#and it's just the inner brain snakes making me second guess it when it's my guy

[viric-dreams]

Why is Lieutenant Roberts a lieutenant despite being possibly the second-most senior officer on Grand Geode? He's never permanently commanded a ship. At some point he simply slid into his role as the Commodore's fixer, at first unofficially, but even after it became his full time role his previous title never quite seemed to vanish. He still positions his identity in relation to the Commodore anyway, so lieutenant he stays. What does this mean for his uniform? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[semischarmed]

The Visit

I glance at my phone. 30 minutes. 30 minutes in this chair waiting for the doctor. 30 minutes in a freezing cold examination room wearing nothing but the disposable gown the nurse told me to wear. Now, I’m normally quite patient, but I begin to worry that they may have simply forgotten about me. I sit up straight, ready to leave the chair and ask for the nurse, when my new doctor comes into the room in a rush.

“Hey, Hey! Sorry, sorry. My last patient meeting went a bit over. That alright?“ He grins and verdant eyes sparkle. The man was dreamy. I could say nothing beyond nodding in agreement. 

“Great! Glad to hear it” he beams. I feel an explosion of warmth within my chest and stomach and can’t help but smile back. 

”Thank you so much for understanding. I’m Doctor Ryan! Good to meet you.” I readily shake his hand. Firm. Sturdy. Calloused.  

“Okay great, so we’re just gonna run through your vitals, and… says here you noticed an odd mark show up near your penis?” I flush bright red in embarrassment at the mention. Unperturbed, he continues without skipping a beat “Hmmm.. we’ll definitely want to get that checked. Probably harmless, but could be something bad…  I know the nurse probably covered most of these questions and took your vitals, but [he smirks] just wanna sure we get everything checked correctly, alright?” Damn it. Doctors always have a such way with words, I can’t help but melt in their arms. I feel a numb happy sensation wash over me and again nod in agreement. He was cute, too cute. God. Of course, whatever he thought this appointment was, he was completely off. Most likely picked up the wrong sheet or something, cause I only came for some immunizations. 

Still, the man has me spellbound. I comply with his every whim as he continues running through his normal questioning. In every word, he further puts my will to sleep, with every phrase he draws me closer. To me, his every sentence has progressively slowed the world around us. Not that I’m complaining. I am adrift, motionless in his pool of questioning, sandwiched between warm ocean and sunlight. For a short few moments, I am at peace. I was practically sleeping by the time the second round of questions finished. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and break my spell slightly and I focus in on his beautiful face. “You okay there, bud?” More nods his way.

“Awesome. Let’s get started then.”

———

The physical was.. something else. We start with just an examination of my body. Pale, scholarly eyes remark on my every blemish, my every curve. It would be a nightmare in any other scenario, but in the secure glance of my doctor, I knew I was safe. Still, near his radiant heat, I could not help but get just a bit flustered. My answers are short, odd, my heart rate jumping to his vicinity.

He wiggles his stethoscope in the air. “We’re just gonna get your heart rate okay?” My mouth is hanging open and drooling slightly, but I nod. Really, it’s all I can do. Stunned to obedience. He just spoke so confidently, so assured in his examination. His tone was out of this world. It’s bright but resonant, like each word reverberated his command in my chest. His voice was no less potent. Sound-waves embrace the air with sweet honey, but an undertone of audible trust. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything else, still caught in this man’s spell. Now, a handsome man gets me feeling the same way a doctor often does. But he was both. I can manage nothing beyond a smile and continue nodding “okay.” 

I moan at the touch of the stethoscope. It was ice. Penetrative, cold ice, but in his expert hands, it felt like gift from the man. I imagine the metal is a piece of him, precious metal, precious silver embedding itself in me. I want it in me forever- uh, the man, not the stethoscope. 

He grunts. Fuck. “Sorry” I say sheepishly. That moan was definitely audible then. Further embarrassment floods me, only tempered by by the tingling sense of relaxation I felt in being examined by this man. He takes the odd outburst in stride, giving a half smile before continuing. “Believe it or not, you’re not the first”. The man was a professional through and through.

---

In the middle of making sure my reflexes were still functioning, his face winces, and his upper lip trembles, immediately breaking my illusion. He lets out a quick gasp “Ah.. I.. aahhh” barely audibly. I watch as his knuckles grasp the sides of the cushion in my chair desperately, going white in the process. For the first time in our entire session, the haze cast by this man’s being is broken entirely. I feel the dullness in my mind clear as I take note of the oddness from what had just transpired. His mouth goes wide and his face scrunches up into an emotion that I can’t quite place between pain and pleasure. Maybe both? In any case, before I can even investigate further, it relaxes immediately. Emotionless. 

Then, his eyes twitch before going glassy. Doctor Ryan looked like he was about to throw up. Pleading eyes stare into my soul, but the rest of his face remains blank. I am shocked beyond shocked at this point to do anything beyond stare in disbelief while a shit-eating grin slowly paints his face. His eyes blink back to lucidity- now focused on me, and single tear pools on the corner of his left eye and drips down his cheek. He stops it with his thumb before it can drop further, before nonchalantly wrapping plump lips around it. In a slight suction noise, when he pulls the thumb out his mouth in what looks to be a deliberately seductive manner, staring intently at my face the entire time. What the fuck. 

Immediately, he returns to examining me, making no mention of what had just occurred. This time though, his movements seem just a bit erratic, a bit unrefined. I also catch brief glimpses of that same cringing face every time he moves to the next step in his examination, like he was pulling long-forgotten memories from what should be a fairly standard procedure. He repeats the physical, this time going over my every part much more slowly. Any touch, any connection we had seemed to linger just a bit longer than needed. He almost seemed... Interested? Nervous? Whatever case, with every movement, and every step, his hands get a bit steadier, actions more confident. Whatever just happened to him seemed to be over. I am intrigued, if a bit scared. He was acting suspicious. Too many things seemed to line up for me to dismiss this as just normal checkup. In lustful wishes, I invoke whatever I can, hoping I’m correct. I try to sneak a peak at the outline of his admittedly large penis in his scrubs. Absolutely Flaccid. Odd. Disappointing, to say the least. Whatever this weird, hot doctor was doing, he wasn’t getting off on it.

When he gets to my lower body, he abruptly splits my knees open, spreading my legs wide. Another moan almost escapes me. Thankfully a veil of disposable fabric separates my doctor from my now semi-erect penis. Unthankfully, I can’t help but tent the gown full mast when his ice cold hands begin to trace and snake slowly around my inner thigh. I look at him in shock and he just beams back at me like the past few minutes had not just happened. “Hmmm… great legs…” My face goes crimson and I scream internally at my own inability to control my own body. “Okay, your -hNnggg-ah cha-chart, yes. Apologies for the outburst… your chart seemed to mention some concerns about your penis? Let’s take a closer look” He states, looking up at me with a half-smile. 

“No- er, I think- ah, you got the wrong-” I can barely stammer out a response in the raw stimulation of Doctor Ryan grabbing and gently examining my cock and balls. Pleasure bloomed wherever his fingers glided over. This was a mental battle I could not win. Mind versus body. I was fighting myself, my own urges. He makes gentle cupping motions around my balls, back and forth. I look at him in bewilderment. There was no way this was just for a normal examination. He smiles pleasantly, “just checking for anything out of place… so far, so good”. Mystery solved, I guess. He slowly wraps thick fingers, encircling my cock in an embrace. Not solved. Not solved. I am rock hard. He gives a short chuckle. “Well, at the very least, your nerves appear to be working…. Blood flow looks good as well…Nothing out of the ordinary so far”. I am beet red at this point. Fuck me. I can’t even compose myself in front of this man. 

Then, Doctor Ryan gives it a tug. FUCK. 

“Holy shiiiiiit” I moan out. I turn my head away as my body quivers and gives in to a moment of divine pleasure. Betrayed by my own senses. A second, higher pitched moan escapes my now open throat, barely audible, while the a tiny bit of clear fluid spills onto the doctor’s unflinching hand. I can’t bear to look this guy in the eye. I need a new fucking doctor.

“You know, this is completely natural. Absolutely a normal human body response. Don’t worry about it” he says absentmindedly as he continues. “If anything, at least we know you can still produce, so it doesn’t look like there’s anything to worry about”. He mumbles happily. Outside my sightline, I swear I hear a licking, slurping noise. His hand, looked a bit wetter than before too.That being said, my brain has shut down from humiliation. At this point all I can manage is a blank nod. 

“Well, good news- you’re perfectly hea- Oh! Actually, do you mind?” He begins to unbutton his coat and then proceeds set it on the table beside me.  “You know it’s always a bit hot and stuffy in these rooms”. My eyes can’t help but visually eat at the feast before me. Bare chest and stray hairs poke out from his scrubs. The sleeves are taut around his massive biceps. Despite the objectively unflattering material, it can’t help but conform slightly to his muscular physique. It was pretty clear before, but it was definitely fact now. My doctor was hot as fuck. Something about his last question eats away at my my brain. It wasn’t hot at all. The room is cold, dry, sterile. Hell, this whole hospital is. It’s like he has me back in a trance though. Words smooth as silk, body like sculpture. He had a power over me, so I nod in compliance without even acknowledging how absurd the previous statement was.

“So, as I was saying... the good news is your vitals are all in line.” He laughs kindly, patting my stomach “Maybe eat a bit more protein every now and then”. The voice is warm and reassuring. My brain relaxes to the end in sight to this half dream-half nightmare. I start to get up to get changed before I realize the entire reason for the visit.

“Hey-er, wait! My Immunizations! I needed to get some immunizations done for my-“ 

“Oh?” He cuts me off, eyebrows raised. Intrigue paints his face.  

Then he leans in close, head right up to my ear until the parts of chest peaking from the hospital gown touches the stray hairs poking out from his scrubs. Until we share warmth in that cold examination room. He breathes alongside me in rhythm as he exhales.

“You…don’t need any immunizations. I do… well, I did, anyway. It’s too late for him now...But we do have something planned, for you-we’re gonna try an experimental processss. A brand new… test…just for you...” He whispers. He pauses as he continues to breathe and I feel the hot, damp air emanating from his mouth coat my ear. “We need to test you for... stimulation.” Dear God. That last word he draws out in a far, far different tone than before. It neither clinical nor polite, and it hit like a brick. There was raw emotion in that last word. Raw lust. He cups the other side of my face pulling my left cheek to touch his. Like his chest, it’s quite warm. I’m flush with redness and confusion. I gulp nervously.

His tone returns in its warmth and politeness, contrasted by the intimate position we are in. “Hmmmmm salivating...mmmm... Quite a bit actually. You’re either haven’t eaten… or… you’re hungry for something.” I can’t manage out anything coherent amidst the sensory overload. He continues confidently, “C’mon... I’m your primary care physician? Let me take care of it. Let me take care of you...” He sticks his hand down his own pants, scratching to readjust. With our chests together, I am brought to our present moment. A moment in paradise. When he ebbs, I flow. Like a dance, my chest caves in with every exhale as his puffs out. He does in turn. We were partners. His scent pours out unconfined, unfiltered by distance, concentrated in our proximity. Like rainfall and crushed grass. I could live in it. With our cheeks pressed together, I feel his every movement. Every word spoken drawn in by my inhale. These would be mine to keep. This moment was ours and ours alone. He brings up the same hand, now a bit slimier to take a whiff before shoving that sweaty, funky smelling hand right to my face. I can’t control myself and start inhaling my hot doctor. I lick the man’s hand clean. Delicious.

I continue lapping it up in silence before he finally breaks it to speak. “Mhmmmmm... that’s the stuff... Maybe if we feed you enough of this hot doctor’s cum, you’d pick up on some of his residual intelligence and figure who’s really running this man.” My eyes light up, and the pieces finally all click together in my head. I chuckle. 

“Good to see you too, Ben.”

———

“Leave it to humans to take something so beautifully sensual and twist it. He’s a bit too good at compartmentalizing. In many respects… It’s fucking hot. But, you know, when he’s in this work mode, he sees you as nothing more than sack of meat. We’re not getting anywhere with him without a little push”. Without warning, Ben pulls the doctor’s pants down and fiddles with his new dick- still flaccid. Jesus Christ it’s huge. 

“Look, even this... appendage. Yes that’s an atypical response. I mean look at me, look at this new body we acquired. I’m swimming in this human’s hormones.” He wraps his hand around and begins pumping it. “But see here, it’s still all clinical in this head. I can only get inside him so far. We need something to end this human’s resistance. We need something extra to break him out of this trance. We need raw emotion.”

Just then, the door comes wide open. It’s Austin.

As he closes the door behind him, I see his face more clearly. It’s Austin’s body, but its pilot is undeniably Ben. Austin had a certain swagger to him that my little alien buddy just can’t quite replicate.

Ryan’s mouth opens wide and I watch as his true form exits from my doctor’s mouth and shoot strait into Austin’s welcoming nose. I watch as the doctor goes lucid. His eyes go wide and he stares at me in horror before attempting to escape. Before he can, he is pinned to the ground by the far larger Austin. “Cmon man, smell this fucking body. Feel something”

“If you can’t… we’ll do it for you. We’re going for a wild ride.. relax and enjoy it.” Austin’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and I watch as he gives a crazed grin, jaws open unnaturally wide. His tongue sticks out, his head is bright red, and pulsing silver courses through now-prominent veins. Damn. My Doctor looks at me with one last pleading glance, but all I can do is moan “I want you mine.” 

Doctor Ryan lets out an involuntary scream when he notices the changes in Austin’s face, which only work to his disadvantage as a pulsating, semi-solid mass of silver falls into his open maw. Austin sticks their mouths together. Using his tongue, he maintains a steady passageway for Ben. Using his lips, Austin keeps the doctor’s pried open to forcibly receive the precious silver. Their heads bob back and forth as more and more of the slimy mass falls into doctor. I watch as a massive lumps outline themselves in his throat, then his chest, before disappearing into the depths of his body. I notice a little bit pool and spill out the corner of his mouth. When the process is over, Austin’s body falls limply to the side. I stare at the messy pile of silver goo still smeared over Ryan’s drooling mouth. Should I?

I lean over, giving my dream man a kiss. My eyes flutter at the prospect. Ugh, he’s perfect. I feel the every contour of the face of man who would soon be ours, before sucking up the excess silver an a bit of his drool in my mouth. No use putting this stuff to waste. 

In a flash, I feel ecstasy. “Jesus fucking christ” I moan, as I feel a burst of energy from within. The parts of silver which were Ben settle into me, surging me with power and I feel his thoughts reverberate in my mind. In that split second, I also feel the vertigo of looking from two bodies at once. I feel the immense pleasure of controlling two bodies at once and the parts of silver which were Austin become immediately apparent. Goddamn what a fucking power trip. Austin was mine. A quick rush of stolen confidence from my previous tormentor floods my insides and I welcome my updated sense of self. Fuck yeah. Took a part of him for me. He’s never getting this back. I stare at his body and will it up. My dominion, now. While his head still hung unconscious, I move my fingers and tingle in delight as I watch his hands follow. The moment is fleeting though, and I feel the disappointment as my vision recedes back to my singular one.”Hope you liked that” I feel Ben state in my head. “Just a taste. This piece of us you’ve ingested... I think it’s best you keep it. I find this setup beneficial to us both. We can keep in constant contact this way. You might find some residual power left over Austin too, thought probably not in the way you think… at least… not yet.“ 

Before I can question him in my head, the doctor’s body shivers awake and then spasms before letting out a primal scream. Ryan’s looked... bigger? Almost swollen. His body occupied the same space they did before, but there was a larger presence to him. His muscles pump up, obviously riled into a frenzy. “Just a little attitude adjustment, and...Goddamn easy mode, Fuck!” He faces me. His eyes are rolled to the back of his head and silvery veins pulse all over his body. Seconds later, he settles and his eyes return to focus me. “Fuck yeah, you wanted this doctor, right? Bro, you know my bod’s way better. Fuck it though, I don’t care  as I’m a part of the ride. Remember your fucking promise.” He states through gritted teeth. Unnatural coming out of the normally Angelic Doctor Ryan. 

“Your Doc’s too nice though, right? You… Ben… you deserve better. I’ll make us better for you. Look how much fucking bigger, how much more of a fucking man we are with some Austin mixed in....” I am speechless, but he’s right. The doctor now exuded a dominating presence. In any other circumstance, I’d be frightened and compliant. In the presence of Ben, I felt safe.

“Thank Ben he brought us inside this man. Mmmmmm his brain is delicious… I feel so much smarter inside him. We’re gonna fuck him up. Make him better, like you did to me. Twist his head. Make him want your cum almost as much as I do. Make him want to spread more Ben around…. Mmmm speaking of, I feel him inside me. He’s squirming into us both out and goddamn it feels good.” Ryan’s body moans Austin’s moan. “I can’t wait for you to learn how to do this... to put yourself inside me-Please! Fuck! Learn it faster! That... part of me you stole… I feel good as part of you, right? You like it in you, right? Pure fucking jock. Take good care of it…more where that came from”. It was definitely my doctor, but between the behavior and facial expressions, undeniably Austin. Well, post-Ben Austin.

“I-Arrgh” I watch curiously as the doctor’s body shivers. “Ben’s... ready for you.” He winks as his eyes briefly roll to their sockets and roll back. Austin-er Ryan’s demeanor immediately changed ”Had to do a little arranging inside this doctor. We just need one final piece. Ryan’s body ready to receive its new masters. I need you to put as much cum inside this man as you can... I really like this one, his position is useful. But his mind... it’s so vast. He’s no Austin...It’s gonna take a lot more of our genetic material to tame it.”

Austin-er Ben does pushups on the floor. He clears a few hundred before wiping his sweat all over his scrubs. Of course, despite channeling Austin’s very essence, this body is not nearly as buff or as muscular as his so I watch as Ryan is forced to push up and down beyond his limits, tears streaming down his eyes, hands and legs shaking in protest, forced smiling all the while. Previously crisp scrub are now stained, damp in Ben’s body’s perspiration. The smell this weird, hybrid mix emanated was unique. Of course, it still had the cleanliness I’d expect from a doctor. Fresh cologne and nature- exactly what I’d expect from the healthy, professional man which had previous examined me. This man before me was not the same man as before. Because, interwoven was the musk, the testosterone, the pungent stink of our deranged puppet Austin. It was altogether divine. 

“Look at this.” He states with a sneer as he does a bicep flex. His damp scrubs hug his muscle tightly, almost breaking at the seams. The bicep is throbbing. “I feel this body crying in pain and exhaustion. From his mind though... do you know how muscles are made? Tiny tears regrown stronger” A pulse of silver darts through his veins, immediately returning it to stillness. “What wonderful new information. We’re gonna use that. Fill into these layers with a bit of Ben, and a bit of you”. He starts laughing now “Doc Ryan here doesn’t call the shots…This isn’t his body anymore… It’s ours.” 

With that, Ben lifts my gown and sticks his drenched head near my already-hard cock. Fuck he’s warm. Our sweat and scents mingle and I feel my inner thighs go moist in the perspiration in the air. 

“Austin, to the forefront. Combined effort. We need him body and mind. Let us create a new Ryan,” he states. My doctor slowly wrap his thick, plump lips over my dick. Moment’s later, the man’s wet tongue slides forward. I shudder. A bit tickles in a spot just below the head and I squirm on the spot. Jesus fuck, oh- oh fuck, he’s good- he’s really good.

My shaking hands are sloppily held in place. I move them reflexively in the onslaught of pleasure. It’s like Ryan’s body was made for this. Absolute Heaven. I let out a loud moan as I continue to squirm in the confines of my position. Ben had commandeered some control of Austin’s unconscious body, and it stood there, just over me, holding my hands in place and body. Its eyes were rolled back, mouth drooling. Bits of spit dribbled to my forehead. I paid them no mind. Basically an extension of my own bodily fluids at this point anyway. Besides, whatever made Austin, Austin was mostly inside Ryan now, helping Ben add a wonderful new addition to our collection. 

Ryan’s sensual motions, His body expertly bobbing, beckons mine. Erotic symphony. I can do nothing beyond quake in my seat. I hold for as long as I can but it’s too much. This was it. First, I moan. Then, I scream. FUCK. Goddamn bliss. Sweet Release. Pure Ecstasy. I am reduced to babbling internally as I release more and more of myself inside Ryan’s welcoming mouth. Using his powerful chest, he creates a slight suction, greedily taking as much of my cum inside as he can. The body begins to choke for air, but I feel Austin and Ben smile instead and continue inhaling my cum. Their eyes only relayed one word. More. There’s not much else I could have done anyway, because I continue to spew load after load inside the man. It’s the best I ever felt, the longest it’s ever been and the most I ever given. I sit in extended euphoria, paralyzed in bliss. Logic aside, ethics aside, this was my new order. Our new order. In my mind I strive to continue on, to bring more to this light. So many delicious fucking bodies in this town. So many new ‘me’s destined, yearning for my control- even if they didn’t know it yet. That last bit might have been some of Austin’s megalomania in me.   

The phone rings at Ryan’s side and he picks it up. Someone patches in a call. 

“Doctor are you alright? We heard some odd noises“. I watch Ben in alarm. He cracks his head to the side, cock still in his mouth, and veins coursing in silver fluid display prominently in his temples. He switches demeanor almost seamlessly back. In contrast, like strings cut, Austin’s body falls over me, unmoving. I didn’t mind. I inhale his jock essence as I listen in.

“Yewph- Iw- Ehem.. I’m quiw ahwigh, *gulp*… ahhh yeah.. Apologies, Nancy this appointment is taking just a bit longer than expected. I’ll be ready soon- just need a little more time with this one.” Every word again resounds warmly, calmly, politely in this man. When Ben channels Ryan, it’s like I’m hearing the same person who examined me earlier. He was ours. I glance his way and a bit of my cum is still on his lips as he continues his conversation. He happily draws it to his mouth with a finger and sucks it clean. My cock is drenched in the doctors sweat. Fucking hot. Ben found us a real catch. “Dr. Ben” ends the call and mentally, he’s back to our present situation, back to huffing in breathless pleasure, as he continues sucking the any residual mess in me clean. He gives me a wink as he finishes. 

Ryan then stands over to Austin, and, in a reverse of the process from earlier vomits out the same silvery mass, now slick with streaks of white, back into its container. There was significantly less this time. From the still open mouth of Ryan, I watch the tiny man emerge, giving me a motion that indicated he was smiling. “I’m staying in this one a bit longer. Driving this particular specimen gives me a pleasure not wholly physical.” The mouth slowly closes and Ryan’s eyes show life again. He smiles. I look expectantly at the two of them. They begin making out. The sounds are sloppy and I can’t help but get a bit jealous. Taking note, they both stop abruptly before giving me a wink. The both speak at once while Ryan begins stripping stark naked.

“Can’t help it...You should come and stay in this room for a while. My next patient’s got quite a body we can utilize, based on this man’s memory. You still got some cum left in you? I can’t expand further without it” I nod happily. If Ben thinks he’s cute, we had to at least try. What am I saying? I can produce like a motherfucker, took part of my bully inside, made it mine. I may not look it yet, but I was alpha now.  

“Austin, strip down, I need some new clothes, and yours are a better fit.” Austin’s face cringes and I watch as his normal personality returns. Normal was a stretch, because he was far more subservient now than he was before this all began. Ben then looks at me with a toothy smile as he walks over to my pile of neatly folded clothes and digs out my underwear. He nonchalantly strips stark naked and then proceeds to put on my underwear. “This is a tight- Hmph!” He struggles to get each thick leg through “-ah, your clothes...Mmm! So tiny”. This results in my hot, nearly naked doctor wearing my underwear tightly. It’s pulled to its seams as it’s forced to constrict and hold together the doctor’s massive package. I watch as his cock begins to get hard, only to be restricted by the fabric. He moans at the setup. “Ayyyyeeee fuck! Fuck yeah. It feels like you’re in here, squeezing this host’s cock and ass. I’m gonna make sure he wears this forever. I’m gonna make sure this imprints our scent into this man. Look at me. Look at this muscle. Ryan..mmmmm.... all the brains and brawn in the world couldn’t help you. Every time he gets hard on, I want him to be wearing this. I want his penis to scrape this, to be bound by it, forever a reminder of who the real Ryan is now.”

Ben’s new doctor personality switches back. He politely gestures to his pile of clothes, still freshly warm before looking at me. “If you’re gonna be my assistant, you’ll need to look the part,” he states with a kind smile. I eye the warm pile, almost steaming in the residual heat. Ryan’s body licks its lips. Ben again. “Wear it. This man is ours, forever. Take ownership of that. Of those clothes. There’s so much of your genetic material embedded inside this particular specimen, at this point these are your own as much as it is his.”

I rush over to put the scrubs on, to feel the residual heat in my doctor Ryan envelop me. I relish in it. Still warm and moist with his sweat. It was like I was wearing the man myself. Of course, it fits loosely over me, and I barely pass as an assistant. He leans over to me. “smell it” he whispers. “Smell yourself. I like you better this way”. He’s right. I smell so fucking alpha in this getup. Ben then begins putting on Austin’s clothes, which are a much better fit. 

In contrast, Austin is forced to wear the remainder my clothes, which he creepily sniffs first and ends up with it fitting way too tight and revealing on him. I gesture to offer the scrubs I just put on instead, but he immediately declines in a huff, “No... I’m fucking better this way. More... complete” He moans “This was the way I was meant to be... yours... wearing this makes me feel like you’re here inside me, wearing your own clothes. I belong like this...This is your body, it misses you, and he doesn’t feel whole until you’re back home.” He pats himself. “I can’t wait for you to become this. And I’m not fucking taking no for an answer either. One day, I’m putting you where you belong- inside me so we can never be separated again. Moving around feels empty when you’re not in here doing it for me”. What the fuck did Ben do? The guy, my previous bully was horny just being near me. It felt amazing.

I silently thank Ben. Whatever Austin was rambling on about turned me the fuck on. I smiled. That piece of Austin I ingested earlier- I think his shitty vocab’s been rubbing off on me. Regardless, Austin was right- wearing him, controlling him from the inside was where I belonged. I deserved it. Deserved him. “Wait for us at home- we won’t be long” Ben instructs Austin through Ryan in a fatherly tone. Austin complies, leaving the room, staring longingly at me until he no longer could. 

Ben puts on his coat. “Well then, that’s settled. I hope your cock is ready, human, we have a full schedule of bodies to possess.“

-End of “Ben Pt. 2″-

A smarter version of me would have split this into two parts. Also, preemptive apologies to anyone in a medical profession.

[somerpmemes]

The Owl House Starters

Change as needed

“No! My only weakness! Dying!”

“That doesn’t count, right?”

“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”

“Tiny trash thief!”

“Oops, that happens sometimes.”

“I’m a squirmy little fella.”

“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”

“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”

“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”

“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”

“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”

“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”

“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”

“I am not your cutie pie!”

“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”

“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”

“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”

“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”

“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”

“This has been a rough day.”

“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”

“Today just got good.”

“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”

“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”

“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”

“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”

“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“All your food was so tiny and cute.”

“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”

“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”

“I didn’t have to be part of this!”

“I… don’t like this.”

“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”

“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”

“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”

“Alright, into the darkness you go.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”

“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”

“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”

“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”

“Even demons have inner demons.”

“This is my paying attention face.”

“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”

“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”

“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”

“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”

“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”

“Oh no, a twist!”

“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”

“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”

“And look, I drew flip book.”

“I will literally do anything to stop this.”

“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”

“Alright, let’s see this mess.”

“That’s probably fine.”

“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”

“Welcome down to my level!”

“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”

“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”

“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”

“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”

“I was a strange child.”

“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”

“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”

“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”

“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”

“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”

“Ugh, you.”

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

“Whoa, I almost passed out.”

“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”

“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”

“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”

“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”

“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”

“This never happened.”

“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”

“That’s the incorrect reaction!”

“I smell an easy mark.”

“Well, I hate her.”

“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”

“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”

“I’m so old… and pointy.”

“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”

“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”

“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”

“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”

“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”

“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”

“Hey, take this, society!”

“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”

“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”

“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”

“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”

“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”

“Show, don’t tell, man.”

“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”

“That seems like a potential problem to me.”

“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”

“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”

“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”

“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”

“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”

“Like I’d actually apologize.”

“I want power, and I want drama.”

“Are you ready to give up?”

“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”

“I just wish you told me the truth.”

“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”

“Impressive, still alive.”

“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”

“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”

“No one wants to see that.”

“Since when are you into sports?”

“Gross, sympathy.”

“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”

“Oh, this is an interesting development.”

“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”

“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”

“Trust must be earned.”

“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”

“Your pride has destroyed you.”

“So tiny, so angry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”

“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”

“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”

“Partake of my free snack samples!”

“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”

“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”

“I know my good angle.”

“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’

“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”

“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”

“Ooh, I love punching.”

“You’re ominous, and I like it.”

“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”

“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”

“Fame can really box you in, you know?”

“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”

“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”

“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”

“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”

“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”

“Ahh, fresh garbage.”

“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”

“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”

“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”

“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”

“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”

“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”

“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”

“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”

“Get back here before that thing bites you!”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”

“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”

“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”

“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”

“Time to scrounge through the trash.”

“I ain’t no desk jockey.”

“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”

“I love secret rooms!”

“You have an aura of lies.”

“Also, you can eat trash.”

“Do the right thing, you dingus!”

“It just goes on like this for an hour.”

“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”

“We’ve got scams to run.”

“I know poison when I see it.”

“You can’t scam a scammer.”

“You should really put a lock on your closet.”

“I love crimes!”

“Now this is my kind of weird.”

“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”

“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”

“This mama is ready for trauma.”

“All right. Approval!”

“Curse these stubby legs!”

“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”

“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”

“Aww, what a supportive sign.”

“Yep, I just counted to one million.”

“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”

“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”

“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”

“I think today is a talons day.”

“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”

“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”

“Be careful with my brain.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”

“I can’t believe I made him cry.”

“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”

“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”

“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”

“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”

“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”

“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”

“Hey, I found something magical.”

“I’ma put my face in it.”

“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”

“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”

“Eww, I mean, aww.”

“I really messed things up.”

“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”

“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”

“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”

“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”

“Oh, right, I put people in there.”

“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”

“I regret teaching you about the internet.”

“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”

“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”

“Always trust a shoulder demon.”

“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”

“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”

“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”

“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”

“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”

“Girl, you could pull off anything.”

“We’re style geniuses!”

“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”

“Dang, I look great.”

“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”

“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”

“Why so twitchy, witchy?”

“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”

“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”

“You’ve done things I could never do.”

“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”

“I am a little weirdo.”

“You gotta pander.”

“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”

“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”

“I’ve been talking for too long.”

“Feeling sentimental?”

“I love water.”

“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”

“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”

“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”

“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”

“You just destroyed your social life.”

“That’s such a stupid rule!”

“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”

“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”

“Jeez, you’re morbid.”

“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”

“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”

“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”

“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”

“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”

“And  ___, thank you, for being in my life.”

“I want her back as much as you do.”

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”

“Ah farts, I got caught.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”

“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”

“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”

“I may have lost but so have you.”

“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”

[savagenutella46]

Standing Here With You

A valentine’s day gift for @thecaptainhelm lm. (By the way, I love you so much and you’re amazing) I hope YOU have an awesome eventful day filled with lots of love because you’re such an amazing writer and I love you!!!!!!

Also, @eat0crow , who is moderating the gift exchange! Thank you for all you’ve done!

Everyone has a soulmate. 

It's not a notable deal. Though it's something many people cherish and look forward to, it's just as much an ordinary fact as primary color mixing: that's just how the world works.

Blue and yellow mix correspond with each other to produce green; soulmate A and soulmate B each have tattoos to correspond with one another, completing either tattoo on the skin of their other half.

Marinette will be damned if she finds anyone to match her tattoo. She'd loved it as a child, sitting through boring classes with a pout and jittery knees so she could rush home and admire the strange tattoo that covered the length of her inner forearm.

But now, she couldn't find a single thing to be more ashamed about. 

Even as she moves halfway across the world from taunting bullies and mind-controlling sociopaths, the damage is done. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng does not want a soulmate.

She does not want to disappoint, to never live up to her soulmates expectations, because, "Your soulmate wouldn't like those pigtails, Marinette." and, "How could someone want a bully like you?"

Marinette does not want to relive her lycée experience, covering her mark every chance she could get so that Lila Rossi wouldn't antagonize whoever was on the other end of her soul line.

She’d watch as other people’s—normal—soul marks started to glow, indicating the one thing soulmarks are responsible for. Marinette witnessed on the sidelines as everyone she knew and had learned to love and lose found their other half, and left her in the dark. Watching, seeing, but never to experience what it was like. To find your soulmate.

Her mark. A white rose hanging upside down at the epiphysis of her radius, petals spread wide against each other, some looked as though they were flowing freely in the air, and some looked as though they were stuck to one another.

A deep red liquid spurting out of the center, running down the limp rose and glazing its petals as it oozes from the center bottom and down the sides of her arm, creating for a unique, yet concerning mosaic upon her forearm.

"Is that blood?" They'd asked, some looking curious, and some looking downright disgusted at the mere sight of her mark. Something that was supposed to be naturally celebrated, not hated and sneered upon. They were convinced she'd be a menace to her soulmate, like soulmates were anything other than fate.

Marinette did not know if it was blood, obviously. There was no superior entity whispering to her at night, informing her of every single petal's weight in grams. Instead, it was easier to have a friend pick apart the dubious meaning of such a cryptic mark, unlike so many others, hers was not so simple.

Kagami, especially, had a great eye for these things. The meticulous thought that girl compartmentalizes for the sole topic is unbelievable at first glance. It's only when you see much more of her, do you understand why she even bothers with soulmarks.

"You wouldn't believe the meaning behind such marks, Marinette. It's only when you start to break the first barrier, do you know." Okay, so, Marinette had no such way with words as the world-class fencer, but she was pretty sure the girl was saying that marks represent people the way names represent their spices.

Salt, for example. You can just tell the flavor of salt by it’s damn name.

“You’re the epitome of innocence, Marinette,—“ Marinette begs to differ, she’s read fanfiction. “But it seems you’ve been hurt, aged more than what a white rose will represent for you. That’s where the blood paints over you, like a parasite.” Marinette furrows her eyebrows at Kagami, a reoccurring gesture that will give her wrinkles by the end of the year, she knows, but it’s Kagami.

They’re sitting in their apartment, high above the Gotham smog and litter they’ve learned to acquaint themselves with, and looking out over the city from their ratty second-hand couch.

—Because Marinette wants to live with someone who will break her finger and then call her stupid and put a cast on it for whatever reason, you feel?

Another twig, green leaves still growing out of it—though, probably not since the severance—blows by their window, spurred on by a lone gust and back down to the ground, plummeting to an unfortunately placed puddle on the pavement.

“Stop moping.” Marinette makes a face.

“I was not moping.”

“You were making that sad face you make when you see a puppy walking by itself on the street. You’re moping. Why?” Marinette huffs in annoyance, and turns to look at her friend, who’s already staring with an exasperated quirked eyebrow.

She flounders for words, making exuberant gestures with her hands as she tries not to look Kagami in the eye.

An audible exhale from the woman. “You’re worried about, what, your soulmate, for whatever reason?” 

Marinette looks down at her mark, it’s entrancing rose petals glowing brightly against her skin, almost alike to the glittery sheen of highlighter she so often brushes onto her cheekbones.

“It started glowing last night, Kagami.” Marinette worries her lip and continues to stare at the now pulsing, almost obnoxious glow of her rose, the red liquid that spurts from its center taking on a glamorous shine.

“That’s wonderful. Right?” Kagami adds, when she fails to find a response. 

It should be. She knows that. She should be joyous right now, jumping ecstatically and rejoicing at the fact that she might find her soulmate sooner than later, but the ever-impending doom of, ‘what if’ continuously pops up in her brain, muddling any chance of happiness she might’ve had.

Marinette’s psyche is aged. She’s been through things. A lot of things that most people haven’t been through. Deaths, loss of loved ones, reoccurring terrorist attacks, and so much more that puts a haunted look in her eye and a deep hunch in her shoulders. She couldn’t bear to see the look on her soulmate’s face.

Kagami seems to read her mind and makes a low noise in the back of her throat. “Let’s go to the zoo.” So spontaneous, it almost makes Marinette do a double take.

“You? Want to go to the zoo?” She stares at Kagami, the latter unwavering with a borderline determined look on her face that says, ‘Nope. No fighting me on this one.’

“Distraction.” Is all she says, and for once, Marinette agrees that, yes, maybe a distraction is in order.

The Gotham City Zoo proves to be a great distraction, in between the hippo exhibit and the jungle-themed building just for showcasing snakes, Marinette finds a rather warmth in her heart.

Marinette grins widely at the crocodiles lounging across various rocks, seemingly not a care in the world is thrown around in between her and the fenced crocodiles, and she harbors  a sort of piece standing alone. (Kagami had ditched her at the zebras for the lions.)

Distantly, she hears what sounds like two people fighting—or, bickering. 

“—over here, got bit by a crocodile.” An erupt of laughter from two different voices, one distinct with a low raspy laugh, and the other, who starts hacking nastily in the middle of it.

“Those cigarettes do not benefit you, Todd. This is not a laughable event.” A third voice juts in, and she has to turn her head, locate the source of whoever said that.

Three men, one looking younger than the other two, stand slightly to the right of her in front of the crocodile exhibit, the two older men seem to be laughing at the younger’s expense—how do you even get bitten by a crocodile? She decides to not judge. This is Gotham, after all.

And, oh.

The guy they seem to be laughing at has the brightest green eyes she’s ever seen. Ink black hair frames his face beautifully, as he sneers down at the other two. The stranger doesn’t seem to notice her stare, but it’s cut short anyway by the sudden immense throbbing of her forearm.

Marinette winces, and slowly pulls down her sleeve to see her soul mark is—

Finished. It’s glowing, glowing far more than it had been over the course of the past two days, glowing so much she can barely squint to see that buried deep in the middle of her rose, a pristine dagger.

Marinette’s eyes widen, and she can’t help but make an incoherent sound that fights its way up her throat.

A tap on her shoulder, and she turns around to see the boy she was shamelessly staring at is right in front of her, and, woah, he’s tall. Marinette cranes her head up to look at the boy who so quickly grabbed her attention.

He also has the prettiest blush on his face, his eyes darting in between her and his companions, who seem to be laughing even harder, and in the distance, she hears a crude nickname being thrown at him.

“Holy shit, Demon Brat actually has a soulmate—“ a sentence cut off by more wheezing laughter, so she turns her gaze back to the boy in front of her.

“I’m Damian, you’re...soulmate.” The last word comes out wonky, like he couldn’t believe his own words, but she understands. He’s staring at Marinette now, bright green gaze fixed so intently on her, and she can’t help but blush, herself.

“Marinette. I figured, actually, when my arm started to sting like a bitch.” She says, once her mouth finally aligns with her brain and she gets the courage to say something relevant to smart.

Damian cracks a small smile, and she finds herself following the gesture with her eyes. It’s a beautiful movement, one she can tell is foreign to him, a shame.

And she doesn’t feel jittery. More at peace, looking at the equally aged look deep in his eyes, and the mark right in the middle of her forearm, she can guess he’s been through a hell of a lot, maybe more than she has.

Marinette will spend a lifetime learning what lies behind his exterior, looking at him now.

She supposes this soulmate thing won’t be too hard, after all, even as the two men behind them keep bickering and laughing at their predicament in front of the crocodile exhibit.

[let-them-read-fics]

Saranghae

Requested by Anon: “Can i make a request for Blackpink RoséXFem!reader one shot/imagine where y/n always thought she was the one that said I love you first but she realizes rosé said it in korean when y/n was first learning it the first few months they were dating. like rosé says it and y/n is like wait what does that mean? and rosé teases her and doesn't say anything (holy crap this is long, sorry. i hope that makes sense. I asked someone else if they can write it but I dont think they're going to) thank you very much if you do🥺❤️”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 2,300

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: To the anon who requested this: Thank you! This is actually a really sweet ask, so hopefully I did it justice. I stuck with the gist of the prompt, but I added a little twist to it. I hope you enjoy; let me know what you think. Happy reading, everyone!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

~~~ Flashback: A Few Months Into Your Relationship ~~~

“Baby, come grab the door, please!” You request, your hands busy holding the two steaming cups of hot cocoa you prepared for Rosé and yourself. At the sound of your voice, she sets down the notebook that she had been writing in, and makes her way to you. She appears in the doorway with a wide smile, her face lighting up when she spots the drinks. 

“How’d you know I wanted some?” She takes her mug from you, being careful not to move too quickly and spill it, and lays a kiss on your cheek -- her way of thanking you.

With a nonchalant shrug, you make your way across the room, saying over your shoulder, “It’s my superpower, duh. We’re just in sync like that.” The giggle that leaves her lips makes your heart flutter, and you can’t help but smile back.

Now armed with your beverages, the two of you sit back down on the floor next to each other, getting prepared for your mini lesson. The fluffy material of the carpet comforts you, and you settle in.

~~~~~~~

Rosé repeats the phrase one more time, slowing it down for you, enunciating the words as clearly as she can. Your gaze is set on her lips, taking note of how they purse and pout with the different syllables. You try again, albeit incredibly slow and choppy, but eventually the words manage to come out intelligible. She celebrates the win, quickly standing and pulling you up along with her for a victory dance; after all, it was a pretty tricky phrase for someone just starting out. She knows how competent you are though, and she wanted to give you a challenge. 

As the two of you stand there, doing a little dorky jig together, she takes a second to think. She is totally smitten with you: these past few months have been some of the happiest times of her life, and she owes a lot of that to you. There’s no one she’d rather have by her side like this, staying up well into the night to teach Korean to. She loves that you’re eager to learn more, and she’s ecstatic to be the one that gets to help you on that journey. It really is a special thing to her, and she doesn’t take it for granted. Time spent with you is heaven, regardless of what the two of you are doing. 

Rosé is pulled from her thoughts by the quiet sound of you yawning. Her heart nearly melts at the sight of your face all scrunched up, paired with the little wiggle that you do. She pulls you in, smiling as you nuzzle your face into her neck sleepily. “Rosé, I’d love to keep practicing, but I’m about to pass out.” Her hand comes up to run through your hair, the other one wrapped around your body to keep you close. “We should be going to bed anyway, babe. We can pick back up tomorrow, if you’d like.” She kisses your forehead tenderly as you just simply nod, your body too tired and brain too fried to do much of anything else. 

Once she’s tucked you in, making sure you’re comfortable and warm, she crouches down next to the bed. The lights are dimmed now, the only source of illumination being the moonlight that glitters in through the blinds, kissing your skin just right. Sitting there, face to face with you, she realizes that you’re her person. The one that she wants to wake up next to every morning and fall asleep wrapped around every night; the one to go on late night drives through the city with, stopping wherever your hearts desire; the one to hold through the bad times and comfort through the sad. You mean the world to her, and she can’t help but declare it.  

“사랑해, Y/N.” 

Despite only being half conscious, you’d never ignore the sound of her voice. “Mmm?” You mumble groggily, the noise making her laugh. She makes a mental note to add that to her list of favorite sounds. “Nothing, angel. Rest now.” With that, she goes to stand, but you catch her wrist before she can go. “No, tell me. Pleaaase?” Your eyes are open now, but just enough for her to see that beautiful sparkle in them. “Tomorrow. Now shhhh.” She leans down, placing a hand on your cheek to caress it, as she presses her lips to yours in an attempt to silence you. Her plan works, and she gives you a few more pecks before going to pick up and organize the books that were still strewn about on the floor. Not even a minute later, the sounds of your soft snores carry over to her ears, and she just shakes her head in amusement. 

~~~ The Next Day ~~~

“Alright, ready baby?”

“Do your worst.”

“Next up is… 사랑해.” Her eyes hold a hint of mischief, and you furrow your brow as you try to place where you’ve heard that. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Have you said this one before? It sounds familiar…” Now, deeply confused, you rack your brain. She plays innocent, though, having no intention of bringing up what happened the night before. With you being none the wiser, she’s content with teasing you for now. 

“Oh, that’s gonna drive me insane. Roseanne! What does it mean?” She chuckles at your frustration and use of her full name, but she doesn’t give in. Clearly, she gets a kick out of this. 

“Just start guessing, babe.”

~~~ Present Day, At The Blackpink Dorm ~~~

“Guys, I have the perfect game for tonight! Somebody was talking about it at the studio today: it’s called the Newlywed Game. I wanna see how well the lovebirds can do.” Lisa informs as she walks through the front door of the dorm, making her way into the living room where you and the girls are sitting. 

“Oh you’re on, Manoban. I know Rosé like the back of my own hand.” A smug expression takes over your features as you smirk at Lisa, standing up and playfully challenging her. 

“Oh yeah? Jennie and I are so gonna beat you.” She matches your energy, coming eye to eye with you, and she struggles to mask her grin. With the way she’s moving her lips to hide it, she kinda looks like a fish. 

Jisoo is next to speak as she goes to stand between the two of you, pretending to hold you back. “Hey, hey, break it up. Save it for the game.” Lisa sticks her tongue out at you, which prompts you to brush past Jisoo and tackle her onto the sofa. Jennie shouts, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” And soon, all of you are piled together in a heap of fake punches and throws, laughing loudly. 

{....} The Game {....}

“It’s neck and neck as our couples head into the final round; whoever wins this, wins the game.” Jisoo announces to no one, gesturing and looking to imaginary cameras around the room. “Contestants, are you ready?” Everyone nods in affirmation, and you give Rosé’s hand a loving squeeze. 

“Who was the first to say, ‘I love you’?”

At the question, you look to Rosé with a cocky expression on your face, absolutely convinced that you’ve got it in the bag. She scribbles her answer down on the white board -- yes, surprisingly, the girls had a few of them laying around the dorm -- and looks up at you with a smile. 

“Reveal your answers in 3...2...1…” Jisoo calls out in her best host voice, successfully creating suspense as she holds onto the numbers, dragging the count down out. 

“Now!”

Everyone flips their board around, and it seems as though time stops for a moment. Lisa and Jennie have the same answer, and you look to see what Rosé put -- despite being confident that you already know. Your jaw nearly drops to the floor as you read her name on the board.

“WHAT??” You exclaim, utter disbelief coursing through you: your whole life is a lie, it’s official. The other team is cackling by now, and you send them a mocking smile. 

Eyes now focused back on your partner, you say, “I totally said it first. Remember, that night after dinner with your parents back in Melbourne?” You hope something will click at that, her memory magically being jogged. Alas, that never happens. Everyone gets comfortable on the couches in preparation for the story she’s about to tell.  

“We hadn’t been dating super long, but it was when I was teaching you Korean back at your place. We cut the lesson short because you got sleepy, so I put you to bed. I couldn’t help myself though; you just looked so cute all cuddled up like that. I hadn’t expected for you to actually hear me, since I thought you had already passed out, but you asked me to tell you what it meant. I was stubborn and didn’t, of course,” You narrow your eyes at her, ready to stick up for your past self, but your heart secretly soars at how precious that story is.

“I love you, a lot, Rosé; but I hardly think that that counts, considering I was practically unconscious,” you say, putting emphasis on the word. The inner gamer in you is on full display, and you’re not ready to admit defeat yet. 

“Nope, we won, fair and square.” Lisa declares, exaggeratedly tossing her hair over her shoulder. You look to Jisoo, hands clasped together, eyes pleading, but she hands the victory to the other team. 

With a roll of your eyes, you tut at the loss; in no time, though, the feeling of Rosé’s arms snaking around you has you abandoning your little pity party, opting instead to smile at her. You pull her in for a kiss -- there’s no one you’d rather lose with, after all. Her lips turn up in a smile, and you can taste the cherry gloss on them. Eventually, the two of you decide to spare the others from your love-fest, and pull away. You keep an arm around her, your other hand busy being held by hers, and she lays her head on your shoulder. 

The playful atmosphere still stands, and Jennie goes to rub it in. “How’s it feel to lose, Y/N?” 

Dramatically, you look off into the distance, pretending to be in deep thought, before looking down at Rosé, and say, “With you, I can never lose; you’re the greatest prize I could ever ask for, Rosé.” The other girls let out a chorus of boos at your cheesy line, and Rosé lets out a little squeal as she scrambles to hide her blushing cheeks. With each laugh that she lets out, her body shakes against you, and you laugh right along with her. 

“Have I told you how adorable you are?” She asks, gazing up at you through her lashes. 

You purse your lips at her own cheesiness, and say, “Once or twice, I think. But tell me again.” 

Over the course of the night, she does just that -- multiple times, might I add -- and the 5 of you revel in each other’s company. Given their busy schedules, the opportunity to spend multiple hours with each other can be pretty rare; so, all of you thoroughly take advantage of the night. Karaoke sessions, Netflix binges, dance battles, food breaks, tickle fights -- anything you can think of, you guys probably did it. 

As things wind down, everyone is nodding off, and you take that as your cue to go. You remove your arms from their position around Rosé, the action drawing a whine from her, and you lay her back against the couch so that you can bid the girls goodnight.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” Jisoo says, voice laced with exhaustion, as she flips the small pillow in front of her over to the cool side. 

“Night, loser.” Lisa’s grin can be heard through her words, and you lightly smack her as you go by.

“Sleep well, Y/N. We love you.” Jennie is the most awake of any of them, and she reaches up to give you a hug. 

“Goodnight guys, we’ll see you in the morning.” Arms are thrown up into the air as a sign of acknowledgement to your statement, and you make your way back to Rosé.

She’s curled up against the side of the sofa, her hair falling gracefully over the armrest. Not having the heart to wake her up, you opt to scoop her up into your arms, smiling as she drapes hers around your neck. Her skin is warm against your own, and you take comfort in the feeling. Somehow she always manages to be so, so perfect, without even trying. As you make the journey back to her room, you’re careful to not bump into anything. She shifts a bit in your arms, and your heart nearly stops when she lazily mumbles your name in her sleep, a cute smirk on her lips. Nothing feels better than this.

Now in her bedroom, you slowly lean against the door until it shuts, and the soft sound of it latching behind you echoes across the silent space. You lay her down and pull the sheets up on her -- just as she had done that day, all those months ago -- and press a kiss to her cheek. “사랑해, Rosé.” As you climb into bed next to her, she rolls over to face you. A small smile plays on her beautiful lips as she says, “I heard that; I love you, too, baby.” A content sigh leaves your lips as you beam at her and pull her into your embrace. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for reading!!!

[babyloposts]

RoseBud

My Hero Academia Gang AU

Pairing(s): Sero Hanta x fem!reader

Warnings: language, drug use, explicit content, sexual themes, gang imagery, violence

Summary: a simple crush on a guy quickly turns south as you become wrapped up in an unsafe life of lies, drugs, and violence. What happens when you become a key player in a war between to rival gangs and have to deal with a complicated love life all at the same time.

—————————————————

0.5

You stayed occupied on your phone until Hatsume returned to finish up the details of your already sore rose. In the time it took for her to do whatever business she had with those boys, your numbing cream had began to wear off.

The tension in the room was thick. The previously care-free energy Hatsume possessed was replaced with a melancholic and faraway stare in her eyes.

“Alright babe I’m all done. Remember to clean the skin with a gentle anti-bacterial soap and use alcohol-free moisturizer alright.” There was a feigned happiness in Hatsume’s voice, but her eyes said it all. Whatever Bakugou had done to her, whatever he and the red head had taken from her must have dampened her mood more than the threat from earlier.

You nodded to Hatsume and she took her leave as you were re-dressing. Luckily the top you wore was a light fabric and didn’t rub against your tattoo too much, but you could tell, this was going to hurt in the morning.

Walking back into the main lobby you only found Sero. No Bakugou, Hatsume, or mysterious Red Head to be found. You wanted to be happy to see Sero, but the look on his face and the mark on his face were more than enough to dampen your mood.

“Sero, oh my God!” He cringed as your finger lightly danced over his bruised cheekbone. Your hand flew to him without even thinking. Quickly you whipped it back and silently scolded yourself for your overbearing nature. “I’m sorry I-”

“Don’t apologize. It’ll only make me feel worse about getting punched in the face.” He chuckled, but your expression never faltered. The worry was there and it wasn’t going anywhere. Your brain was rattling with questions of ‘why?’ and ‘what happened?’, but as soon as you even fixed your mouth to speak Sero was cutting you off with the sharp movement of rising to his feet.

“Let me drive you home. It’s late.” Without checking for a change in your face or any confirmation he turned to leave the shop, trusting that you had fallen instep behind him.

The car ride to your apartment didn’t answer any lingering questions either. The only sounds that graced your ears was the buzzing of the engine and the light sounds of J. Cole songs emanating from the stereo. Sero periodically asked for vague directions to your side of town, but surprisingly he found your small complex with ease.

“Thank you.” You sighed as he shifted the car into park. The car ride may have been soothing, but the fear for your new friend’s well-being never once left your gut.

“Don’t thank me. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. And I pride myself on being a pretty nice guy.” The smile graced easily over his face as if he didn’t have a giant bruise forming under his eye. Your expression remained unmoving, your friend full of wonder as to what he was hiding from you. Yea, you had just officially met Sero tonight and he really isn’t obligated to tell you anything personal, but he was acting like none of that crazy shit just happened.

Sero chuckled, breaking through your bewildered inner monologue to move around and open your car door for you. “Alright, this is the part where you go home. Not that I’m trying to get rid of you.” He winked.

“R-right.” You get out of the car and start to your apartment. This didn’t feel right, the energy was too weird. You knew in the back of your mind that Denki was right. He had said Sero was a good guy and you’d be in good hands with him and he was right. Sero was probably trying to protect you from whatever shady business he was apart of, but you couldn’t leave this “date” where it was. You made it about half way to the door to enter the lobby of the building before you spun on your heels and placed your hands firmly on your hips. Sero was watching you as he leisurely leant on the hood of his black muscle car. Totally unbothered as you had come to expect.

“You’re not leaving here without me checking you out.” You said with all the gusto you could muster.

“Go ahead. I’m standing right here.” He smirked and drank you in with his eyes.

“Stop being an idiot and come upstairs with me. I can’t go to sleep tonight knowing that I just let you leave here with a black eye and I didn’t even offer you an ice-pack.”

“If you wanted me to come up to your apartment with you, you didn’t have to make up an excuse.” He punctuated his sentence with the chirp of his car doors locking and jogged up next to you.

“What happened to you being a gentleman?” You snorted.

“I can’t ever turn down an offer like that from you. I’ll take my chances.” He grinned slyly. You rolled your eyes trying to act like his charm wasn’t getting to you.

Sero followed you into the elevator and into your apartment. It was quaint and homey and smelled of bergamot incense. Luckily you had cleaned up a few days ago and your apartment was presentable to guests.

“You can sit on the couch I’ll get you some ice and a damp rag.” Without checking to see if he even listened to your instructions you busied yourself hopping from room to room of your apartment to gather the supplies to help his worsening bruise. Once you were back in the living room you instinctively pressed the makeshift ice-pack to Sero’s eye causing him to wince.

“That’s what you get for getting yourself beat up because of me.” You huffed.

“What do you mean? I didn’t-”

“I heard what he said Sero. That blond guy was yelling at Hatsume saying that you left the club before you were supposed to and he had to finish the job for you. You told me that you were done for the night. I wouldn’t have cared if we stayed longer.”

“I didn’t get beat up for you.” Softly, your hand was removed from in front of his eye. With Sero’s vision no longer obscured he could see the look of guilt clear as fat on your face. “I chose to leave. I was gonna do what needed to get done regardless, but my boss has little faith in me I guess. He sent his guard dog after me instead of trusting that I know how to get shit done.” Sero grumbled at the end. That seemed to have put him off. It was the one time his chill façade had faded that night.

“So... taking me to Hatsume was an excuse?”

Quickly the charm was back and he was reassuring you that you were priority number one. “No. Well kind of. I still wanted you to have a good time, but I would have had to see Hatsume tonight anyway. So, two birds and all that.” He shrugged.

With the ice pack now back on his face you started again, you found it was easier to speak your mind this way. No seductive eyes to sway the conversation. “Okay. But still. You should have checked in with whoever to avoid all this.” You gestured to his face.

“This happens more often than you think.”

“Sero. Be serious please.” You sighed. “You didn’t need to get hurt indirectly because of me. I’m not gonna ask what you or Bakugou needed from Hatsume, because obviously it wasn’t tattoo related, but can you at least promise me that you won’t leave working just to hang with me?”

“So there’s gonna be a next time.” His eyebrows wiggled, taunting you.

You stammered. You didn’t mean to sound presumptuous, but you were hoping he would want to go out with you again. “I mean yeah, I thought tonight was fun, all things considering.”

“Yeah? Me too.” His hand began to snake to your thigh that was now exposed to him as your skirt hiked up from your sitting position. The hand was comforting reminding you of the comfort you got from him earlier that night in the car.

“I-“ Your throat all of a sudden felt so dry. Clearing uncomfortably, you began again. “I don’t know if this is really gentlemanly.” You chuckled. Sero’s gaze at you did not falter for a second. His eyes were hazy and his eyelids dropped. The look in his eyes drew you in and you dropped the ice-pack from his face.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t keep my eyes off you. You’re beautiful.” You smiled as the compliment. Again the compliment on your beauty was unfamiliar, but greatly appreciated.

“Thank you... but I-” Your protests were quickly silenced by the force of his lips pressing against yours.

Like ice against a flame you melted into the kiss automatically. Your lips mended together perfectly. His felt rough, slightly chapped, but the way he moved in rhythm with you caused you to swoon. You were both drunk on each other’s touch. His hands roamed you lower body and rested on your waist, while you explored his hair and massaged his scalp with your finger tips.

A firm squeeze to your upper thigh elicited a gasp from your lips breaking the kiss and allowing Sero just enough time to slip your blouse over your head. What a pleasant surprise it was to find you without a bra on to obstruct his view. “Nice tat.” He smirked.

To avoid the embarrassment bubbling in your chest you shut him up this time by climbing into his lap and resuming the kiss where you had left off. In this position he had free reign of your body. His hands explored every inch of your legs, ass, and back.

You were a frustrated moaning and groaning into his mouth which only made him want to touch you more. Those intimate sounds making him harden beneath you.

Sero was undeniably sexy. You had fantasized about being with him before you really knew him, but everything went beyond your expectations. The way his rough hands felt against your body, the way his tongue and lips felt tangling with yours and his scent. It was a strong mix of cologne, weed, and something almost sickeningly sweet. You could have sworn it was...

Cherry Blossoms.

As if I’ve cold water had been poured on you, you ended your make out session with your crush prematurely.

“What happened?” Sero finally showed some other emotion. A mix of curiosity and worry.

You panicked how could you explain this. “Sero... you- you don’t want me.”

“The fuck are you on? Of course I want you.” His eyes flicked down taking in the sight of you bare chested and sitting on his straining erection.

“No you don’t. I’m sorry but, it’s my quirk that’s making you like me.”

“Huh?”

previous|next

Masterlist

Taglist: @black-bhabie-2000

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 10

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. Mild smut in this chapter.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Tony fluff, Tony snark, Tony sass and Tony smut (finally!). My & reader's brain be like: tony tony tony tony. A request for my readers: do I write a believeable tony? Is he in character, more or less?

My beta @miscmarvelwritings - she's not into Tony but even then, she was finally excited about them finally getting down & dirty. The patience of this woman...

"Tony, could I borrow, like, a hoodie or something?"

He eyed my attire critically for a moment, seemingly coming to the same conclusion I did minutes earlier, and made a beeline for the couch in the back of the lab. Picking up and examining a black mass of fabric, deeming it satisfactory, he tossed it to me. "It's clean enough, I guess."

The thin straps of my mesh top rubbed against a lot of tender skin, leaving pink lines in the wake of it. A sigh of relief escaped me involuntarily when I removed it -

"Woah, woah," Tony squeaked, covering his eyes with an exaggerated gesture. "Warn a man!"

I honestly didn't see what the big deal was. "Tony, chill. I'm pretty sure you've seen it all and then some." I snorted, stretching briefly, shrugging on the slightly oversized hoodie. It smelled like the lab - like Tony, too, but mostly like motor oil and iron. Beggars can't be choosers, however - I had already devised and executed the plan that will let me keep the hoodie.

"When you put it that way..." He smirked, briefly returning to his usual self and giving me a salacious eyebrow wiggle.

I laughed in response, wiggling my hips, feeling the hem of my skirt swish against my thighs. I considered removing the fishnet tights, too, but a brief look in the reflective wall divide between Tony's and Bruce's labs got me pulling out my phone to take two dozen selfies. I looked great with Tony's clothes on.

The engineer chuckled at my antics, coming up behind me as I sat on the floor with my knee raised, chin resting on it. The amber liquid sloshed over the top of his glass, dripping down his fingers. He sat behind me.

"Weller Full Bourbon?" I asked, bringing my nose closer to his fingers to get a good whiff. The distinctive vanilla notes in his whiskey were unmistakable. "Good choice," I made a serious face. "Fancy."

"I can afford it, darling," He snarked back, devoid of malice.

He was so close. And so warm. And I needed a new screensaver. Shuffling back, I reclined against Tony's chest, carefully wedging my head in the crook of his neck.

God help me.

I felt his breath hitch. The dark, magnetic pools of his eyes stared at me from our combined reflection. Tony's eyes were the most expressive, he could fake a smile, he could charm the press and countless investors, but his eyes only spoke the truth. Always. I loved working with Tony because his gaze would light up. It was akin to seeing a little kid on Christmas.

A muscular arm snaked around my waist, pressing my back to his chest. The metal of his arc reactor jabbed uncomfortably between my shoulder blades but there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

"You're filming, Princess," He interrupted my Moment.

"Sure," I answered, not caring. There could be another alien invasion happening and I wasn't able to give a damn.

I felt the vibrant chuckle more than heard; Tony snatched the phone out of my hand without permission. I noticed the furrowed brow when he opened my Instagram and saw the unmistakable evidence of my frequent partying, yet he didn't comment on it.

"Tony, the press is going to go nuts," I raised my eyebrows, seeing what he was planning to do.

"They've seen me doing worse things," He scoffed. And took a photo of us ‘just chilling’ in his lab, hugging. He picked out a filter and everything., and then posted it.

"First of all, I am pretty awesome to be 'doing', I've had only good feedback," I scoffed at his dismissive attitude, using my free hand to make quote marks. Then I turned my head to stare him square in the face. "Steve's going to be pissed and Ms. Potts is going to call to yell at you." I punctuated the statements with a raised eyebrow.

There was really no innocent way the press could represent the photo that he posted. I didn't care for it, my parents wouldn't give a damn (my father probably would encourage it, the free publicity and all). Tony himself didn't seem like the kind of man to care much about some gossip articles, if anything, he enjoyed provoking them into a frenzy. Or at least, he used to.

"I'll put them both on hold. I like to watch the line blink," Tony winked, smirking. "I've been told the press expects me to have a midlife crisis since my last breakup," Eyes darkening, the man swiftly finished off his drink.

Midlife crisis seemed such a bitter way of putting it. Considering my own preferences in romantic partners, I couldn't help but feel offended at the way people offhandedly dished out labels - "midlife crisis", "daddy issues" and so on and so forth. The briefest part of me traveled back to Mr. Davies' living room where - no, I am not going there.

"Huh," I said, coming to a conclusion. A sad one at that.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Princess, but you don't seem like the kind of girl who thinks about pesky things like reputation or consequences," Tony mused idly, coming to a conclusion of his own.

"Nope, I don't give a fuck," I agreed with his opinion wholeheartedly. "If I would have a publicist, they would quit on the second day."

"I pay mine, uh, twice the average amount and they still quit. We're doomed, baby," Tony's gleeful face was mere inches away from my own, whiskey-tipsy and glowing.

I snorted, sliding lower to further burrow into his arms. Tony's sudden touchy-feely mode wasn't lost on me. My own touch starvation overrode any common sense that I had left. The totally-PG (well, not quite) embrace, one armed hug brought me more satisfaction than any of my sexual partners had ever achieved to give me.

"Why are there so many messages from Banner? Are you staging a world domination plan and forgot to include me? I'm hurt!" Tony exclaimed suddenly, a whiny tone to his voice.

"Thor's space yeasts have corrupted our minds with their spores. Soon all will become... Mushroom!" I deepened my voice for the dramatic effect, flailing my arms on the last word for the extra flair.

The man wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye; his eyes were sparkling, laughing even. "I'm evicting Thor and his supremely selfish yeast. How dare it ignore me."

"I vouched for you, I really did," I kept up the silly game. "But alas, the yeasts deemed you too... Boomer," The pride in my voice could barely hold back the laughter threatening to spill.

"Did you just..?" Tony gaped. "Did you just call me old?!"

I attempted to get away, shrieking when the tips of Tony's fingers squirmed along my midsection. "It was the yeast! IT WAS THE YEAST!" My resistance proved to be futile. The engineer had mass and strength on his side, years of piloting and maneuvering the Iron Man suits showing just how quick and nimble he could be when the situation demanded it.

"Take that from an old man!" He exclaimed triumphantly, using his arm to hold down both of my hands from grasping at him. One of his legs held down my own; we were a squirming, writhing mass of limbs in the heat of a tickle fight.

The cocaine in my blood, the mild buzz from being drunk on Tony - my body reacted to the close proximity of the man who occupied my fantasies. I was blushing, breathing heavily, and it wasn't just from the exertion. It should have affected me less, but I struggled to keep my eyes from Tony's face; his own flush, the moist part of his lips.

I wondered how a deer in the headlights felt. Was it hot, like it's body was suddenly alight, or was it cold, liquid nitrogen freezing in its veins?

"Fuck," I mumbled half-coherently.

"What was that?" He arched an eyebrow, clever eyes carefully watching my own.

"I'm in trouble," I chuckled weakly, looking away, pretending to struggle against his arms.

"You're trouble," He announced, grinning. His fingertips slowed, skimming gently along my sides now.

I retaliated with a tentative brush of my foot along the softness of his jean-covered inner thigh. It was euphoric, seeing Tony shudder, the thick eyelashes fluttering for the briefest part of a second.

"We should stop," He whispered suddenly, making a move to disentangle us both. Mixed signals, we've got em, ladies and gentlemen.

"Why?" I was tired of this dance. It was fun but painful. My firm decision of the past still stood: I won't be the lovesick fangirl, I won't be another notch in his bedpost. The resolve was crumbling but it was still there, to some point.

"You're not sober, this is wrong," He mumbled. "I'm more than twice your age, Princess."

That ship had sailed, Tony. If only you knew... "Do you seriously expect me, out of all people, to find common ground with someone my age? Someone like Peter? Jeez," I tried to be amused. If it came out more pleading, I pretended to not notice it. It was the moment of truth. It needed to be said. "I'm FUBAR, Tony. I'm lucky if anyone at all will want to put up with me, much less someone I can stand. I'm spoiled, I'm selfish, and annoying. I know that. I just thought we were friends and you'd be...kinder about it." My mumbling was met with a somewhat perplexed stare.

"I..." His eyebrows threatened to have a close encounter with his hairline. "What the fuck? Are you dead set on giving me a stroke today? I have a heart condition," He yanked me back towards his chest, unceremonious and indignant. "You can be so smart yet so stupid. Gosh, where is the world rolling, I'm quoting Pepper now." He seemed to be muttering to himself.

"Pot, kettle." I didn't resist the urge to snark.

"Right," Tony rolled his eyes. "You're beautiful and all that jazz. You deserve much more than this." Uncharacteristically sad, he pointed to himself, again. "I'm an old man with more issues than Playboy magazine."

"And I'm an angsty teenager with daddy issues, we're a match made in heaven."

"Hell," Tony was eyeing our combined reflection with a sort of petulance. It was hard keeping track of his microexpressions; his eyes and face held fleeting, half-finished thoughts, just like when he was creating, inventing something new.

"Works for me. Lucifer's hot," I answered with my brain on autopilot. He caught my eyes in the shiny glass, trapping me in his calculative gaze.

"The Netflix one or the Supernatural one?" Tony asked, equally absent from the conversation. Neither of us were able to break eye contact, breathing laboured and hearts thudding in our chests. I felt Tony's pulse fluttering under my palm where I'd rested it on his wrist.

The organ that dutifully pumped blood through my own veins and kept me alive threatened to escape my body, jump out of my chest, make its way out my mouth. Tony's unblinking stare penetrated my skin, seeped into the hollow behind my eyelids, ignited a flame within me and froze my thoughts.

"The one with the detective kink," I answered breathily. "I have an affinity for brown-eyed, narcissistic, sarcastic men with self-destructive tendencies," The last part of my sentence was swallowed by Tony's lips.

My brain shorted out, just like that. Bourbon on his breath and a new dose of snark on his tongue, he licked into my mouth with the grace and finesse of years of experience. It was sudden, it was rough, it was fantastic. His beard left marks on my face and I craved the burn of it.

"Fuck," I moaned when we were forced to surface for oxygen. My hips had moved, pressed against his own, prominent arousal digging into the small of my back. Tony had me moaning and grinding into it in mere seconds.

A hand rested on my face with surprising tenderness, turning my face to look at my own reflection. My hair was a mess, lips puffy - Tony wasn't looking any better, hunger and lust in plain view. It was a good look on him.

"Watch," His breath ghosted over the shell of my ear, lips traveling to the nape of my neck to attach themselves to the very sensitive flesh of that area.

I obeyed, gazing at the scene with lidded eyes. Keeping them open was a struggle. My body was flooded with sensation, riding the waves of pleasure like a rollercoaster. I wanted to please him, needed to obey him, to feel him.

My thighs quivered at Tony's touch. There was no warning, no preamble as he wedged a firm hand, separating them quickly to follow the heat. His biceps flexed deliciously. Under my skirt, through the fishnets and the tiny, lacy panties I wore.

"Fucking shit," The man moaned loudly, finding me, predictably, soaking wet. It was one hot, sticky mess between my legs.

The keen that left my mouth might've been embarrassing, yet it only spurred Tony on. Gently parting my lower lips, he gathered the moisture, suddenly withdrawing from me. My confusion met his amusement in the mirror as he stuck the two fingers in his mouth, moaning obscenely and loudly at the taste.

The corners of my mouth lifted, happy. "To-ony," I whined, my pussy aching for more. Now that I had felt the relief and pleasure of his touch, I didn't want it to end.

"Princess," He replied, seriously and sternly. I shuddered at the scratchiness of his voice. The hand that I was missing returned, stroking over the outside of my pussy with broad, soft motions. I arched, presented myself into the touch. "So eager," Tony mumbled into my shoulder, catching a bit of my skin between his teeth.

His fingers dipped deeper, delving in between the puffy, engorged flesh and stroking once, twice, before finding my clit. The pads of Tony's fingers were rough, hardened by manual work and hours spent in front of his inventions, making, tinkering, creating. The friction was perfect. I followed each stroke with a fluid motion of my hips.

"Tony, fuck," I slurred my approval, needing him to know how amazing he made me feel. Tony's form pressed closer, both of us melting, molding into each other.

"Baby girl, what do you need?" His raspy voice tickled my neck. I was sure there would be an array of marks decorating me come morning and absolutely loved the thought. I belonged to Tony Stark, in body and heart and mind and soul.

"I want to cum," I had no shame left. "I want to feel you."

He groaned, rutting into me. A squeak was all I managed to emit as two thick fingers plunged inside of me with a wet squelch. My pussy immediately took hold of the situation, squeezing and rippling around them. I was so close, my nerves pulled up taut like an overtaxed string. The effect this man had on me was positively unholy.

My clit throbbed under his thumb. Tony somehow managed to reach every single sweet spot on my body, effortlessly, easily, like he'd done it a thousand times.

"Ohmyfuckinggod, Tony," I came hard, shuddering, drenching the fingers inside of me. The moment I began sagging in his arms was the moment they tightened around me; I felt Tony grind helplessly against me, saw his own eyes slam shut and his brow furrow.

The hand that was in me withdrew rapidly as he hastily popped the button on his pants, freeing his cock and giving it several desperate tugs. I couldn't see it; I had to settle for the sensation of his hand, his hips rubbing against my clothed back.

He came quickly, with a loud shout. My curiosity got the best of me and I used the brief moment of his weakness to turn around, take a good look at him.

Tony was a fucking mess with a fucking gorgeous cock. Thick and veiny.

My face was level with it before he could have opened his eyes. I wanted, craved to know how he tasted. With gentle kitten licks, I collected the stray drops of cum running down his hand, careful of the rapidly softening, sensitive flesh.

His eyes popped open in surprise. I smiled at him, unseeing, collecting as much of him as I could.

"Fuck, Princess," He breathed. "I'm just a man, I'm pushing fifty," Gently pulling my head away but holding it mere inches from his cock. Indecisive.

I reached over for his hand with my own, popping finger after finger in my mouth, collecting every drop of cum like it was nectar. I could be good...I If properly motivated. The salty musk was all the motivation I needed at that moment. He pulled me in for a filthy, sloppy kiss once I was done, both of us humming, vocalising the shared pleasure.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @as-i-layhereinyourbed @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney

As always, feedback is welcome and this blog is keyboard smash & emoji friendly.

[jjba-hell]

Take of Epitheus

So this is the second half of my most recent piece. Context for reader’s relations and abilities were stated here- you can read the pieces separately (but I’d appreciate if you read them together UwU)

Prompt chosen was: Happy ending because a happy ending for us would have just been if our faves could LIVE

Triggers: mention of death, caring and rehabilitation of extreme bodily trauma (I guess you could put that under gore?) dark yet hopeful

@giogio-gucci-gangstar @risottoneroo @lasquadraweek2020​ @junosartsthetic​ 

2,5K words, gender neutral reader- good luck

“Will you please stop being a crybaby and let me take off the bandages already?”

You were busy finicking with Formaggio’s bandaged chest- the burns he had gotten over most of his body needed intensive care but he whined about it every step of the way.

“Hey hey! Come on, be gentle with me!”

Your gaze shot up to meet his cringing face. “I AM GENTLE!”

You moved quicker- opting to rip off the stained gauze from the burn ointment that peeled off the burnt skin with a sticky squelch.

“Would you rather have Melone do it?” You grumbled, more to yourself but he grabbed your wrist.

“No! Please no, you at least listen when I whine- he just ignores me.” In his eyes you could actually imagine seeing some form of desperate pleading so you sighed, continuing to gently remove the rest of the gauze.

“Can I put the air conditioning on for you while I prepare the soak?”

He looked so ashamed of himself as he nodded, you couldn’t help but feel a scrap of sympathy for him.

Now that everything was over with the Boss’s take down, you were left having to rehabilitate your team back to functioning people. Your stand could only heal so much- mostly keeping their souls attached to their bodies- but the physical healing you had to do yourself.

Formaggio could at least stand up and lead himself to the bath you had prepared for him but some of the others weren’t so lucky. Prosciutto took a particularly bitter hit at his pride with his busted right leg which you had no choice but to amputate so getting him clean was a particularly tense event you deeply dreaded.

You advised Formaggio to take his time in the bathroom as you changed the bedsheets but you knew he had limited mobility so you’d need to help him with his back.

Pesci wasn’t so lucky...he was in literal pieces, Illuso was still in the hospital you dumped him in while Melone was doing the research to find the cure for the disease still ravaging his system. Melone got off pretty well- you had recognized the snake that bit him and got him on anti-venom within a few minutes so he was back on his feet in a week- albeit a bit mute. Ghiacchio was holding on for dear life- you had replaced his windpipe but you’d be lucky if he wasn’t paralyzed from the neck down. Risotto was luckily just a few gunshot wounds heavier but they weren’t the only ones you had chained back to their bodies.

You slid down on the edge of the bath beside Formaggio to run some of the water over his back. His shoulders slumped. You understood why- they were all like this. They felt defeated- by their own sudden inability and you couldn’t reassure them that they were lucky enough to be alive, figuring you’d personally rather be dead than hanging on for dear life.

“You can help yourself right?”

He could only nod.

You got up and let him help himself, wrapping him back up in bandages and gauze before wrapping up the laundry and taking out the food from the freezer to thaw for his dinner. “Call me when you need me.”

Outside Formaggio’s apartment you popped the trunk of your car and tossed the second batch of laundry into the trunk. A few cars behind your own, another car door opened and out stepped a dirty blonde in a red suit.

You narrowed your eyes at him as he approached, suddenly noticing how young he was.

“What do you want, kid?”

You called back as he approached. The second he took a step too close to your liking you gave one back. “That’s close enough. What do you want?”

“You’re La Squadra’s healer, aren’t you?”

“What about it?”

“You saved some of my friends a few days ago.”

You couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow. “You worked under Bucciarati?”

“Yes- I do. Or rather, used to. Listen, I’ve been tracking you and this is the third time you’ve come here this week... what are you doing?”

You racked your brain for a second. Part of your stand’s ability- working with the chain that links soul to body allowed you to see some memories people held near the end of their lives.

The kid wrapped in flowers at the coliseum... that’s where you’ve seen his face before.

“Panacotta Fugo?” You guessed from the names you’d heard in the kid’s soul.

His eyes widened a bit. “Yes, how did you-“

“The kid I saved at the coliseum... you were in his memories. Could’ve sworn you were nowhere to be seen, though.”

At this point you were playing mind games with Fugo, you didn’t need more complications to your life.

“I’m trying to help you. You probably know Giorno-“

“That blonde kid that healed Abbachio.” Of course you were referencing the other man you had found on the beach after you helped Risotto.

“Yes, I‘ve come to understand that you’ve been working around the clock to heal your teammates. You can keep people alive but not heal them.” He seemed to be a bit annoyed by finding a new way to approach the subject he wanted to talk about without you changing the subject.

You leaned against the back door of your car. “Then you’ve also figured out why I didn’t come running to the new Don to heal my teammates.”

You refused to continue giving this kid more information so you popped the driver seat door open.

“Bucciarati owes you, as does Abbacchio, and Narancia. Surely that’s enough leverage for you to gain something out of the situation.” He said simply, trying to get closer which you answered with another step back.

You pondered the idea- thinking out loud. “Three wishes from the Don’s inner circle but nothing from the Don himself. Hmmmm.” You tapped your fingers against the roof of the car. “Still can’t figure out why YOU came to deliver this news.”

Fugo seemed to curl in on himself, casting his gaze down at the pavement beside him. “I’m grateful for you saving them when I was too much of a coward to even join them on their crusade. If it weren’t for you, half of them would be dead.”

“Hm. And what insurance do I have that this isn’t some kind of trap?”

Fugo’s gaze shot back up with shock in his eyes. “A trap? Why would you think this was a trap?”

You shrugged. “A traitorous group of skilled assassins? You’d be missing on a grand opportunity to weed out any dangers for the new Don.”

The realization dawned on Fugo’s face- it was clearly not something he had considered.

“Tell Bucciarati that I’ll be at Libechio’s tomorrow at noon for half an hour. I’ll bite from him.”

And with that you stepped into your car and left. You came to a final stop at Risotto’s apartment- trying to get the stubborn bastard to rest instead of trying to walk on his janky leg.

“You seem less patient.” He grumbled as you eventually plopped down on the couch with a groan.

“Yeah, I’m chewing through my own problems.”

He slid down in the seat across the living room from you. “Which would be...?”

“One of Bucciarati’s old underlings came to me- promising some shit about helping me.”

Risotto’s eyebrow shot up. “Help you with what?”

“Taking care of you guys, Ris. I can only heal you so much but the Don can actually fix you.”

“Why would he offer the help?”

You sighed- forgetting that you hadn’t told any of them about what you did after you got Risotto to safety.

“Because I offered mine. There’s three of them that got a new lease of life because of me.”

Risotto seemed to digest your words behind his curled up fist, propped up on his lap.

“I’m not stupid, Ris. I know how dangerous it is. So I figured I’ll talk to the ones that owe me, personally.”

He lifted his head a bit, frowning up at you. “And what would you ask the three of them?”

“Heal you guys fully, of course.”

“But three of them are indebted to you.”

It took you a moment to click what he was getting at.

“You’re implying I ask for three things.”

“You can finally leave the mafia.”

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. Was it really how far you’d come? Had you come full circle? Was it time for you to finally do what you’ve been dying to for years?

You’d soon find out as you sat down at your table at Libechio’s with a hot plate of food- a commodity you’d been refusing yourself since Formaggio got burnt.

You’d just finished when Bucciarati walked in, unaccompanied for once.

“You look good for someone who used to be half dead.” You commented as you slid back in your seat, leaning one arm over the backrest with a cup of coffee in your other hand.

“I have you to thank for that.” He smiled warmly, sliding into the seat across from you.

You swirled your coffee in your cup, trying to get the sweetener at the bottom to dissolve into the black liquid.

“You were a weird case- it’s not often the chain gets broken and someone latches themselves back on.”

Bucciarati laughed, folding his hands over each other on the table. “You make it sound like you helped me out of curiosity.”

“You think I did it out of kindness?”

He tipped his head to one side, as if he was trying to understand you. “Why else would you?”

Ah, the billion lire question. You didn’t know why you ran down the beach to grab hold onto Abbachio’s soul until his team mates came over. You didn’t know why your first reaction to Narancia’s soul floating out of his body was to grab hold and wait until it could return to its body. You didn’t know why you desperately begged Bucciarati to zip his soul back together. But it didn’t change the fact that you did and it was Diavolo’s who was sent into oblivion.

It couldn’t possibly have been because you were a good person. Were you banking on having these debts paid out? You certainly weren’t thinking it at the time.

“I don’t know, in all honesty. Suppose it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Bucciarati’s tea arrived a few moments later and as he was adding the sugar he came forward with the reason for your meeting.

“As far as you probably know, my team and I are indebted to you but you are, understandably, mistrustful about the olive branch offered to you.”

You scoffed. “That’s an understatement, however I’ve come to offer collateral for our dealings.”

Bucciarati seemed to freeze in place, his teacup halfway to his mouth as you leaned in.

“And what would that be?”

“Simply reverting you back to your previous state. It’s as simple as that.”

Bruno placed his teacup back into its saucer with a serious look on his face. “May I ask you a question, y/n?”

You leaned forward with your arm on the table. “Of course.”

“What is it that you’ll be asking of us?”

You took a steady breath. You were unsure if you were going to indulge in this but it was do or die at this stage.

“For Abbachio’s life, I want my team healed completely- all damage inflicted on them needs to be reverted. I know what Giorno’s stand is capable of and I know he can heal them- even restore limbs as far as my understanding goes.”

Bruno only nodded. “Understood.”

“Second...” the words got caught in your throat but with a shaky determination you uttered the words. “I want to disappear. I want nothing to do with this gang, ever again. My existence, as far as any of you are concerned, is unknown.”

With a slight reluctance he nodded. “And your last request?”

“My team get the last request to do whatever they want. Weather that be to earn the Don’s loyalty or chicken out like me, the decision is theirs. And I expect you to respect it.”

Bruno met your gaze head on, before giving a heavy sigh. “Your requests seem fair. But you’ll have to ask Giorno yourself.”

You left Libechio with Bruno, sitting down in the back seat as Fugo drove you there- his eyes glancing up at the rear view mirror to yours every now and again.

“How old are you, Fugo?” You eventually asked. You could tell he was young but if he had just been on verging on 21 or 22, you weren’t sure.

“17.”

Your jaw dropped a bit at that formation. “Ah, life’s done you dirty you and you, Bruno?”

“Turning 21 in a few months.”

���Fuck. You’re infants.” You huffed as you leaned your elbow against the door.

“You’re not that much older than us.”

You couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh. “I passed 20 a long time ago. Back when things were much simpler.”

For a moment you rode in silence until you sat up and spoke to car as a whole. “Simply speaking as a coward and an unwilling participant in this bullshit, lemme ask- don’t you wish you were normal?”

You never did get an answer, not even a glance in the mirror from Fugo...

You didn’t say anything as you arrived at the villa, tiredly hauling yourself out of the car and following Bruno through the expansive hallways. You’d seen Giorno before- you knew he was young so you figured he and Fugo were the same age, or at least so you hoped- oh the team’s going to pop their stitches at hearing their ages.

You walked past Mista, the gunslinger that helped take down Ghiacchio, so you stopped in your tracks, turned to him and surveyed his face. “So that’s what you look like up close.”

Mista shrugged with a slight smile- was that... dare you say... personality?

He was about to open his mouth to say something to you but the baritone voice of Abbachio had you turning around to find him approaching you from a different hallway. “You know I never did catch your name.”

When you had held onto Abbachio’s soul on the beach, you had sensed some struggle within him- you recognized his story, understood what he was going through... but for men like him, coming back from the dead had two possible effects- either anger for refusing them the relief of death... or peace and clarity.

“You don’t need it. How’s life?” You smirked at him. He gestured for Mista to leave- which he did with a roll of his eyes so you and Leone were standing in the hallway alone.

“I wanted to ask you something... when I was dead, I saw things, people I’m pretty sure I would only have seen in the afterlife...”

“They’re real and chances were you were in the limbo between living and dead for the duration of the experience but I pulled you back.”

He glanced to the side, as if he was considering your words for a moment before nodding down the far end of the hallway where Bruno was standing, waiting for you. “He’s waiting.”

He spun around on his heel and walked away.

“Your friend really did forgive you, Abbachio. If you weren’t meant to come back I wouldn’t have been able to bring you back.” Was all you called back at him.

You walked past Bruno into the room Giorno was waiting, the door shutting behind you to leave you alone with the new Don, a bit on edge until his face emerged from the seat he was sitting in and you couldn’t help but feel relieved.

“So you’re the one I have to thank for my team’s survival.” He attempted to start the conversation.

You reached into your back pocket for your cigarettes and when you turned back to face him, his stand was at the ready.

“My my, no need to be on guard. I wasn’t part of the traitors.”

You brought a filter to your lips and walked towards the balcony, lighting the end without a word. “I’m guessing you’ve been briefed on my wishes?”

“I have- and I can agree to all of them.” He said as Golden Experienced de-materialized.

You hummed in content. Simply waiting for the ‘but’- it never came.

“No exceptions?”

“No, your requests are understandable and manageable. It’s you and your team’s motivations I wanted to know more on.”

You leaned against the balustrade of the balcony, tipping your head back to look up at the orange sky, painted by the setting sun.

“You mean why they were after Trish and Diavolo?”

“Yes.”

You picked your head up and took a drag from the cigarette between your fingers, letting the smoke dribble from your mouth.

“They wanted Trish to gain access to Diavolo. I wouldn’t have let them lay a hand on her. As for that bastard Diavolo, I suppose it was the shitty pay and the fact that they killed my brother and his husb-“ you forgot the marriage certificate was forged. “His lover.” You corrected yourself.

“So why wouldn’t you join in against the coop?”

You took another drag, hoping you could dull your own senses enough to not care about the words that came out of your mouth.

“I didn’t want to die. A stupid sentiment for a hitman but I felt like I can give still do good.”

“Then how did you end up in the gang in the first place?”

“My stupid, very dead brother. Whose killer you so graciously tossed into a garbage truck.”

Giorno actually laughed quietly at that, folding his arms over his chest as he joined you beside the balustrade.

“What did you do before it all?”

“I was a forensic pathologist, though I apprenticed as a mortician for many years.”

He nodded, gazing up at the sky with you.

“I admit, you’d have been a good addition to my own team but I understand your reasons for wanting to leave. There’s just one thing I ask of you- since it seems your stand can trace some things deep within a person’s soul...”

You didn’t completely think it’s fair, your part of the bargain was already done so you suppose you agreed on the terms simple because you were curious yourself... “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know the identity of my real father.”

[whyamistillwatchingtheseshows]

Forgive me this will be a long ass post because A. Trophy husband Fighter and CEO Tutor AU that’s plaguing my existence. Thank you @graveformydarling. B. The post @negrowhat made of the necklace kiss in comparison to Tharntype episode 13 of Type in Tharn’s lap as hands snake up his back...there is similar energy, I concur. However, it got me thinking. Here we go...

Burning question: Who is more dominant? Tharn or Tutor? 

Answer for me: Tutor. 

Sure, Tharn’s found his drive, power, or whatever you want to call it? Just pure “top energy?” It’s there but he wears his heart on his sleeve in many other aspects of life. Tharn seems more delicate than Tutor, and sure it’s been mentioned that Tutor wears a mask, but I still think he has an inner resolve around his emotions? Does this make sense? This emotional vulnerability  Tharn has is also easily soothed by a constant availability of loved ones [a big brother always there] but let’s just say: 

TYPE WOULD GET AWAY WITH OF A LOT MORE THAN FIGHTER EVER COULD?

Does this make sense? There’s dominant energy in Type and that has been there since before Tharn [not meaning his violence towards gay men, just his cocky attitude in general]. Type isn’t soft. Just as Tutor isn’t soft, but the thing is Tutor was actually looking for someone, or rather craved someone to take care of him and for him to do just the same...Here is a thing some of you may not see or agree with: THARN IS THE BIG BABY.  The big baby who well I guess just like Fighter will put on a front, however, there’s still this instinct he’s (forgive me) drilled into himself that he must always be “top.” Tharn merely had the reigns in the beginning because of Type’s apprehension and confusion over his feelings…

Where the fuck am I going with this? Focus. Focus. Tharn and Type may not be as versatile as Fighter and Tutor. Tharn and Type don't have that POWER FLUID feeling just yet. They seem pretty keen on keeping things the way they are...but if one day Type COULD GET WHAT HE WANTS AND IF HE KEEPS IT UP I’M SURE EVENTUALLY HE’D BE ABLE TO TAP THE SWITCH. Just saying. 

When Tutor shifts, I sometimes get this “no mister nice guy” feeling. When Tharn is angling for what he wants it’s more like “baby please, baby please baby please...please please.” HE BEGS. Does Type tease then eventually spoil? Yes. However, Fighter and Tutor CAN DO BOTH of those scenarios. Still feel like Tharn would growl, grasp hips firmly as possible when he has what he wants, but he has to often beg Type. He can’t play the “no mister nice guy” (he couldn’t even do so in that jealous bathroom scene, TYPE played that guy but hasn’t really played that guy like he’s probably imagined...) 

 I mean in the special episode Tharn is picking up Type from practice and they’re talking about family then suddenly somehow sex is in this conversation, “So does that mean we can do it tonight?” So you’ve gone without Tharn? Seems unlikely, but TYPE HOLDING OUT ON HIM, [probably to TEASE him] doesn’t that shift the power/dominance? As @graveformydarling mentioned in a post about Tutor being the one guiding Fight, then when it comes to Tharn and Type who is really guiding who once they found each other? 

Yes, so maybe it’s just that Tharn doesn’t want to switch positions physically, but he doesn’t have the same dominant energy as Tutor? I’m not saying that Tutor can’t be soft. We know he can and will be, but he uses that as a guide as well doesn’t he? To get Fight where he wants, to get what he wants? As the relationship develops for Tharn and Type, Tharn wouldn’t be able to guide much more, besides his guiding was more like prodding [written in some unfortunate ways].... Where’s the shift? Probably that sort of drunk kiss at the bar (ep 5-6?) when Tharn kisses Type (who kisses back so gladly and sort of blissfully unaware) and says, “you’re the friend I want to do this with.” Tharn was asking for more. Type backs away, Tharn pouts like a big baby. Type begrudgingly makes it up to him, step by step first with getting him Sprite as an apology, but then cue a kiss Tharn never thought he’d get and then the ankle kiss of course. Type slowly learned intimacy, but he’s still confused and will stray before he realizes what he truly wants. I just wonder how much control Type has? Type is a character who cannot be just one thing. So when does he FINALLY GET THE SWITCH? Can he convince Tharn of trying it again? Can he convince Tharn by describing the feelings he gets when Tharn holds his hips so tightly, driving inside him? Why wouldn’t Tharn change his mind? It’d be entirely different with Type. Also, this would be an opportunity for Type to make Tharn scream his name instead or frankly, just have more ways to make him more vocal during sex. 

If Type had a chance you don't think he’d jump at the idea of leaving Tharn just as messy as Tutor would leave Fighter? Think about that one. The problem is, Tharn has to learn to let it go, not necessarily find that sub space, but give over control a little bit. There’s something holding Tharn back? Uncomfortable first-time experience…I mean what was it? Can he really not give over,  though, the pouty big baby? He’s so sure of himself that it’s going to remain this way that he has to always top...not to say that Type hasn’t found other ways inside... but it’s just...now, that I’m thinking about it. It irks me a little bit that Tharn is so put off by it, especially when I think Type is so willing and cares so deeply that he’d take time, he’d take care of him before, during, and after, because he doesn’t want to go hard and fast like Tharn can do to him. Not just yet, no, and besides Type had a good teacher? So is Type a power bottom switch? Mind you this character didn’t know what he wants but now that Type knows what he wants and how he wants it and WHO he wants it from, he’s settled in. 

So @negrowhat, it can hit the same, but somehow I feel as if Type *makes whipped sounds* has more POWER over Tharn than we suspect. Never really thought about it, because maybe they would stay in their boats [I did mention once that they might also in comparison to FT]. Power bottom and his top, maybe that’s always TharrnType. Yet when you compared these two scenes by brain went oop. Wait, a second....what if one day Type wasn’t told to dream on? You can’t tell me that wouldn’t flip the switch and Type would be like yes please, baby. I mean…

Type wasn’t sure he heard correctly. “What did you say?” 

“Yes, Type. I want to try.” 

“Are you only doing this as a honeymoon gift or something? I mean I’ve only been asking for years.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Tharn shrugged. “I’ve prepped. Brought many of the usual necessities. So yes,” Tharn took a deep breath. “We can try this. Only with you. Forever with you.” 

Clad only in boxer shorts, they stood on a balcony looking towards the night sky. Tharn dipped a chin into Type’s shoulder, nuzzling lips into his neck. Type turned around to firmly grasp his husband’s hips, admiring the ring on his finger. Then he looked back to Tharn, holding his gaze. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Type.” The way he hums his name will forever drive him crazy. Type digs his fingers in at the hips and kisses him. Tharn will still take the opportunity to lift his husband towards the bed. There’s no getting around that significant detail. Type would then spend a considerable amount of time making sure Tharn is ready, in fact, maybe too long that the big baby would finally beg for it to happen. 

Ooh, you can’t make me choose. FightTutor. TharnType. Yeah, these two couples hit me something hardcore. It’s just Fighter and Tutor right from the get-go shifting, giving, taking, POWER FLUID, switch, versatile...Tharn and Type have yet to tap that switch, but if and when they could in the healthier ways FT approached the dynamic then…? Well, shit. I’m just going to make myself at home in the gutter.

[sam-bam-thank-you-maam]

Early Morning Confessions - The Walking Dead (Negan x Reader)

Summary: The reader finds herself unable to sleep one night because she has realized, she is in love with her roommate. So she gets up to tell him.

Warnings: SMUT, Porn without plot, Unprotected sex.

Note: I hope you all enjoy this. I'm not sure yet if there will be more. Let me know if you want more? I may add a little bit of plot to this if I continue.I'm sorry if their are any spelling/grammar errors I edited this at 2 am when i couldn't sleep.Please don't be shy to leave a comment! Your thoughts mean the world to me and can only help me improve my writing!

_____________________

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Taking a glance at the alarm clock on your nightstand you see 3:00 in big red numbers. Sighing you come to the realization that the reason you can’t sleep is your roommate down the hall. The man that has consumed your every thought since he moved in 8 months ago. Negan.

Sitting up you lay your head in your hands raking your fingers through your hair.

“I have to tell him.” you whisper into the darkness of your bedroom. With another sigh you toss the covers aside, getting out of bed, picking your robe up off of your desk chair and wrapping it around yourself to protect you from the nighttime chill of your house. You step into your slippers and pad gently to your door, opening it slowly to avoid it creaking.

Walking down the narrow hallway to where his room is you stop at his door, unsure. No stopping now Y/N. It’s now or never.

You briefly consider knocking, but if Negan is sleeping he won’t hear it, and surely won’t appreciate being rudely awaken. You’re waking him up either way, dumbass.

With another gentle sigh you turn the doorknob slowly, pushing the door open and stepping into the darkness of his room.

“Y/N?” his voice cuts through the silence.

“Negan. I didn’t think you’d be awake. It’s 3 in the morning.”

“Can’t sleep. What brings you here?”

“Can’t sleep.” You chuckle.

He switches the lamp on his bedside table on and pats the empty space in the bed next to him. It wasn’t uncommon for one of you to hop into the others bed at night to chat. You were basically best friends. Soulmates is more like it.

You sit down next to him, slipping your legs under the covers.

“What’s keepin’ ya up doll?” he says nudging your shoulder with his.

“Just a lot on my brain.” You shrug. Just say it Y/N! Tell him! “Uh I guess… well, uh, I-” he interrupts you by pulling you to him and crashing his lips into yours. It takes you a few seconds to realize what is happening and relax into the kiss, snaking your arms around the back of his neck and knotting your fingers into his hair. The hand he has resting on your check glides around to the back of your neck, while the other hand travels down to your waist to pull you in closer.

He pulls you over to sit astride his lap, letting out a soft groan when you roll your hips, making yourself comfortable on his lap, your lips never parting. One of his hands finds your hip, pulling your hips tight to his, while the other hand finds the tie on your robe.

You break apart from the kiss, foreheads pressed together, the room silent, except for your heavy breaths.

“Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” Negan mutters with a smirk as he pulls on the tie, loosening your rode and letting it fall from your shoulders. You slip your arms out of the material tossing it to the side. Your small hands find their way to his broad shoulders and it’s then that you realize that he isn’t wearing a shirt. 

Your eyes trail down his chest, your fingertips following suit, tracing curves through the dark hair, across to the skull tattoo, grazing over top of one nipple, then across to the other, finally pressing your hand flat in the center of his sternum.

“Negan…” you whisper, your lips millimeters away from each others.

“Shh Y/N. I know baby, I love you too.” You let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t know you were holding and press your lips to his gently. He breaks the kiss to trail more across your cheek to your ear, “I’ve loved you since the moment you gave me a key to the house, doll.” he whispers before trailing more kisses down your neck to your collarbone. He flattens his hands out along your sides, under your camisole and slides his hands up your rib cage, taking the garment with. You lift your arms up so that he can pull your top off and toss it aside with your robe.

His eyes lock in on your breasts for a moment before he bites his bottom lip and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Fuck, I could look at your tits all day.” he says pushing his hips up into yours, his sizable erection giving you delicious friction at your center. He opens his eyes, warm hazel eyes gazing into your (E/C) eyes, and maintains eye contact as he dips his head to place a kiss on your nipple. His hot tongue pokes out to trace circles around the hardened bud, causing it to harden further and you shiver.

He wraps his plump lips around your nipple, sucking hard, and you let out a gasp, arching your back and pushing your chest into him. He chuckles before giving the bud another soft kiss and moving over to the other to give it the same attention.

Your hands find their way back into his hair and you pull his face back up to yours to kiss him again, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth.

He pushes his pelvis up into yours again, and this time you roll your hips back, grinding your core into him, searching for that warm friction again. His arms come to wrap around your waist, one hand grabbing your ass, and you keep grinding your hips against his.

“Negan” you rasp “Please!”

“What do you need, baby?” he slurs with a dirty smirk. His fingertips trace the waistband of your pajama shorts teasingly.

“You. Now!” you whimper grinding your hips into his harder for emphasis.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He chuckles before gripping your hips and flipping you onto your back, leaving you breathless.

You wrap your arms around him, your hands exploring the strong muscles of his back as he dips in for another kiss. He grinds his erection into your core and moan softly into his mouth. He kisses his way down your body, leaving teasing licks and bites here and there, Dipping his tongue into your navel before leaving small kisses from one hipbone to the other along the waistband of your shorts.

“Mmm lets get rid of these.” he says as he pulls your shorts down your legs swiftly, leaving you only in your pale green cotton panties. He places a soft kiss to your mound through your panties and you arch your hips up into him. He trails a finger up and down your center slowly, grinning. “As cute as these are, they gotta go too doll.” He hooks his fingers into them and peels them down your legs achingly slow, sitting back on his heels.

He brushes his hands from your knees to your ankles, before wrapping his slender fingers around one ankle, lifting your leg to place a kiss to the bone there. Then trailing kisses up your calf and over your knee, stopping mid-thigh to move over to your other ankle and repeat his ministrations.

When he finally, and slowly makes his way to the top of your thigh, you’re nearly trembling with your desire for him. He places a feather-light kiss on your pubic bone, looking up at you as he drags a finger through your folds.

“So wet baby. You’re practically dripping for me.” he drops another kiss to the top of your mound “Can I taste you Y/N?” he says with a grin, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip before he sinks his teeth into it. You nod frantically, threading your fingers into his hair and arching your hips up towards him. “Don’t mind if I do.” He slurs before licking a long stripe from your sodden entrance to your swollen clit, swirling his tongue around it a few times.

He suctions his lips around you and slips a finger into your core, curling it upwards, and you suck in a sharp breath. He makes smooth circles around your clit with his tongue, while he presses a second finger into you.

When he picks up the pace; tongue flicking over your clit faster, and fingers pistoning in and out of your sodden center; you let out a low moan and your fingers tighten in his hair. He adds a third finger, angling them, so they hit that sweet spot, and that is your undoing.

“Oh god! Negan!” you cry out, your back arching, toes curling, and your body trembling in pleasant agony.

He kisses, licks and strokes you through your orgasm until your body’s trembling stills, then kisses his way back up your body, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Ready for round two doll?” he says with a cat-like grin, pressing his erection against your inner thigh.

“Yeah…” you hum, your hands exploring the expanse of muscle on his back and your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer.

He turns his attention to the swell of your breast, where he places a few kisses, then reaches down between the two of you to take his length into his hand and stroke himself a few times, before teasing his tip at your entrance. He teases the tip of his cock up and down your center, making you squirm, before dipping into your core smoothly and bottoming out.

You both let out a sigh at the feeling of him seated deep inside your heat. Your hands find their way to his shoulders as he leans down to kiss you deeply, and pulls out of you before thrusting back in at an achingly slow pace.

He slips his hand under one of your knees and pulls it up towards you so that the back of your knee rests in the crook of his elbow. This changes the angle, and he pushes into you deeper, hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and somehow you feel that familiar heat building again.

This slow, delicious torture goes on for a few more minutes before your body is shaking, wound so tightly like a rubber band ready to snap. But it’s not quite enough, you need something more.

“Negan!” you whimper. He presses his lips to your pulse point before locking eyes with you.

“What do you need baby?” he murmurs, his rhythm never faltering.

“I- I need… more! Faster please!” you grip his shoulders, hanging on for dear life, and he grins at you before gliding his fingertips from your hip to your ankle, pushing it towards you further and bringing your ankle to rest on his shoulder. He keeps eye contact with you as he sits back on his knees, strong hands gripping your hips, and fucks into you at a brutal pace. Your mouth drops open in a soundless cry and your back arches of the bed as you scramble for something to hold onto, something to keep you grounded. Your hand finds Negan’s on your hip, and he laces your fingers together tightly.

He brings his free hand to the center of your thighs, fingertips finding the little bundle of nerves there.

“Come on Y/N, give it to me. Come for me baby.” he grits out between thrusts, sweat beginning to bead at his temples.

His words are your undoing and you crumble beneath him, shattering into a million pieces. You cry out his name as your vision goes white, eyes squeezed shut tightly, and he follows close behind you, moaning your name as he stills above you, spilling white-hot ropes into you.

When you come down from the orgasmic high, your body feels like jello, and Negan collapses on top of you, your leg falling from his shoulder as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“Holy shit.” you whisper, combing your fingers through his now damp hair.

“Yeah, Holy shit doll.” he breathes into your neck, placing a kiss to your shoulder.

He rolls off of you and onto his back before pulling you into his chest and reaching over to switch the lamp off. He lets out a satisfied sigh as you cuddle into his side, head resting on his chest and one leg slung over his, and tightens his arm around you.

“Hey Negan?” you whisper into the darkness.

“Yeah doll?” he murmurs, stroking his fingers over your arm.

“Can I finish saying what I was trying to say earlier?”

“Yeah.” he chuckles, and even though it's dark, you can tell he’s wearing that signature smirk.

“I love you Negan. I really truly love you. I have for quite some time.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” he places a kiss to the top of your head.

“So what does this mean now?” you ask tracing patterns in the soft hair decorating his firm chest.

“It means, you’re fucking mine doll.” he growls squeezing you tighter.

You smile and lift your head up to kiss him, and get lost in his kisses until both of you are blissfully sleeping, tangled around each other like vines.

_______________________

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future works please let me know!

[thewhumperinwhite]

Guardian Angel, part 3

Part One // Part Two

Man this was a nightmare to write cause there are like a dozen great ending-line zingers and none of them happened at the end of the scene. Torturous!!!

TW for: panic attack, reanimated corpse, scars, mild internalized homophobia, mentions of murder and death.

@whumpitywhumpwhump (and hmu if you wanna get tagged in this cause There Will Be More)

----

Karim’s fingers are pressed against the front of the boy’s throat, and the boy is looking at him with gentle sorry eyes, and there is no pulse beneath Karim’ fingers.

Karim feels his own heart hammering in his chest, like it’s trying to beat hard enough for both of them.

The boy lowers his hand from Karim’s wrist and Karim snatches his hand back, staring at him. His face and neck feel prickly, alternately hot and cold, and he’s never been this kind of afraid before, like the world is unraveling into something different than he’s always thought it was.

“Why,” Karim says. His eyes are wide but he almost can’t see, like there’s a layer of TV static between him and the harsh yellow light filling the car. His voice sounds raspy and cracked in his own ears. “Why, why isn’t your— why isn’t your heart beating?”

“Y—es,” the dead boy, drawing out the ‘y’ sound, and his voice is too normal, it’s so normal it’s making Karim’s spine tingle and his fingers go numb because he wouldn’t dream a voice like that, not coming from this mangled bloodless corpse, which means this might be real, and he doesn’t know what to do with that. “Yeah, so. Uh.” The boy clears his throat, awkwardly. “So, um, a couple years ago—well, a couple years in the future, for you, I guess, that’s—fuck—shit this is hard.” He shakes his head—Karim sees the movement, thinks that’s what happens from the shifting colors, but he really can’t see, it’s like the car is starting to spin around him. “I didn’t have to explain this to you last time—oh.” The boy moves, shifting closer, his voice softening immediately. “Oh, fuck, baby—listen, it’s okay.”

He reaches out and brushes Karim’s cheek with his dry, cold fingers, and Karim jerks back so hard he topples back out of the passenger seat and smacks his head hard on the dashboard.

“...oh,” the dead boy says. Karim has squeezed his eyes shut and curled into a tight ball with his hand on the back of his head, though honestly the light sting where he just hit it is kind of a relief because at least he understands that.

“Put your head between your knees, honey,” the dead boy says, his voice supremely gentle; to Karim’s immense relief he hasn’t moved any closer. “I’m sorry, I—I know it’s a lot, I forget how, um. Just—Just put your head down— there, like that, and try not to hold your breath.”

The boy’s voice is so soft and reasonable that Karim follows its instructions almost automatically, curling up to tuck his head to his chest and gasping for breath, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his hands on either side of his face. He realizes suddenly that he’s shaking and has no idea how long that’s been the case.

“That’s it, dear,” the dead boy says soothingly. “That’s perfect.” Karim, just catching his breath, looks up at him doubtfully. It’s the second time the boy has called him “dear.”

“Who are you?” Karim says, sharply.

The dead boy meets his eyes, his face very serious.

What he says is, “My name is Art, Karim. In 2017 you’re going to save my life, but I’m here early, this time.” He reaches out and drops his hand on Karim’s shoulder, and Karim is too startled to pull back. “So I’m going to save you, instead.”

Karim gapes at him. “Save me? From what?”

“Okay,” the dead boy—Art—says, still staring into Karim’s eyes, pinning him with the sudden intensity of his gaze. “This—is going to sound completely nuts, but I’m gonna explain it as many times as it takes until you believe me.”

Karim stares at him, searching his filmy eyes for some reason to trust him, or not to. His eyes look—like maybe they were green, once. 

“There are—people, in the world,” the dead boy says, like he’s choosing his words very carefully. “Who are—who have—who have changed, until they’re... more, or, or less than human.” He raises his eyebrows a little, like he’s trying to gauge how Karim is taking this. Karim can’t help him because he has no idea how he’s taking it. The boy’s hand is still braced on Karim’s shoulder, and Karim is still letting it stay there, because he can’t feel the boy’s skin through his hoodie and the weight of it is reminding him that this is—probably—actually happening.

When Karim doesn’t respond—and he has no idea what his face is doing, either—the boy goes on. He’s sitting properly on the backseat now, facing Karim; his broken arm is still hanging at his side and his bad leg is—almost crossed under the other one, but not quite in the way a human leg should do that. 

“I’m—I was a human like you, but a few years—” He hesitates, makes a face, backtracks a little. “In 2019, I... died.” He looks away when he says that, just for a second, not really like it’s a lie but like he’s leaving a lot out. Karim feels a tremor run down his arm and start his hands shaking and shoves them in his sweatshirt’s pockets, afraid to drop the dead boy’s gaze. “I was dead for three days, give or take.” The boy drops his hand from Karim’s shoulder to gesture vaguely at himself. “Now I’m back but I’m, uh— there’s less of me. Than there was.” He looks back up at Karim, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a little half-smile. It’s—it’s a real person expression. Somehow it makes the panicked beat of Karim’s heart slow down, just a little.

“You with me so far, dear?” Art says, smiling.

Karim, wordlessly, shakes his head, and Art laughs a little, helplessly, and runs his good hand through his messy sandy hair.

“Yeah, that’s fair, actually. Look.”

He looks up at Karim, his hand still pushing his hair out of his face, and the thought rises utterly uninvited in Karim’s dumb useless brain that, dead and cracked-open or not, he’s very handsome.

“Here’s what really matters, for now, Karim,” the dead boy says seriously. “No matter what I am, I’m not going to hurt you. Not ever. I’m going to keep you safe.”

Karim stares at him. It’s an absurd thing to say. It’s an absurd thing to get his heart beating hard again, in a different way than before. “Why?”

Art blinks, like he’s surprised by the question.

“Because I love you,” he says, like it should be obvious.

Karim feels his mouth open and knows he must look very stupid but he can’t seem to close it.

“But I’m not gay,” he says stupidly when he can talk again.

Art blinks, and then he laughs his big pretty laugh again, rocking back in the seat, his broken arm flopping horribly back alongside him.

“Well, fine,” he says, with the crinkly-eyed smile from before, and Karim feels his face heat up immediately, “because that won’t be a going concern for me for another ten years, honey; you’re an absolute fucking fetus.”

Karim is definitely blushing now, his face all uncomfy and hot. “I’m not,” he snaps, “you’re not that much older than me—”

“Being brutally murdered ages you,” Art says, and he’s still laughing when he says it, raising his hand like he’s placating Karim, who immediately feels himself go cold.

“Ah,” Art says, letting his hand drift back down and looking away awkwardly. “I was, uh—gonna wait on that part, maybe.”

“Is—that what happened?” Karim croaks. Art really isn’t much older than he is, maybe a college student, but maybe still a senior. “Is that how you...?” He doesn’t say died, because he physically cannot, and he resists the urge to mouth it like a kid mouthing a bad word because he doesn’t wanna feel any more like a baby than he already does.

Art clears his throat awkwardly, scrubbing at the short hair on the back of his head. “Yeah,” he says softly, his voice a bit rough. “So, that’s part two, I guess. I’m a little less than I was, but there are people who are a little— more, than they used to be, and some of them, uh.” He shrugged. “You know.”

Killed you? Karim doesn’t say. He does stare at Art with his eyebrows raised very high which the dead boy seems to take the same way.

“It happens,” he says awkwardly. Which is an... insane way to talk about your own murder.

Karim... has so many questions he can’t narrow them down to just one, except apparently he can, because what he says is, “How?” which is the last question he actually wanted to ask. Surely that’s—rude, right, you don’t ask a person “Oh, how were you murdered,” that’s gotta be—

“Uh, here,” Art says, and he reaches out his hand, turning it palm up, letting the light hit his upper arm, throwing the pattern of marks there in sharp relief.

They’re clustered around his wrist, where the veins are visible only by shape and not by color: many sets of little circles, all in sets of two, like— snake bites, his brain suggests, and then it supplies helpfully, like fangs. “You can, uh.” Art clears his throat. He sounds— like he’s embarrassed and pretending not to be. “You can see the, um. Marks, still.”

Karim stares Art’s wrist, and his eyes travel involuntarily up the boy’s arm— there are more scars around his inner elbow, disappearing under his t-shirt sleeve, and then reappearing on both sides of his throat. Karim has no idea how many there are, though his still-panicky brain keeps wanting to count them, and he has to try hard to hold it back, until he looks back at the dead boy’s face and sees that he’s looking away, awkwardly, like it’s uncomfortable to be looked at.

Karim stares at him, feeling too many things to sort them all out, pity and confusion and a desperate effort at disbelief. He stares at the fang marks covering the dead boy’s throat, running the boy’s words forwards and backwards in his head to try to get them to mean something other than what he thinks they mean.

“‘More than they were.’ More than human,” Karim says plaintively, looking back at the boy’s pretty dead face. “Are you— I’m sorry. Are you saying there are— vampires?”

The dead boy blinks. Sits back slightly in the seat.

“Huh,” he says, mildly. “That was easier than I thought it’d be.”

[ajoblotofjunk]

DVD commentary for the July chapter of HFOG! or just the motorcycle ride if that’s too much lol

All of July is too much for me mentally right now so I’ll do the motorcycle ride. :D This got (unsurprisingly!!) long, so lemme put a Keep Reading cut in real quick.

A week later, on the off Sunday between Winterfell and Lannisport, Jaime was spending his birthday alone at the office.

I’ll do this whole section, since it being on his birthday was the trigger I used to get Jaime to ask her to go on the bike. This scene was one of like three I had in my head from pretty much the beginning. I find motorcycles extremely sexy (I’m an easy target okay) and I loved the idea of forcing these two knuckleheads into that much physical contact in what should theoretically be a platonic experience; I just had to figure out how to get them there since Brienne just spent the last part of June pushing Jaime back a step. Hard to say no to a lonely man on his birthday though.

going clubbing until they were both passed out or dead by the end of it. Bronn was home with Lollys, probably having enough sex to stock them up until August, and Jaime wasn’t really close enough with the rest of the crew to consider spending time with them outside of work.

I think this was the month where I decided Bronn was going to be genuinely happy with Lollys. I know I mentioned her early on but I toyed around in my head for awhile with the idea that he was still kind of loose and maybe even unfaithful to her, and I decided I didn’t want to go that way. I wanted to like Bronn in this fic. He’s kind of my Sarcastic Wise Elder character for these two and I really grew to love the idea that he is just as much an inner softie in his heart as Jaime is, that that sharp outer shell/gooey center combo was something that connected them. I think it really helped in the October chapter that Bronn was likable, because then that scene in the hospital between him and Jaime had a much bigger emotional hit.

The only other person he wanted to see was Brienne and though she’d sent him a ‘happy birthday!’ text that morning unprompted, he hadn’t responded for

I laugh to myself thinking about Brienne hovering over that text message all “should I send a gif? is the text going to be enough? what about emojis? Is it weird if I text him at all? He didn’t tell me it was his birthday but I definitely know it’s his birthday because I have memorized a lot of unimportant facts about a man I am Definitely Not Into.”

lunch, smoked what he swore was the only cigarette he would have as a thirty-six year old, and then aimlessly watched TV for a few hours before driving his motorcycle into the office.

Jaime uses smoking to fill the hole of the things he wants but believes he’ll never have. At the start of the fic that’s respect and winning races. As he slowly gets those things, he smokes whenever he’s thinking about Brienne, even though he does not realize it consciously. Once he gets all three, he stops smoking for good.

There had been a scattered handful of engineers there that afternoon, working away in preparation for the different requirements of Lannisport next week, but

Honestly, sometimes remembering there were hundreds of people working on this team in particular was exhausting. 😂 I always had this constant voice in the back of my head of Lannister Corp scenes of “where are all these other workers and what are they doing?” It works here because I needed the ride to happen at night, but this is just giving me flashbacks to “oh right this team is actually 500-1000 people, not just these 12.”

He raised his glass of water to his empty office. “Happy birthday to me,” he muttered, taking a sip. It wasn’t even flavored water, which felt like such a maudlin statement on his life that he couldn’t finish it.

The “it wasn’t even flavored water” line still makes me laugh to this day. It’s one of my favorite moments in the entire story. It’s so DRAMATIC. Like, my god man, get a hold of yourself. Anyway, I love drama queen Jaime.

He probably should have texted Taena or Melara, but he didn’t want to spend time with them. He didn’t want to listen to his sister’s barely concealed insults

I had a whole bit…I think it was in August? Might have been earlier, I can’t recall now, anyway, two or three paragraphs talking about how Jaime met Melara and Taena and why they all worked out this arrangement and Brynn (rightly) made the point that it didn’t actually add anything to the story I was telling. I managed to cover what really mattered about it in two sentences instead. The moral of this is that this story could have been even longer but Brynn is the best so you should thank her.

find out what she did on her off days, what kind of birthday cake she liked, if

Chocolate with chocolate and fruit filling and chocolate frosting, FYI.

Brienne’s worried frown deepened. “Have you done anything for your birthday today?”

“I had a cigarette.”

She shook her head, looking disappointed. “Anything that doesn’t shorten your life by doing it?”

I also really like this line. I’m a fan of Worried Mom Friend Brienne, too.

“I drank some water,” he grumbled.

Unflavored! Like an ANIMAL. 😂

“Have you even eaten?”

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”

She blinked, startled, and then a sheepish grin swarmed over her face. “I guess some things don’t change. At least you didn’t insult me this time.”

“Progress,” he said, smiling, watching her features go soft and open in a way he’d probably dream about that night. Distance, his brain reminded him.

I didn’t plan for this quiet callback to the sandwich conversation from January, but I really was pleased to see it happen. It makes sense; Brienne wants the people she cares about to take care of themselves and where back in January I think she felt she was being more his Mom, here they’re both aware she’s being his friend and that’s part of why it’s a softer moment.

“Then come riding with me. Have you been on a motorcycle before?”

“No. My dad was firmly against it after Galladon died.”

At this point in the fic I was pretty sure Brienne was going to drive although I hadn’t worked out all the details of how I was going to get there yet, but when I wrote this I definitely shored up the “Selwyn is very overprotective” support I’d only just started to build back with the phone call in January. I also knew when I wrote this that Jaime was going to bring the motorcycle to Tarth and her dad was going to be all about it, even though I wasn’t sure how that was going to happen. 

“Well,” he said, standing slowly, “your dad’s not here now, is he?”

Fun fact: this story idea first appeared to me in relation to Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m On Fire” and there’s a lyric in there - ‘hey little girl is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone’ - that this quietly references. And actually I wanted the whole motorcycle ride to have the exact same feeling when you’re reading it as I feel listening to that song! It’s a direct path from there to here emotionally.

(In some other universe instead of this I wrote a fic where Jaime keeps bringing his car in to Selwyn’s Garage just so he can see Brienne, grease smudged on her face, and he asks her to deliver it to his home and she does and, well. It doesn’t go like the video. *g*)

(That video and song were very formative influences on young me though I was not aware of it at the time. If you haven’t heard the song or seen the video, here you go: https://youtu.be/lrpXArn3hII)

Jaime arched an eyebrow. “My bike is plenty big.”

Brienne snorted but the red in her cheeks spread out to her crooked her nose and down the freckled length of her long neck. “Sounds like you’re compensating, Lannister.”

I could show you he thought but he bit it back, as well as the image of pushing her against the door of his office and- No. Bad. he told both his errant thoughts and his twitching cock like they were misbehaving dogs. 

Jaime has been horny for her since April (January though he would refuse to acknowledge it if you told him that at this point), give him a break.

He came around the desk and held out his hand and she stared down at it like it was a snake she was trying to decide was poisonous or not.

Brienne gingerly wrapped her long fingers around his

I wanted Brienne to actively participate in the decision to do this, to show through her actions (not just Jaime’s perceptions of her) that she wants this, too. I had to ramp things up for both of them in this chapter because I knew what was coming in August and I wanted them to be ready for that. I couldn’t have gone from where they were in June to the kiss in August, I had to force them together in a way they hadn’t intended so that when they come together intentionally it feels like a natural progressions, and that meant both of them had to be wanting it.

What are you doing? his brain demanded as he led Brienne through the empty corridors out to the front parking lot.

 Enjoying my birthday for once.

I like this because it’s both Jaime making excuses for why he’s doing something really foolish if he’s supposed to be keeping his distance but ALSO true and a sad reflection on his life (and what Brienne brings to it even now).

His bike was parked in Tywin’s CEO spot, where he always parked as a small, childish fuck you to his father. Brienne gasped as they walked up, pulling her hand away to brush the gleaming chrome.

“You have an Iron Throne!”

I know. I KNOW. But I love calling it that. I cast around for motorcycle names for awhile and when I hit on this I could not resist. Iron Thrones in this fic world are basically those giant Harleys that would easily seat two people.

weight of her against his palms. Brienne’s eyes narrowed and he worried for a second she’d heard his thoughts. “It’s not safe to ride without a helmet though, and I don’t have one. Do you have an extra?”

Jaime hadn’t brought his today, either. “We could wear driving helmets.”

As I recall it, Brynn came up with the idea of the helmet scene or at least definitely helped me work out how it was going to go when I got stuck on it. She made the point it should be a cute moment between them and it was right because it made the whole ride seem fun instead of just weighty and tense. The fact they actually have FUN together is really important to me because I think it’s really important to successful relationships in general. If you’re going to be with this person for the rest of you life, I hope like hell you enjoy spending time with them.

When she saw the helmet he had she laughed, the sound bursting up into the sky like a flock of startled birds.

I’m not usually happy with how I describe things - I never feel like it’s as interesting or descriptive or powerful as I want - but I do like this line a lot.

“It’s a helmet,” he said, holding it out to her. The helmet was a bright neon green and covered with frogs forming the words MOAT CAILIN with their bodies. “I got it from one of our sponsors a few years ago and kept it thinking someday I’d wear it just to piss off my father.”

What does Moat Cailin do? I genuinely have no idea. 😂

Brienne took the helmet and held it out away from her like it was a very stinky baby. “You’re sure no one is going to see us?”

“Now who’s vain?”

This made me laugh. I love when Brienne gets to be light-hearted.

“Isn’t there some biker lingo you should use instead?”

“Hop on my hog, sexy mama?”

Goofy Jaime: also a personal favorite. This is kind of an early insight into how he’s going to be in later months when he’s truly, unburdenedly (I made that word up) happy.

Brienne laughed even harder that time and shook her head. “You are so annoying,” she said fondly, climbing on behind him.

The “you’re annoying”/”you’re stubborn” back and forth is something I have been trying to consistently but not overwhelmingly carry through this fic from very early on.

“Since you’ve never ridden before, the primary rule is that you have to lean into the curves with me. If you’re balanced differently than I am it might bring the whole bike down.

Having ridden a motorcycle: this is actually true. It was the first thing the person I was riding with told me.

Her arms fully encircled his waist, her body pressed so firmly against his back he imagined he could feel the weight of her small breasts through his own shirt. He had no jacket but he didn’t need one; even if it hadn’t been for the drowsy summer heat, Brienne’s warmth against him stoked enough fire he could have burned all night.

You shouldn’t ride a motorcyle without proper gear, kids, but Jaime doesn’t give a fuck and for the purpose of this kind of intimate contact, neither do I for this story. 😁

It was almost like sex, the way they moved together around the curves, the blood thrumming in his veins, her occasional breathless gasp. He had to shift a little on his seat to make room for his awkward erection, but he pressed the bike faster, the curves tighter, until she was welded against him and the wind whipped her joyful laughter from her mouth, leaving it like tracers behind them in the dark. 

This is the image in my head when I thought of them on the motorcycle ride. Everything before and after this paragraph is just set up and pay off for this one part.

Centuries ago there had been a keep at the top of Aegon’s High Hill, but all that was left now were old stones weathered by time and the salt air off of Blackwater Bay.

Thank goodness for the internet, and people who post very detailed maps of King’s Landing and Westeros so I can figure out some of this stuff. I have spent a surprising amount of time for this fic looking at maps.

“Why were you at work today?” he asked, staring at her.

Brienne pulled off her hoodie to reveal a tank top underneath, her muscular shoulders bunching as she did so in a way that made his mouth go dry.

There’s a gif that was being posted in the Oathkeepers discord around the time I was writing this that I had in mind explicitly for this moment. 😄

Her skin seemed to absorb the light, making it white and smooth as milkglass, her freckles mirroring the infinite stars. “Truthfully,” she said, “I wanted to spend some time alone with the car.” Even in the moonlight the reddening of her pale cheeks was clear.

Survey says: Mostly true. She also was thinking of him, since it was his birthday. She genuinely did NOT expect him to be there, though.

Jaime walked to the edge of the flat gravel and stared across the Rush to roughly where he thought Tarth would be way down south in the Stormlands. It had been years since he’d been and he didn’t remember it well, but he wished he could so he could picture Brienne there.

Again, I knew he was going to be in Tarth the very next chapter, so I wanted to lay the groundwork for it to seem natural he would be. Bringing it up here was a perfect opportunity for that.

They put their helmets back on, and Brienne her hoodie, and she climbed on behind him again, her arms automatically curling around his waist this time instead of the distant grip of the start. He started the engine and leaned forward a little, and she leaned her head against his shoulder as they took the drive down more slowly.

This easy warmth was important, too. Again, the sexual tension is critical to get them to their breaking point because they’re sure as hell not going to talk about how much they care about each other first (or even for a long while after they start having sex, as we discover), but I wanted there to be something deeper to their bond, too, a connection that I could build on in the second half of the story where you believe they’ll be happy together as an established couple. That they’re comfortable together.

The trip down the hill was as solemn as the stars above and when he parked again in front of the Lannister Corp Racing offices Brienne took her helmet off and stared quietly at him when he remained seated, his visor pushed up.

I think subconsciously this is when Brienne really falls in love with him, because it’s just Jaime being Jaime, and sharing something important to him with her and that kind of openness is the key to her heart.

Sadness gleamed like the stars in her big twilight eyes. Brienne put a hand on his shoulder and his whole body went rigid under her touch. Her fingers crept to the nape of his neck under his helmet, softly brushed through the short hair there before she dragged them away again as her pale skin reddened. 

Brienne was more reserved here in the initial draft of this and Brynn thought there should be more and she was - as usual - absolutely right. So the touch was added to fully seal the momentous connection that happened here.

“You can get home okay?” he asked.

“I’ll take the bus, there’s a stop just by the sports bar.”

Brienne the Bus Rider strikes again. Hee.

He couldn’t even quit smoking; how was he ever going to quit wanting Brienne?

These two things are connected here for a reason! As noted above. Hee.

Wow this was fun for me, thank you for asking! 😊

[DVD Commentary Meme - Asks are open]

[killerqueenmachine]

Hello! I absolutely adore your writing and I was wondering if I could make a request? Brian and the reader being intimate with each other for the first time, passionate and loving smut, if it isn’t too much to ask for? Thank you, hope you have an amazing day!! 💞

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words and thank you for making this request! I hope this is what you wanted 💝 I’m imagining this is like.. The early/mid 70s.

Also this “little requested blurb” turned out to be just shy of 2k words.. so theres that. 

_____________ 

“I love you so much” you whimpered against Brian’s lips as you pulled away from a kiss.

He softly moaned in response, snaking his hand around your waist to pull your body even closer to his. You gave in to his touch and completely melted into him. He gave your waist another squeeze which made your hands make their way up to his torso so you could place the palm of your hands against his chest, in an effort to create a bit of space between the two of you.

“Are you okay?” he asked while his lips were still faintly brushing over yours.

You felt great. More than great, actually. But the intimacy of this moment seemed to scare you just a little bit. You and Brian had never been intimate before. Sure, you had had your fair share of make-out sessions but it had never gone further than that. Simply because you didn’t want to rush it. At this point, you had been dating for almost six weeks and the sexual tension between you was at an all-time high.

“Uh, I’m… Yeah, sure. I’m okay” you stumbled through your words and gently pushed Brian a little further away from you, even though it hurt you to do so.

“Did I do something wrong?” his voice was fragile and you could see the concern in his face as he slowly took a step back and completely removed his hands from your body.

“N-no. Brian… I don’t know… I’m just nervous, I guess” you whispered as your eyes darted to the ground.

“Yeah… Yeah, me too” he said and dumped down on the couch behind him.

Your heart fluttered at his words. It felt nice to know, that he was nervous about taking your relationship to the next step too. You were sure that he wasn’t a virgin and neither were you, you had had that conversation a night where you had had a few too many glasses of wine. The possibilities of where this conversation could head now started to wash through your brain. You could either shrug it off, laugh and leave. Or finally, do something about it. Take that final step.

“You know what… Screw it” you said and walked over to stand right in front of Brian.

“Huh?” Brian just managed to lift his head to look at you before you grabbed his hands, pulling on them, silently asking him to stand up.

On his way up from the couch you pulled him closer to you, causing him to tumble forward and almost knocking both of you over.

“Please Brian” you whined against his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close to you.

He gently placed a finger under your chin, lifting your head to look at him. Adoration and love beamed out of his eyes as he bent down just a little to softly press his lips to yours.

Without a word he slid his hand down your arm and intertwined his fingers with yours, guiding you to his bedroom. You followed suit and took a long stride to get closer to him, wrapping your free arm around the arm that was holding your hand.

“Are you sure?” his voice was soft as he started to lead you towards the bedroom.

You stopped in your tracks, forcing Brian to stop too. He turned around to face you and the expression on his face clearly showed lust and worry. You softened your look and took a slow step closer to him, closing the space between you, before you gently placed your hand on his cheek, pulling him in for a soft kiss.

“I think the only time I’ve ever been surer on anything in my life, was when I said agreed to be your girlfriend” you giggled against his lips before pulling away just a little, to make it easier for you to obtain eye contact.

He softly huffed at your response and placed another gentle kiss to your lips before opening the door to the bedroom, leading you inside and silently coaxing you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’ve been thinking about this for way too long” he softly admitted as he slowly got on his knees between your legs.

“Uh, about what?” you said, trying to make a joke as you swiftly closed your legs.

Brian instantly turned pale and backed away from you, looking absolutely mortified.

“I- I thought… Oh my God I’m so sorry, I-” he rambled with a shaky voice

You started laughing and leaned forward to pull Brian back.

“I’m taking the piss. I’ve been wanting this for so long too!” you assured him and to further empathize your words, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and quickly pulled it off and threw it away.

“Oh.. You can’t just do something like that to me!” Brian huffed, slowly gaining a little colour back in his face.

You both laughed it off before Brian finally gained enough confidence to shuffle back in between your legs, softly tapping your hip, signaling for you to lift your body off the bed, so he could remove your trousers. You did as he silently asked, and the second your trousers were off he leaned forwards and pressed a few soft kisses to your inner thigh, looking up through his eyelashes to make sure, he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries.

His lips slowly made their way up to your thigh before ghosting over your aching heat. His hot breath against your heat made you whine and wanting to clench your legs together, but Brian simply wouldn’t let you. Instead, a soft chuckle left his throat.

“What do you want, baby?” he softly asked, slowly letting his fingers dance over your hip, every now and again gripping the elastic band of your panties.

You whined in response, bucking your hips into his touch, hoping that that would be enough answer for him. Of course, it wasn’t.

“Please use your words baby, I need to be sure this is what you want” he smirked against your thigh, pressing a kiss just beside your panty line.

“Bri-ah-an! Oh, I want you so bad. Please touch me. I want all of you. Please! I’m ready” you whined, tangling your fingers into his fluffy curls, gently pressing him against your body.

You felt him huff against you with a smirk, but it seemed to be enough answer for him. He slid his fingers into your panties and pulled them off you. To even out the clothing situation between the two of you he pulled off his t-shirt too, before diving into your heat.

As his lips make contact with your cunt you hissed and threw your head back. It had been so long since you had been intimate with anyone and to have Brian down there for the first time, feeling how he went about it, was amazing.

He was licking, sucking and nibbling away at your heat making a symphony of whines, moans, and whimpers fly out of your mouth. At a particular whiny moan, you felt him smirk against your skin, sucking on your clit just a little harder to let you know how much he appreciated your sounds.

“Fing-fingers Brian.. Please, I want your fingers” you begged, tugging on his hair just a little harder.

He quickly complied to your prayer and placed his middle finger right at your entrance, ever so softly drawing circles, barely pushing inside. You bucked against him, forcing him to slide the finger in which caused you to whimper.

He slowly pumped his finger in and out for a little while before adding another finger and repeating this motion. He didn’t let this go on for too long before he curled his fingers upwards, searching for your g-spot. Even with his incredibly talented fingers, it took him a while before he finally struck something within you that made you gasp and clench around his long digits.

“Oh, that’s a good spot, yeah?” Brian laughed, as he continued to brush his fingers over it.

You groaned in response, pressing his head back down to make him know, that you wanted his mouth to continue what it had been doing.

“I’m so close Brian, please… Just a little mo-oh-ore!” you whined.

Brian, however, had no intention of letting you finish on his fingers. So instead he moved away from you completely, causing you to whine and squirm in protest.

“I want to be in you,” he said, his voice sultrier than ever as he kissed his way up your body.

“Let me blow you first, yeah?” you replied while unclasping your bra and trying to squirm away from underneath him.

“Nope,” he said, popping the p just a little. “That is unless you want me to cum before I even get to feel that lovely little cunt of yours around my cock” he whispered against the shell of your ear before popping the button on his jeans and shimming out of them.

You softly giggled in response, running your hands up and down his back, scratching him just a little bit. He finally made his way out of his underwear and reached over you to fetch a condom from the bedside drawer.

You kept your eyes locked in on his face, watching him intently while he fiddled with both his clothes and the condom.

“I love you”. It seemed to just burst out of you like you absolutely couldn’t hold it in any longer.

He lined his cock up with your entrance before leaning down and kissing you.

“I love you too, my love. I love you so much! Are you ready for this?” he asked you, searching for any kind of regret or nervousness in your eyes.

“I’m ready. Oh God, Brian please just-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Brian slowly thrusted into you, filling you up as you had never felt it before. Not that he was that much bigger than anyone else you had been with before, but the sheer power of how much you loved him made your senses heighten to a point where everything he did felt unbelievable.

“Oh.. God!” he moaned once he bottomed out and stilled for just a few seconds before pulling back out, to thrust back in.

You grabbed on to his shoulders and moaned as he picked up the pace. Neither of you spoke much, except for whines and incoherent words. Your hands roamed over every inch of his body that you could reach, every now and again finding their way on to his face, to pull him closer for a kiss, while he thrusted into you.

“Mh- love you” he whined, thrusting into you just a little harder.

You whined and moved your hand down between your bodies to rub your aching clit. Your orgasm was so close, it wouldn’t take you long to tip right over, once your clit got the attention it needed.

“Brian please tell me you’re close” you hummed before pressing a kiss to his face.

“Yes-yes! God, yes! I’m so close, please yes” he whined, messily thrusting into you. His pace was completely thrown off.

You applied just a little more pressure to your clit which immediately tipped you over the edge. You threw your head further back into the pillow and a high-pitched whine escaped your throat as you felt your orgasm wash through you. Your walls clenched around Brian’s cock, which was the last bit he needed to achieve his orgasm.

A deep throaty moan sounded from him as he spilled into the condom and stilled deep inside you, letting the last pulses of his orgasm wash over him. He stayed inside you for just a little while before finally pulling out of you and disposing of the condom.

Without any of you saying anything you slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom to clean up just a bit, before throwing on a fresh pair of panties and getting back to the bedroom to find Brian underneath the covers, almost asleep.

“Are you still awake, baby?” you softly asked as you wriggled down under the cover.

“Mmh” he hummed, clearly fighting to stay awake.

“Good. I just wanted to say that I love you” you laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his nose.

“I love you too. I love you so much and.. Mm” his voice was groggy and he was clearly more asleep than awake at this point.

You softly laughed at his adorable mumbling before shuffling closer to him and wrapping your arms around his torso, rutting your front against his back spooning him and holding him close to you.

You felt him relax in your arms as you pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder.

_________________TAGLIST JUST FOR THIS BLURB: @bubblypenguin123, @drivenbybri 💝

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Well I’d love a ... gloomy, maybe a little sexy(?) first kiss/ making out one shot with Loki😀 I’m just picturing them alone while the other avengers are sleeping, room dark and only lit by the lights outside. Idk if you know what I mean 😄him towering over the reader, making them nervous. Please do your magic 😄💓🤟🏻 There were a lot of people to meet Pom and only 30 Minutes 😅🤷🏻‍♀️

Little Mouse

Sleep is lost on you tonight.

However dramatic you might want it to seem but you know it's because of the espresso shot you had before your workout with Natasha in the evening.

Didn't even workout as much as you had that ugly poison go down your throat. Blech!

Turning over your bed only accumulates the frustration inside you before you sit up and grit your teeth at your own stupidity and punch your pillow.

"I'm never having that tasteless poison again," you grunt, your feet landing on the cold floor and walking across the space to open the door and walk out the room to find something that can take your mind off this self-inflicted madness.

The resident wing of the Avengers facility is silent at night with Friday guiding the dry-throats and sleep-walking souls with dim corridor lights to their destination while the soothing compound lights outside marked for the different pets everyone hides from Tony mark the green belt, walking strip and the driveway.

The lounge is barely lit in one corner when you cross it to the kitchenette to get yourself some orange juice and a bag of microwave-popcorn.

Might as well watch a movie I guess. Gosh! How does Mr Stark do it all the time?

"Y/N?"

Now as much as you love horror movies, you have openly admitted time and again about how easily you get scared and just like the monkey brains all humans are, they keep repeating the part of calling out your name through the eerie silence in the dead of the night with your back turned to them.

"Holy shh-irt balls! Peter how many TIMES!"

You turn around and watch him sitting on the dining table at the opposite end right where you'd come from. He responds with a guilt-ridden face while apologising.

"It's-" he looks down at his watch- "one-thirty. Shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

Pouring out the juice in your Brooklyn Nine-Nine themed mug instead of glass gets a raised brow form Peter before he sighs and mutters 'mood'.

"I could ask you the same thing."

He snorts his tiredness.

"I've been studying for my terms. It's all too much and my brain is turning to goo. If I don't get a good grade aunt May won't let me do the nightly neighborhood rounds anymore and Mr Stark will-"

"Definitely find out you went on the Blueberry mission," you both speak in unison.

Picking up the bowl and mug you walk over to the lounge and set them down on the coffee table.

"Come on, take a break. Watch a movie with me or take a nap. Worrying about it won't solve anyth-"

With the purpose of just diving into the fluffy sofa you let your butt free fall and feel it make impact with something cold and nothing like the material your butt is used to.

"What in the nine Kingdoms-"

The inner reflex forces you to stand back up- quite clumsily- watch the unfamiliarly Godlike figure of Loki sprawled on the sofa with a book in his hand, his eyes looking up at you with hot showers of pure judgement while his face does not bother to hide the disgruntled look on seeing you.

"Are you kidding me?" You spew flat in the God's face. "You do know there are colours other than black in this world, Loki. So that people don't mistake you for a couch."

The frustration increases tenfold inside your fully awake brain when Loki chooses to completely ignore you and go back to his book.

And you being the alleged daughter of the most stubborn person you've known, still decide to sit down right there.

"Scooch, black adder," you mutter as you wiggle your butt to dominate the space and bury yourself in the comfort of the sofa, finding your body's heat being siphoned off my Loki's a bit nice.

"Now," you hear Loki speak with a soft husk in his voice, "would you really like to sit so close to a snake?"

A slam of a book and Peter is standing up from the table. "Yup, I'm out. Off to sleep," he announces, walking away as he mutters, "I have read too many Merlin fanfics to know exactly where this is going."

Taking one cooked kernel and popping it in your mouth, you turn to face Loki. "I've been sleeping in the bedroom next to this snake every night, darling," you coo, this time taking a handful of popcorn and shoving it into your mouth as nearly half of them miss the target, "I thnnk hss fnngss rrr ffkk."

You know he has understood what gibberish just poured out of your mouth as you feel the surprisingly hard body shift behind you and sit up.

Ooh, I think I just poked the snake.

"This snake," his breathe right next to your ear plays the chords inside you with the tunes that are a bit too ethereal for your body to contemplate, "can slither through crevices you cannot even imagine, my sweet one."

Sweet mother of all things named pleasure.

Your teeth dig into your cheek to compose yourself as you dare to turn towards the shockingly magnificent green eyes looking at you with a vast of void in the middle.

"If by cervices," you whisper, your eyes looking up in some deep thought, "you mean the vents that you still don't know how to maneuver like Clint, I'd say yes, you're right. I cannot imagine. Ever."

The chuckle originating from your throat makes you throw your head back victoriously, never realising how the God sits there, stunned by the innocence dripping so shamelessly into the air. He wants you to be more careful around him, and yet he does not realise the lines he keeps crossing whenever he watches you so carefree in his company.

With one resolute thought in his mind, Loki moves quickly from behind you, forcing you down on the sofa while his own body towers over you as he his arms have now made a temporary lock on your either side while his wild hair teases your cheeks, reminding you with every passing second who you're dealing with.

"You're clearly forgetting snakes do not let their prey go away that easily."

The mischief glints in his eyes as it does on his lips which have risen from their favourite corner.

What this powerful being does not realise in time is that glimmer in your eyes as they land on his lips, the voids surrounded by the galactic y/e/c grow darker the further they take in his face.

"Well," he hears you sigh while feeling a twitch as your heated finger raises his chin, "as long as the prey isn't left disappointed..." You leave the words hanging in the air with a shrug and a smirk.

Now the lines between his furrowed brows look at you with a suspicious glare as you bite down your lip, raising his urge to simply wash away the lines holding him back.

"So..." He speaks slowly and softly as he balances his weight on his arms to let himself a little close to you, "will the prey like it if I...do this?"

All the giddy mischief bubbling inside you turns to rock and blows away in the wind the moment you feel his head dip down, his breath raising the sleeping tiny hairs on your exposed collar while his nose teases the nook between your shoulder and neck, wringing every muscle inside your body into one big ball of unexpected mush, never bring aware of the tiniest squeak of whimper that leaves your lips, catching the ears of the beasts quicker than wind.

"Did you say something?" Loki asks, masking his victory with plainness.

"Ahem-hm? N-no. Nothing."

"Really?" He mutters, his nose driving further up your neck, killing you slowly as every cell lit up in path, sending the reverberations down to your core, his breaths not helping at all when your leg is halfway to wrapping itself around Loki's thigh.

"You both do realise you have a room."

The third voice out of nowhere freezes the both of you.

Bucky, half asleep, brows furrowed, hair a mess, tired as he is, looking at the duo with utter confusion in his eyes. "You have two rooms."

Loki gets up, giving you room to sit up and let him plant himself next to you. He gives Bucky a 'you wanted something?' look, driving him to the kitchenette for a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

You sit there, playing with your fingers and hair, your heated face not knowing how to face Bucky- or Loki, for that matter.

Just as Bucky disappears around the corner, you pat away some invisible dust from your thighs. "I...I should go sleep."

You don't know why you sit there for the next five seconds till you feel coldness erupt like little flowers of the night blooming on your cheek.

"Goodnight, little mouse."

You don't face him.

You can't.

The unspeakable joy at what just happened shuts everything down, only letting you get up, walk down the corridor, open the door to your room, close it behind you, walk to the bed and throw your yourself over the bed, grabbing every single pillow on your bed to bring them all near your face as you bury yourself in them to scream something inaudible to the ears across the walls who want to know everything, making them chuckle with unadulterated joy.

[artificialqueens]

Asses to asses, dust to dust (branjie) - writworm42

A/N: for @sohytes and @barbiehytes. I’m not even sorry for the title. Thank you thank you thank you Holtz for beta-ing, ily <3

They start having sex about two months into their relationship. To most of Vanessa’s friends, it’s shockingly late, and maybe it is–Brooke hasn’t ever waited that long, a fact she admits to Vanessa with a flushed face and downcast eyes when Vanessa tells her she wants to take things slow. But for Vanessa, the two months is crucial. It lets her know what her partner is like, lets her feel out their energy and compatibility before she gets fully invested.

Needless to say, the wait feels longer than ever with Brooke, and when Brooke finally eases Vanessa back on her bed and strips off every article of clothing at a painstakingly slow pace, she’s so relieved that she can hardly keep herself from squirming. Not that she has much of a choice–Brooke pins Vanessa to the mattress, nips her neck, sucks her nipples until she thinks she’ll come just from that sensation. She eats Vanessa out for what seems like far too short a time, licking her through to a second orgasm and practically grinning against Vanessa’s pussy when she slips two fingers inside it for a third. It’s enough to make Vanessa torn between cursing herself for her rule and thanking God for the buildup it’s caused. But the inner conflict resolves itself when she flips Brooke over onto her back, reducing the blonde’s quick mouth to a mess of incoherent babbling, begging, and whimpering with just a few quick circles of her clit and three fingers pumping in and out of her cunt.

Vanessa could listen to Brooke moan all day, and it’s when Brooke cries out Vanessa’s name during her climax that she decides she won’t need the two month rule anymore, because she never intends to let Brooke go.

When they’re finished, and have finally had enough of holding onto each other, their breaths heavy and bodies warm, Brooke peels herself away, declaring that she’s going to shower quickly, but that Vanessa is welcome to stay.

Of course Vanessa takes her up on the offer; after all, she’s too busy playing with herself while thinking about Brooke lathering herself up to get up and go, anyway. It’s only when Brooke comes out of the shower, though, that Vanessa realizes there’s something she’d been missing the entire time.

Brooke turns away from Vanessa to grab some underwear from her drawer, dropping her towel as she does, and Vanessa’s brain nearly drops out of her pussy.

Brooke’s ass is–well, to put it bluntly, it’s definitely the best ass Vanessa has ever seen, beyond words or description. Just looking at it, Vanessa’s mesmerized, her entire body buzzing as thoughts about holding it, spanking it, and putting her mouth on it take over her mind.

“What?” Brooke smirks as she pulls a thong over her hips then crawls back onto the bed to give Vanessa a kiss, jerking Vanessa from her fantasy.

“Nothing.” Vanessa lies, hoping that Brooke doesn’t notice how hot her face is growing but almost certain that the older woman does.

She thinks about Brooke’s ass for the rest of the day, the feeling of it in soft and smooth in her hand during round two lingering on her palm as she drives home.

–

Vanessa’s ass is without a doubt the most tantalizing thing about her, and that’s saying something. Brooke had always been a bit of an ass woman, but Vanessa’s takes the cake, soft and round and just big enough for Brooke to squeeze and hold and dream about any time she lets her thoughts wander just a little too long.

So it’s the perfect ego boost, really, when Brooke catches Vanessa practically drooling at her ass after she’s come out of the shower.

How could she resist slipping on the skimpiest thong she owned and wiggling her ass just a little extra to tempt Vanessa into grabbing her and spanking her just right?

And, for that matter, how could she resist repaying the favour?

“D’you mind if I slip my hand into your back pocket?” Brooke whispers into Vanessa’s ear one day as they roam through the local mall, her hand already hovering near its desired destination. Vanessa shakes her head, and Brooke giggles a little as she slips her hand home, squeezing a little just to tease her girlfriend, watch as her face flushes scarlet at the sensation.

“Naughty girl.” Brooke tuts under her breath when Vanessa squeaks a little the next time Brooke does it, withdrawing her hand quickly and giving Vanessa’s ass a gentle tap. “You like it a little too much when I play with your ass like that, huh?”

“I swear to God, Brooke, keep doin’ that and you’re gonna get it when we get back to my place.”

It’s an invitation, not a threat, and Brooke takes Vanessa up on it all too many times, squeezing and grabbing and subtly brushing, before they finally rush out of the mall together, Vanessa’s grip firm on Brooke’s wrist.

Vanessa wastes no time in pushing Brooke onto the bed and flipping her over when they get home, worshipping every inch of Brooke’s ass and lapping at her hole so thoroughly that Brooke is convinced that she never wants to do anything else again.

–

They move in together about a year later, and it’s one month past their second anniversary that Vanessa notices that all her underwear has gone missing.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s happened, but Vanessa has nowhere to be that morning, so she decides it’s worth her while to play along.

“Babe, you seen my underwear?” Vanessa calls out to the kitchen, rolling her eyes when she gets nothing but poorly-suppressed giggles back.

“Nope!” Brooke calls back, “Did you check the laundry?”

“Oh, you’re right, no I didn– For literally every pair of underwear I own?” she reels out of the bedroom, turning a hard glare towards the woman waiting for her in the kitchen. Brooke’s grin is smug and wicked, and Vanessa resolves right then and there to take matters into her own hands and wipe the expression off of Brooke’s face.

“You took them, didn’t you?” she accuses pointedly, forcing an angry expression on her face despite the excitement she can feel snaking its way down between her legs.

“Me? Take all your underwear so you can’t wear any all day?” Brooke gasps, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “No, only a pervert would do that!”

“An’ I’m lookin’ right at one.” Vanessa narrows her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Admit to it and tell me where they are, an’ I’ll go easy on you, otherwise, I got ways of makin’ you talk, Mary.”

“Mm, no, I think I’d rather see you exposed all day.” Brooke shrugs, her eyes shining with mischief, and that’s when Vanessa decides she can’t wait anymore.

“Bedroom, now .” she commands, and Brooke follows with a spring in her step, no doubt already trying to guess where things are about to go. But Vanessa has always loved surprising Brooke, so she decides against a traditional route, instead forcing Brooke to bend over the bed and then taking a step back to weigh her options.

“You love it when I play with that ass, huh?” she looks Brooke up and down critically, a plan slowly forming in her mind as she does so. “That’s what you wanted from this whole thing, too, ain’t it?”

“Yes, mommy.” Brooke breathes, wiggling her ass as if to tempt Vanessa into caving already. But Brooke already knows better, Vanessa knows she does, and so she feels no guilt in reaching forward and slipping her hand between the blonde’s already-spread legs, skipping her ass altogether to tease along her slit through her jeans. Just enough to tease, not enough to please; Vanessa used to get impatient with that balance, but she’s learned well enough by now that drawing out Brooke’s pleasure only increases her own later.

“Well, you’re not gonna get it.” Vanessa withdraws her hand suddenly, instead latching on to Brooke’s hair before shoving her face down into the mattress.

“Listen carefully, sweetheart,” she leans down to whisper in Brooke’s ear, “You’re gonna tell me where you put my underwear, or I’m going to spank your ass so hard I can’t touch it for the next month, then I’m gonna put you on edge-only for twice that time. You understand me, princess?”

“It’s in my suitcase, mommy, the one we keep in the front closet.” Brooke whines, gasping with relief when Vanessa lets go of her hair in response.

“Good girl.” Vanessa coos, slapping Brooke’s ass as a little reward, a marker of what’s to come next. “See how much easier it is when you coboporate?”

Brooke snorts, and Vanessa rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean, bitch. Now,” she continues, sliding back into domspace as quickly as she had almost fallen out of it, “There’s still the matter of your punishment. Can’t let you get away with trickin’ me, now, can I?”

“No, mommy.” Brooke shakes her head, earning another spank, a little harder this time, closer to the level of impact Vanessa knows Brooke likes.

“That’s right, we can’t.” Vanessa lands another slap, smiling when Brooke moans at the impact. “So here’s how it’s going to go down.” another hit, another moan, and Vanessa can hardly contain her own excitement as she continues, “You wanted to worship my ass today, you gonna worship it, and if you do it right, then I’ll take our strap–the nice, big, long one, that’s right sweetheart–an’ destroy that tight little hole of yours until you come so many times it hurts.”

Brooke mewls at the next spank, and Vanessa can’t help but snicker to herself, her heart melting just a little despite the persona she’s trying so hard to keep up. She loves this, loves turning Brooke into a mindless puddle beneath her, loves being able to make Brooke so needy for her hands, her tongue, her strap, that everything else melts away.

“Alright, sweetheart, why don’t we get started?”

–

Brooke takes her time to work her way down Vanessa’s body, kissing and nipping and stroking until Vanessa is squirming and gasping, trembling on the edge of impatience. She bites at the flesh of Vanessa’s ass, reminding her to stay still. It’s a shame, really–Brooke loves making Vanessa gasp underneath her, but at the same time, there’s nothing hotter than watching Vanessa try to keep herself together when Brooke can tell that she’s incredibly close to falling apart.

“So pretty, mommy.” Brooke smirks, bringing a hand up to knead at Vanessa’s other cheek as she continues to kiss her way over her ass, towards her hole. “Just the prettiest, most amazing ass.”

She smacks Vanessa’s ass suddenly, feeling a surge of arousal run through her body when Vanessa lets out a sinful moan.

“You like that, mommy?” Brooke asks innocently, slapping Vanessa’s ass again, listening to that absolutely delicious moan again.

“You know I do.” Vanessa grunts.

“Good.” without further ado, Brooke squeezes Vanessa’s cheeks together before spreading them apart, trailing her tongue towards Vanessa’s hole. Within minutes of her flicking her tongue over Vanessa’s hole, swirling it in circles and every so often dipping the tip of her tongue into it, Vanessa’s moans have become short, high-pitched whimpers, and then they choke off, nothing but huffs of air coming out of her mouth before she goes rigid, screaming silently as she comes.

“You good?” Brooke teases after Vanessa’s come down from her orgasm. Vanessa nods, panting hard in an attempt to catch her breath. Brooke giggles, moving up towards where Vanessa lays and wiping her mouth.

“I’ll give you a second, then.” Brooke continues, tracing Vanessa’s stomach with a single finger, “Catch your breath, then why don’t you get that strap and do what you promised?”

Vanessa rockets up almost instantly, rushing over to their bedside table to grab everything necessary for the task at hand.

“Turn over, let me see that ass.”

Brooke shivers with excitement as she watches Vanessa shimmy into the strap, slide on a condom, and begin to lube herself up, smiling with an almost wicked grin as she does.

It’s going to be a long night, but with Vanessa, that’s never a bad thing.

[idwalkthroughfireforharry]

{Harry Styles} - What Makes You Beautiful - Blurb - Cartoonist!Y/n + Assistant!Harry

Hey guys! I am new to this whole thing and I hope you like this. I bet other people have done this but I am making Harry blurbs based on the 1d songs and I am trying to go in order. I feel like my writing is low key bad but lmao. Gotta plug my ig real quick --> follow @/harrywithhumans on ig!!! Also I might post these on wattpad too IDK. Anyways, if you read this I LOVE YOU

1.2k words

Warnings: angst, alcoholism, sadness, undercover fluff

Her cartoons were the finest in the San Fran area. People of all ages, all shapes, all colors, loved her cartoons. The whole situation was quite rare. In modern times, people tended to stray away from newspapers and physical copies and were hyper-focused on screens. But something about her work reeled people in.

The weekly installments were timelessly funny. Her style of art was surprising, yet memorable and her word choice was superb. She was critically acclaimed in the city for her work and she was proud to admit that, as a girl who used to doodle on every school notebook she ever had and on every wall of her parents’ home, she was earning a good amount of money.

She made quite a bit of money. Not just from the newspaper, but also from side projects she would do. She kept quite busy, but not busy enough.

She would often let her inner thoughts get to her. What if I stop having good ideas? My work isn’t good enough. People will have to hate me eventually, right? In her cramped office (small is how she liked it) she would allow herself to be drowned by alcohol and self-loathing. She was insecure in herself and her work and she didn’t know what to do to stop the madness in her head. 

~You're insecure Don't know what for You're turning heads when you walk through the door Don't need make-up to cover up Being the way that you are is enough~

Days would go by and one after the next, she would draw a gorgeous, detailed drawing (not up to her standards of course), and seconds later she would crumple the piece of paper in a fit of rage and would expel her anger with a scream. She would take copious sips of alcohol (her personal favorite was whiskey) that she kept in her coffee mug. 

Her assistant, Harry, didn’t like it when he heard her yelling and crying. He originally wanted to work with her because he knew how talented she was and he wanted to be able to grow from her work. Watching his mentor rip herself to shreds was extremely difficult.

One particular day, the yelling and anger were more intense than the ‘norm’. Usually, he just let it slide and kept typing away at his desk adjacent to her office door. One time he tried to come in during one of her episodes and she pushed him away, insisting he get back to work, so eventually, he stopped trying.

When he heard glass shatter, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He stood up from his desk and slowly knocked on the door. 

“Y/n,” he said softly, “can I come in?”

As soon as he knocked, her loud shrieks dulled down to a broken sob.

“Mhm,” she croaked. 

He walked in cautiously, fearful of the glass he had heard shatter. He found her eyes, stained with mascara and sorrow. She appeared truly and utterly defeated. He had never seen her like this. She tried to keep herself very polished so that no one would judge her work based on her actions, but she couldn’t handle it anymore and she broke. She broke like the vase that was shattered on the ground, leaving water, flowers, and glass scattered on the floor. But, Harry did not care about that. The minute he saw her, he walked over slowly and sat down on the floor near where she was slumped. 

He was caught off guard when she snaked her arm around his shoulders and draping the other in front of his stomach, latching onto him as she sobbed. It broke his heart. He didn’t think that that was possible. He was a work-driven man and he allowed his personal life to go to the back burner. But when his boss was slumped over crying in his chest, he had no other emotion than empathy and sadness. He didn’t truly know the meaning behind her outburst, but it didn’t matter. 

They sat in silence for what felt like timeless time. It was not fast and it was not slow. They just existed.

“I’m scared of being a failure,” she confessed through sniffles. 

“Why’s that?” he questioned sweetly. 

“People love me now, but there is always an end to ‘now’. I know that there will be a breaking point when my stories are not funny and my drawings are not pristine and every time I go to create something, I am paralyzed by the idea that my downfall might be around the corner,” she was slow and profound with her words. Her bottled up feelings came out without a hitch as if they had been there, fermenting for years. But he didn’t talk, he knew she wasn’t finished.

“And I am so hard on myself. I always have been. My insecurities get the best of me and I lash out. I drink alcohol to suppress my worries and I know I shouldn’t. I just can’t help but feel like everything I do is a complete failure.”

“I know this doesn’t help, but I like your work. In fact, I love it,” Harry exclaimed quite matter-of-factly, “And yeah maybe you’re right. Maybe the end of your success is right around the corner.”

She pulled her head away with confusion lacing her brows. She wasn’t expecting him to say something so curt. She giggled slightly.

“Well, aren’t you Mr. Motivational Speaker,” she chuckled sarcastically. Their laughs intermingled.

“Well, honestly none of us know when our success will end. But, you can’t give up now. Giving up now would be like getting to Disney World, but only staying in the parking lot. For all you know, the best is yet to come,” Harry mused. 

“Thank you, Harry,” she smiled.

A calming silence fell over them.

“And besides you’re really beautiful,” he spoke it before his brain could even process it, “I m-mean, you’re, you’re work is really beaut-”

“Harry it’s okay. You’re beautiful too and I guess I never really noticed because I was so caught up in my head.”

She didn’t say that statement in a flirty way. She just said it because she wanted too. She didn’t blush and she didn’t make it a big deal.

~Baby, you light up my world like nobody else The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell You don't know, oh oh You don't know you're beautiful~

Yes, they thought each other were beautiful in the typical exterior way, but they also felt that each other’s minds and actions were beautiful.

“I need a friend Harry. I am so lonely. I go home to my dog and I go to sleep and then I wake up and go to work and do the whole thing over again. I need a friend and I think we could be friends. What do you say?”

He smiled and nodded, “Friends.” 

They lifted their pinkies and pinkie swore.

They were so similar it was almost shocking. They had spent so much time in their heads. Harry caught up in work and letting personal things fall apart. y/n with her alcohol, loneliness, and overall feeling of failure. Yet when they looked into each other’s eyes on the floor of y/n’s office, it was as if they had seen each other for the first time. It was as if their souls reached out and touched each other. 

And Harry would have never admitted it, but he felt something more. He felt a warm feeling that he had not felt in a long time. A feeling of commonality between the two people who had emotionally distanced themselves from everyone else. And he knew that the pair were bound to be more than friends because the feeling he had, wasn’t ordinary. From that moment he knew that Y/n would light up his world like nobody else. 

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