide in absolute awe of the love they received from the song. They had just dropped it a few days prior, not expecting the cry of joy from both fan bases.

He didn’t even look up from it when she walked in, until she bent down to plant a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry I had completely forgot about the tea I made you an hour ago, but I put it back on the stove to heat it up so if it’s twisting funky just tell me okay?” Before he could even thank her, both their heads whipped towards the loudness from the other line. “Y/N? Is that you? What in the hell are you doing there with corpse!” He didn’t sound angry, more shocked than anything, both of them looking at the phone in confusion. “I, I love here? Remember I told you like a month ago I was moving in with him?” “WHAT!” Both jumped at the loud scream. “Wait so you guys are dating!?” Both we’re even more perplexed, until it dawned on both of them. Their eyes wide as they turned their heads to one another slowly. “Wait you didn’t tell him?” “No? He’s one of your best friends so I thought you did!” “He’s your brother! So I thought you did!” Both whisper, until all three lay silent. That was until, the large cry of laughter that leaves the two, leaving colson even more confused. He wasn’t mad, not at all actually. More shocked and confused than anything. Until he started thinking, it does make sense, all the times they spoke about one another without him knowing, all the times they mentioned-“OH GOD!” He yelled, gagging violently, making them stop their laughing fit. “What's wrong? Why are you yelling?” She asks “like a month ago corpse was talking about how he was tired cause he was up all night having sex AND I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU! OH GOD WAS THAT WHY YOU WERE LIMPING THAT DAY WITH CAS AND I!” Both laugh even harder, as they listen to his ever growing gags.

“So yeah,. That’s literally how we had no idea we were keeping the relationship secret from her brother.” He laughed, as he red the comments and listened to his friends' laughter. She sat beside him, head laying on his shoulder as he told the story. She couldn’t help but to look back up into his eyes, as he glanced down at her, planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Keep it pg guys.” Colson said from the other line, making them chuckle.

[asset35-maya]

RED DRESS

Part 2/2 of Nice Things

//

“Come on, we’re going to be late.”

“Five minutes, sweetheart. Please.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed with a thump. The day had finally come when the human was more punctual than the android. He sniggered at the thought but refrained from saying it out loud. Nines looked far more serious than he ought to for a Friday night.

“Babe, it’s just the guys. And Tina.” 

Nines ignored him in favor of twirling a mascara wand through his lashes. 

“We’re literally going to Abick’s. That’s like the oldest, grungiest cop bar you can-”

“It’s not the place or the company, sweetheart.”

Gavin watched Nines finish off with eyeliner. Somehow even androids’ mouths hung open in concentration while doing that. 

He stood up from the little pouffe and shook his long hair out with a flourish. Taking that as his cue, Gavin got up and pressed himself up against his lover’s back. He curled his arms around Nines’ trim waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. 

Their eyes met in the mirror of the wooden dresser that Gavin had built for Nines.

“Whatchu so gorgeous for?”

Nines tried, but couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

“Shut up and zip me up.”

It wasn’t like he couldn’t reach behind himself and do it on his own. The RK900 model was supremely dexterous, flexible to the point of double-jointedness. 

It was more of an implicit request for the human’s approval of the outfit. Nines didn’t need it, but he asked anyway… just like later that night, Gavin would ask him if it was okay to splurge on a bacon cheeseburger or order an extra shot in his whiskey coke… 

They were codependent like that.

Gavin left one hand on the android’s stomach and placed the other on the small of his back, just at the opening of the dress. His thumb grazed the zipper, but he didn’t demonstrate any further intent to pull it up. 

“You said we were going to be late.”

Gavin swept the dark curtain of hair aside and pressed his lips to the exposed skin at the nape of Nines’ neck. When he spoke it was a whisper.

“Why’s my babydoll looking like something out of a movie for my dumb little promotion party?” 

His hand slipped into the open flap of the dress. It was a simple knee-length a-line. Fairly modest, but something about it set Gavin’s heart racing. Perhaps the colour. A vibrant, lusty, sexy, show-stopping red in sharp contrast to the milky white synthskin.

Nines couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him at the touch. Sighing, he tipped his head back and let Gavin nuzzle his neck. 

“Hmm?”

“Now we’re really going to be late, sweetheart. Zip… hhhhh… zip… me up…”

“Come on, doll. I don’t want someone accidentally spilling beer or mustard on this pretty little thing you got on. It’s just gonna be a chill night out with our friends. They demanded a treat for my promotion, and Hank said he’d come too, so I picked a place he’d be more comfortable at, and I realise that’s not exactly your scene, but I’m glad you’re coming with me, but I really gotta say this dress-”

Nines turned around in Gavin’s grasp and silenced him with a kiss.

“It’s not the place or the company,” he repeated, putting his arms around the human’s neck. 

“It’s your promotion party. It’s about your achievements, your hard work, YOU. And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re the most important person in my life. My partner in more ways than one. My everything.

Your rise in stature means as much if not more to me than my own accomplishments. I’m not the RK900 with the impeccable solve rate. I’m Sergeant Reed’s better half. 

If I had it my way we’d be doing something much grander, but this is how you want to celebrate and that’s fine, but please don’t stop me from dressing for the occasion.”

They looked at each other for a long moment. Steel blue and storm green locked in stalemate. 

Then Gavin pulled Nines into a tight embrace. He released him abruptly and spun him around, zipping up the dress in a flash. Avoiding eye contact lest the tears pricking his eyes betray him, Gavin caught the android’s hand in his and marched out of the apartment.

//

Connor greeted them at the entrance of the bar and waved them over to where the motley crew sat, already well into their first round of drinks.

Hank raised his beer glass in greeting, wearing an orange striped shirt he apparently deemed worthy of festivities. Tina enveloped Gavin in a giant hug. For a good thirty seconds he could see nothing but flannel. Then Miller, Person and countless other officers took turns congratulating him and bringing up past cases or incidents they couldn’t believe hadn’t held Gavin’s career back. 

Nines extricated himself with an artful wave of long fingers and settled onto a bar stool beside his older brother Sixty and his husband Allen. Serious, snarky and clad in their usual black leather, these two were more Nines’ speed.

Ignoring Sixty’s irritated grumble, Nines took a sip of his thirium drink to see if he liked the taste and ordered one for himself. He was prepared to spend the rest of the night sitting still and not touching the many sticky, greasy surfaces in the bar. It wasn’t his idea of fun, but he was happy to let Gavin and his friends do their thing.

Gavin, however, didn’t seem to be in the mood. He humoured his friends (many of whom were now his direct reports) and played along with whatever they insisted on doing, but Nines felt his partner’s eyes on him the entire evening.

“You punishing him?”

“Hmm?”

Sixty was squinting at him shrewdly.

“For coming to this shithole to celebrate. That’s why you wore this? Poor bastard can’t keep his eyes off you.” 

Nines swatted his brother on the chest. 

“I don’t play games like you.”

“Who says I play games?”

Allen shook his head but didn’t look up from his phone.

“I have a fashion sense, Six, not an agenda. I’m not punishing him for anything.”

“Well, you’re certainly distracting him. Reminds me of the time Allen said something stupid while we were getting ready for a shift so I put on lingerie underneath my gear. He nearly fell off a roof that day.”

Allen buried his face in his hands while Nines laughed out loud. 

“Shiiit. Your guy looks fucking lovesick. In front of all his staff too. They’re gonna think he’s a total sap. A new authority figure like him has got to show some grit.”

“Six, your husband follows you around like a lost puppy but that hasn’t interfered with his ability to lead your unit. Gavin will be fine.”

Allen didn’t know whether to consider that an insult or a compliment and settled for sipping his drink in silence.

“So what are you gonna do?”

“To?”

“Make the torture worth his while.”

At that exact moment, Gavin gave Nines a look from across the bar that could have only one interpretation. Sixty noticed and barked a laugh. 

Nines self-consciously tucked his hair behind his ear and smoothed down his dress. If he were human he’d have blushed bright red. 

Back to idly scrolling through his phone, Allen spoke without looking up.

“Let him do whatever he wants.”

Nines’ eyes widened. Sixty nodded wisely.

“His imagination is probably running all over the place right now. All you have to do is let him act on it and you’ll make him the happiest man on earth. It’s his promotion. You should be the prize.”

Allen put down his phone and scooted closer to Sixty, wrapping his arms around the android. They both looked at Nines with identical expressions that were anything but innocent. 

“Yeah, Nines. Dress like a present, expect to be unwrapped.”

Raucous cheers erupted as Gavin lost yet another game of beer pong. The new sergeant barely noticed and took the shot glass thrust into hand by a very jubilant Connor. Nines raised his glass in a silent toast and the two downed their drinks together.

The rest of the evening was an exercise in painful self-restraint. Gavin entertained various playful requests and posed for photos and thanked each and every one of his colleagues for their strong support. Hank clapped him on the shoulder proudly, and Tina even teared up at one point, emotionally overcome with happiness for her oldest and closest friend. Nines watched it all quietly from his perch beside Sixty and Allen.

//

As soon as they slid into an autonomous taxi, Gavin’s lips were on his, smothering him in heated, demanding kisses. Intoxicated and utterly uninhibited, the human put his hands in Nines’ hair… all over his body… and up the pretty red dress. No words were exchanged the entire ride home. 

The fact that android skin could not be marked or bruised was the only thing that let them walk through their busy lobby and ride the elevator up with dignity intact.

As soon as the front door slammed shut, Gavin was all over Nines. He touched and groped and claimed and conquered. 

The dress zipper was pulled down as quickly as it had been pulled up before they left for the bar. Nines stepped out of the puddle of red fabric as delicately as he could and pulled Gavin’s shirt off too. It was only the high quality gyroscope of the RK900 model that kept them from crashing to the floor before making it to the bed. 

Nines allowed himself to be pushed onto the bed and parted his legs for Gavin to easily settle between them. From there, he expected things to go at lightning speed… for Gavin to plough into him and come with a loud roar after a couple minutes, finally sated after a night of frustration.

The exact opposite occurred. 

Even after all the tequila shots Connor and Tina made him do, Gavin was somehow still lucid enough to put his lover’s feelings over immediate physical needs. 

“Babe, I… am soooo… sorry…”

One hand wound up in his hair and the other gripped his hip. 

“Like.. you dressed the phck up… like you looked soooooo damn beautiful, baby… I’m gonna cry.”

For a moment, it honestly looked like that was a possibility until Nines reached up and stroked the human’s stubbled cheek.

“I know Abick’s is kinda crusty but you came anyway… looking like a million bucks but I didn’t spend a second with you… T and Con and the crew… they kinda took over…”

“It’s fine, sweetheart. It was our whole team’s night as much as yours. I’m glad they all had their fun.”

“I didn't. Have any fun.”

“Really? Not even when Chris did that Fowler impersonation?”

“Couldn’t stop… thinking of you… you’re so damn good to me… and I…”

“I was fine. You invited Six and Allen to keep me company and it was fiiiineee.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Now come on, sarge. Show me who’s boss.”

Nines rolled his hips against Gavin’s and that was all the conversation there was to be had for the night. They were both still getting used to having nice things… but they were doing well.

//

Inspired by @marndraws

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch.3: Jesus Is A Pisces

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder has forgotten Scully’s birthday every year but one. Actually, make that two now, since this year he’s determined to make the day special for her somehow. He’d asked her casually what her plans were, and she admitted that outside of a lunch with her mother and some church friends on Sunday the 22nd, she didn’t really have any intention to celebrate.

“It’s been a rough couple months,” she’d explained softly, and that’s all he needed to hear.  She’d gained and then buried a daughter within a few days’ time over Christmas, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know how she managed to stay sane after that, and if he thought about it for too long the waves of powerlessness and guilt that rolled over him were debilitating.

So instead he focused on what he could do.

“You wanna do something after work on Monday? I promise to be as un-festive as possible,” he offered.

She looked uncertain, licked her lip. “Just us?” she asked.

“Just you and me,” Mulder assured her, the words giving him a tiny, shameful thrill.

She was quiet for a moment. “Sure,” she said finally.

Come Monday, February 23rd, it’s business as usual in the basement office. They finalize their reports from the previous week’s case, wrangle their receipts, argue over who broke the stapler (It was him, she insists; while he claims she jammed the staples in and made it impossible to use properly).

At three minutes to five o’clock, she clears her throat softly as she gathers her things, and he can feel her preparing to speak.

“Yeah, Scully?” he murmurs.

“We still on for tonight?” she asks, sounding almost cautious, and his heart fractures.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he confirms, leafing through a file. “Be sure to bundle up.” He looks up at her and gives her a reassuring grin.

She looks happy and… relieved? Huh.

“Well, I’ll see you then,” she says, shrugging on her coat as she leaves.

Mulder smiles at the door as it clicks shut behind her. He’s unusually giddy about what he has planned for the evening.

Over the weekend he had gone to the grocery store since his refrigerator was barren, then camped out in his building’s laundry room all day Sunday washing every blanket he owned. He even stopped at the little bakery around the corner from his apartment, purchasing a single chocolate cupcake and a loaf of rye bread.

After work he packs his car with a cooler, a duffel bag, a large thermos of coffee, and a pile of blankets.

He’s surprised to see that she’s waiting for him on the steps of her apartment, wearing a heavy jacket and thick turtleneck sweater.

“I got too hot wearing all this inside,” she explains, climbing into the passenger seat. She seems almost excited, and he strangely wants to cry. God, he’s so fucking glad he had the balls to invite her out again.

“Where are we going, Mulder?” Scully asks.

“It’s a surprise,” he replies.

Seven minutes and three wrong turns later, he reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out the map, handing it to her. “Rock Creek Park, please, Navigator,” he says.

“Aha! I thought the route we were taking seemed… circuitous,” Scully says with a smirk, unfolding the map.

“Just tell me where to go; I don’t need a running commentary,” he gripes, secretly relishing her needling.

In about twenty minutes, they arrive at the park’s nature center. Mulder pulls into the lot next to the field across the road and cuts the engine.

“We’re here?” Scully asks, looking around. “It’s deserted. Mulder, please don’t tell me we’re ghost hunting,”

“Ghosts? No,” he says, climbing out of the car and going around to the trunk. “Help me with some stuff?”

Scully comes around to the back of the car, where Mulder hands her the cooler and thermos. He slings the duffel bag over his shoulder and gathers up the pile of blankets. “Close the trunk, will you, Scully?” he says, walking towards the field. “My arms are full.”

They trudge out to the middle of the field, cold winter air biting their cheeks. Mulder stops abruptly and drops the blankets onto the ground in a heap.

“We’re here,” he announces, setting down the duffel bag. He picks up a heavy wool blanket and spreads it out on the grass.

Scully sits down on the blanket, cooler and thermos beside her. “What exactly are we doing out here, Mulder?” she asks.

“Well first, we eat,” he replies, reaching for the cooler. He opens it and pulls out two waxed-paper parcels, handing one to her. “Pastrami on rye,” he announces. “I went a little crazy with the mustard on one of them, we can trade if you want.”

“You made these?” she asks, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite. “Oh my god,” she groans. “Mulder, you’ve been holding out on me. This is delicious.”

The satisfaction in her voice makes him flush. “It’s pretty hard to mess up pastrami.”

“True,” she agrees, “but I was starting to doubt you could even make food. Your refrigerator is usually pretty sparse.”

Mulder shrugs, opening the thermos of coffee and pouring her a cup. “Cooking for one doesn’t hold much appeal,” he explains.

“Mm,” she agrees around a mouthful of sandwich, taking the proffered cup. “So Mulder, tell me; is there a reason we’re having a picnic in the dark?” She eyes the duffel bag beside him suspiciously.

“I’m glad you asked,” he replies, unzipping the bag and pulling out a tripod. “You know anything about constellations, Scully?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course. He already knows.

“A thing or two,” she replies casually, clearly attempting to hide the smile sneaking across her mouth as she eats.

“Well that’s good, seeing as I lugged this telescope and a star map all the way out here,” he says, pulling the telescope case out of the bag.

Scully is enraptured, and Mulder thinks this might be the best thing he’s ever done for anyone.

“I haven’t done this in years,” she says, peering through the eyepiece as she adjusts the telescope’s position. “Not since…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to. He remembers her telling him once, on a long car ride to some anonymous, unremarkable town, about stargazing with her father when she was a child. Captain Ahab and his Starbuck, navigating the night skies by way of celestial markers.

The temperature’s dropping, and Mulder drapes the ratty tribal weave blanket from his couch around her shoulders as she searches the heavens.

“You want a turn?” she asks, drawing back from the telescope for a moment.

He shakes his head, plops down on the blanket and gazes at her instead.

They could be astronauts together, sailors of the stars. Dropping anchor in pools of the Milky Way, swimming through constellations and running their fingers through glittering strands of nebulae.

“I’m good,” he replies softly.

“Mulder?” Scully says from under a pile of blankets.

They’re lying on their backs now, side by side, eyes on the sky. Waiting for a meteor, or a passing satellite, or for God to wave hello.

“Yeah, Scully?”

“Do you give any credence to astrology, or is that too close to religion for you?”

“I appreciate its historical and cultural significance,” he replies. “Beyond that, I can’t say I have much of an opinion on it. Aren’t you a Pisces?” he asks, as though he doesn’t already know that she is, and that he’s a Libra, and that the shitty magazine he picked up in the dentist’s office says they’d be a tumultuous but passionate match. Not that he gives horoscopes any weight.

Passionate, though…

“I am. And I’m inclined to agree with you, though astrology’s link with early Christianity is fascinating. For example, did you know that Jesus is linked to Pisces? His birth coincides with the dawning of the astrological Age of Pisces, which spans from 1 AD to the year 2150. There are many scriptural references to fishermen, and early Christians used the fish symbol as a sign of their faith.”

“Huh,” he says, tucking a blanket more tightly around his shoulders.

“I don’t believe that the stars dictate my temperament, by the way,” Scully continues. “But there’s something beautiful about having a constellation in the sky that corresponds with your own birth. Missy knew more about this stuff,” she say wistfully. “She’d read me my horoscope every morning before school while we brushed our hair or whatever, in the bathroom where Mom couldn’t hear. It was fun,” she says with a sigh.

“Do you think she’s out there, in the stars?” Mulder asks and immediately regrets it. He didn’t mean the question to sound flippant.

Scully takes it in stride. “Is it crazy if I say maybe? There’s… there’s things I’ve seen and heard, Mulder, that I can’t explain. Who am I to say how God operates? Maybe He’s laid the stars out like a map for us to read. That’s probably wishful thinking, but life would be a hell of a lot simpler if everything was dictated by heavenly bodies.”

“Better that than by governing bodies,” Mulder agrees.

Their eyes drift along the razor-sharp curves of the crescent moon.

“My mom wants to set me up with one of her church friends’ sons,” Scully says without preamble.

“Huh,” Mulder replies, tracing Orion with his eyes. “Let me guess; he’s a dentist.”

“Emergency physician, actually,” she replies. “He’s nice.”

Mulder suddenly feels the weight of gravity pressing him down to earth. He can feel the rotation of the planet under his back, spinning him at a thousand miles an hour. “You’ve met him?” he asks.

“Yesterday, at lunch,” Scully replies. “He’s a widower, with a six-year-old daughter. I think… I think my mom thinks we could help each other.”

Mulder’s stomach churns, a facsimile of seasickness rolling through his body. “What do you think?” he asks, voice oddly hoarse. “Do you… agree with her?”

Scully pulls the blanket higher under her chin and sighs. “I don’t know, Mulder. I’m thirty-four today, and my career runs my life. I’m not sure how many chances at a family will come my way in the future. It’s not ideal, but maybe I’m past the point of getting to choose.” She pauses. “I’m sorry, I’m being fatalistic.”

Despite the near-freezing temperature, he’s got a cold sweat forming on his back. “You can always choose, Scully. As far as I see it. It’s-it’s important to me that you know that.”

She rolls onto her side, snaking a hand out of the blanket to prop herself up on her elbow beside him. “Mulder, I know you blame yourself for the things that have happened to me. But they’re not your fault.” He opens his mouth and she interrupts him before he can speak. “Don’t argue with me. It’s my birthday.”

He’s grateful for a change of subject. “That reminds me,” he says, sitting up and reaching over to open the cooler.

He pulls out a small pink bakery box and opens it to remove a single chocolate cupcake with a candle stuck in the middle. He digs a lighter out of his coat pocket and gives it a flick, igniting the candle.

“Happy birthday, Scully,” he says sheepishly, holding out the cupcake.

The single flame shimmers in her eyes as she takes the dessert. “Mulder,” she says softly, in a tone that makes his heart turn to liquid. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Just make a wish and blow the candle out before the wind does it for you,” he replies. There’s only a bit of a breeze but he’s not taking any chances. She deserves a wish.

Her eyes fall closed, and she sighs contentedly, no doubt formulating her request. Suddenly she opens her eyes and locks her gaze with his over the flickering candle, and Mulder feels a thousand words rumbling in him like an approaching avalanche.

Before he can say anything she purses her lips and extinguishes the lone flame with a breath.

She pulls the candle out of the cupcake and pops the end into her mouth, licking off chocolate frosting, and Mulder thinks he might die right there on a blanket in Rock Creek Park. He’s been so good, keeping his feelings to himself, but in this moment his only thoughts are that he loves her and wants her; no, needs her. He needs to touch her, taste the icing on her lips, map the constellations of freckles hiding beneath her sweater. Shake the winter chill out of his bones, letting the flames of her red hair lick across his skin and light his whole body on fire.

She’s saying something to him, biting into the cupcake, chocolate crumbs falling onto the blanket.

“Hm?” he asks, returning to terra firma.

“I asked if you wanted a bite,” she reiterates.

Yes, his body responds. Please please please-

“It’s yours,” he says as a declination.

“Therefore it’s mine to share,” she declares. She holds it out to him, and his stomach flutters as he leans in and takes a bite. He thinks of his parents’ faded wedding photos, of them feeding each other cake in black and white.

Don’t date the doctor guy, he pleads silently as he chews. Stay with me. Show me galaxies.

She falls asleep on the car ride home with one of his blankets tucked around her, the car’s heater cranked all the way up. When he parks in front of her building she stirs, likely awoken by the sudden cessation of warm air on her feet.

“Scully,” Mulder says softly, “We’re home.”

“Mmm,” she responds. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” he answers, glancing at his watch. “Can you walk or should I carry you up?” The question feels faintly suggestive, and he’s only being so bold because she’s drowsy and likely not registering the subtext.

“I can walk,” she says, sitting up and removing the blanket. Her hair is a fuzzy red halo in the glow of the streetlights.

“I’ll go with you,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Make sure you don’t pass out on your way up.”

“Thanks,” she yawns. “I don’t know why car rides make me so drowsy,” she says. “It’s like I’m five years old again.”

“Or it’s hypothermia,” Mulder suggests jokingly. “It got pretty damn cold out there.”

“Winter night picnics aren’t the most practical, it’s true,” she says. “But the blankets and coffee were a good idea.”

When they reach Scully’s apartment door she turns to face him. “Thank you for this,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

He smiles softly at her. “Happy birthday,” he replies.

He’s mentally debating giving her a hug when she reaches out and pulls him in gently, arms looped around his waist. He wraps his arms around her and drops a light kiss to the crown of her head.

It’s over way too soon.

“Goodnight,” she says. “See you tomorrow.”

If he says anything else to her before she slips into the apartment and closes the door, he doesn’t remember it. His feet are firmly on the ground, carrying him out of her apartment building and back to his car, but his head is far above the atmosphere, adrift in space.

He’s so in love he feels as though he’s running out of air.

[obielil]

I just want...

Reader x friend Bucky Barnes

Summary : spending time with your best friend

Warning : Angst if you squint, language, (not sure)

A/N : all mistakes are my own. No Beta. {seeing a Tiktok where a girl asked why is all Bucky fanfics doll why not something else. Really liked the idea}

Words : too must or not nearly enough.

The rain pouring down for what feels like weeks, is not good for my mood. Dancing on the fine line between healthy and depression. Every day is a new challenge. Returning to my small apartment after another day at the office, feeling drained and wet and a little overwhelmed. Unlocking my front door, dropping my bag and coat on the floor. Atleast the apartment is clean, which wasn't the case for months.

Rummaging through the fridge, making a mental not to buy some groceries. Old cheese and leftovers is not healthy meals., living on coffee and take aways would make my mom spin in her grave. But for tonight it will just have to suffice.

Grabbing my favorite mug, or should say the one I stole before leaving the compound, I make strong black coffee. Usually i like it milky but yeah being a lazy ass meant I didn't buy milk.

Grabbing my phone, scrolling through social media, seeing some reports on the Avengers. I stare at the photo of Steve, not even breathing. Is it even possible that he is looking hotter than before? Get a grip. He didnt want me remember. Tossing the phone to the side I sip the coffee.

Hearing the front door close loudly i spill hot coffee over my chest.

"Fuck......" I take of the ruined shirt and try to dry myself.

"Y/n......" Bucky enter smiling. "That's the kind of welcome I like."

"Shut up James." I glare at him.

"Come on, Sugar. Don't be like that." He pulls me in for a hug, I can't help but smile.

"Wait here. I need another shirt." i disappear to the bedroom grap and old shirt pulling it over my head. Returning I watch Bucky cleaning the spill. "So, why are you here? We didn't have plans."

"Can't I just miss my friend?"

"Spill the beans Barnes......" I raise my eyebrow at him. He smirks.

"Compound party. Not my scene."

"So you crashing here tonight?"

"Yes. I'll get dinner. And clean afterwards."

"Can't say no to free food and cleaning service....." I sit down and watch him order enough food for a small army. He looks good. Not much left of the soldier I met years ago, except for the metal arm. He brings me a beer and we scroll through the tv. When the food arrives he packs it out on the table, then grabs pillows throwing it on the floor.

We eat, talk, laugh for two hours. When I look in his eyes I see the unasked question.

"I am fine....."

"I didn't say anything." Not breaking eye contact, we both have incredible death stares. I was taught by the best.

"Buck, I don't want to talk about it. He is your oldest friend. And seriously I am well....."

"Y/n, i am here because you are my closest friend. You knew me at my worse....." He looks like there is more on his mind. ".... And i introduced you to Steve......"

"It was fun while it lasted. It wasn't meant to be more. Maybe one day him and i could be friends......." laughing at myself because i could never be 'friends' with Steve. His phone alerts of a message and he checks it, typing something.

"Just letting them know I won't be home tonight. Hot date with the sweetest sugar...." He send a wink my way.

"Naming my couch is a little fucked up James......"

" I was thinking of your bed..."

"And when have we ever been in bed together...." Laughing again almost spilling the last of the beer.

"There is always a chance of a first time..." Memories of Steve and bed flash through ny head. "I was kidding Y/n...."

"I know. Sometimes..... I don't know.... I just need......."

"You miss him?"

"I do. I loved him... maybe still love him.... "

"If he knocked on your door right now, would you let him back in?"

"He broke me and it took me months to pick up the pieces of my heart and my life.... We were good together, but he let me go and I won't go through it again......" I close my eyes. Trying to smile.

Bucky scoots to my side and hugs me. "You deserve someone who would give you everything. Who would burn the world down for you. Someone who will wake up your recklessness just enough to make you brave again." He smiles as he pulls the hair bsck from my face.

"Some day I will. Right now, I have you and work and this crappy aparment......" Grabbing the blanket from the couch I cover both of us. "I missed you and the soldier......"

"Soldat wasn't good......"

"He was good to me....." We will always disagree on this and i know it. As he pulls me close to his chest, I feel myself relax.

"We sleeping on the floor?" he whispers in my ear.

"We have done that before......." I close my eyes and fall asleep in the arms of my best friend.

[bestiesenpai]

Idolatry - Getou Suguru

I love aliens and someday I will fuck one

Content warnings: manipulation/blackmail

“Mayday, mayday! Mission control, please come in, this is astronaut Getou Suguru!” The red emergency lights were on, multiple different sirens were going off in the background and Getou had just lost the rest of his crew.

“Mission control, can you hear me?!” He slammed on the control panel, desperately flipping switches and trying to regain control of his failing aircraft. All his training back on Earth hadn’t prepared him for the possibility of a black hole opening up and sucking in half his ship, ripping it apart and taking it somewhere unknown.

“Please, please, please!” There were frantic tears and sweat dripping down Getous face as he tried to get the thrusters back online. His ship was in shambles, slipping further and further into the blackhole.

Looking up through the windshield, his view of space before him was slowly fading away and he felt an intense pull from behind him, almost as if he was being ripped apart himself as he and his ship were pulled into the blackhole.

Getou didn’t think he’d wake up after that. The world had gone completely black, all the oxygen yanked from his body and the cold vacuum of space compressed around him. Getou hadn’t expected to wake up on firm, solid ground. And much less surrounded by otherworldly creatures.

“Is it really him?” He wasn’t sure how he understood the things before him, their voices warbled and distorted, but he could. Getou could only watch with fuzzy edged vision as the creatures crowded around him and their features became clearer.

“It must be! Just look at his face!”

“He’s got the hair as well, and his skin is milky white like in the stories!”

“Our God has returned to us, what a joyous day this is!” Someone cried and Getou was lifted up from the ground and removed from the rubble that was his spaceship. Struggling to breathe, he was sure there were a few cracked ribs under his skin.

“Be gentle now, the journey from the heavens wasn’t kind on him.”

“To the temple, at once!”

Placed on a long gurney, Getou was transported to the temple in question. With his vision going in and out, he could just barely make out the bright blue trees and foreign animal sounds passing him by. The creatures that had lifted him up were now closer to be viewed and Getou could tell they weren’t of human origin.

“Oh, how we’ve waited for this day!” The heat of whatever jungle Getou was in had a light sheen of sweat gathering on his skin, but the warm air helped lull him into a more relaxed state, almost falling asleep despite the situation.

Carried up the steps of the temple, Getou barely came to when he was stripped and submerged into a pool of light green water, nearly scalding him and scented with what appeared to be rose petals floating around him.

“Call the shamans, we need to make sure everything is correct!” There was rustling around him, figures darting in and out of his half lidded gaze. Someone was lifting one of his arms to wash him, immediately letting go when he let out a pained groan.

“He needs medicine, quick!” In an instant something was being poured down Getous throat, an ice cold liquid that spread across his body and made a shiver go through him. There was a heavy silence in the air for a moment as he was observed, and all of a sudden, he felt better.

Sitting up a little straighter in the solid gold tub he could now see, Getou stayed silent as his body was washed. The creatures around him avoided eye contact, bowing their heads when he turned to look at them.

They were gentle, washing the dried blood off Getous face and combing through his hair with their long pointed nails. He’d never received such lavish treatment before, and as he relaxed further into the tub, a man dressed in robes not unlike the ones Getou owned back home came to the side of the tub with a heavy tome, reciting something in an unknown language over Getou.

He was lifted out of the tub and dried gently, dressed in a soft green robe like the man that had prayed over him, and escorted to another room. He could tell this was at the heart of the giant gray stone temple, a skylight and large windows high on the vaulted ceilings letting in plenty of natural light and illuminating the lavish scene in the middle of the room.

In the middle of the room atop a short flight of stairs, sat a golden, red tufted stool only a few feet up from the ground and surrounded by a multitude of pillows and ornate gold decorations. Several oriental rugs were draped across the floor, covering the cool limestone underfoot.

A thick mattress lay just behind the stool with semi-sheer curtains curtains concealing it and the many pillows and blankets atop it. Hundreds of candles were lit around the room as well, lighting up dark corners or simply for decoration around and atop the rugs and stool.

Able to walk on his own now, Getou slowly went up the steps with only a mild drag in his sore legs. Skimming his fingers across the seat of the stool, he walked past it and to the bed, pushing the curtains aside and melting into the squishy mattress.

Even though he couldn’t really keep track of the time, Getou was sure a week had passed since he’d crash landed on this mysterious planet. In that time, he filled in the blanks of what was going on around him.

He was being worshipped as a God, an altruistic being that had fallen from the heavens as foretold in the legends of the people that lived here. Apparently, he was one of many gods and goddesses that the planet believed in, and it just so happened that his sudden appearance aligned with a prophecy that he would arrive.

Not one to live in a lie, Getou had originally wanted to tell the truth once he was able to speak more properly. It wouldn’t be right for them to place such strong faith into him when he truly wasn’t what they wanted, but he found it harder and harder as time went on.

And that was because of the treatment he received. He was bathed everyday, fed delicious meals whenever he wanted and was showered in praise and admiration at every second. To say Getou was soaking up all the attention was an understatement; he was absolutely drowning in it.

“My Lord, may I approach?” It was midday, the sun beaming down through the ceiling directly onto Getou, warming him up and making him radiate with light. A temple worker he’s never seen before enters the room, head bowed and with a familiar set of objects in their hand.

“You may.” Getou quickly noticed the basin, towel and pitcher of water and sat up a little straighter in his stool. It was time for his midday foot bath. You made quick work of the steps and knelt down before him in a moment.

Getou watched as you silently poured the water, keeping your head bowed per usual. Craning his head up to the sky, Getou lazily studied the windows above him. There were no clouds in the sky on this planet, but it didn’t stop the sky from looking beautiful.

“You’re quite handsome, my Lord.” That comment had Getou’s head snapping back down and coming eye to eye with you. No one else had ever made eye contact with him, not even the shamans that spoke with him about sacred texts. The sudden change unnerved him, making him blush.

“I didn’t know you were allowed to look upon me in such a way.” Getou said, dipping his feet into the bath and relaxing his legs. “I am a God, after all. Wouldn’t a comment like that be considered blasphemous?” Regaining control over his suddenly rapid heartbeat, Getou still felt a light veil of heat across his face.

“It would be, if you really were a God in the first place.” Getou nearly choked on his spit as he heard the words come out of your mouth.

“E-excuse me?! I am a God!” His face erupted in a dark blush. This was bad, really bad. The smirk on your face told him all he needed to know; the jig was up, you saw right through him. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still try and keep up the ruse.

“An arrival from the sky may have been foretold in the legends, but you are not what was promised to us.” Your words were quick and concise, an almost harsh tone underlying them. “It was my job to go through the rubble of the craft you arrived in, and I found quite a few things labeled from a planet called ‘Earth’.”

He and Gojo just had to have too much fun with the label maker, didn’t they?

“Earth is what us God's call the place we reside.” Clearing his throat, Getou tried to soothe his burning cheeks.

“Then why did I find this?” Digging into a hidden pocket within your robes, you pulled out a thick manuscript, personally typed and signed by Getou outlining his position within the team and the duties he’d fulfill while on the mission that ultimately brought him here.

The edges of the paper were all burnt and crispy, but most of the pages were still intact. Flipping through them, you showed him all the polaroid pictures that were stuffed inside of Getou in his space suit and at the control panels of the ship, and with Gojo and other crew members.

“I didn’t think a God would carry around so many papers about his job. I thought you just knew.” Tossing the manuscript to the floor, you sprinkled smelling salts into the water and grabbed onto one of Getou’s feet, raising it only slightly as you let him mull over the new information before him.

“So, I assume you’ll have me killed for lying, then?” There was a heavy pit sitting in his stomach, but Getou knew this day would come, it was only a matter of when.

“Kill you? Never!” Your sudden laugh gave him pause.

“Then what? What will happen to me now?”

“I intend to use this information to my advantage.”

“You want to use me to climb the ranks at the temple, don’t you?” Narrowing his eyes, Getou could already see the plan formulating behind your eyes.

“Precisely, my Lord. Over the course of a few months, I will become your most trusted advisor.” Letting go of his foot, your hand slid up Getou’s leg, your pointed nails scraping against his skin. “And before the anniversary of the sun’s return, I will be the highest shaman in the temple. Your right hand, if you may.”

As you spoke, your hand went higher and higher, skimming the edges of his long silken robe and going under it, cupping his knee for a moment before stopping midthigh. If anyone walked in right now, what would they say to the scene in front of them?

“What’s in it for me?” Getou shuddered as your nails dragged lightly along his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake that had his senses tingling. You flashed him a smile, one full of rows of shiny black teeth.

“Why, you get to remain the all powerful God of this land, bestowing wisdom upon the subjects that worship you.” Sidling up to Getous legs, you fully pushed apart his robes to reveal his soft cock. “And…”

“And?” Getou pressed as you trailed off, subtly opening his legs as much as he could with his feet still in the basin. You chuckled at him, hand grabbing gently onto the base of his cock. Getou had come to learn that the creatures on this planet were often colder than he was, and your lukewarm hand was a testament to that.

“And I’ll keep you nice and happy.” Brazenly leaning over his lap, you sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth, your long tongue lapping out and wrapping around him, the tip going all the way down to his balls.

“Ah!” The unexpected pleasure shooting up his spine made Getou curl inward, knocking over the basin and spilling water onto the rugs. His hand shot out to grasp the back of your head, urgently trying to ground himself as his mind turned to mush.

“Don’t worry about the mess, my Lord. I’ll clean it up.” Pulling off his cock, you licked your lips and looked over your shoulders.

“You- what’s your name?” Getou panted, his legs already starting to tremble.

“(Y/N), my Lord.” You grinned, beginning to slowly jerk off his cock.

“(Y/N).” He tested the name on his tongue but he couldn’t speak any further as you thumbed the tip of his cock.

“But you don’t need to worry yourself about that now.” Now that his feet were free, you could slide in between Getou’s legs and get to his cock easier. “Right now, it’s all about you.”

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Lol hi im back, alright this is based off another thung i read by milky theholy1 and its like donatello uses this time machine etc etc. Well what if di. Had one of his brothers (preferabley raph) and the reader go forward 10 years and see they have a family of their own? Idl just thought itd be a fun oneshot :)

Oohhhh I've actually read that fic and I absolutely loved it. Hope I do it justice for ya 🧡

TMNT Oneshot's

Yeah you guessed it- time travel

This was not, under any sort of circumstance, how you thought you were going to spend your Thursday evening. You did get a waffle out of it, so that took some of the edge off but with the boys just waking up they had way too much energy for you to deal with. Excluding Donnie of course, the turtle had been awake for longer than 36 hours and it definitely showed.

Cue you going into a total mom-friend moment (you didn't care if he could technically bench press you he was going to drink his water dammit) and yanking the bottle of melatonin gummies out of your bag to throw at him. No shock was felt when he caught them and raised an eyebrow ridge, you opted to simply flip him off.

Over coffee the two of you sat at his desk and discussed his latest plan, you really shouldn't have been surprised that it was a time machine. You knew Donnie well, of course he'd be the one to think of something like this.

"Okay good, I see your point there- no I'm still not happy that you're making me your test dummy but it is a time machine," You pointed out with an exhausted tone.

The genius seemed to perk up at this and your heart plummeted towards the ground.

"Oh right! I forgot to mention it, you're not going alone. Raph's going with you!"

With that statement now out in the open you took the liberty of pushing your mug to the side to avoid any damage before letting your head slam into the desktop. Donnie, still finding this amusing, poked at your shoulder with a smile. His optimism made you fight against your instinct to groan like a toddler.

"Donnie why t'hell are ya waking me up so damn early?" The very antagonizing, very familiar voice drawled from behind you.

Raphael looked asleep, scratch that, he looked like a whole corpse and a half. Standing in the doorway of his brothers lab and glancing between the two of you like you'd grown extra heads. Which you figured was fair, but the fact that he was perceiving you made you want to light him on fire.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Wha- I didn't say anything! Donnie, don't make me go with him. Literally anyone else. I am legitimately begging you.

"Yeah, what they said, lemme go back to sleep," The terrapin yawned mid sentence and stumbled over his own feet, nearly resulting in him landing on his own face and seriously disappointing you when he didn't. He was too tired to shoot you the normal withering glare and instead opted to shove you off of your chair when he stood up, Donnie did nothing to discourage this.

You gave Raphael a single enraged look and turned your gaze to his brother.

"I'm not going with him."

----------------------------------------

"I can't believe I'm stuck in this fucking box with you."

The turtle scoffed in mild offense and rolled his eyes, attempting to turn around again and in doing so shoved you into the wall with a pathetic groan of annoyance. He was completely ignoring you and while you were fine with that it also made you want to vomit.

"Raphael I swear to god if you crush me one more time I'm gonna French fry your green ass," Your voice may as well have been a growl, that's what it sounded like anyways.

Your companion had the nerve to laugh at you but at least he stopped his movement, you looked the other way, your stare boring into the wall to avoid his questioning stare.

"You good shorty?"

"I'm five eight you fuck-"

The machine rattled around them in protest and the sheet metal looked like it was about to catch fire, you and Raph made hesitant eye contact.

"How likely did Donnie say that this thing was to catch on fire?"

You shrugged helplessly and shuffled your feet as a nervous habit, your shoulder bumped his side as you pushed your way to the door.

"We should check it out, right?"

He didn't get the chance to nod because you'd already stepped out of the machine and back into the room you started in. You gave a sigh of displeasure and glanced around the room. Raph followed behind you and kept his eyes narrowed for threat. You were definitely in the lab, there was no doubt about that. But this lab was cleaner than you'd ever seen in your life and you knew that there was no way that Donnie had cleaned all of this in under five minutes.

You didn't have to be psychic to know that your turtle escort was staring at you, not that you cared, you were far to interested in the photo frame on Donnie's much newer desk. It appeared to be a family picture. Sporting a much older looking Splinter, a more mature Casey and April with their arms around each other, and an even more shocking looking Leo, Mikey, and Donnie, who for some reason all hand someone under their arm who looked shockingly human.

But what really took the air out of your lungs were the four at the side of the picture. A person who you assumed was you, but somewhere in their early thirties, tucked under Raph's arm. That wasn't inherently shocking, but the young boy standing in front of you with your hand on his shoulder and the little girl hanging from the turtle's other arm was.

"Raph?"

He was still clueless.

"Huh?"

"C'mere."

His eyes bulged out of his skull the second they landed on the picture frame in your hand, you gave him a calm raised eyebrow that was concealing your bubbling anxiety within. He took an extra moment to look between you and the picture several times before awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and watching you set the frame back on the desk.

"I uh- I think this might be a good time to tell ya that I like ya?" At your confused expression he sighed in defeat, "I'm mean to ya because I don't like the feelings you give me..."

You snorted out a laugh and rolled your eyes, "Dude, I'm just mean to you because you act like an ass."

You both took a second to laugh at that, then you heard voices approaching and made a quick scramble back to the machine.

Donnie was eagerly awaiting your feedback and met you with a nervous smile when you both stepped out the smoking door.

"Well? How'd it go? What'd you see? Are you hurt?"

You and Raph shared a glance, hiding the underlying hilarity of the situation at hand. You were the one to respond first.

"Not much. But your lab's clean in the future."

[theoldgaylion]

For the doriax prompts 👀 "seeking each others hands while sleeping" or "dancing together".

Whichever sounds more fun :))

Read it on ao3

"That was kind of Mr. Gilmore to invite us, don't you think?" Fearne asked in her usual hushed tone as she finished braiding Opal's long silky hair, who was sitting on a velvety dormeuse adorned with golden details and attentively following her movements.

"Especially after the troubles we caused him." Orym gloomily mused as he leant against the wall next to where the faun and the girl stood, one hand reflexively resting on his hip as if ready to act on whatever upcoming threat, despite not carrying any kind of weapons on his person.

Sitting, too, but in a little, uncomfortable armchair, though as luxurious as the dormeuse, in the farthest corner of the room, was Dorian. As he was trying to not have a panic attack and thus ruin everybody's feisty mood, he barely registered his friends chatting in the background. He was overwhelmed, the rooms and the main hall outside brimmed with people, from enriched nobles to foreign merchants to powerful wizards, and that feeling of inadequacy struck him as fiercely as ever. Although the possibilities were close to none, he was also afraid to come across his relatives, whether distant or not. He didn't want to meet them, he didn't want his friends to meet them, not when he left that life behind his back.

His mind was spiraling as he stared at a blank spot outside the wide window on the opposite wall, nervously twisting his fingers.

"Free food and alcohol are always appreciated." Dariax commented somewhere near his right, he could see him in his peripheral vision as he stubbornly tried to keep his unruly tuft behind his ear with poor results, standing in front of a wall length mirror, his tongue sticking out between his lips and his brow furrowed in concentration.

"We really owe him a gift, though." the halfling sighed and Fearne giggled amusedly as she wrapped a beautiful, bright pink ribbon around the end of Opal's braid.

"Maybe next time we're on an adventure, we can bring something back for him." she suggested, her face lighting up as a soft smile curled up her lips.

"That's a good idea. But!" and the girl stood up from the dormeuse before declaring, hands on her hips and chest puffing out, "But now we must party and enjoy free alcohol and food, as our winged boy here suggested.".

"Yes!" the dwarf exclaimed and winked at her through the mirror, before returning to his previous task.

"Hey, do you need a hand with that?" Opal asked him as she walked over to his side. "I have some wax that'd do the work." she wiggled her eyebrows as she fished out a vial out of her high-heeled opalescent boots.

Dariax gasped as he eyed the vial, then nodded. "You're a lifesaver." he thanked her before Opal uncorked the vial and let him get some wax to do his hair properly.

The genasi jumped a little in his seat when Fearne craned her neck to look him in the eyes, then heaved out a relieved breath. He didn't even hear her approach, so lost in his thoughts as he was.

"Sorry, I didn't want to scare you, Dorian, but I was wondering…" she tapped her lower lip with a finger as she studied him. "Would you like a ponytail, perhaps? You'd look great in it." she smiled down at him as she unwrapped another ribbon from her own hair.

Dorian blinked in confusion, caught by surprise, before his gaze bounced back and forth between Fearne and the ribbon she was now holding.

"W-why not?" the genasi accepted in a weak tone as he shrugged his shoulders.

Fearne just chuckled at that, then waited for him to scoot forward with the armchair before positioning herself behind him. First, she began brushing and carding his hair with her fingers, letting some loose strands down to frame his sharp features. Afterwards, she carefully gathered lock by lock in her hands before lifting them up at the top of Dorian's head.

"You and Opal have the most beautiful hair, so soft." she admitted, her voice cheerful as she proceeded to secure the ponytail with the ribbon, and Dorian skeptically glanced at her, or tried to at that weird angle. Not that he didn't trust her friend's opinion, but it really never occurred to him before.

Fearne's milky white organza gown rustled softly as she clopped right in front of Dorian. "One last detail." she explained when Dorian frowned at her, not understanding why the faun was vigorously rubbing her palms, a sly grin playing on her lips as sparks of fire flickered at the friction.

Dorian was getting anxious, but that feeling was short lived, leaving room for wonder as soon as realization clicked in. Fearne's hands moved to the sides of his face, then curled the loose strands with her heated fingers and Dorian noticed that it wasn't hot at all. Magic was truly something.

Once she was finished, the faun clapped her hands, satisfied with her work. "You look amazing, my friend." she assured him, her smile softening.

"Wow." a raspy whisper caught Dorian's attention before he could reply to that and he darted his eyes in the direction of it, to his right. Dariax was watching him mouth agape and cheeks flushed, and Dorian wasn't even sure the dwarf was aware he was doing that in all honesty.

Dorian turned incredibly frustrated under that scrutiny and fidgeted in his seat as a suffocating heat spread across chest and down his belly.

"Go look for yourself." Fearne prompted him to stand up with a gentle pat on his shoulder.

Dorian slowly rose up on shaky legs and moved to stand before the wall length mirror. Okay, maybe he should've trusted his friends more, because he looked fine as fuck. He never considered himself a vain person, but, as he stared at his own reflection now, he must've admitted that that outfit highlighted his best body traits, starting with the dark blue high-waisted lace pants he was wearing, not much see-through per se but open to the sides in two slits and with incorporated shorts that ran down to his mid thighs. On his upper body, the loose peach gold chiffon top that wrapped at his middle in a silver waistband with some rhinestones and left his chest exposed, the massive flowy sleeves clung at his sides and made him look so dreamy. At his feet, his beloved winged boots.

Opal helped him with his makeup earlier but he had the chance to evaluate her work just then. She used a silver eyeliner on his eyelids, the ends as sharp as her knives, while she dusted some moonshine highlighter on his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, his pecs and under his eyebrows, following their natural curve.

After a long time spent admiring himself, he felt very observed and turned his head towards Fearne, who was still looking at him, her hands clasped together against her cheek as she smiled merrily like a mother proud of her son.

"Thank you, Fearne. It looks amazing." he told her in an earnest tone.

The faun chuckled delightedly in response, before stifling a snort as her eyes glanced away from him and Dorian quirked one eyebrow at that. Then, he heard frantic fumbling and a loud snap. He spun around and found the dwarf still there, yet turned a little to his side as if he was trying to hide something, his mouth was pressed in a thin line now while tips of his ears were as red as his face as he busied himself with the laces of his vest. Dorian didn't know what to do with that notion.

Once they were all ready, the group finally exited the room, walked down the hallway and crossed the threshold of the dance hall, just to immediately get lost among the swirling of robes and skirts and cloaks, the colorful reflections of the flames that shimmered down from big crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the chattering of voices that mixed with the soft music playing in the air, the tables full of delicacies.

That combination of visuals, sounds and smells rendered the five speechless.

"Okay, this may be a little too for us." Dariax murmured to the group after a pregnant pause, his lips pursed to the side hidden behind his hand. And the genasi couldn't agree more.

"We've been lucky that Mr. Gilmore warned us and let us go on a shopping trip before coming here." Orym pointed out as his keen eyes studied the surroundings, feeling even smaller than he was already.

"Yeah, but, I feel underdressed all the same." Opal whined in a pout, crossing her arms on her chest. "And I'm wearing a fuckin dress." she added as she ran her hands down on her big puffy tulle skirt.

“Where's the wine?" the faun asked out of the blue as she looked around, her ears eagerly perking up, and the group laughed.

"Hey, look, there's Fy'ra!" Opal exclaimed as she pointed with her index finger at her, who was already in the company of Shaun Gilmore himself and a man who presumably was his husband by the way he was circling his waist with one arm.

Orym scolded her about her manners, or lack of, but his words hardly affected her since she was trotting to Fy'ra, Fearne following suit.

He sighed hopelessly, before joining them together with Dorian and Dariax.

They all greeted and complimented each other for their attires, everyone but Orym immediately falling for Gilmore's charme once again and his husband laughed whole-heartedly at their behavior, saying that he fully understood them.

As much as he really wanted to blend in and forget about his previous worries, Dorian felt anxious and uncomfortable, also regretting his choice of outfit for the night since it would've certainly drawn attention to himself, but now it was too late, he would've dealt with it.

His current mood must've been as clear as the empty glass Gilmore was holding in his hand because he noticed Dariax sliding closer to him at some point while the rest of his friends were chatting amicably, and tilting his head up to look at him.

"You okay there, bud?" he asked him in a lower tone, his warm hues regarding him with concern.

Dorian wanted to lie, although it would've been useless. The dwarf could be... slow on the uptake sometimes, that was true, but he always understood when his friends were troubled and that was one of the things he liked the most about him, he was kind and thoughtful and cared dearly for the people he held close to his heart.

So, the genasi shook his head and bit the inner part of his cheek.

Dariax’s mouth twisted in a sad grimace upon his non-committal reply. "Alrighty, let's go grab some food, yeah?" he proposed, nudging him playfully on the thigh while showing a toothy smile.

Dorian quickly warned Orym before walking away with the dwarf to find something to eat among the many, almost too many set tables.

Dorian's uneasiness gradually dissipated thanks to the dwarf's presence. Since that moment he stayed with him the whole time, trying to draw a smile out of him and the genasi really appreciated his efforts.

The two were now standing at a table with any type of meat Dorian could imagine, Dariax was trying his hard to catch a chicken leg with a fork but it kept rolling and rolling and squishing away as oily and dripping with sauce as it was, so he gave up in the end and grabbed it by the bone. Dorian wanted to be grossed out by that, but honestly after what they've been through in the last months that was the least disgusting thing the dwarf had done involving food, or anything else really.

The genasi had to admit that Dariax really stood out in those clothes. As if he was just seeing him for the first time that night, he ranked him up and down with his gaze, taking advantage of his current distraction. The dwarf had chose a white blouse with puffed sleeves and flounce collar, his broad shoulders emphasized by.. now that he took a better look at it, Dorian noticed that it wasn't a vest, more like a corset garment that made him waist look slimmer, the velvety burgundy texture complementing his auburn hair while the golden embroideries on the hems made him look princely, somehow. On his lower half, he wore black tight trousers with a detachable wrap pleated skirt on its left side, at his feet a simple pair of dark brown leather boots.

Dariax was so… dashing.

"Want some?" the dwarf's voice brought him back to the present and Dorian felt himself blush guiltily upon being caught staring so openly. Or maybe Dariax didn't notice him at all, too focused on eating his well-earned chicken leg. The genasi really hoped it was the latter.

"Uhm, no. Actually, I'm not that hungry." he admitted in a sigh and saw Dariax's joyful mood shift a bit. Even though the dwarf was helping him a lot, anxiety was still swirling in his stomach, clutching at it, making him feel nauseous.

"But if you don't eat, you can't drink." Dariax reasoned, his half smirk slotting back on his face, and those words earned him an amused snort from Dorian. As if that ever stopped the dwarf, or anyone in their group, from getting smashed, yet Dorian knew what he was trying to do and was grateful for his patience and consistency.

"I know, but I don't think I can drink either, sorry." the genasi admitted, another sigh falling from his lips, and Dariax gazed up at him, slowly lowering the chicken leg.

Clearing his throat, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then his free hand reached out for Dorian's and that gesture made his heart skip a bit, or a few.

"I don't know what you're going through, but I think we should enjoy ourselves tonight, we deserve some funny time, don't we?" the dwarf squeezed his hand oh-so-gently as his eyes bored into his as he spoke. "You should enjoy yourself, relax, unwind, relieve some stress." another squeeze of hand and Dorian's heart quivered in his chest. "Nothing's gonna happen, and in any case, I'm here for you. You got a healer in heels next to you." he winked at him as he tapped one boot's heel against the other.

Dorian's whole face was flushed deep purple by the end of his speech and, albeit his frantic heartbeat echoing in his head, he nodded and smiled down at him. The dwarf's hand was so warm around his and his mind quickly drifted back to all those time they slept together on his bed roll, so close yet so far, as Dorian wanted to touch him and hold him and-

Dorian shook his head vehemently and swallowed around a lump in his throat.

At that distance, Dorian noticed that there was eyeshadow on Dariax's eyelids, smudged, of the color of charcoal, in strict contrast to the amber of his hues, making them shine even brighter under the lights of the chandeliers. In the inner part of the eye, a glint of gold that recalled his corset, while a bronze highlighter gleamed on his cheeks. Opal must've done his makeup, too.

The genasi found himself staring at Dariax a lot that night, clearly unable to stop himself as if magnetically drawn to him.

"And honestly, you're really missing out because this stuff is delicious. I don't know when another banquet like this will happen to us in the near future." Dariax added a few moments later, emphasizing his words by swinging the chicken leg he was still holding.

Dorian heaved out a breathy chuckle, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, more for the sake of tearing his gaze away from him than being actually annoyed by what he just told him. "Alright, you got me. No more convincing." he gave up in the end as he picked a clean plate and a fork, before wandering around the table with his look.

"That's my man!" Dariax grinned victoriously, then joined him in the food hunt.

As simple as it was, that praise made Dorian’s chest fill with warmth and affection.

"Thank you, buddy. You're amazing." the genasi said after a while, his voice soft now, and shot a glance at his side to catch Dariax's cheeks turning as red as his corset as he murmured something under his breath that Dorian couldn't quite catch. In that moment, he realized it was the second time that he inadvertently made the dwarf blush and he stopped in his movements as that thought crossed his mind. What did that mean?

Anyway, the two kept circling around the table while chatting and, since Dorian's stomach finally loosened up, he was able to eat something, too. When the genasi lifted his head in a heartfelt fit of laughter after that Dariax told one of his dumb jokes about the turkey wearing socks, his attention was caught by Opal who stood some feet away at another table, watching them with a cocky grin and an arched eyebrow.

His laughter quickly ended up in an awkward coughing as he blushed from his neck to the tips of his ears and the fact that Dariax hurriedly came to his help didn't help his situation. At all.

Two glasses of wine later that embarrassing accident, glasses that Dorian gulped down like a drowning man in the desert, eventually they split up because Dariax decided it was the right time to go and grab some stronger alcohol that wasn't just wine; in the meantime, Dorian found interest in the instruments the band was playing. Despite his eagerness, the dwarf didn't leave him until Dorian assured him he was feeling better so he could go without worrying about him.

When Dorian noticed that it was taking the dwarf a little too long to get their drinks, he searched for him with his eyes, just to find him standing between two individuals, who possibly were courting him if he didn't mistaken the way they both leaned close to him, offering him drinks as they smiled flirty down at him.

He felt a strange pang of.. jealousy awfully twisting his guts as his jaw tensed at that sight.

"Are you going to ask him or not?" Opal's face suddenly appeared in front of his eyes.

Blanking out for a solid second, Dorian almost choked on his own tongue. "W-what?!" he cried in a shrill voice and immediately slapped a hand on his mouth.

The girl sighed deeply as she slowly shook her head in disappointment.

"To dance." Fearne replied from his other side on Opal's behalf and Dorian felt suddenly very cornered. "I bet he's dying to. Waiting for you to make a move. Can't you tell?" she tipped her head in a quizzical way as she eyed him.

The genasi's gaze frantically darted back and forth between the two. "I-I don't think that-" he then started babbling out, anxiety coming back at full force, but Opal cut him short with a huffy tsch.

"Please, you two have been circling around this for months, honestly. Now it's your chance to go get it." the girl pointed out as she nudged him with her hip and Dorian's heart started hammering erratically against his ribcage. What were they talking about just now?!

"Get what?!" he croaked out in a squeal and the faun's laugh only made him more miserable than he already felt.

Opal loudly gasped at that question as if she couldn't believe what she just heard. "Dorian, how oblivious can you be?!" she looked like she was that close to rip her own hair off her head for desperation or to choke him with her bare hands in an act of mercy and the genasi thought that he really didn't want to find out.

Thankfully, Fearne intervened once again. As she grabbed Opal's hand to soothe her outburst of anger, she smiled her benevolent smile at Dorian. "Dariax's been over the heels for you for like.. well, pretty much since we met I think?" she confessed in a pensive frown, then had to stifle an amused giggle when Dorian's mouth slacked open.

His head was spinning dizzily as his heart jumped up in his throat, his hands were shaking as he brought one of them to scratch at his neck in a foolish attempt to calm his nerves. He was pretty much freaking out at that point, he'd never actually noticed anything that-

Wait.

Oh gods.

"I'm a fucking idiot!" he yelled as he smacked both his hands on his forehead, and the two girls tried to not make fun of him, just to fail miserably.

"Now that you're caught up, do yourself a favor and <i>go</i>." and with Opal's words ringing in his ears, he was being pushed by Fearne and the girl herself toward the dwarf, still at the same table.

And suddenly, he was in the middle of the dance hall, his knees wobbling as his heart was trying so desperately to break free from his chest. He wanted to hide. He felt.. irremediably stupid. How could he be so blind?!

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. In retrospect, above all the things that had happened between them in the past months, Dorian realized that the dwarf had been looking at him the whole night with such a look in his eyes, something deeper concealed behind his usual fondness that he reserved for his friends.

He was getting itchy. If he wanted to act, he needed to do it now.

Mustering every ounce of courage he had in his body, the genasi walked the last steps that separated him from Dariax at last.

He cleared his throat way too loudly to be spontaneous, interrupting whatever was happening between the dwarf and those two strangers. He didn't even spare them a single glance as he stared at Dariax, who was visibly surprised by his antics.

Dorian straightened up, before bowing a little with his upper body, his left arm folded behind, as he outstretched his other, unsteady hand towards him.

"Dariax, m-may I have this dance?" the genasi asked in a solemn voice that cracked a little at the end, feeling heat rising up on his cheeks the longer he hoped for an answer. He gulped as a bead of sweat glided down his temple, his heart beating so fast right now that Dorian felt like it could stop at any moment.

And Dariax was looking at him like he held the entire world in his hands and the genasi felt himself burn from the inside out under that intensity, his hazel hues gone wide and round in complete shock, his thick eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

There was a moment of terrible, utter silence. Then, the dwarf let go of his drink, which fell and spilled on the floor, and that noise made a few heads turn in their direction while the two individuals jumped back from him. But Dorian couldn't care less as Dariax's trembling hand clutched tight around his as a happy, dazzling smile bloomed on his lips.

"Of course." he replied in a whisper, hesitant yet fast, like he'd been waiting for that question all night but couldn't believe he just got asked.

Fingers intertwined, they sauntered over the center of the dance hall to stand in front of each other like the rest of the people didn't exist.

Dorian's yearning turned out to be pretty much useless since Dariax shared his feelings and he could plainly see it now, written all over the dwarf's face as he hadn't stopped beaming up at him since he accepted his invite.

The genasi had never danced with someone that much shorter than him, or had much experience with balls in general, but they would've managed nonetheless.

They were holding hands, both their arms stretched outward in the liminal space between them as they looked into each other's eyes, full of emotions. Dorian thought he was going to faint here and there from how tense he felt, he was anxious for a totally different reason now.

Then, their feet started moving on their own and the music grew louder and louder, their bodies following the rhythm as they met halfway, their hands locking in the right positions as much as their heights would allow.

"I didn't know you could dance." Dorian said, genuinely delighted by that discovery, as they turned and spinned, completely lost in the music, in each other.

Dariax chuckled, his cheeks flushing again upon that compliment and the genasi had to stop himself from acting on the thoughts that image elicited in his mind. "Me neither." the dwarf admitted as he shrugged his shoulders.

Dorian snorted amusedly, before tightening his grasp on Dariax.

They kept waltzing, staring at each other, smiling brightly, moving freely. They kept waltzing, fingertips brushing on clothes, hands grasping, wanting for more. They kept waltzing, their looks promising.

And Dorian never felt so happy in his life.