#and rod is just not even that good of a person on his own so as a leader... lol

[lord-squiggletits]

After I write that new IDW Optimus meta, the next one is gonna be a post of "why I really hate that theory about Rodimus being a better Prime than Optimus and how it doesn't even match the themes of IDW OR canon fact about how the Matrix functions."

But the TLDR that I feel like encapsulates where a lot of this fanwank comes from, is that I feel like ppl don't properly appreciate that the context of Optimus and Rodimus' leaderships are extremely different.

Like, Rodimus only led a ship of about 200+ people. This means that the scale of his leadership responsibilities and the risks/consequences/stakes of his actions as leader were much smaller in scale. However, it also means that just because he only led one ship of people doesn't mean that his choices weren't important/weren't indicative of his personal character (that is to say, just bc it was only one ship doesn't mean that it had no meaning or significance at all).

On the other hand, Optimus led an entire freaking army over a 4 million year war that arose from political tensions that began even before he/most of the people in the war were born. That means that the consequences of his leadership had extremely far reaching consequences no matter what he did, which grants him a large degree of culpability/blame for his actions. HOWEVER, it must also be said that under the pressure of fighting an impossible war, just because OP wasn't able to "stop it sooner" doesn't mean that he was a morally bad/incompetent leader, because a whole galactic war is such a huge burden that one person can't possibly stop it or influence/control everything to make the most morally correct and peace-causing decisions.

TLDR can we please stop pitting Optimus and Rodimus against each other when the contexts of them being leaders was so vastly different (and they had such different leadership styles in general) that you can't really say "who's the better leader" without minimizing either of their accomplishments/magnifying their respective flaws.

Also, canonically speaking the Matrix can be wielded by anyone who's confident/at peace/self-righteous enough to believe they're worthy of it, which was shown not only by the ending of LL where a bunch of regular ass crewmates were able to use copies of the Matrix, but by the fact that the first Prime/ruler of Cybertron Nova Prime was a massive piece of shit who colonized people, yet was still a Matrix bearer who wielded the true/original Matrix.

And also Primus is literally Just Some Guy and not some omnipotent god who's an objective arbiter of morality that can point at a guy and go "YOU are the Specialest Boy Ever and are Divinely Mandated To Be A Good person"

So the entire premise of why ppl even make theories and debate about this is beyond me lol. In IDW1 the Matrix is more of a social/cultural symbol than it is an actual measurer of morality, which is in line with IDW1's consistent themes of challenging the inherent rightness of authority

[internetskiff]

The most powerful ability exclusive to humanity in the Half Life/Portal shared universe is our ability to just throw bullshit at the wall and see what sticks. Aperture "OSHA are the devil" Science have managed to create completely safe interconnected points in space. The same company that turns people's blood into gasoline and shoves lions and humans into the same enclosed space for the vague concept of "Science". Meanwhile Black Mesa still has to use Xen as a crossing and their teleportation device requires an entire reactor with a village's worth of staff constantly maintaining it, just to end up having most of said staff abducted by onion-headed aliens. Even the resistance hasn't managed to create completely stable teleporters with a compressed Xen relay, meanwhile Aperture just went "oh dude let's shove a black hole into a non-waterproof gun" and have just created a teleportation method that just removes Xen from the equation entirely. Doesn't change the fact they bullshat so bad they basically got themselves gassed to death, but still.

The Resistance are a good example of this too. The Combine seem to have a complete set-in-stone thought process and understanding of science which meant they didn't even begin to explore local teleportation via Xen, meanwhile a group of random human mechanics and scientists have managed to cobble together at least two semi-functional local teleporters out of scrap metal and stolen Combine tech, to the point the All-Consuming Interdimensional Empire had to straight up copy their homework. And that isn't even the only time they seem to be taking human shit to just copy the blueprints.

They 100% just yoinked the entire damn car out of that garage just to take a crack at reverse-engineering the Tau Cannon attached to it. Even Resistance weaponry somehow manages to rival or at least stand equal to Combine tech - and we're talking improvised crossbows that shoot superheated rods of rebar at the target compared to high-tech rifles that can discharge orbs of pure dark energy. The collapse of the entire Citadel is basically set into motion as a result of a cobbled together Rebel device placed into extremely capable hands.

The events of the Portal games are a case of extremely elaborate machinelike planning versus pure human improvisation, with Chell's entire escape in the first game involving her simply weaseling her way through small cracks that GLaDOS missed while setting up her ambushes, eventually turning her own rocket turret against her to destroy her.

I suppose you could argue this falls flat in Portal 2 with Wheatley, but it's important to remember he's designed to be an utter idiot, so it's safe to say he wouldn't obsess over the larger picture like GLaDOS to the point where he fails to see the cracks. Yes, he's the one that breaks Chell out of the test chambers again, and yes, he's the one that came up with the sabotage plot - but it's important to note while he knows what to target in the sabotage, when we actually get there he doesn't quite know how to sabotage it, leaving Chell to figure it out on her own. She botches the Turret Quality Control Line with some minor guidance, but it's basically completely up to her to figure out how to cut off the Neurotoxin Supply. It's through her improvisation that Wheatley even manages to get into GLaDOS' chamber, tumbling through her neurotoxin vent and shattering the glass cage she trapped Chell inside of. It's through Chell's improvisation that the Core Transfer even occurs in the first place.

The script is flipped specifically when Wheatley takes charge, because oops - turns out a mind capable of focusing on the bigger picture might be pretty important when it comes to running an entire facility powered by it's own Reactor. Wheatley just completely zeroes in on his own personal pleasure, hacking up test chambers and the objects within them to try and figure out the easiest way to get his solution euphoria as quick as possible.

Still, something that's pretty interesting is that only Wheatley has ever managed to create a trap that's impossible to foresee and avoid, something GLaDOS has repeatedly failed to do to the point she ends up commending him. I believe this is because his way of thinking is a lot closer to Chell's compared to GLaDOS'. He puts up way more of a fight as the two run through the facility trying to get to him, seemingly improvising on the spot just like Chell has been over the course of the two games. Even his lair would be impossible to survive if it weren't for a single Conversion Gel pipe he somehow failed to notice and remove.

Whether in a laboratory deep beneath the soil or an alien tower tall enough to split the clouds, the ingenuity of even a single person is enough to topple a tower or destroy a supercomputer 3 times over.

Marc Laidlaw put what I'm trying to say into a single sentence when writing for the BreenGrub twitter account:

"The superstructure is riddled with cracks."

[henry7931]

Trying My Neighbors Out

Chance:

This week, I specifically made sure I didn’t make any plans. I’m back from college for the summer, my parents are out of town, and I’ve basically told all of my friends I’m sick.

Why? Well I want to do something I’ve waited years to try but I feel like I never really get an opportunity.

I’m come from a long line of possessors and my parents would kill me if they knew I was using someone else’s body. So I only tried possessing someone once and it was my own dad— and that was too weird.

And I’ve wanted to try again in college but having a roommate and the thought of him trying to “wake me up” while I look dead… yeah not a good idea.

So here I am, lying in my bed. I tried to cone up with a list of people but I don’t know, sometimes friends can be too personal.

Instead I decided to do this, just kinda go for it!

I close my eyes and concentrated on exiting out of my body. And the next second I’m floating over myself.

I swiftly fly out the window and I see someone who’s somewhat familiar. My neighbor down the block Mr. Thompson. Garrett’s dad.

Garrett was a guy from my grade who was the captain of our lacrosse team. He’s athletic, handsome, popular at the time, and a literal straight male alpha.

I used to have the biggest crush on, I would sit behind him in Chemistry hopping he would kick his shoe off or lift his arm high enough to see his pits.

I follow Mr. Thompson into the house hoping Garrett would be home. But it’s just Mr. Thompson.

So I figured, what the hell? Here goes nothing!

I fly into Mr. Thompson and it takes a second before I start seeing a new perspective. Mr. Thompson’s to be exact.

I look over his reflection, he’s a little sweaty. Must have just gotten back from a run.

“Not bad,” I say allowed while lifting up his shirt. I take pic with his phone and text it to myself.

I pull off his shorts and was surprised by the tight pair of undies he has on underneath.

I take another picture and text to my phone before I pull off his socks.

I flex his toes, they are hairy and surprisingly well kept. I let out a chuckle that sounds so manly.

I bring his dirty socks up to his face and sniff them. And it tickles his heard a bit.

I then yank off his underwear and I see a nice size semi-hard dick surrounded by a bush of hair.

I do a full 360 in the mirror and I grab on to his hairy ass cheeks.

I walk over to his shower and I turn on the water. While the water warms up, I proceed to sit on his toilet and bring his foot up close.

I start sniffing his toes, his feet have a very distinctive smell. I start wondering if Garrett’s feet smell like his dads.

I start fantasizing about Garrett’s feet, I never seen them before but I bet they are just as handsome as his fathers.

I look down at his father’s now hard dick.

I stand up and walk over to the mirror, steam starts filling up the bathroom. I hold on to Mr. Thompsons dick while toying the head of it.

Slight pre-cum leaks out and I taste it. I grin watching myself controlling Mr. Thompsons fingers as I lick it off.

“Mhm! Mr. Thompson that tasted good! Do you mind if I jerk off your rod for a bit?”

I step into the shower and the water feels so nice. I get his hairy chest good and wet before I start fondling his dick again.

I feel up and down his body, touching his face, down his chest all the way until I’m back at his dick.

I start pumping it this time, eager to feel an organism from some else’s body. Even if it’s someone’s dad that I know.

I pound his dick while letting out loud manly moans.

I look down at his hairy legs and feet. That’s when I start to picture Garrett— all sweaty coming home. Yanking his shirt off…

Here I am jerking it in his dad’s body picturing him. It’s so wrong… but I don’t care.

I start screaming out, “Oh Garrett!!! Daddy wants to lick your feet and pits!! Please son!!”

Hearing Mr. Thompsons voice sends me over the edge! I immediately start cumming spraying Mr. Thompsons load all over the place.

I finished my shower feeling a little guilty about what I have just done in Mr. Thompsons body.

I dry off and head out of the bathroom. I start looking around for his room. I go to open a door when I realized that I’m now standing outside of Garrett’s room.

I try to turn around but out of the corner of my eye I see a pair of Garrett’s dirty socks laying on his bed.

I almost stop myself but I can feel Mr. Thompson’s dick starting to get hard again.

I hop into Garrett’s bed and start sniffing his socks.

That’s when I hear a voice say, “dad! I’m home!”

“Oh shit!”

I quickly get out of Garrett’s bed and rush to get out.

That’s when Garrett sees me, “uhhh dad?”

“Hey son.”

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞❝

Headcanons with my favorite boyssss [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Wordcount » 1234 (lol no way... you see it? 1234...) Info » just cute things ;3

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ace: qmech | Kid: skxviii | Law: oyasumi_mofu | Doffy: Hijiki_DaiXt

𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒

You both get partner tattoos instead of wedding rings but not something lame like a circle around the ring finger rather something small and personal. You have a little flame on the side of your thigh and he has one on his chest that has something to do with you. Maybe you have a devil fruit or a special weapon? It's up to you :p

You never thought you'd cry at your wedding ceremony because Ace let the most beautiful vows EVER leave his lips. His words were typically Ace and in between your tears he made you laugh. You were almost ashamed when it was your turn because you just wanted to repeat a sentence he once said to you but you changed it a bit… "I'm not interested in living a thousand years, it's enough for me to survive today with you." You spoke. Ace recognized the words immediately and remembered the conversation you shared in the past with a broad grin. He almost yanked you to him and kissed your lips even though the priest hadn't even given his blessing yet. But he doesn't care, he doesn't need the priest's blessings when he has you.

He definitely had his own thoughts about the wedding. For example, he has looked into various traditions… but it seems like he got something wrong… Instead of carrying you bridal style over the doorstep, he carried you all day. As soon as you set foot on the floor to get a new drink, he picked you up in his arms. His statement? "Come on love, when will I have the chance to carry you in your wedding dress again?". Okay that's smooth.

𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑

Kid probably would never have proposed to you on his own. You've been together for so long now and every time you've seen a married couple your mood has soured. You were annoyed and also disgusted and one day Killer asked you about it and in the conversation you ironically realized that you also wanted to get married lol… when you were with Kid in his workshop you casually mentioned, that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to get married as he was working on one of his new creations. He froze at the word marriage and the next second his machine caught fire because he held the welding rod on it for too long. You both panicked and put out the fire and you realized that he found the topic unpleasant and unnecessary, but you are you and you get everything you want, even if you have to force him! Luckily for you, Killer told you that Kid likes the idea of you committing to him forever, but pshht… otherwise Killer will lose his life.

He will send you away if you want to ask him something about the wedding planning or want his opinion. He'll just tell you that you can do whatever you think is necessary (ugh). You think it's a bit of a shame but you don't mind, you just want him to feel comfortable at his own wedding. After all, it's not just yours. But if it were up to him, he would simply put the ring on your finger and seal your marriage with a big smooch on the lips. But later in the evening you notice that he has circled options he likes or left little notes on your wedding plans and that's when you know you're marrying the right one.

he forges your rings and is quite proud of his work, but secretly nags Killer that he is unsure whether you like the rings. When he saw the sparkle in your eyes and heard your words about how much you love the rings, his heart stopped for a moment only to beat extremely fast. He wanted to marry you right on the spot, but he knows how much love you put into the planning. Happy wife happy life lol.

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤

A grand wedding with everyone (including the straw hats etc.) is planned, but he has other plans and takes you to the most romantic place to have a wedding ceremony just for the two of you. The party can still take place afterwards with everyone, you are a little social butterfly after all, but the wedding ceremony? That's between you and him <3

Law, similar to Ace, would want partner tattoos instead of real rings but rather in an intimate place where only both of you will see it… if you know what I mean ;) It's safe to say he'll shower your tattoo with kisses everytime when you're getting busy.

He has already seen you (without you knowing it) in your wedding dress. He knew exactly what was going on when you waltzed happily past him with a big package... And even if he hesitated for a moment, he followed you discreetly like a pretty good stalker… He peered through the gap of the door to the room you shared. You were apparently so excited that you hadn't even closed the door. He heard you squealing happily in the bathroom and without really realizing it, he held his breath until you came out of the bathroom. And then you stood there in your beautiful white dress. The feeling in his chest increased rapidly as he watched you twirl in front of the mirror like a princess. Your laughter makes him grin… "I guess she's just as happy as I am that we're getting married..." he thought to himself with a satisfied expression as he let go of the door and walked away. He leaves you a little moment for yourself and your joy, he'll see you walking towards him soon anyway. He is pretty sure that he will never forget that moment. The sight of you walking towards him will be engraved in his brain.

𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜

You want fireworks that paint your faces in the sky? A thousand white doves that are released when you kiss? A 10 meter high chocolate fountain? A wedding in pink? No problem. Your list is long and you get everything you want. Doflamingo will put together the perfect team to fulfill your every wish. Money doesn't matter, but you do.

You get a ring with a gemstone you've never seen before. Even if you express your doubts that you are afraid of losing this precious ring, Doffy reacts almost insulted. You are the rarest and most valuable gemstone in the world. If you lose the ring, he'll have a new one before you know it.

It's going to be a big big wedding BUT not many people are invited because there's a chance of someone ruining it. Whoever is invited is a big figure or part of the family. Everything is secured but not in an oppressive way. It all plays in the background, because if there were security guards everywhere it would ruin your perfect wedding picture. Nobody is allowed to ruin this day for you and him and if they do, they will pay for it. He also has the wedding broadcast live on TV so that everyone can see that he's marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. How extra.

Masterlist

I hope you enjoyed reading it. See you next time <3

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡

[sleepinghypnos]

The Creed

Chapter 2 - Second Plate...

Genre: Smut

Tags: F/M, F/F/M, F/F/F/M, Facefuck, Throatfucking Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Harem, Self-degradation, Masochism/Sadism(?), Cum Play, Piss Play

(The things in the tags will be present when the time needs for it.)

Disclaimer: This work is a fan-fiction and does not depict the person/people mentioned in the story.

A/N: You can self-insert if you want...

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“Just like that, obediently lay down and be used by me.”

“YES SIR, OH MY GOD!!! YOU ARE HITTING SO FUCKING D-DEEP!!! I'M YOUR SLUT, YOURS ALONE, PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME. RUIN ME FOR OTHER MEN. UGGHHHH, UGH-FUCCCK, SHIIIIIT!!!” Karina moans like a total slut craving for some rough fucking... Vlad told her to bend her knees to her chest and raises her feet while laying down, penetrating her deeper making her eyes rolling back and her tongue lolling out.

His study has a bed for the reason that he sleeps in the study more frequently instead of his bedroom since he's getting more requests nowadays.

"That's it, lose yourself in pleasure. Let me see that tongue of yours lolling out." Vlad thrusting into her with a fierce and unrelenting force, his massive rod buried deep inside her, Karina couldn't help but let out a string of moans and gasps that echoed throughout the room.

Karina was known for her confidence and strength on stage, in this moment, she was completely submissive to the man's will. Letting herself get consumed by lust and her carnal desire to be used.

“How are you so fucking b-big” She said between moans.

“You'll take this dick everyday whenever I want to, fucking slut. You are MINE now.” He slapped her face then grabbed her neck to choke her while still fucking her deeply.

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“AACHHKKK- YES SIR! I'm your dumb slut. Just a cum d-dumpster for you, PLEASE F-FUCK ME. USE ME WHENEVER YOU WANT.” She managed to respond despite the choking.

Vlad is fascinated in her hidden slutty side. He just knows that k-pop idols are the horniest because of their job to act the way people want them to behave and so their real personality lay dormant within them until provoked. “I'll use you, keep begging slut."

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“YOUR DICK FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD!!!” She screams in ecstasy as she lay underneath him. “IT'S REACHING SO DEEP!!!”

He's kissing her in a ravenous passion, unrelenting with his thrust, and insatiable lust for her, for her clenching walls massaging his entire length... Seeing her beg for more adds fuel to his already burning and scorching desire to claim her, make her dependent on him, a cockslave... that only lives for his pleasure.

“You like that? You like getting treated like piece of meat... like an object of pleasure?” He grinned at her moving his hips in a rhythm that stimulates her even further.

He squeezing her cheeks with his hand and she can barely talk. “YESSHH SHIRR! I"M A DUMB WHORE, A FUCK MEAT READY TO PLEASHHURE YOU ANYTIME.” She gave a very satisfying answer.

“Right, a fuck meat, remember your role from now on.” He thrusts his hips forward and meet her cervix in one fell swoop. Karina screams her lungs out as she felt his huge cock trying to enter the forbidden domain, she's new in deep penetration. This is her first time getting railed to the extent that she can feel a cock touching her deep ends.

“OH FUUUUCKKK!!! TOO DEEP! YOU ARE TOO DEEP SIRRRR!! SHIT, SHIT, SHIIIIT!!!!” She said as Vlad pounded into her by pulling his entire length except the tip then thrusting full throttle over and over again. "SIR, I'M CUMMING!!! SHITTTT. LET ME CUM, LET ME CUM PLEAAASSHHH!"

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“SIR, Y-YOU'RE SPLITTING ME APART!!! HE-HEHEHE, FUUUCCCKKK! KEEP USING ME. PLEASE. HEH-EHEHE. IT FEELS SO. FUCKING. GOOD!!!! ” She's losing her mind, laughing... Vlad continues to pound her not stopping. “AAAAHHHHH, I'M CUMMIIIIIINNNGGG!!!” Karina squeal as she explode, squirting... Vlad's fucked her through her orgasm making it more sensitive and stimulating until he reached his own peak and release it inside of her womb.

"I'M CUMMING INSIDE OF YOU, SLUT!!!"

"YEEEES PLEASE FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME." Karina said while still overstimulated, and felt a surge of liquid in her womb. "HEHE-HE, I can feel you cum inside of me, it's warm... I want it everyday, i want to be fucked silly by you... Sir.. please, can you please continue using me?" She said while caressing her underbelly that is noticeably bulging due to Vlad's massive load.

"Of course, fucking dumb whore... you are mine now. I'm going to use you whenever I want to." He said while pulling out watching his obscene amount of cum pour out of Karina's now loose pussy.

She smiled, “Yes, I'm a dumb whore, thank you for putting me in my place, Sir. Please keep reminding me with your massive cock...” Karina stares at Vlad with such submissiveness as if she's been bewitched by him...

Vlad left Karina in his study to rest, since she's worn out even with just one session with him. Even if he claims that he'll use her which is the truth, he's not a total scumbag that he will not look out for her well being. He then decided to go to his firing range to let off steam, Karina is a lucky one, he showed mercy to her since she's half drunk when she went to see him...

When he arrived, he was welcomed by a small petite figure rummaging his armory... "What are you doing here?" he said.

A/N: A short update... Oh wait, all my works are short... Anyways, enjoy this short piece.

[kandlewick]

i'll dry the villain's tears

t h e r o s e r e d t y r a n t ' s m o t h e r pt.2

you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.

You felt entirely too overdressed sitting here at the park. Your former body's wardrobe was obviously not meant for anything too strenuous and that apparently included just enjoying your time outside in the sun. You could feel the sweat gather in uncomfortable places... but your nerves weren't just because of the warm weather.

Trey's mother sat beside you, much more dressed for the occasion, and watched as Trey and Riddle reconnected. You could hear the two of them laugh and giggle as they began playing as if nothing had ever happened and the two were quick to run up the steps leading to the slide, followed by a whole gaggle of other children. You let out a soft sigh of relief at the sight.

Not just the clothes, but your body was so stiff and rigid it was hard to even relax as you tried to breath. Your back was straight as a rod while you sat on the uncomfortable park bench, your well manicured hands firm on your lap and you shuffled uncomfortably in place. Trey's mother eyed you from her spot on the bench and offered a small smile, like she was acknowledging how strenuous this whole situation was for you.

"I'm guessing you've never brought Riddle to a public park before, huh?" She crossed her arms and leaned on them over the table, linking her fingers together, "You look like you're about to faint."

You forced out a laugh, too embarrassed to meet her gaze and pulled at the high collar of your buttoned top. You could practically feel heat waves steaming off of you. "Something like that," you admitted, "I wasn't exactly a good mother when it came to recreational activities."

You inwardly cringed at your wording — what, is Miss Rosehearts vocabulary infecting you too?

Trey's mother hummed as she continued to look at you. You could feel her bright hazel eyes staring at you. You could feel a cold sweat drip down your neck.

"Please stop me if this sounds too forward," Trey's mother leaned back but quickly offered her hand to you, "but my name is Dinah."

You blinked up at her, startled. She... wanted you to shake her hand?

She offered up her hand again and made a motion for you to follow. Almost hesitantly, you reached out and clasped her hand in your own, shaking it. Her palms were so warm, comforting, almost the exact opposite of your body's cold touch. She smiled at you, the dimple on your cheek crinkling with delight.

"I figured since our children are such good friends, we could at least try and act cordial." She glanced over as your two children sat next to each other on the swing set, the elder Trey guiding Riddle on how to kick back his feet. Riddle was hesitant and stumbled a few times, but kept giggling all the same, obviously entranced.

"Trey likes to baby younger kids," Dinah smiled, "I wonder how he'd do with younger siblings..."

You noticed that too as Riddle followed him around like a little duckling chasing after its mama. Whatever Trey did, Riddle would follow even if it meant pushing his limits. Trey watched carefully from the other end of the playground as Riddle jumped from one platform to the next, his arms out and knees shaking as he tried to keep himself balanced. Whenever he would stumble and topple over the edge nearly sending him into a fit of tears, Trey was quick to act and followed him back to the beginning.

"He's a sweet kid." You mumbled, "You're a great mother."

She gave you an almost sympathetic look, noticing your tone before reaching out and grabbing your hand, "Hey, you're not doing so bad now either." She squeezed your hand in her own and offered you an encouraging smile, "Parenting isn't easy and sometimes you don't notice the damage until it's too late but look at you," She gestured to your whole self, "Better late then never, right?"

You both sat there idly chatting until much later then you had figured you would and before long, the sun had began to set, casting the park in a orange hue. You were caked in sweat but Riddle wasn't doing much better. The two children came back huffing and puffing from exhaustion, sweat dripping off their foreheads like rivers. Riddle looked especially tired, his cheeks a bright red.

"I think I'm ready to go now," Riddle sighed.

You gave him a small smile and pulled him close, rubbing your pristine sleeve against his cheeks and wiped away any of the dirt that stained his skin, laughing as he let out a soft whine. Trey wasn't faring any better and was quick to lean against his mother's lap. Dinah ruffled his hair but her face quickly grimaced at the sweat in his hair. The kids obviously were going to need a bath after this.

You pulled Riddle in to your arms and tucked him under your chin. His bright red hair tickled your face but you held him even closer as his arms wrapped around your neck. He let out a soft sigh against your shoulder. Trey, being much taller then Riddle, simply grabbed Dinah's hand. He tiredly looked up at the young boy in your arms and smiled, his hands raising to offer Riddle a small wave.

"Bye, Riddle. We'll play again sometime, ok?"

Riddle turned his head and nodded, a sleepy smile on his face, "Mmmhm..."

"We will do this again sometime, right?" Dinah lowered her voice and leaned over so that Trey wouldn't be in ear shot, "This isn't a one time thing?"

"Oh?" You blinked over at her. Oh! "Yes!" You reassured her, your voice a little too loud, "Yes, we would love that. Riddle would love to." I would love to!! You screamed in your head, eager to befriend her. You wanted friends too!!!

Dinah gave you a dazzlingly bright smile, "Then I think we should invite Chen'ya and his uncle next time too!" Riddle and Trey straightened up at this and you could tell the two of them were excited about the thought.

"His uncle?" You questioned. That doesn't sound very familiar.

"Oh yeah," Dinah laughed behind her hand, "Chen'ya's parents are always out of the country on business so he lives with his uncle and his grandfather. My husband and I are good friends with them both and his uncle is a really fun guy, I'm sure you'd find him... interesting!"

It would certainly be interesting meeting someone new that you had no idea about... plus you'd be able to apologize properly to Chen'ya and whoever his guardian was. It could possibly be very... fun. You could feel your body hum in excitement as you found yourself nodding eagerly, nearly bouncing Riddle in your arms, "I would like that very much."

And then after exchanging phone numbers, you and Dinah parted ways, the two children eager to return home and rest.

"Mmmm," Riddle hummed in your arms, his hold on you loosening as he began drifting off, "I had a lot of fun today —" He yawned loudly, his head burrowing itself further into your neck, a content smile on his face, "Thank you."

[peterman-spideyparker]

Patience is a Virtue (Matt Murdock x fem!virgin!Reader) (Virtuous Person Part 2)

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I know I've basically disappeared from writing, but I lost inspiration and motivation to write for a while, and then with just life in general, finding time to sit, write, and edit became near impossible. This definitely isn't my best, but writing is writing, right? I hope you enjoy it! :)

Summary: After Matt found out you were a virgin, he told you he would wait for and with you. Almost two years later, he's still holding steadfast to that promise and about to delight you on your wedding night.

Warnings: Kissing and being cute idiots in love, flirting, pet names foreplay, smut (fingering - f!receiving, handjob, oral - f!receiving, praise kink, p in v sex) Matt is a sexy menace, checking in on Reader to make sure they're okay, Reader is a virgin but knows some things

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 4,984

Matt’s hand rests on your waist, his arm holding you close to his side as the two of you make you way to the front door of the loft. He pulls his keys out of his pocket, finding the right one and sliding it in. His grip tightens on your waist as you try to take a step forward. Before you can ask, he swoops you up into his arms, kissing your temple as he walks in. 

“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he hums. 

You giggle, resting your head against his. “It’s good to be home, Mr. Murdock.”

Matt doesn’t put you down until you’re in his—now your—bedroom, his lips on you as your feet touch the floor. 

“How can I help, sweetheart?” he whispers against your lips dreamily. 

“Well,” you sigh, mindlessly plying with the hair at the nape of his neck, “if you can help me undo the buttons on the back, I think I can take it from there. You have your own layers of tuxedo to worry about.”

Matt smiles as you turn around, and you feel his lips almost immediately press soft kisses onto the back of your neck as his fingers work to unloop the buttons down your spine. You feel your skin burn hot, goosebumps dancing all on top of your flesh as he makes his way down your back. When you feel his fingers try to gently push the dress off your body, you take a step away, biting your lip as you smile and turn back to face him. 

“Patience is a virtue, my dear husband,” you hum as you slowly back your way toward the bathroom. “Five more minutes. I promise. Unless you need more time to get out of that tux?”

“I can be ready in two,” he grins, undoing his bow tie.

“You might, but I still need the five minutes.”

Matt laughs, leaning forward to give you a sweet kiss, happiness written in every pore on his face.

“Five minutes,” he repeats.

You smile and give him one more kiss before you walk into the bathroom and close the door. You sigh in relief as you get out of my dress—for as much as you love it, you are so happy to get the weight of the layers of fabric off of your body. You hang it up on the shower rod before you quickly move to the sink to wipe off your make up and take down your hair, combing it out to loosen the hold of the hairspray before refreshing your deodorant. You move to where your robe hangs on the back of the door, uncovering the special lingerie you hid a couple of days ago. Knowing Matt and his senses, he probably found it already, but that doesn’t take away your nerves and excitement for the night. He loves you, and you love him—Matt waited with and for you, and tonight, you’d finally be together in the way you’d been thinking about for so long. With a deep breath, you take the lingerie down and work to get it on.

You twist and turn in the mirror once it’s all on and in place. You look good—you feel good. Sexy, even, which is not something you can say you feel on the regular. Well, that is before you started seeing Matt. He always knows just what to say, just where to hold onto you, he just knows you, plain and simple. His love and support are more than you could ever ask for, and you’d hope he’d say the same about you. He married you for a reason, right?

Taking a deep breath, you fix your stockings and adjust the way your boobs sit in your bra before you reach for the doorknob and slowly walk back to the bedroom, the click of your heels echoing in the loft. 

You can’t help the smile on your face when you lean on the doorway of the bedroom. Matt’s laid out on the bed like he’s posing for a painting or a sculpture, one arm behind his head with a knee propped up as his face smiles softly, dreamily toward you. Let’s face it, he looks like a work of art.

“You were longer than five minutes,” he hums. 

“Oh, well, I can go back in the bathroom and take longer if you want?” you tease, your laughs bouncing almost immediately off the old brick of the bedroom. Matt gets up off the mattress, padding his way over to you. He takes your hands in his, bringing your left one up to his lips to kiss your rings. 

“Hi, angel,” he whispers.

“Hi, Matty,” you breathe.

“Want to get to bed?”

“Mm, sounds nice.” You take his hands and place them on your waist, and you watch as Matt licks his lip and suck it between his teeth. “You know, I bought a lot of different options in different colors. Couldn’t really decide on what to do. Black looked good, and I know you have a thing for red, but, white felt appropriate for tonight.”

Matt’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, his fingertips playing with the soft lace and mesh. “Something tells me that you’ll get to wear all of your options this week.”

Matt takes a small step back toward the bed, and you follow him, your stocking garter brushing against his leg, and you swear you hear him purr in delight. 

“Tell me what you’re wearing angel,” he demands softly. 

“Well, the bra is a little corset-y. It pushes my boobs up,” you start with a little smile, moving his hands along the garment, letting him feel what you describe. “The cups are satin overlayed with lace with little embroidered flowers. Some are white and some are a light blue. The rest is a mix of lace and mesh. The thong—.”

“You’re wearing a thong?” he smirks. 

“Mmhmm.” You guide his hands down your torso and to the fabric on your hips. “Not as bad as I thought it’d be. It’s the same mesh, lace, and embroidery as the bra. Then there’s a garter belt that has clips that are clipped to my stockings. And I believe you felt the garter against your leg. And the heels will be coming off . . .” You kick them off behind you while you stay in his hold. “There we go.”

“Damn, I’m a lucky man,” he smiles as you get to the edge of the bed. 

“I’m a lucky woman. Now,” you whisper in his ear. “Do you want to tell me what you’re wearing?”

Matt laughs, holding you close and kissing your shoulder. “I think the boxers are white. Could be black. You’re the one with working eyes, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I know, but I told what I’m wearing. Sexy and fair.”

“Ah, well . . . how about we add fun to that running list?”

You smile and nod, leaning into Matt’s touch on your neck before your lips meet. You both fall back onto the bed, bouncing a little on the mattress from the momentum. The kisses start sweet enough before they grow into something more, Matt’s hands squeezing at your waist. Your heart rate increases as things get steamier, and you moan in delight when Matt turns you around on the bed, kissing you down into the mattress. He trails his kisses down on your neck, and you toss your head back on the pillow, letting out a breathy moan. You feel Matt’s lips pull into a soft smile, his lips moving back to your. 

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” he whispers as he kisses you. “It’s been a long day. We can wait.”

“I’ve already waited this long,” you breathe, craning your neck to look at him, your fingers running through his soft hair. “I don’t want to wait any longer to be with you.”

Matt beams, the crinkles you love so much appearing at the corners of his eyes, the hazel orbs twinkling like stars before he leans in and crashes his lips to yours. 

“Just lie back and enjoy yourself for me, angel,” he whispers, his lips barely parted from yours.

“You sure, Matty?” you ask. You appreciate him taking the lead, but you don’t want him to feel like he has to do all of the work.

“I’m sure. Tonight, right now, is about me making my wife feel good.”

You smile and giggle lightly, your cheeks burning hot at him calling you his wife. Matt matches your bubbly, giddy outburst, smiling as he kisses you again. His hands run up and down your body gently, his movements loving, his fingers sending fire throughout your skin. His lips move from yours, exploring and nibbling at your neck. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, a soft moan falling from your tingling lips as his hands approach your ribcage. You moan softly as you get a new wave of goosebumps all over, his fingertips repeatedly teasing you as he moves to unclasp your bra. Your stomach flutters as he kisses you, unlatching the bra hook by hook, painstakingly slow until you feel the entire thing loosen on your chest. Matt presses gentle kisses on every inch of skin that his lips can find. When his lips reach your shoulder, his fingers ghost up your arm to pull at the loosened bra strap. As it starts to slide down your skin, you suck in a gasp, your hands gripping on to Matt. 

“It’s okay, angel,” he whispers, moving his face back up toward you. “It’s just me. I’m going to take good care of you.”

“I know,” you breathe, your heart thundering in anticipation in your chest. “I know. It just . . .”

Matt presses his lips to yours, long and slow. “I know,” he echos reassuringly. “Do you want to be the one to pull the straps down?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head against the satin pillowcase. “I want you to do it.”

Matt nods before gently pushing down your straps some more until they’re halfway down your arm and your breasts are exposed to him. He slides off the lacy fabric and tosses it somewhere to the side, his lips moving to your collarbone. You moan in delight when you feel how his large hand cups the side of your bare breasts, his simple touch sending fire throughout your body. Matt leans down, kissing your clavicle slowly, softly, and repeatedly, worshiping the exposed flesh surrounding your heart. 

“I love you,” he whispers. 

“I love you,” you breathe in response, working to maintain focus as your body becomes enveloped in him and his touch. You feel yourself clench around nothing as Matt’s mouth moves over your breast, his lips wrapping around your nipple. You gasp and tug at his hair, desperately wanting him closer. His face squishes against the supple flesh as he tries to go deeper, his stubble tickling you. Matt chuckles, his lips turning up into a smile as he repeats the same movement on your other breast. His kisses and sucks work to make each nipple pert and perky before wrapping his warm, calloused hands around them, giving them a squeeze as he dives in for another kiss. 

Of all the things you could be focusing on right now, you’re enamored by the way his nose squishes against yours, passionate and intense. You’ve been in similar positions before, bodies flush against each other and lips locked in a tender and needy embrace, but this one feels exponentially better. You hold his face in your hands, keeping him close. He pulls back, needing air for his lungs that isn’t from your own. 

“Are you doing okay?” Matt swallows, brushing some hair off from your forehead.

“I’m alright,” you breathe. “You have a great mouth.”

He smiles and laughs, leaning back in for another quick kiss. 

“Oh, angel,” he coos. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

You cheeks burn hot as your legs involuntarily squeeze against his. He chuckles softly some more, his hands roaming down your sides until they get to the waistband of your garter belt.

“I think you’re still a bit overdressed, though, Mrs. Murdock,” he coos.

“I can say the same for you, Mr. Murdock,” you hum, your hands sliding down his back and over the curve of his perfectly round ass, giving it a squeeze. “It’s been left to my imagination for too long.”

“It has?” He rolls his hips into yours lightly, letting you feel through the thin layer of cotton just how hard his is.

“It has. I need visuals, my sweet husband.”

“Okay. But let me make things a little more even, first.”

You watch as he sits up on his knees, taking one of your legs in his hands. His fingers move toward the snaps on the garter belt before he gently starts to peel off your stockings. His lips are on your skin as the nylon rolls down, worshiping every ounce of flesh, sending yet another round of goosebumps and fire all along your skin. Once he is done with one leg, he moves to the other, using his teeth to pull off the garter before taking off the garter belt and repeating the same process with your stocking. 

“There,” he says as he kisses your lips, gently taking hold of your hands and pulling you up to sit, weaving your fingers together. “We’re even.”

“Seems we are,” you smile. “You still have too much clothing on you, though.”

He chuckles. “Well, whose fault is that?” 

“Mmm, I’m putting this one on you,” you smile as your hands move down the contours of his body. Your hand glides over his bulge, giving him a squeeze, delighted at the flush you make appear on his skin as he sucks in a breath. “Can you take these off for me, Matt?”

“I’m not quite finished with you, you know,” he breathes, lust hooding his eyes. 

“I figured. But I want you to feel good, too.”

“Trust me.” He moves his hand between your legs, slipping his fingers under your panties and into your slick heat. Your mouth falls open, a stuttered moan filling the space between your bodies as he plays with you, stopping you in your tracks as you rub him. “You’re making me feel all kinds of good, sweetheart.”

After a few beats, you’re able to get your bearings. You lean forward, attaching your lips to his neck as you work to mark him up as yours as you palm him. Matt keeps up his work with his fingers, breathlessly praising you for both of your actions. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants. “Shit, your hand feels so good. So good at making me so hard for you. Such a good girl for me.”

His other hand slips around your waist and down your back, getting a handful of your ass and squeezing the flesh. “Let me take your panties off, sweetheart. Let me put my face between those legs.”

“Will you take your boxers off for me?” you murmur into his clavicle as you move your lips up to his neck, gently sucking on a spot that you know drives him crazy.

“I’ll give you all of my underwear if you let me taste that pussy of yours.”

You giggle, moving to kiss him deeply as he leans you back down on the mattress, his fingers moving out from your underwear and to your hips. He pulls you toward him, and you get the hint to lift your hips to help him slide the fabric off. True to his word, Matt slides off his own boxers and you see him completely bare. It feels like your eyes bug out of your head as you take him in, lying back on your elbows. He’s large, for sure, and he looks thick. Not that you have anything to compare him to from personal experience, but, he’s truly a sight to behold.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, partially amused, the other part very sincere. 

“Oh, I’m good,” you muse. “Wow.”

Matt laughs, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “Thank you,” he smiles, guiding you down on the mattress. “You’re pretty ‘wow’ yourself there, angel.”

He continues to place scattered kisses down your body, and you moan softly as he does. When he kisses at your belly button and inches lower, you swallow hard, his lips making you warm and tingly. Matt’s kisses are slow and deliberate, lingering on different parts of your skin where you don’t want him to focus on. Finally, Matt moves his mouth to hover over your exposed core, and he lets out a long, warm breath over your dripping folds. You whine at the teasing sensation, your hips bucking toward him, and you see Matt grin devilishly before you feel his hands on the inside of your thighs and his lips on you.

You cry out, your back arching as your thighs try to close around his head. Matt’s fingers squeeze into your flesh, keeping them open as he hums in delight. He was right when he told you about his mouth earlier. His tongue laps up everything that drips out of you, his plush lips wrapping around your clit. You start to squirm a little in delight, but Matt slides his hands over your skin to your hips to hold you in place before he pulls his head up.

“You taste so fucking delicious, (Y/N),” he breathes, his mouth glistening as he tries to lock his eyes on yours. “I’m going to keep going, and I’m also going to slide my fingers in. Tell me if you need me to stop, and let me hear every little moan and breath that you make.”

“Matthew . . . Fuck, Matty,” you say softly, running your fingers through his fluffy hair. He hums in delight, keening into your touch. “You’re being so good to me.”

“Well, happy wife and all,” he smiles, kissing at the fold of your hip. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you let me eat you out so you’re nice and ready for my cock?”

“Yes,” you swallow, your heart pounding in eagerness and excitement.

Matt smiles, kissing your thigh once more before gently spreading your lips with his fingers, trying to keep his gaze upward as he licks you. Your jaw drops at the sight and the sensation, throwing your head back on the pillow and moaning in delight, one hand squeezing your breast as the other stays in Matt’s hair. Matt hums, and the vibrations only help with the sensations, rippling like shockwaves through you. The ministrations of his mouth only grow more deliberate, throwing you for loop after loop. You practically scream in delight when you feel Matt carefully prod one, and then two fingers in you, curling them deliciously against a spot inside of you. 

“You like that, angel?” he teases against your puffy lips, and the soft kisses he presses to your surrounding skin make you feel absolutely insane with pleasure. 

“Oh my God,” you breathe out fast as he continues to curl his fingers. “Oh my God.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you confirm. 

“What do you like better? My mouth or my fingers?”

“Don’t know,” you moan, feeling the pleasure build through your body. 

“You don’t know, angel? But you’re so smart. You’re my smart girl. My smart, beautiful wife.”

Between the praise and the sensations, you can’t form a coherent sentence. It’s like everything you could possibly say, even the most basic of words, have fallen entirely from your brain and everything is just focused on Matt’s body between your legs and his velvety voice.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he coos softly. “Use your words for me, honey. Which do you like better? My mouth or my fingers?”

“M-Mouth?” you stutter, even as his thumb presses on your swollen clit and you moan in delight. 

“My mouth?” 

“Y-Yes.”

“Didn’t sound too convincing. Let me see . . .”

Matt’s mouth is back on you as his fingers continue to pump and curl between your legs. You swear you could levitate off the mattress. You desperately wrap around Matt, your legs squeezing his head so tight you’re afraid it might pop off, your fingers tugging at his hair. He thoroughly enjoys himself, moving his head from side to side on you and eating you out like you’re his first meal after five years in the desert. You feel a strong tightness grow in your abdomen as he continues and your heart races. Matt moves his left hand up and laces his fingers with you, giving you a gentle squeeze as you teeter a dangerous line. It’s like your desire for him just increased ten times more than what you already feel; you want him, and you want to make him feel good like he’s doing to you right now. With a swift movement of his tongue and a curl of his fingers, you feel something snap in you as you cry out at the top of your lungs, your entire body spasming as you come around Matt’s fingers and on his face. Matt tries to get his face deeper in you, licking you clean and taking everything you offer him before pulling back and kissing all over your skin.

“I’d say you like my mouth better,” he pants with a smirk, letting you watch as he licks his fingers clean. “Are you okay, (Y/N)?”

You’re incredibly blissed out and completely entranced by him, but you nod, pulling him down for a kiss. 

“I’m stellar,” you breathe as he pulls back from the kiss. “That was . . . You’re . . . I love you, Matt.”

Matt smiles more, and you’ve never seen him glow quite like he is now. Sure, he was radiant today, but now there’s a little layer of something extra on him. “I love you too, (Y/N).”

He pulls you in, but whatever switch turned on in your brain while he was between your legs with his fingers locked with yours now has a voice shouting in your head that you can’t quite ignore telling you to take control. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Matt breathes, an amused smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as he follows where your hands guide him on the bed. 

“You told me to lie back and enjoy myself, and I did,” you say as you move to straddle his lap. “Now I’m going to ask you to do the same.”

“Are you sure?” He looks surprised, but incredibly turned on at the same time. “You know you don’t need to. I can keep—.”

“Mm, I know,” you nod. “I want this. I want to do this. Is it okay with you.”

“Yes,” he breathes, totally enamored as his hands glide up and down your thighs. 

Taking a deep breath, you grab Matt by the base of his cock, holding him straight and lining him up with you so you can sink down on him. You moan at the sensation of him. He feels just as large—perhaps even larger—then you could have ever imagined. Matt closes his eyes and throws his head back, moaning in delight. It’s so hot to hear him make those noises, you just want to keep pulling them from his throat. 

“G-Go slow,” he instructs, a flush spreading on his chest. “Take your time taking each inch, sweetheart. Go slow and listen to your body.”

You nod, listening to his advice and take him carefully, the stretch and burn both painful and delightful. You swallow hard when you get all the way down, letting yourself take in the full feeling of him and how you stretch around him. Matt’s hands glide up your thighs, going up over your curves to your waist. His fingers spread and trail in front of my stomach, and you can feel him graze against where his cock is in you before they slide back down to settle on your hips.

“You okay, angel?” he whispers. 

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “You feel so amazing, Matty.”

“So do you, angel.” 

Slowly, you start to roll your hips back and forth to give way to some of the friction and pressure, needing to feel him. Your mouth drops and you start to moan, his thick cock tickling every last nerve ending between your legs. Matt’s fingers dig into your hips as he helps guide you along.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he breathes breathlessly as he licks his lips. “So good f’me.”

“You like that?” you breathe as you gaze down on him, and he nods vigorously. You smirk and place your hands down on his rock hard stomach to help you for your next move. “Then I think you’ll like this.”

As you roll back to the center position, you start to push up on your knees, slowly bouncing on his length. You moan louder as you feel the drag on his cock against your velvety walls, feeling how he almost falls out of you before you sink back down. 

Matt looks like a mess, for a lack of a better word. A deep pink, nearly red flush all over his skin as he starts to sweat, desperately trying to focus and hold on. He swallows hard, and you can see his Adam’s Apple bob. 

“Matt,” you hum. 

“Don’t stop,” he pants, the muscle in his jaw feathering. “Don’t stop, don’t stop. I’m . . . ‘M close.”

Your rhythm slows as you lean down on top of him and kiss him deeply. Matt’s arms wrap around you and pull you close, rolling you on the mattress so he’s on top. As his lips stay on yours, you can tell he’s trying to control his hips to prolong our activity.

“Matty,” you pant. “Matty, harder. I want you to cum for me. I want to feel you cum in me.”

He’s a groaning, blubbering mess as his hips start to ram into you, a very distinct wet sound along with that of slapping skin filling the bedroom walls. The mattress squeaks while the headboard hits the frosted glass behind the bed, and you can’t help how your fingernails claw angry red lines down his back. Your knees hook onto his hips, creating a deeper angle—once his hits the very back of you, you moan and scream out as your body trembles in pleasure as Matt does the same. Matt groans, punctuated thrusts of his hips moving to get himself as deep as possible in you as he unravels and you feel is hot cum fill you up.

Matt holds you in his arms, both of your bodies covered in sweat as your breathing starts to even out. You close your eyes, swallowing hard as you stroke his hair, getting lost in his hold. Matt just hums, his lips kissing wherever they can find purchase. 

“I can last longer than that, I swear,” he breathes, and you both chuckle.

“You don’t need to worry, Matt,” you smile, your fingers trailing down the line of his back. “I’ve left you high and dry for about a year and a half.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true.”

“Us making out and and sometimes grinding against one another on the couch after too many drinks isn’t the same as what we just did, nor is you having a wet dream when we’re asleep.”

“No, they’re not,” he smiles. “But you’ve always given me everything I needed.”

Matt presses a long kiss to your lips before he sits up on his knees, continually kissing your knuckles. 

“I’m going to be back with a towel for you, okay?” he breathes, kissing at your fingertips.

“Stay,” you ask. “Stay here in bed with me.”

“I should clean you up.” 

“Please, Matty?” You give him a puppy dog pout, knowing that even though he can’t see it, he sure as hell can sense it. 

“Fine. This time.”

You smile as you slowly pull him toward you, his lips meeting yours before he lays down next to you and you curl into his chest. 

“Matt?” you start softly, a voice growing in your head louder and louder until you can’t ignore it any longer. 

“Yeah, angel?” he responds, his voice gravely. 

“Was . . . Was it worth the wait?”

He turns his face toward you with the sweetest smile on his lips. “It was more than I could’ve hope for.” He brushes some hair off your forehead. “Do you think it was worth the wait?”

Your fingertips trail down his chest, drawing little patterns on his skin as you look at him. “I do. I do. It felt right. Extra special.” You cringe and chuckle.

“What?” Matt smiles.

“I sounded so sappy and old-fashioned!” you laugh, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“You’re not wrong, though. It was amazing. And I can always say that the first time I was with you, it was on the happiest day of my life.”

“Now you sound sappy and old-fashioned.”

You chuckle together, and you hum in delight when you feel his lips press a prolonged kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers. 

“I love you,” you murmur back, the sleep starting to settle into your body. “Can I let you in on a little secret, Matty?”

“Of course. That’s what husbands are for.”

You smile from ear to ear as he kisses your forehead. 

“I’ve got about twenty of little sets like that. And that’s not including slips and other things. I mean, you’ve felt the slips before. I’ve been building up a little stock since we got engaged.”

Matt hums, running a hand up and down your back. “Then it’s a good thing we’re home all week for our honeymoon so we can cycle through those outfits. And I promise, you’ll see just how long I can last.”

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[prolix-yuy]

Olive Branch

Pairing: Francisco Morales x F!Reader

Summary: If Frankie doesn't like olives, then what does he like?

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: T, alcohol consumption, mention of drug use, incredibly tame for me, hints of spice. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: I was challenged by @happypedrohours to write a story involving Frankie and olives, and what do you know, these are two of my favorite things! I was snickering to myself the entire time as the olive metaphor rolled out, but what the hell, we're gonna keep it in! Enjoy my friends, and Happy Pedro Hours!

Cross-posted on AO3

When it slides in front of you, you know it’s a good one. You watched the bartender make one at the end of the bar and it was just how you like it. Dry, cold, three olives on a hardy metal toothpick. You were practically salivating by the time you ordered your own and it slid in front of you, shining like the Holy Grail.

“Didn’t know you liked martinis.”

Head whipping around, you stutter out a laugh as Frankie slides in next to you. He perches an elbow on the bar, free shoulder coming close as the crowd tucks you into each other. Your eyes dart to his crinkled brown ones, then to your drink, and back again to distract from the proximity. His hand is tucked into his faded jeans, but it wouldn’t take much to cup your elbow or wrap around your waist. 

“On special occasions,” you quip, tossing your head at Will and Tatiana surrounded by your friends. She’s showing the girls the ring, the men clapping hands on Will’s back and making him laugh. The air holds the fresh taste of new beginnings.

“Never had much of a taste for ‘em. Just gasoline in a glass,” he replies. Your face must be ten levels of indigent with how quickly his eyebrows shoot up.

“Do I look like a car to you?” 

Frankie’s eyes twinkle, and it flips your stomach.

“Definitely a hot rod.”

You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. He’s never serious, after all. He likes to ply you with compliments just short of flirty and leave you high and dry at the end of the night. The first time it stung so hard you didn’t go out with the boys for weeks. 

“He’s just a little fucked in the head, don’t take it too personal,” Santi told you when he finally wrestled the reason for your absence out. “Can’t stop chasing anything messy with two legs. Last girlfriend was a cokehead, even worse before that. He likes ‘em pretty and crazy, and he bags ‘em left and right. They always leave him worse for wear.” Santi’s eyes narrowed over his knowing smirk. “So now you like him?”

“Fuck no,” you spat out, arms folded tight. “I don’t deal with boys who play games.”

Yet here you are, again, with Frankie, ready to roll the dice yet again. At least he doesn’t know you’ve still got a soft spot for him ready to land.

“I’ll ignore the fact that you called Hendricks gasoline,” you scold, sliding your gleaming prize closer on its soggy black napkin. “There’s also vermouth, and olives.” You take a sip, the warmth of the gin and sharp salt of the charcuterie mainstay sweeping across your tongue. Frankie’s eyes drifting down to your lips on the rim of the glass.

What a cocktease. At least most men who eyefuck you actually follow through.

“Shaken, not stirred?” he quips in a rough approximation of a Scottish accent. You snort, instantly regretting it as the burn of brine and alcohol decimates your sense of smell. Trying to hide it under a tiny cough, Frankie’s face turns to the bar.

“Not much of an olive guy either, so you're 0 for 3 on convincing me.” 

You don’t know why, but your stomach sinks briefly as you gingerly twist the glass stem between your fingers. 

“Perfect, more for me then,” you shoot back brightly, but he looks back a fraction too soon before the disappointment flits away. 

“C’mon, you know you were never gonna change my mind,” he teases, jostling you with his shoulder as he motions for the bartender. 

“Never said I was,” you add absentmindedly. 

Frankie will never be an option. He’s made it clear time and time again that he doesn’t choose you. But sometimes, when you let your mind drift, you think about how it could happen. Some dark room where he finally finds something he’s been looking for. The brushing of noses and near-misses before one of you finally acts and you’d know what his lips feel like. Then he would lick into your mouth and his flavor would dance with acidity and botanicals on your tongue and he’d moan at how good you taste.

But he doesn’t even like olives. Or you.

Frankie’s drink is a golden lager, malt rising to your nose. You like beer too. You like a lot of things. You could sit at this bar and talk about your favorite drinks for hours. You’re not just the martini girl. You’re so much more. 

You need some air. Your daydreams are getting in the way of enjoying the night and Frankie’s none the wiser, so best keep it that way.

“I’m gonna bring my gasoline olives back to the party,” you say, ducking out from Frankie’s body without waiting for a reply. Maybe catching a glimpse of surprise, you strut back to the girls. The warmth of their excitement and enthusiasm reinvigorate your tight throat. 

Your drink dwindles slowly, savoring the clean flavor and crushing the olives one by one between your teeth. One of the girls tries the dregs of your glass and wants one of her own, so you weave back to the bar so you can help her order. A holler rises from the boys around Will, and when you look you catch Frankie’s face again. He’s all beaming smiles, eyes barely visible from behind his crows feet and gleaming teeth. He catches your eye and his smile softens, and over the din of the bar he mouths “you good?”

You nod. Of course you are. What would Frankie know about that?

The drinks come, followed by cheers and hums of contentment. You will definitely be tipping well tonight. Before you can make it back to the group Benny cuts off your path, swooping one arm behind your back and your free hand into his. 

“No no no, Benny, I’ll spill!” you shriek, feeling the telltale wetness of a sloshed drink over your fingers. “Shit, I think I got it on the back of your shirt…”

“Ah, I’ve had worse,” Benny says, mock-dancing with you to the barely audible music. 

“How’s Will?” you ask, leaning over his shoulder to snag a healthy sip of the martini. Now a more manageable level, you let Benny lead you away from the bar.

“So in love it makes me sick.” You raise an eyebrow. “In a good way!” he adds, turning you so the man in question is visible. Tatiana’s tucked under his arm, and his mouth drifts to kiss the top of her head.

“You know what, I get it,” you agree, the both of you snickering as the tempo of the music changes. It might be a Hozier song? It’s hard to tell over the babble of voices.

“How are you?” he asks, feigned innocence a red flag flicked in front of your eyes.

“Peachy. Why?”

Benny’s hand squeezes yours in a soothing rhythm.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off. Fish mentioned you seemed down. Something about olives?”

The flash of heat rocketing to your face has to be combatted, so you choose comedy.

“Oh yeah, the fact that they never give me enough in my damn drink. Could drive a woman to tears!” Your put-on mid-atlantic accent doesn’t sell it. Benny chews on the inside of his cheek before leaning to bring his mouth to your ear.

“I know you’re gonna tell me to fuck off…”

“Then you don’t have to say anything.”

“...but you and I both know this ain’t about olives.”

You lean back, jaw set and eyes cool.

“You’re right. It’s about absolutely nothing.”

“Hey…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Benny lets go and you down the rest of your drink. It burns and you hate yourself for it, but it feels good to let liquid frustration carve through the center of you. 

“It’s late, and bar snacks aren’t gonna soak up the hangover I’ll have tomorrow. I’m gonna say bye to Will and Tatiana, get a cheeseburger, and go home.” Benny puts his hands on his hips, blue eyes filled with a brotherly care you know better than to try and tamp down.

“And it’s not about olives?”

Plucking the toothpick full of metaphor out of the glass, you point it at him.

“It’s not about olives.”

Benny relents, and walks you over to the happy couple. Promises of more drinks and a bachelorette party are half shouted before you pick through the crowd and exit the front of the bar. 

The air is just starting to get cool, alcohol thrumming in your blood. You love the way a martini buzz feels, your mind crystal and your body sharp as glass. It’s different from the smoky haze of scotch or the sluggish thudding of beer. Martinis make you diamond.

Which is why you notice Frankie immediately upon his exit, even though you can tell he wanted to go unseen for a few moments longer. He fumbles his hands into his pockets, ambling up to stand beside you while you glare at the Uber app.

“Got a ride coming?” 

“Eventually.”

He nods and stares at the toes of his boots, which you observe surreptitiously. The progress bar keeps filling and emptying as the silence stretches. 

“I’m sorry for shitting on your drink.”

You can’t help but snap your face to him, eyebrows raised.

“I sure hope you didn’t shit on my drink.”

The poor choice of words quirks the corner of your mouth as Frankie tries to recover.

“Jesus Christ, I mean…you know what I mean! I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he says, now contemplating the sky with resignation. There's still a fight in you, but you try to meet halfway.

“S’all good, I shit on your terrible beers all the time. We’re even.” You glance back at the app and shut it out of frustration. You’ll try again in a minute. 

“I don’t hate olives, either,” he rushes out. You roll your eyes, shoulders slumping. God, could they just let this go? You’re embarrassed enough about it. Before you can make another joke, another deflection, he barrels on.

“To be honest, I’ve never tried…olives. I see them all the time - at parties, at the bar, at friend’s houses - and there always seems to be some reason not to try them. I’m always having something else, or just had something, and I don’t want to…I’m afraid if I try the olives, I’ll really like them. And I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. And that’s been scaring me off from even trying.” 

Frankie looks up at you, mouth parted and brow furrowed, as realization rises slow and fizzy.

“Because I think I could really, really like them. Enough that I’d want them all the time. But I’ve never had anything like that before. And I don’t want to hurt the…olives.”

Your heart is thudding in your ears, lower lip close to a betraying tremble before you force it between your teeth..

“You don’t want to hurt…the olives,” you parrot back and Frankie sighs, lifting his cap enough to rake his fingers through his hair before resettling it. 

“Fuck it, you know what I mean, right? It’s not about…it’s not about the fucking olives,” he says, and one of his hands wraps around your shoulder. It’s hot and strong and your chest swells at the touch.

“If it’s not about the olives,” you say, tentative, voice dropping into a lower register. He’s closer, almost as close as in the bar, thumb worrying back and forth over your shirt. “Then why don’t you show me what it is about?”

You expected more hesitation, but with that permission he lunges for you, cupping your face with both hands as he crashes your lips together. It’s fast and messy, teeth pressed against your lips and his tongue slipping in to taste. He groans and your knees go weak, head spinning worse than any drink could hope to do. You clutch the lapels of his canvas jacket and pull him closer, sweeping strokes of your kiss filling your mouth with bitter hops. With a lurch he pulls back.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against your lips, but he continues to clutch at you, arm banding around your waist to keep you snug against him. 

“For what?” you tease, sliding your nose along his proud profile. 

“Takin’ so fuckin’ long.” His teeth graze your jaw lightly, heat pooling in a place that’s demanding a more private location for proper penance.

“I think you owe me a lot more than one very good kiss, after everything you’ve put me through,” you contemplate, his grip tightening. 

“Still waiting for your ride?”

Your fingers wander to the nape of his neck, and his curls are just as soft as you imagined.

“No.”

A gentler kiss follows, broader, somehow still able to make your head spin.

“Good, you’re coming home with me so I can properly apologize.”

The next morning as Frankie opens his front door for his breakfast delivery, he finds a pristine jar of olives resting on his welcome mat. The scrawled note - better start getting a taste for these! - is clearly in Benny’s handwriting. The memory of your body, soft and sleeping in his bed, pulls him back inside. 

After everything that got him here, he could learn to like olives.

END

"This is where righteousness ends It’s a relief to wave this overdue white flag and My blind spots have tortured you enough How much salt could I pour in To think that I called myself a friend."

Alanis Morissette, Olive Branch

[sometimesanalice]

Seeing Double

Summary: Two weeks had felt like more than enough time to come up with something. And now you’re costumeless and in a panic less than a couple of hours before you’re supposed to be meeting your boyfriend’s closest friends. You’re ready to call it quits when you’re suddenly hit with a burst of inspiration.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6k

Warnings: fluff, allusions to smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in short-shorts (minors dni)

(This fic is a one-shot that is set before the Oh Christmas Tree, but you can read it on its own! Enjoy 🧡)

Looking at your closet, filled with everything and yet absolutely nothing, you’re beginning to realize just how totally and royally screwed you are.

The thing is you’d had time. More than enough time, in fact.

When Bradley had first invited you to go with him to this Halloween party, two weeks had seemed like plenty of time to concoct the perfect costume.

And then the more you’d thought about it, the more you’d overthought it, the more annoyed you’d gotten for overthinking it. A vicious spiral that not even hours of searching on Pinterest had helped to pull you from.

One that had left you costumeless for a party that was supposed to start in less than two hours with all of your boyfriend’s friends.

Fuck.

It was one outfit for one evening. You should probably be more concerned about Ciara from Marketing and her not-so-subtle scheming than what you were going to put on your body for the next five or so hours.

As you a sift through your perfectly color coordinated clothes, dragging hangers across the closet rod as if you’ve been personally victimized by the wardrobe you’d bought with your own money, you can’t help but wonder if you might have some self-sabotaging tendencies.

Bradley Bradshaw had snuck up on you when you were least expecting it. And what you thought was just going to be some summer fun had quickly turned into something more.

More often than not, you were thinking of him.

More often than not, he was texting you throughout the day.

More often than not, you were sharing a bed with him at night.

The last three, almost four, months had flown by in a summer haze and you liked Rooster more than any other man you had dated in the past.

You might even love him, but that was something you were keeping close to your chest for now. It felt too soon to be feeling the way you did about him.

He was more than just the pretty face and easygoing smile that had swayed you into giving him your number. He was more than just a fun night out and some no-strings-attached-yet-mind-blowing sex that you had tried to convince yourself it was.

He’d made it impossible for you to try and keep it casual in the way that he’d thoroughly swept you off your feet. You’d given up trying to keep him at arm’s length after your fifth date with him.

If you couldn’t beat him, you might as well join him. And so far, it was a gamble with your heart that was paying off.

Which was probably why you had given yourself the world’s worst mental block trying to figure out a costume to wear.

You’d met a few of his friends, like Natasha and Jake, during the nights he’d taken you to the Hard Deck. He’d told you that after one of their missions earlier in the year, the members on the squad had been in high demand. But this was the first time you’d be hanging out with them all at once.

So yeah, you were more than a little nervous about this evening.

And you didn’t just want to make a good impression, you wanted to absolutely charm and delight them. These people were so important to him, they were his family. They mattered to him and he mattered to you.

You pull out a black cocktail dress and debate whether you could pull together a Breakfast at Tiffany’s look with the pearls your grandmother had left you. It was a classic for a reason, right?

Or did it make you look like you were trying too hard? She was basically a callgirl after all.

The formfitting little dress goes back on the rack with a little more force than is necessary.

It’s just a causal get together, so why are your palms sweating?

You eye a silky pink slip dress and think about pairing it with one of your overpriced sleep mask. But you think you’d look less like you were flirty, thirty, and thriving and more like you forgotten to get dressed after rolling out of bed.

There are still a couple of cozy plaid button ups that you’d brought with you from home, but unless you carried around a roll of paper towels all night, it was an idea that might get you a more than a few perplexed looks. And there was nothing worse than having to explain your outfit for it to make sense to people.

Or worse, you’d be the one cleaning up spills all night.

You wanted your effort to look effortless.

Cool but not try hard. Thought through but not over the top.

You remember seeing some friend of a friend’s post from last weekend where she was dressed as Kim Possible. Green pants and a black top feel very doable. And she’d looked very cute and low maintenance, which was just the kind of vibe you were going for.

Remembering a pair of green khakis your sister had somehow talked you into the last time she came to visit, you go to your dresser and yank out the drawer you think they’d be in and toss it on the floor. You’re over trying to keep some semblance of order, that’s a problem for future you to deal with now.

Digging around in the pile, you will a flash of olive green to appear before your eyes. And when the items formerly nicely folded drawer and nothing but a heap of wrinkled, olive green-less chaos, you’re hit with the realization that the khakis that had seemed like a bad idea when you’d first gotten them had felt like a bad idea every time you looked at them and they’d ended up in the donation pile during your last closet purge.

You flop down and take in the carnage.

Half open drawers, random tops and skirts flung on your bed, the perfect rainbow of your closet now some technicolored disarray.

You’re almost afraid to pull out your phone to look at the clock, that pressure growing in your chest keeps getting worse. You can almost feel each individual second as they tick by. Glancing down you see that there’s a new message from Bradley, one that you missed in your frenzy to find something, anything to wear tonight.

Bradley, 9:52 AM: That wake up was worth the extra pushups I had to do for being late.

Bradley, 11:10 AM: Did I leave my shirt at your place this morning?

You, 12:22 PM: I’ll check when I get home and let you know. But I’m sure it’s there since I vividly remember the way you took it off last night.  

You, 12:23 PM: And you only have yourself to blame for those pushups. (PS. I told you what time it was before I got in the shower, you were the one who invited yourself to join. PPS. I liked that thing you did with the shower head)

Bradley, 2:37 PM: As I said, worth it (PS pretty sure the only thing I heard you chanting was my name. Also I just ordered a new shower head for my place, one with a fancy handheld and everything)

You, 3:04 PM: I guess I’ll have to wake you up with my mouth more often then. (PS. just curious how many settings does it have? Asking for a friend.)

Bradley, 3:10 PM: Jesus Sweetheart, I’m up next to do a hop… (PS more than enough, and by enough, I mean 7)

You, 3:10 PM: 😘 (PS. can’t wait, I’m more than happy to product test)

Bradley, 3:11 PM: Yeah, I bet you are...

You, 3:11 PM: (Want to know the best part of working from home? I can get off any time I want. Have fun flying with that hard-on, Roos.)

Bradley, 3:12 PM: Baby, you’re killing me here

You, 3:12 PM: Fly safe ❤️

🔴 Bradley, 6:14 PM: Just got home, I can’t wait to see you tonight. What time should I pick you up? You might have to come down though, I don’t know if they’d let me in...

Skimming the previous messages from earlier in the day helps relieve some of the anxious energy that was thrumming in your veins. Because he’s just so Bradley.

He hadn’t been the only one who got to work late this morning. You’d actually worked from the office that day, but it had been more fun to tease him from your desk than draft the internal communications you were supposed to be working on.

The original plan had been to work a half day and then leave early and figure out your costume situation. But then you’d been pulled into an emergency PR meeting on your way out the door for one of the company’s biggest clients and had got home much, much later than you’d planned to.

You’d spotted Rooster’s shirt crumpled on the floor by the foot of your bed, from where he’d shucked it off the night before, the second you’d flown into your bedroom. Now it is carefully draped against the back of the soft blue tufted chair in the corner of your room. It was a colorful patchwork of beach themed vignettes in soft corals, teals, and dark blues. In addition to the palm trees and foliage, there were also planes and ships on it.

It was one of your favorites because you always felt like you were finding something new on it every time he wore it.

He’d told you once early on when you’d first gotten serious, after you’d teased him about his seemingly endless supply, that he’d even gotten curious one drunken night and looked up the resale value on some of his favorites and was shocked at the numbers. That it had taken him a month to put one back on because he didn’t want to ruin any of them on accident, now that he knew what exactly his father had left him.

You knew how much Bradley valued his collection, what they meant to him. You were even watching a few vintage ones in nice condition on Ebay to give him for Christmas.

Letting out a ragged sigh, you look back at the pile on the ground.

You’ve always prided yourself on being a problem solver. And the one time you needed to spring into action with a pivot plan is the one time you’re at a complete loss. You felt paralyzed by indecision and the kind of pressure that only you could put on yourself, which made everything that much more frustrating.

How you had kept the novelty six-pack tank top you’d taken home from a White Elephant exchange, but donated the green khaki pants was beyond you.

Out of the two, one would have been much more practical in this particular moment.

You pick it up off the floor and feel the fabric between your fingers. It was surprisingly soft for something that you’d expect to feel like sandpaper no matter how many times it got washed.

That tank top had never seen the light of day, yet always seemed to make it through your yearly purge unscathed. Probably solely on the fact that it made you giggle whenever you saw it. You always forgot about it, but it was a happy surprise when you pulled it out from where it was tucked away in the back of your dresser drawer.

You let it fall back onto the top of the pile.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard of your phone as you try to figure out what to say to Bradley, as you look back and forth between your mountainous mess and the empty text box.

You know you could call him and he’d pick up before the third ring. You knew you could text him and he would reply the moment he could. And you know, if you told him you were stressed about meeting all of his friends and wanting to impress them, to impress him, that he would understand. He’d tell you- in that soothing way of his- to not worry about it, that you could just wear whatever made you comfortable, no costume necessary.

He’d probably even ditch his own so that you weren’t the only one there in normal clothes, even though he’d been dropping teasing hint about his for days now. He was so excited for tonight, you didn’t want to bring the vibe down before you’d even arrived.

You close your eyes and allow yourself a couple moments to reset.

What you wore didn’t matter. But whatever you wore, you were going to have a great time with Bradley and the people he cared about. And that was the only thing that mattered to you.

You could throw on your little black dress, or a red and white striped sweater with a pair of glasses, or some skintight leggings and a leather jacket. But it didn’t matter because it was all going to end the same way: with you tipsy and giddy and in Rooster’s bed.

Already feeling much better you open your eyes again.

You’re greeted again with those perfectly sculpted abs of that silly little tank top that still sits on top of the mound of clothes on your floor. But out of the corner of you eye, those cheerful colors adorning your chair in the corner wink out at you.

The glimmer of an idea settles over you like stardust.

It’s on that the more you sit with, the more perfectly solidified it becomes in your mind. Oh, you can see it so clearly now.

It’s an idea that makes you feel like you could bubble over in excitement.

You shoot off a quick text to Rooster and set about grabbing all the things you needed. You’d be a little late, but not terribly so. Fashionably late.

And you’re hopeful it’ll be worth the last-minute change of plans.

There was only one thing you needed that you didn’t already have, and you knew just where you’d be able to find it.

Just a quick little pit stop on the way to the party.

On your way to Bradley.

When Rooster parked in front of Fanboy and Payback’s place he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the Spanish-style house they rented together absolutely covered in every type of decoration imaginable.  

He’d heard Reuben moan and groan about it enough over the last few weeks.

Halloween was Mickey’s favorite holiday and there was nothing more he loved than going all out on a theme. It didn’t matter if it was St Patrick’s Day or National Cheeseburger Day, he always committed.

They’d all be pulled into the argument about whether or not a faux body bag filled with empty bottles should be strung up on the front porch. Fanboy lost that one by a mere two votes. And Bob had been the one to broker the peace by suggesting they make some ghosts to hang up instead.

Dozens of glowing pumpkin lanterns hung from the trees outside and lined the pathway up to the front door. The bushes were wrapped in fibrous looking cobweb material as lights flickered and flashed underneath them. There was a fog machine hidden somewhere because wisps of smoke were curling and crawling along the lawn. Custom gravestones littered the yard along with a few well-placed plastic skeletons. The front of the porch was filled with more pumpkins of various sizes and shapes and colors as well as those truce ghosts and a few oversized bats swaying in the chilly October night breeze.

Rooster wasted no time letting himself in the glowing entryway, rubbing his arms as he hustled to get inside. Normally he ran warm, but he’d been covered in goosebumps from the moment he’d gotten out of the Bronco.

His costume had earned him more than a few wolf whistles when he had stopped to get gas. He’d simply shot them a wink and a smirk as he’d strut past them to go inside and pay.

He looked damn good.

But there was only one person he’d wanted to show off this outfit to.

He didn’t know how it was possible but the inside was even more decorated than the outside of their place was.

There were stands and strands of colorful string lights in black, purple, and orange strung across the ceiling covered by gauzy black fabric. There were more cobwebs covering every exposed bit of the walls and flameless candles lining the floor of the hallway. And there was a mix of eerie forest sounds playing under the Halloween party soundtrack that Coyote had been roped into making for the night.

Bradley follows the hundreds of little plastic spiders decorated the wall leading him to the living room. And almost collides with someone as he rounds the corner.

The shorter man he’d nearly taken out had on an overly bleached and spiked wig with a goatee and was wearing more neon orange flames than any one person should be allowed to wear.

They were both eyeing each other waiting for the other person to lob the first comment.

Rooster sees the way Mav’s cheeks are twitching as he takes in the length of the shorts he was wearing and just how much leg he had on display.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hear it, old man,” he says, reaching out and taking the drink from Mav’s hand and taking a swig from the mostly empty bottle before passing it back.

“Did they lower the drinking age and I missed the memo, kid?” Mav tosses back easily, pointing to Bradley’s clingy, red Rydell High School t-shirt. “Don’t need a Class A misdemeanor on my record, that file is already big enough on its own.”

“Laugh it up, Flavortown,” Bradley snorts, “You on your way out?”

“Yeah, just wanted to swing by for a minute before I go over to the Hard Deck to help Penny out for the night. She sent me with some treats too, they’re over on the table. Where’s your girl? I was hoping to see her before I left.”

“Oh, uh, she’s meeting me here. Said she got caught up in a last-minute meeting,” Bradley says rubbing the back of his neck. He was trying not to over think the text you’d sent him. “So what’s Penny dressing up as?”

Mav uses both hands and gestures to his costume, face flat.

“No shit,” Bradley laughs.

“Amelia hustled the both of us,” Mav says shaking his head fondly. “I’m telling you, kid, teenagers these days are a scary bunch.” He takes the last swig of his beer and passes the bottle to Bradley, patting him on the shoulder. “Make sure you and your girl try the candlestick cakes. The realistic ones are the ones that Penny made.”

“And the others?” Rooster asked with a smirk.

“Let’s just say I’m a better pilot than I am with a piping bag,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. “Happy Halloween, Bradley.”

“See you on Sunday for brunch.”

He and his godfather exchange a hug before Pete strides out the door, giving him one more pat on the back before he leaves.

Rooster makes his way further into the living room and goes to check out the food situation and to grab a drink in hopes that it’ll help settle that anxious coil in the pit of his stomach.

He waves over to Fritz, Yale, and Omaha, who are dressed up as the Sanderson Sisters, as he makes his way to the dining room. Fritz has his arm draped over his wife’s shoulder who is dressed like a black cat and they’re all gathered around the keg in the kitchen like it’s a cauldron.

Under a display of floating candles, Fanboy and Payback’s dining table is filled to the brim with all kinds of party food. Breadsticks that looked like fingers, a charcuterie board being clutched by a skeleton, a carved pumpkin puking some kind of tasty looking dip, and rice krispies with an ungodly amount of red dye number forty wrapped up in plastic on Styrofoam trays. And of course, the candlestick cakes. It was obvious which one’s Penny had made and which were Mav’s handiwork.

He pops one in his mouth, making a mental note to text Penny about how good they are.

Off to the side there was a homemade cooler shaped like a coffin and a witch’s cauldron bubbling away with dry ice filled with something potent, if the patriotic punch from the Fourth of July was anything to go by.

He grabs one of the plastic syringes from the bowl that says free shots and sips it down easily, trying not to grimace at the ratio of tequila to cranberry cocktail, and then dropping the now empty syringe in the hazardous waste bucket that’s placed next to the bowl.

Checking out the inside of the cooler, he sees it’s been stocked with a good variety of beers and ciders, he even spots your favorite which he knows you’ll be excited about.

That is whenever you get here.

Bradley pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his tight-fitting shorts to see if there’s any new message from you yet.

No ETA, no update, no on my way. Nothing since his last text nearly forty minutes ago. He’s tempted to shoot you another one, but he doesn’t want to come across as overbearing.

Rooster knew you were a bit anxious about tonight, even though all his friends really liked you, but he was starting to think that maybe he might be deeper in this than you were. He was trying not to let his mind spiral about why you didn’t want him to pick you up, but the only thing he kept coming back to was that maybe you wanted a way to make an easy escape if you weren’t having a good time with him or his friends.

He was worried that you might have one foot out the door.

You’ve met most of his friends now, just at different times and never all at once.

After the Uranium Mission, their team quickly became very in-demand. Getting requests to join other training contingents, classified trials and testing of new tech in development, and smaller specialized missions. It’s very rare now that they’re all in the same place at the same time. It always feels like there’s always someone missing, they’re always going and doing.

His team has always been good about finding ways to let off steam.

Although, he’s been less frequently found behind the piano bench of the Hard Deck since he’s taking on a more starring role in your bedroom. His friends would tease him on base about keeping you to himself. But he wouldn’t apologize for wanting to spending all his free time with you than the people he already spent the majority of his days with. Bradley doesn’t want you to feel like he’s trying to keep you away from them, he just would rather soak up all of your attention than share you with everyone else.

He liked that you were his girl.

Sighing to himself, Rooster puts his phone back in his pocket and walks back out to the living room before anyone can accuse him of sulking.

Callie and her fiancée are dress up as Velma and Daphne and chatting away with Bob over by the fireplace that is filled with skulls and thick pillars of candles. Bob’s homemade chef’s hat is glowing lightly from the inside and showing the silhouette of a little rodent.

He watches as Fanboy in his Hamburglar costume heading over of the bathroom with a trash bag looking more than a little suspicious. Bradley is sure he has more than a few pranks up black and white striped sleeves tonight.

“Where’s your Sandy, Danny?” Nat asks, sliding up to him and passing him a beer.

“You know, I don’t actually know what she’s coming dressed as. She never gave me any hints,” he admits, taking a small sip as he takes in her costume. She’s got fluffy bunny ears on and her nose is painted pink. The only thing missing from her Lola Bunny ensemble is the basketball.

“Oh?” He can tell Phoenix is trying to school the surprise on her face. “I just figured with you wearing that and all.”

He just shrugs, his thumbnail picking at the label on the bottle.

Bradley had thought about floating a couple’s costume when he had invited you to come with him, but he pivoted at the last moment, not wanting to put pressure on you to agree to commit right away.

“Is she on her way?” Nat asks, looking at him out of the corner of her all too keen eyes.

“Hopefully, if she doesn’t change her mind,” he says ruefully.  

“Why would she do that? Did you do something to piss her off?”

“Not that I know of. I know I’m reading into things, but I was supposed to go pick her up and she texted me last minute saying that she’d meet me here instead. And I don’t know what to make of it, it just isn’t like her.”

“Is that why you’re standing here look like a sad puppy? You know I’ve never been able to get through those ASPCA commercial without them getting my credit card information. Can I read the text?”

“Sure, have at it,” he says, unlocking and handing over his phone to her. “Uh, just the last few though.” He tacks that last part on quickly and she just gives him a pointed lift of her sharp eyebrow.

He feels dumb watching Nat skim the texts, he knows he’s overthinking things. But he also knows he’s not going to feel better about any of it until you get here and he can see your face.

“She said she’ll be here, Bradshaw. I don’t know how else you’re reading into this, but I imagine the mental gymnastics must be getting tiring.”

Bradley huffs a laugh, because she’s right.

As always.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It’s just- I really like her, Nat.”

“Oh, we know. You moon after her with those big cow eyes all the time” she teases, nudging her elbow against his ribs. “But I’ve also seen the way she moons after you too, so relax.”

He can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face. The idea of you watching him the same way he knows he looks at you when you’re not looking at him makes his chest fill with warmth.

Nat peers around him and he spins to see who’s just arrived.

“Jesus, Rooster. Aren’t you worried about your dick falling out of those? They’re indecent,” Jake drawls, looking every inch the action hero he thinks he is.

“Please,” Bradley says with a roll of his eyes, “You wish you could pull these off, Bagman. If you got it, flaunt it.”

“I’m flaunting plenty,” Jake counters as he flexes. His shirt is unbuttoned all the way to the waistband of his pants. Although, Bradley is pretty sure Indiana Jones at least had sleeves. “Once your girl sees these abs she might be my girl by the end of the night.”

Seresin shoots him a wink and struts away, the plastic whip on his hip bouncing with every step. Rooster just shakes his head after him, watching as he high fives Javy, who is dressed as The Rock complete with a fanny pack and chain around his neck, in greeting by the sliding glass door that leads to patio.

“I still can’t believe you use to date him,” he ribs Nat lightly.

She plucks his beer out of his hand, claiming it as her own in retaliation. “Me neither,” she grunts, but he hears the hint of affection in her voice.

“Hey, you two look great! Do you need anything?” Mickey asks enthusiastically. His shifty eyes and overly wide smile instantly making Bradley edgy.

“Where’d that trash bag you had earlier go, Fanboy?” he asks warily.

“That’s for me to know and Javy to find out about later,” Mickey says slyly.

Rooster and Nat exchange a look.

This was the thing he was worried about when Cyclone had announced the news earlier in the week that they’d all tentatively have the next couple of months off through the new year. A well-earned break. No extra assignments. No extra transfers or additional training seminars.

Mav had told him in confidence that there was one small deployment that might get approved near Thanksgiving and that he was going to pull some string to see what information he could find out about it. Bradley was hoping that you might ask him to come home with you and meet your parents, so he had his fingers crossed that his name was left off that list.

The mood on base was already light. Mickey and Javy had started a series of pranks against each other that had slowly been escalating over the last few days. And Rooster knew that this extroverted bunch would be leaning in at full force and cutting loose tonight.

“Can you do me a favor, man? Can you hold off on the pranks for an hour, I don’t want you guys to scare her off the second she walks through the door.”

“She’s met us, she knows how we are.”

“I think that’s that point,” Nat quips.

“She likes us and we like her, so what’s there to worry about?” Fanboy asks rhetorically.

“And not all at once,” Bradley mutters.

“Lighten up, Rooster! I’m sure she’ll get here soon. In the meantime, go have some of the Potion of Peril punch that I made. I promise we’ll be on our best behavior. I won’t even ask her to grab something from the fridge for me,” Fanboy says that last part with a concerning laugh as he scurries away.

“You won’t what? Wait, Fanboy, come back,” Rooster calls after Mickey. He sees Payback dressed as Marty McFly coming down the stairs, and catches him. “Reuben, hey, what’s in the fridge?”

“Mickey has been collecting all of our empty jars for weeks now. He filled the damn fridge with jars of heads. It scared the shit out of me the first time I saw all of them. I haven’t been able to find the open container of mayo for days, and I’m tired of eating dry sandwiches.” Payback lets out the biggest sigh and rolls his eyes before he leaves them making his way over towards Coyote and Hangman still by the patio.

“See, Nat? This is what I’m worried about. We’re a lot, in more ways than one.”

Bradley pulls out his phone again, probably for the fifth time since he’s arrived and begins working on a text to send her. There’s nothing wrong with a little heads up and if he can get a little update from you then he’ll consider it a win.

“Well, if it ain’t Rooster,” he hears Hangman call out from across the room.

“We just did this, man,” he tosses back, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Hey! Bradshaw’s girl has got a better set of abs than he does!” someone else calls out.

That gets his attention.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” he grunts irritably, as he tries to put his phone back in his pocket.

He doesn’t get a response because Phoenix is already turning him towards the entryway, the room erupting in a series of hoots and hollers as the rest of the party takes notice of your costume.

You’re shifting a little on your feet under the attention, there’s a small shy smile on your face and you have your pretty eyes already trained on him.

Hangman wasn’t kidding when he said you had a better set of abs than him.

You’re wearing a pair of frayed light blue denim shorts with a truly impressive screen-printed washboard stomach is on full display tucked into them. Over that you had on the Hawaiian print shirt he’d left at your place on accident this morning, it was one of his favorites with all its bright colors, along with a pair of sunglasses dangling from the pocket.

There was no mistaking who you’ve come dressed up as, not with that striking press-on mustache you were wearing.

It’s all he can do to just stand there and stare at you.

You’ve always been so damn beautiful, and even with a felt mustache on your face, you can make his heart pound away in his chest. Not to mention, he really likes the way you look in his shirt.

Your face lights up as you take him in too. Your eyes sweeping over his two-sizes-too-small shirt and the white short-shorts that left nothing to the imagination.

There is such fondness on your face he can’t believe how he’d let himself get so twisted in knots.

He forgets about all of his friends and their commotion as he struts over to you taking your face between his hands and kissing you. You make a little noise of surprise that he uses to his advantage to slip his tongue into your mouth.

When one of his friends catcalls them, he waves them off with one of his hands, and then drops it down to your ass to pull you in closer to him.

A flash goes off, the light bright behind his eyes.

He can feel the laughter bubbling out of your chest before comes out of your mouth, even he fights to tamper down his own amusement in favor of kissing you more.

Pulling away Bradley gently takes your chin between his finger and thumb turning your head left and right to admire your costume of choice, up close and personal.

“I gotta say, sweetheart, you’re really working that mustache.”

“I get your attachment to it. I think I wear it pretty well,” you say looking very pleased with yourself. You reach up and affectionately brush your fingers along his own.

He’d thought about shaving it off for the sake of his costume, but ultimately couldn’t go through with it. And now he’s really glad he didn’t.

“It’s not just that ‘stache you’re wearing well,” Bradley says low just for her, toying with the hem of his shirt draped on you. “You know I like the way you look in my clothes.”

He can’t help up enjoy the way you’re getting bashful under his appreciative gaze and compliments.

“I had to make sure you got the shirt back somehow,” you say with a smile.

“So it can end up on the floor of my bedroom instead?” he teases, kissing your cheek.

“I like the sound of that, and not just because my bedroom looks like a crime scene.” He cocks his head at you, but you just shake your own at him in response before continuing, “But I’m letting you know right now, the mustache is staying on when you have your way with me.”

“You have yourself a deal as long as you share your routine with me,” he murmurs, running a finger down the line of the faux abs of your tank top. “Can’t say I remember seeing these this morning in the shower. I’ve got a girl to impress, so I’d be happy to show you how grateful I am for any tips and tricks.”

“Think you’re doing just fine in those short-short of yours,” you reply, taking a step back to give him a thorough once over, “What inspired this eyeful of an ensemble?”

“I knew the shorts would make my ass look good,” he says with a shrug that send you into a fit of giggles. He’s ready to skip the party all together, in favor of appreciating how good you look outside of your costume. Your eyes are dancing with amusement and he finds himself wanted to admit more, “And because, you know…”

He thought his costume idea had been pretty witty, but now he felt a little sheepish because he didn’t want you to think he was being corny. Sure the shorts had been the thing that sealed the deal, but he’d picked good boy Danny Zuko for a reason.

“No, Bradley, I don’t think I do. Will you explain it to me?”

“Summer lovin’ happened so fast and all that.”

“‘And all that’, huh?” And there’s that look of your, he was absolutely putty in your hands when you looked at him like that. “Ok, ok, but I need to know,” you pause for moment, and look up at him with a very serious expression, “Did you have yourself a blast?”

He watches as you bite your bottom lip trying not to laugh at your own joke.

And in that moment, he just knows.

The sureness had been taking up residence in his bones since he’d first convinced you that trying to keep it casual with you wouldn’t cut it for him.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I love you?” he asks, threading his fingers through beltloops to pull you in closer to him.

“While I’m wearing a tank top with a six-pack dressed up as you? Seems a little narcissistic, does it not?” He’s never seen your smile this big or this bright before.

He knows. He knows. He knows.

Rooster pulls you back in for a deep kiss.

“I love you too, Bradley,” you murmur against his lips.

He kisses you until he can’t keep the smile off of his face.

“Hey, Bradshaw!”

Surprised, he pulls away from you to see Nat waving him over. He takes your hand, ready to take you over with him.

“No, not you. The better Bradshaw,” Phoenix announces as she points at you, crooking a finger and holding out a shot syringe for you.

You pull him to you, giving him one more quick before floating over to join Nat near the kitchen.

He’s feeling more than a little dumbstruck in that moment.

And not just from the sight of your shapely legs in those cutoff jean shorts.

Bradley’s feet feel cemented to the wood floors beneath his black hightop converse as he watches you throw your head back in laughter at something Nat says.

He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he thinks his last name looks good on you.

You smile wide and beaming, your eyes shining as you turn to look at him from across the other side of the room.

Yeah, it looks really good on you.

Happy Halloween, Friends! This little moment has been living in my head since I posted my first ever fic on here, 'Oh Christmas Tree'! I'm so glad to finally release it to share with you! Thank you for reading!

If you want to find out what happened next for these two, just follow the link above!

If you're curious about what all of their costumes look like, you can see them here!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

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[singingcicadas]

The beginning of the Decepticons according to Megatron:

The beginning of the Decepticons What Actually Happened:

That it could ever be called a revolution of the oppressed is a joke. Megatron's philosophy is purely pugno ergo sum. I fight, therefore I am. His first recruitment speech was a promise for power, made to the most bloodthirsty audience he could dig up from the dregs of society. Those people were there because they thrived off the bloodsport. They wanted audition to join Megatron in the pits. Megatron offered them something even better: turn the entire planet into our gladiatorial arena, and we take.

Ever since the beginning Megatron viewed the Decepticons as nothing but a tool, to be used and thrown away. He wanted them to be as ruthless as possible in order to wipe out all opposition, but once his end goal's achieved, well, there's no place for ruthlessness in a perfect society under his absolute control. Therefore, remodelling and recreating. It doesn't sound like he wants to rule over actual people with individual personalities, he wants a bunch of mindless drones programmed for obeisance and peace and hardcoded to Do What Megatron Says.

Ravage and Tarn. It's interesting how they both use the word "emancipated" when lauding Megatron's accomplishments, when it's clear that Megatron did so for the practical purpose of bulking up his army. He overthrew those in power because he wanted to be the one in power. The only one. The people he "emancipated" were just exchanging one set of shackles for another, as they had no choice other than to join the Decepticon army. Not fighting was not an option. Cowardice was punishable by traitor's wheel. Going neutral was also not an option. Soundwave had specific anti-neutral pogroms for those.

I wonder if they knew what "the Megatron they loved" had in mind for the Decepticons after they won the war. The remodeling and recreating. Or maybe they thought that's just for the lowly genericons. That they would be exempt from such treatment because they were confident of their privileged places at Megatron's side. After all, if you're rooting for someone whose motto is peace through tyranny, you'd do so with the expectation that it's only Other People who are going to get tyrannized.

It's true that he did rise against an oppressive government, despite it being the goal to replace it with himself as the tyrant.

But he also thought the single admirable quality about Zeta was his ruthlessness. As in trying to kill an entire city of his own people to fuel his vamparc ribbon. And he said that in front of Hot Rod, who was forced to bomb his own city to stop Zeta from winning. Even disregarding the twisted values here, this is still fifteen levels up the insensitivity lane. No wonder Hot Rod didn't want to join up.

Torture's for fun and domination. It takes a special kind of sadistic streak. And this is before the war even officially started.

Thundercracker's view on the Decepticon cause, when he defected to save humans from the nuke:

"Everything we have done here" - Just here? He'd either been living under a rock for the entirety of the war or has some serious misunderstandings about what the Decepticon name is.

Or just been willfully blind for four million years and the deaths of a hundred billion lifeforms until the day he decided to grow a conscience. Same with Soundwave.

Tarn's a really good case study because he's the poster boy of Megatron's Decepticon propaganda. Megatron probably spoonfeeds him the stuff by the gigabytes and he regurgitates them with twice the zeal and tenfold the pretentiousness. He's also the embodiment of the vices and tragedy of the Decepticons as a whole, as created by Megatron. A sadistic hypocrite, a glorified thug, a delusional fanatic, a customized tool for use and dispose. Crippled by the blinkering desire to be superior, to be part of a greater cause.

Megatron cares nothing for Tarn, just like how he cares nothing for the Decepticons. During the war they were a means to an end. After Megatron's defection, their "toxic loyalty" became a personal burden, a blemish from his past that he would like to cast aside and move on from but annoyingly refuse to leave him alone.

The road-sweepers and the haulers. The miners. What were they to Megatron during the war? Disposable cannon fodder. A pretty banner to hide behind. For a movement that likes to justify itself as a revolution of the oppressed, the emancipation of the disenfranchised, there's certainly a distinct lack of those classes among the upper Decepticon ranks. Megatron said in his recruitment speech that he wanted strength and power. Then where did that leave the weak and sick, the empties on the streets?

Nowhere but the smelting pool, to be recycled into something useful for the great Decepticon cause. They should be honoured, really.

Freedom fighters? No, freedom won't be missed. Probably has something to do with the remodelling and recreating part.

Starscream's only partially right. It was absolutely Megatron's intent to tap into that well of rage and resentment, and he meant for the riot to happen. Of course it got away from him in the end - that's what happens when you cobble an army out of bloodthirsty power-hungry degenerates, half of which were on board for the violence, half for their own scheming agendas, and the rest stitched together by charisma and fear - but he'd shaped the events enough to come a hairsbreadth away from winning multiple times. People like Shockwave and Scorponok were treacherous, but they weren't the reason that Megatron lost the war.

It was his own blind arrogance that led to his downfall.

No he didn't lose his way. He's exactly where he set himself out to be, from the moment he gave that speech in the arena. Perhaps even earlier, to that gradual slide when killing his opponent in a match no longer felt like a guilty burden but instead brought him the sweet rush of satisfaction. There was no revolution. There was no righteous cause. There was no for the people and never has been, because he did not care about other people. Four million years and countless deaths, and it was only really about one insanely self-centered person and his deluded ambition of peace through tyranny.

Hence his breakdown, because he'd just been hit in the face with the realization that he was Wrong. And has been wrong for the past four million years. He wasted everyone's lives. He wasted his own life, wasted it on anger and destruction and hatred, with nothing but regrets to show for it.

I believe that Megatron believed he's telling the truth here. I believe that he meant every word he said, except for that one "we" on the second last line.

Because that "we" should really be "me".

The Megatron who wrote about pacifist rhetoric, who was compassionate enough to share his fuel with the injured, who cared about others and had genuine friendships, that Megatron died a long time ago in the pits. Ever since then, every murder, every atrocity he'd committed in the name of "the people" was just facist rationalization.

I'm sure that he likes the sound of "emancipation of the people" or "freedom of choice" as a concept. But when it comes down to individual people? With actual, real choices that conflicts with his desire for absolute rule? Nope. He's the only one who should get to make choices. The only one who should have choices. Because he knows best.

Form dictates your function ❌; Megatron dictates your function ✅

Function dictates your fate ❌; Megatron dictates your fate ✅

Great minds must think alike, because Megatron and the Functionalist council in the Functionalist universe did a lot of the same stuff. Massacring the Senate. Recycling people who are deemed useless burdens. Remodelling and recreating. Imperalism and genociding organics. Killing all dissenters. The Functionalists even got pretty close to Megatron's ideal of peace through tyranny with 99% of the planet fitted with brain bombs and kissing the ground at their feet. They even managed to do it while maintaining a habitable planet and full population. And Megatron took one look and was disgusted.

Megatron wasn't a misunderstood revolutionist who had his heart in the right place when he started his war. The Decepticons didn't start out well-meaning and turned bad somewhere along the way. At no point in their movement were they ever true freedom fighters. They were always Facists, through and through. They were worse than the Functionalists they hated and the Senate they overthrew. And it's important to acknowledge this because (other than it's weird to see such an obvious Facist analogy being associated with freedom fighters) otherwise you don't get the whole depth of Megatron's redemption arc, especially in the Functionalist universe.

Like the impact of this scene wouldn't be fully apparant unless you take into account that when Megatron first formed the Decepticons, all he cared about was their fighting strength. He did not care about his troops, he did not care about individual people. He considered himself above everyone and everything. He would have sneered at such a weak, ineffective form of protest. Now he's actually being supportive and seeing people as people, instead of pawns to be used.

Here he's genuinely happy to see the Decepticons, even those in the very bottom of the pecking order, taking enough care to greet them each by name. And also Fulcrum, who he sentenced to death twice.

For once in his life he's actually trying to do the Right Thing instead of focusing on himself, either on his ambitions or his remorse. The people in the Functionalist universe have nothing to do with him, yet he wants to help anyway. And he's finally appreciating the value of self-determination for what it is, instead of trying to twist it to serve his own purposes or turn it into Megatron-determination.

"No one can decide how you live your life except for you." Back before, he was going to remodel his entire army to achieve his peace through tyranny. Autonomy and free will were considered things that won't be missed.

Megatron learned to care about other people! Peace through empathy is such a groundbreaking step for his character because he used to have no empathy! He stayed true to his ideals for eight centuries despite the hardships, despite his personal losses, despite the AVL being driven to near extinction and not knowing if he would ever return to his own universe. During all those years he could have had ten million chances and excuses to break his vow of pacifism or leave on the Last Light, taking the easy way out, and there would have been no one to stop him.

But he didn’t.

[morbific-or-felicific]

-AGNOSTHESIA PART 2 Featuring Scaramouche & Kazuha

Part 1 Part 2

Meaning: The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person

Word Count: 2k~

Description: A study session at Scaramouche’s dorm end with you getting fucked my him and his roommate(Kazuha)

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

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You were shivering slightly as you knocked on the door. It was pouring outside, and you had gotten absolutely soaked when you had run over to your boyfriend's dorm building for your study session. You would have grabbed an umbrella or something, but you thought you would be fine with just a hoodie.

Scaramouche opened the door and somehow already looked upset.

“Do you not own an umbrella?”

“I didn’t think I would need it…”

“You’re an idiot. You know that, right?”

“Shut up and let her in, Scaramouche.”

Kazuha was sitting on the couch reading and apparently didn’t feel like dealing with Scaramouche’s idiocy. Scaramouche rolled his eyes and moved aside so you could come in, and Kazuha returned to his book. You set down your bag by one of the couches, and another shiver ran through you. Your boyfriend sighed.

“You’re going to get sick. Go get in the shower. I’ll put some clothes in the bathroom for you.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond. He just went to his room to look for something dry for you to wear. You sighed. You didn’t really have a choice, and he was probably right anyway, so you made your way to the bathroom without any protest.

Scaramouche was definitely right. The warm water was making you feel a lot better. As the water flowed down your body, you looked around the shower. You had showered at their dorm before, but every time, the duality of the products in there cracked you up. There was Scaramouche’s two-in-one shampoo and conditioner along with his two-in-one face and body wash. Then there was Kazuha's array of colour protecting hair products, hair masks, exfoliating scrubs, and an almost empty bottle of red hair dye that had no business being in the shower.

When you were done warming up, you got out of the shower and dried off your hair the best you could before putting on the pair of sweatpants and the t-shirt that was miraculously too big for you. Then you hung up all of your clothes, as well as your bra, on the shower curtain rod to dry before heading back to the living room.

Kazuha was sitting in the same spot as before, reading his book, but now there was a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him. Across from him, Scaramouche had a cup placed in front of where he was seated as well. You noticed that there was one next to him that was probably meant for you.

You grabbed your bag, sat next to your boyfriend, and started pulling out your textbooks and your notebook, placing them in a pile on the coffee table. Scaramouche raised his eyebrows disapprovingly at your actions.

“Are you sure you’re ready to start studying?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You were a little confused. You had warmed up in the shower and were wearing dry clothes. What more could he want you to do?

“I think he’s just worried that you haven’t warmed up enough yet.”

Kazuha made his comment without looking up from his book.

“Baby, I’m dry now. I'm all good. Don't worry.”

There was a smug little smile on Scaramouche’s lips that gave you a bad feeling.

“But are you warmed up?”

“Y'know,” Kazuha was still staring at his book. “You really have to make sure that you’ve completely warmed up.”

You rolled your eyes at the two of them.

“Okay, give me a blanket or something.”

Scaramouche’s smile grew. He picked up your bag and moved it onto the floor next to the couch.

“Why don’t you get on my lap?”

You turned bright red. What was he thinking? Kazuha was right there! You could see him gently smiling behind his book, which just made it all the more mortifying.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Kazuha wouldn’t mind, right?”

Kazuha finally set down his book and looked you in the eye.

“Not at all.”

“But, we can’t, that’s-”

Scaramouche kissed you, effectively cutting you off.

You stared at him with wide eyes as he pulled away before speaking.

“Just relax and let us warm you up. Okay, dummy?”

You blushed, looking down at your hands. You nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Okay…”

“Come on, say it like you normally would. Tell Kazuha what you call me.”

Your blush intensified and you couldn’t get yourself to look at either of them. You sat there, quietly trying to get yourself to speak, but you just couldn’t.

Scaramouche got bored of your silence and grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Speak.”

“Sorry, master…”

Scaramouche’s face morphed back into a pleased expression, and he released your face.

“Good girl.”

Kazuha was watching the two of you, eyes sparkling with fascination.

“Wow, she really is a good little slut. You weren’t lying.”

Kazuha’s kind tone while degrading you drove you insane.

“Come on, are you going to disobey me?”

“No. Sorry, master.”

You started climbing onto his lap, but before you could, he stopped you.

“Actually, stand up. I want you to strip for us.”

“What…?”

“Are you going to disobey me, pet?”

“No, Master. I’m sorry.”

You stood up, facing Scaramouche, and started undoing the bow on the sweatpants you had borrowed. They dropped to your feet, and you pulled your panties down after them. You felt yourself turn even more red, if that was even possible. Next, you pulled your t-shirt over your head, bracing for the fact that there was nothing covering your boobs at the moment. Scaramouche let out an appreciative hum at your obedience. It was embarrassing enough when you were naked in front of just your boyfriend, but being naked in front of him and his best friend while they were fully clothed? It was humiliating.

“Come here. Now.”

You went to straddle his lap, but once again, you were stopped.

“Turn around and face Kazuha. You want him to have a good view, don’t you?”

You looked at the ground, still bright red as you turned around to face Kazuha. You sat back on your boyfriend's lap, and you felt his hands slide up your sides.

“I’m going to fuck you, and he is going to watch the entire time. Then I’m going to let him fuck you.”

You nodded, still not making eye contact with the man sitting across from you. You felt your boyfriend reach between your legs.

“Hah, you’re so fucking wet.”

“I think the desperate whore wants us to fuck her.”

You whined at Kazuha’s sweet tone mixed with his degrading words.

A moan escaped your lips when you felt your boyfriend start to draw circles on your clit. Scaramouche moved his fingers back so they were lined up with your hole and pushed them inside. Again, you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you as he fucked his fingers in and out of you. When he added a third finger, your moans became more desperate, needing something more than his fingers inside of you so badly.

“Huh, she really does sound pathetic.”

“I’m not- ah!”

You were cut off by your boyfriend using his other hand to play with your clit, all while fucking you.

“‘Ah, mmm hah, I can’t- mmm, feels so good!’”

Scaramouche mocked your moans egged on by kazuha’s comment.

“You’re close, but you don’t sound as worthless.”

Your boyfriend threw his head back laughing, clearly enjoying himself.

He stopped playing with you and placed his hands on your hips. He lifted you up until you were just kneeling over him. You heard him fiddling with his pants and knew what was coming next, or at least, you thought you did. However, before you could sit down on your boyfriend’s cock, you felt the whole world shift, and all of a sudden, you were face down, ass up, on the couch.

“Scaramouche. What are you- ahhhh!”

He pulled you up by your hair until your back was against his chest.

“Fleshlights don’t talk.”

With that, he pushed you back down onto the couch. Your face was somehow still pointed towards Kazuha, so you made an attempt to turn it away. Immediately, you felt a smack on your ass, making you yelp.

“Fleshlights don’t move either.”

You wanted to apologize, but you were afraid of what would happen if you spoke without permission.

Your boyfriend lined himself up with you and pushed inside in one stroke, making your face scrunch up and causing you to let out a pained whine. He didn’t give you any time to adjust before he started fucking you hard and fast, making your closed eyes shoot open.

The first thing you noticed when your eyes opened back up was Kazuha watching you intently as he languidly stroked his cock. You made eye contact with him, and he smiled gently at you. He continued to stare you down as Scaramouche started drawing fast circles on your clit, and your moans got even louder.

“Fuck, you’re really getting off to me fucking you in front of my best friend? You’re such a whore.”

He hauled you up again, this time with his hand around your throat. He tightened his grip and whispered in your ear.

“I bet you’re excited to get fucked by him. You want me to watch as you fuck my best friend like the little whore you are?”

His words mixed with the rush of him choking you pushed you over the edge. Your whole body tensed up, and you had to bite your lip hard to stop the little scream that was trying to make its way out of your throat.

“Oh fuck.”

Your boyfriend moaned at the feeling of you cumming around him. You felt the rhythm of his thrusts become disconnected before he came in you. You felt his cum warm your insides, and you let out a happy little sigh.

“Does she really feel that good?”

Scaramouche shrugged.

“Hah, I guess.”

You could already feel Scaramouche’s cum dripping down your thighs as Kazuha stood up and walked over to you. He knelt on the couch in front of you.

“Wait what are you…?”

You were confused. He wasn’t actually going to fuck you, was he? But Scaramouche was already inside of you…

Your question was quickly answered when he rested his hand on your waist and started pushing his cock inside of you. You let out a whine at being stretched so much. It hurt, and you were still so sensitive.

“Fuck, she does feel good.”

They started fucking you, and you felt like you were going to cum just from the situation alone. The fact that your boyfriend and his best friend were both balls deep inside of you was driving you wild. Not to mention how unbelievably full you felt. You didn’t care about the pain because the pleasure was worth it.

After only a few moments, you were cumming again.

“Fuck, you really are so fucking pathetic. You like taking two cocks at once, huh?”

“Come on, be nice. She’s a slut. She can’t help it.”

You were whining at the overstimulation but still made sure not to talk.

They continued fucking you until they were both getting close to their ends. However, before they were done, they both pulled out and stood up.

“Get on your knees.”

You were confused but did as you were told.

“Fuck, she’s so obedient.”

“She knows her place. She’s my toy, afterall.”

The two men stood in front of you, and after a few moments, they both came on your face. You had your mouth open and eyes closed, just like Scaramouche had taught you. You were such a good toy.

Finally, it was over. You were exhausted and now covered in cum, and the boys were done. Well, Scaramouche was, but Kazuha didn’t feel like pushing either of you for more. Your boyfriend scooped you up and carried you to his room, placing you in the bed. He disappeared, returning shortly after with a warm cloth to help clean you up. He covered you with blankets and laid next to you while Kazuha went back to his book.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez

morbific-or-felicific

[lord-squiggletits]

Rodimus for the Bingo

IDW Rodimus:

The only character I hate more than Drift, but unlike Drift (who I mostly hate for meta reasons like being boring, Mary Sue-ish, and other personal things), I actually hate Rodimus due to specific things he did in the story and how those were never really addressed at all XD

(Copious Rodimus hate under the cut, if he's your comfort character and you're sensitive about him then definitely don't read.)

Maybe hate is a strong word? I don't have like, a burning hatred for him like he's evil and horrible and should just die. I hate him like... I want to beat him up and steal his lunch money. I want to bully him until he cries and then laugh at him. I want to marry Optimus just so that I can give him mommy issues to match his daddy issues. I want that twink obliterated.

Like it's just so fucking funny to me because the IDW fandom in general is like "haha Rodimus is a funny himbo twink that's silly and stupid" but then I read his story and THE WAY PEOPLE TALK ABOUT HIM DIDN'T WARN ME that Rodimus does shit like be jealous of anyone who's more popular/well liked than him (literally being happy Thunderclash is dying), tell Chromedome to perform mnemosurgery on an unconscious person without their consent (imagine having fewer moral scruples than fucking MEGATRON) despite the fact that it was killing Chromedome AND Rewind didn't want Chromedome to risk his health, imprisoning Getaway under absolutely horrific conditions that not even mechs like Overlord had to suffer... Using Rung as living bait was kind of sus too even though Rodimus never intended for Rung to actually be harmed. Oh also when Overlord escaped the Lost Light, Rodimus seemed more butthurt about how HE didn't get to be the heroic one saving the ship than he was about respecting the lost lives of the people killed during his escape. Imagine being so egotistical that you're more concerned about yourself during a period of mourning than you are the crew members you're responsible for.

Oh, and on top of that he's inattentive, lazy, can't keep up with the basic logistical responsibilities of running a ship, and doesn't respect his officers (mostly Magnus). Not only is he a POS insecure little brat, he can't even handle the basic responsibilities that come with leadership. He can't even listen to Roller complaining to him about Chromedome/Rewind violating his bodily integrity without being completely apathetic and literally saying he doesn't care. BEING A LEADER MEANS LISTENING TO PEOPLE'S COMPLAINTS AND RESOLVING PERSONAL DISPUTES AND ACTING AS IF YOU CARE EVEN IF YOU'RE TIRED AND DON'T WANT TO DEAL WITH IT. Rodimus wants all of the glory of being a leadership without wanting the burdens and responsibilities that come with it, whether they're large or small, and as someone who has had a couple leadership positions in my life that frankly disgusts me lmao. He's a manchild who wants to stay in the kitchen but can't take the heat and gets mad when other people are more liked than him. Because people like Thunderclash and Optimus are actually smart, talented, charismatic, heroic, and responsible, while he's just a little brat who's lead around life by his own tender, easily bruised ego. Lol. Lmao.

No wonder half the ship fucking mutinied. Rodimus is like the worst captain ever and LITERALLY THE ONLY REASON HE WASN'T REMEMBERED AS A SHIT CAPTAIN is because Getaway was an even more garbage piece of shit captain (which I've already made multiple posts regarding how I think Getaway was massively wasted as a character).

Rodimus is just a fucking awful person hiding under a cheerful facade. He's a little bitch and I want to yeet him into a horse plinko. He's a sad, strange little man, and he has my pity.

[questionableratatouille00]

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ʙᴏᴅɪᴇꜱ (ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴏᴅɪᴇꜱ)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: Bathing suit shopping is hell on Earth. Even for Bucky.

Warnings: minor fatphobia, shame, body dysmorphia (B), lmk if anything else needs to be added.

Bucky smiled, pushing the cart as the two of you walked through the aisles. So far, you’d grabbed cereal, some fruit, some other household items, and now you were looking at swim suits. 

“What do you think about this one?” You jokingly grabbed a Bluey toddler’s one piece and held it up to your chest.

“It’s just my size.” You grinned. 

“Yeah, it’ll fit you like a glove.” Bucky snickered, playing along. Committing to the bit. 

You set the one piece back on the rack, shaking your head and smiling. You walked to your section of the store, looking through swim suits. Red ones, blue ones, even lime green ones.

“Ooh, I like this one.” You pulled one off the rack. You knew what your size was, and to your surprise, this was exactly it. Finding a swimsuit was your own personal hell, but you really liked this one. Plus, it wasn’t a million fucking dollars! A steal.

“That’d be gorgeous on you.” Bucky agreed. “But, y’know. Everything is.”

“You’re sweet, babe.” You kissed him quickly. 

You set your swimsuit in the cart. Leading him to the men’s section, you began to look through swimming trunks.

“Pineapples on a light blue background?” You offered him.

“Honey, half of those are upside down. Wrong message, this summer.” He chuckled.

You snickered, setting it back on the rack.

“Red, blue, green.” You showcased.

“The green ones look nice.” He murmured, grabbing the hanger. He felt the material, a look coming up on his face.

“What?” You tilted your head.

“The..texture on the inside. Doesn’t feel nice.” He hummed, setting the hanger back on it’s rod.

“How about this blue one?” You handed him another pair.

He seemed unsure, but then nodded. “I like these.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded again, setting them in the cart.

And that was that. 

“C’mon, babe, we’re gonna be late!” You called as you grabbed your sunglasses and pool bag, adjusting your coverup. 

When you got no response, you set the back down by the door and walked towards the bedroom. You walked inside without knocking.

“Babe?” 

Bucky jumped, before relaxing. “I—“ 

You looked at him. The trunks sat naturally a little low on his hips, and he looked fucking hot.

He was standing in front of the full length mirror, and he held himself with his arms.

“What’s wrong?” You frowned.

“I dunno. I just..don’t look good in this.” He admitted sheepishly.

“What are you talking about?” You raised a brow. “You look amazing, baby.” You walked into the room, standing beside him in the mirror. 

“Look at this.” He places his hand on his lower abdomen, below his belly button. He was a little softer right there—uncharacteristically, due to the nature of the rest of his body. 

But it didn’t look bad by any means. It was just the place where his body tended to be softer. 

“I’m looking. You look great.” You hummed.

“Babe, it’s clear I’ve gained a few pounds.” He looked at you like a kicked puppy.

“So? Humans do that. You’re still sexy and lovable and desirable.” You reason. 

“I looked better a few years ago.” He said frustratedly. 

“Babe, a few years ago you were recovering from escaping HYDRA. You were literally being starved and you were somehow muscular. That’s not normal or expected of you, babe. If anything, I’m glad you’ve gained back some weight. You were constantly not feeling well back then.” You reminded. 

He doesn’t seem convinced, but he nods. 

“You’re beautiful—whether you’re skin and bones or chubby. Neither of those are bad—what’s good is what feels the best for you, baby.” You reason. 

“Everyone’s talking about having and making summer bodies. I don’t..I don’t think this is what I should be.” He frowned. 

“Baby—that’s all just bullshit made up by stupid influencers. Your summer body is the body you have. Every body is a summer body. And a good body, babe. I mean it.” 

He nods slowly. “Thanks, doll. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now let’s go, or Tony’s gonna be on my ass about being late to his pool party.” You take his hand and lead him out of the bedroom. 

graphics by @thecutestgrotto

If you enjoyed, please reblog and/or comment! I love to hear your thoughts 💕

A/n: yes I know it’s August and the bulk of summer has passed but still. still

[briarmoon1015]

I think I’ve already confessed that I’m not a big birdflash fan, but there is something I really gotta point out because it’s bothering me.

I see a lot of people use specific comic panels to try and show how close these two characters are, but completely miss the whole point of the comic itself.

For example, I’ve seen a lot of people use panels from The Flash 1987 210, in which Wally reflects on his relationship with dick.

The problem with this is they are literally cutting out the next part of the page that explains that they have drifted apart

Wally is extremely different from dick, and once he takes up the flash mantle, it becomes clear that these two characters are on different paths. Wally wants to uphold the legacy of the flash, dick desperately wants to escape the legacy of Batman. Wally has a wife, three children, and a stable job. Dicks life changes at a moments notice, one minute he’s broke, one minute he’s rich, sometimes he has a job as a police officer, sometimes he’s dating one of his many red headed girlfriends, he’s the opposite of stable.

And that’s not to say the different characters can’t be friends or be together, but as this same comic shows, these two often struggle to understand one another once adults

Wally, after zoom caused his wife Linda to have a miscarriage, went to Hal as the spectre for help, which no one liked, including Dick. He is somewhat miffed Wally didn’t come to him, be he also sides with Bruce about how reckless and stupid the action was

He definitely empathizes with Wally’s situation, but he’s not really there to give support. Later on, dick does start to get the point, and the two take down gorilla grod. Dick apologies for his actions and both agree to stay in touch more. Obviously every good friendship is going to have some moments of tension and disagreement, but I think this really shows why Wally and Dick fell apart as adults.

And this really is the crux of why I’m personally not a big fan or birdflash. These two characters are inherently different and it’s so rare for me to see any birdflash content that acknowledges this. They can be together in a way that acknowledges and builds off of this, but it really hasn’t been done.

More importantly, I’ve noticed that to make burdflash work, a lot of fans completely erase Wally’s character to ignore these differences. His own goals, his own backstory, his own relationships, are just gone so he can be with dick. There is never any acknowledgment of the canon of Wally’s own motivations, such as living up to the flash mantle, or any mention of his connections to characters outside of Dick.

Even more so, I think erasing the presence of his wife and kids from his life so he can be with dick is really hard on the character. Linda is so essential in Wally’s life. She is the character in which speedsters learn the importance of having a lightning rod. She is the one to often push Wally to keep going. His kids redefined his life. He literally broke the source wall in order to keep them in his life. These are essential relationships that are just erased from Wally’s life.

As someone who truly prefers Wally over Dick, it hurts to see a potentially good pairing erase the good aspects of Wally like this. There is plenty of erasure done to other dc characters because of how popular the Bats are, and this ship, at least to me, is one of the worst examples. These characters are different, and often times it makes it hard for them to understand each other. Ignoring that issue doesn’t make the ship good in my eyes.

Anyways, I really don’t want to poop on birdflash as a whole. It is by no means a bad ship, I personally just don’t really like it. It has a lot of qualities that bother me. Despite all of this though, I do love seeing people’s art of it and I actually do think it can work a bit better when they are young and apart of the teen titans. I also know as a halbarry shipper I’m throwing rocks in a glass house lmao. But please ship what you like, I really don’t care, I just needed to shout into the void about my feelings around it :)

[borathae]

“The story of how you convinced your awesome boyfriend to ride your face.”

Pairing: Cowboy!Taehyung x Mechanic!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Countrylife!AU, Slice of Life!AU, Smut

Warnings: subby!Taehyung, Dom!Reader, shameless flirting, Taehyung is a needy boyfriend, making out, needy fumbling, Tae’s hands are doing hot things, face riding, rimjob (m.receiving), handjob, allusions to oral for her, he’s a little sceptical at first but loves it in the end, they are happy & in love

Wordcount: 8.1k

a/n: This is Only Yesterday!Taehyung because I may have a lil crush on him. Also PtD!Taehyung is the sole inspiration for this ngngn 🥵 I also wanna state that I fucking love the OY universe, it's so comfy and makes me feel so snuggly hhahfhah. have fun besties 🤍

“This is stupid. I ain’t gon' do that”, Taehyung says, shaking his head.

The two of you were on a lovely date today. You took Taehyung out for dinner earlier, but you are long back at your place. Now cuddling in bed whilst listening to some music.

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun”, you say, wiggling your brows at him. 

“It’s 'cause, I don’t like nothin' close to my butt.”

“Really? So you don’t even wash yourself?” you tease, knowing very well that Taehyung was a very clean person. You just like to tease him.

“Ew no, I ain’t nasty, ‘course I wash my own ass. But I just don’t want nothin' stuck into it.”

“I'm not gonna stick anything into it”, you laugh, “I just want you riding my face.”

“Yeah, but that’s like weird. I'm no girl.”

You roll your eyes. 

“Oh come now, it’s 2023, let's not go there.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. I ain’t no sexist. I just feel weird about it”

“Why?”

“What you mean why? I just do. You know how the guys gon' look at me when they find out I sat on my girl's face? They gon' laugh at me.”

“Okay, I hear you. I'm sorry I brought it up. You obviously don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with”, you assure him and peck his cheek. 

“Thanks, you’re really sweet. It means a lot”, he says, reaching out to pinch your own. 

“Just so you know though. The guys would never find out. I don’t talk to them about the sex we have.”

“Good you don’t”, he laughs, “that'd be hella weird if you did.”

“Yeah, right”, you agree, laughing right with him. 

Taehyung rolls over and cages in your head between his elbows.

“What?” you stop laughing.

“Nothin’, I just like listenin’ to you laugh”, he says, kissing you deeply afterwards.

“Mhm babe”, you mumble into him, making sure that he won’t leave your lips for the rest of the night by hooking your arms behind his head.

It was a hard day at the garage today. The sun was sweltering and as a result, the heat was almost unbearable. You spent most of your day under a car, sweating your ass off and trying to fix a problem which didn’t seem to want to reveal itself. It turned out to be a faulty tie rod. You proceeded to spend the other half of your shift replacing it. 

“Hello”, a familiar voice draws you out from under the car.

“Hey there babe, whatcha doin' here?” you greet your boyfriend, standing up for the first time in hours. You groan, stretching out your back, “goddamn, my back is fucked.”

Taehyung acts instantly. He gets behind you and gives your shoulders a massage. 

“Wow, thanks babe”, you say. 

“You sweatin' so much”, Taehyung says. 

“Yeah, it’s so hot. I literally can’t stand the heat.”

“Yeah today’s boilin'. We had to get the cows outside too 'cause they'd died of a heat stroke inside. Now they all chillin' by the stream.”

“That sounds like a good life. Just chilling by the stream, in the shadow and with no hot car above you.”

“Yeah, I figure. Wanna sit in the shadow for some?”

“Sure, we can do that.”

You have a small umbrella behind your garage. There was a pair of plastic chairs and a small matching table underneath it. Taehyung drags you on top of his lap, earning himself a loud whine from you. 

“You're literally kidding. I'm so hot.”

“You gon' stay here”, he wraps his arms around you.

“Tae, I’m so sweaty.”

“I don’t care, I’m sweaty too. I just came from the fields. That’s why I’m dressed like that.”

Red sturdy cotton from top to bottom and with a brown cowboy hat perched atop of his head. He also has his boots on and wears a bandana around his wrist. 

“You look handsome”, you tell him, “I look like shit though.”

Grey work suit opened and pulled down to your hips. Your white tanktop is soaked in sweat and covered in black grease stains. Just as are your arms and some parts of your face. 

“You look sexy, I’m into it.”

You roll your eyes at him fondly. 

“Course you are.”

Taehyung smirks lazily and lets his hands slip to the inside of your thighs. 

“No. Behave.”

“Why not? I've not seen you in so long. I'm lonely.”

“We saw each other last night. You had breakfast at my place.”

“Yeah, that’s ages ago. Miss you like crazy, babe”, he says and puckers his lips for a quick kiss.

“Behave, Tae”, you warn in a chuckle.

“Why?” he whines. 

“Cause I'm coming over later anyways. Don’t taint my reputation.”

Taehyung chuckles, dancing his hands closer to your middle. 

“Tae”, you slap them away gently, “keep your grimy fingers to yourself.”

“They ain't grimy. I washed them”, he whines, retreating them and placing them on your hips instead. 

“You know how I meant it. You’re way too horny.”

He chuckles and kisses your shoulder. Despite all the grease and sweat and dirt, he kisses your shoulder. And he loves doing it.

“I can't help it, it’s your fault ‘cause you’re so hot.”

You turn on his lap, placing your feet down with a loud stomp before letting yourself fall down right on his cock. He moans at that, widening his eyes in surprise. 

“So you think I’m hot?”

“Goddamn babe, you gon' make me hard.”

“Behave.”

“It's kinda hard when you sittin’ on my cock.”

“Oh? My bad, sorry”, you fake your guilt, slipping down his lap all to his dismay, “better?”

“Don't know, now I want you ridin’ me.”

You give his chest a gentle slap. 

“Hush, we're in public.” 

“Fuck babe, don’t you wanna leave early? Wanna have you right now”, Taehyung whines, tugging at your hips needily. 

“No, I have to finish the repairs. The customer is gonna pick up the car tomorrow and I need to finish it before that.”

“Tell your employees to do it.”

“No, I'm not gonna give my employees more work just ‘cause you’re horny.”

“That's unfair.”

“No, it’s not. I'm a fair boss.”

“No, it’s unfair to me.”

You roll your eyes.

“I'll ride you in a few hours.”

“Do it now.”

“No. Why are you so horny today?” 

“Cause I miss you and I was thinkin' about what we talked about.”

“What do you mean?”

“The thing about the rimjob.”

“Oh that. I thought the topic was off the table.”

“Yeah, I thought ‘bout it some more and maybe I ain't that against it anymore.”

“You watched porn about it, didn’t you?”

He flusters just slightly.

“Don't judge me.”

“I'm not, you can watch whatever you want”, you nudge his chest, “so you watched porn about it. Liked it?”

“Yeah well, maybe, I don’t know. I can’t say it didn’t make me hard.”

You chuckle.

“Don't laugh, I ain't proud of it.”

“Tae, it's totally fine. I’m the one who brought it up, it should be obvious that I'm into it.”

“Okay, you right about that. Sorry, I’m just weird about it.”

“No, you’re alright. Discovering new things about yourself can be scary.”

He nods his head. 

“So you wanna try it tonight?” you ask him.

“Don't know about tonight, I still gotta think more about it.”

“Alright, then we'll do something else tonight.”

“Yeah, you ride me and I make you cum.”

You laugh.

“Alright, I ride you and you make me cum. Twice.”

He smirks lazily, giving your hips a soft squeeze, “deal.”

“Good. Deal”, you say and give his chest a soft slap, “break's over, I've got a car to fix.”

You get up from his lap. 

“Yeah, I gotta go too. I just came here for a quick talk. I gotta go back to the fields again.” 

“Alright then, I’ll come around at seven.”

“Yeah, I’ll be waitin’. Oh yeah and don’t eat somethin’, Seokjin’s cookin’ dinner tonight.” 

“Ooh nice, now I'm even more excited.”

Taehyung leaves after giving you a loving smooch on the lips and a playful spank on your butt. And you continue your task of fixing the car. 

You ride Taehyung that night and it leaves the both of you entirely blissed-out. You leave early the next day, letting him sleep. And Taehyung sends you a sweet text once he wakes up, thanking you for last night.

You met Taehyung around a year ago. You couldn’t stand him at first. He wasn’t rude or gave you any other reasons for why you should have hated him, but you still did. You hated a lot of people back then. Especially men. Now stay with this story, we are getting there. You hated them because your environment quite frankly made you hate them. Your dad was a drunk, your grandfather was an abuser and your cousins were all terrible husbands. Your job also regularly showed you just how etched the old school sexism was in your town's men. Some would leave with their faulty cars because “a woman could never find the issue, let alone fix it properly”, some would ask if “Missy needs to take care of the garage for the day cause the hubby got drunk last night”, some would just straight up ask where the real boss – they meant your husband – was, despite your garage carrying your name and your name only. You were unmarried, if one may add this little fact. Now, it was a very small town. Not more than a thousand people, surrounded by big fields and with roads that weren’t the best for a car's health. There was another village close by. Up in the mountains and with not more than two hundred people. But your garage was the only garage in this valley. It still didn’t excuse the passionate sexism so many people showed.

Taehyung visited your garage about a year ago with his brothers Seokjin and Namjoon. Their truck had broken down and with the help of their oxen, they towed it all the way from their farm to your garage. It was quite the peculiar image indeed.

There were many things wrong with their truck. Brittle breaks, a broken oil filter which resulted in motor issues and they hadn’t cleaned out their aircon in years either. 

This still wasn’t the reason why you couldn’t stand Taehyung at first however. It was because he was playful and flirty and talked to you with a sort of childish carelessness and not once did he question why a single woman was the boss of a garage. On the contrary, he found it pretty awesome that you were. And this enraged you, because as much as you tried to find another reason for “why all men sucked”, you couldn’t find one thing about him that sucked. Now, his brothers were awesome too, but his brothers were both married already, so of course you weren't gonna mess with them. But Taehyung was single and very obviously interested in you. 

He began visiting your garage even long after you fixed their truck. At first he came with canting questions about cars and trucks and “his brothers sent him to get something” but as weeks turned into a month, he stopped pretending to visit you professionally. And one day he brought flowers. One day he came to your garage, dressed in his best clothes, with flowers in his hands and a shy grin on his lips and then he asked you for a date. And you pretended not to have time at first until Taehyung gave you a pout and you pretended to magically make space for him in your schedule. 

And the rest is history. He visited you with flowers or chocolates or other cute presents, you went on more and more dates, you shared your first kiss, you asked him to be your boyfriend and Taehyung said yes. 

Now you are here. One year later, terribly in love with each other and happier than ever. Taehyung is truly the best boyfriend ever. He is actually such an awesome boyfriend that you managed to shed your sometimes misplaced hatred against men and now changed it to “some men suck, not because they’re men but because society made it easier for them to be shitty people without consequences”. It was quite the big step for you, but Taehyung made it easy to do.

Taehyung visits your garage on Tuesday again. Five days after you rode him in his childhood bedroom with your hands around his throat.

“Hey babe”, he greets you.

You turn, “oh? Hey there handsome stranger, what brings you here?”

“We made bread today, I got you some”, he says, lifting a little basket filled with two loaves of bread into your vision, “got you some cheese to go with it.”

“That's so sweet, thank you so much Tae. You guys' bread's always so good”, you accept the gift with a fluttering heart. 

“You gon' like that one 'cause it's got a thick crust.”

“Just how I like it. You know me so well.”

“Yeah, gotta be best boyfriend of the year”, he says and grins cutely, earning himself a sneaky little kiss.

You feel scandalous doing it because you've got customers next to you, but Taehyung is too cute not to kiss. 

He flusters accordingly, knees buckling and body drawing closer to you instinctively while his gaze becomes oh so dreamy. 

“You're already the best boyfriend of the century”, you say, soothing over the spot you kissed before pulling away shyly.

“Hehe”, he lets out, grin growing.

“But what brings you here?”

“I wanted to see you”, he says.

“Aren't you coming over later?”

“I am, just wanted to tell you that I've been lookin' forward to it the entire day.”

“Me too. You're so cute.”

Taehyung steps closer, lowering his lips to your ear. The gesture speeds up your heart tremendously. 

“I made a decision”, he whispers seductively, “I'm down.”

You sneak a scared glance at the customers. They haven’t heard what Taehyung said, still busy looking at the newest model of truck they plan on buying. 

“Tae goddamn, you're making my knees weak”, you whisper, knees truly wobbling. 

He lets out a teasing chuckle, keeping his voice extra low for it. 

“I can't wait, babe. I'm gon' ride your face like a pony.”

You snort, rolling your eyes despite your stomach doing a little excited flip. He may be silly, but he is still terribly hot whilst being so. 

He steps back afterwards, pecking your heated cheek. 

“I'll see you later, love. Can't wait”, he says, having the audacity to turn and leave you in your boiling soup of horniness. 

You won’t be able to properly concentrate for the rest of the day, mind solely focused on what Taehyung told you. 

So he is actually going to ride your face.

You live in the village above a ramen place. The owners are an elderly couple, who were nice enough to give you their spare rooms upstairs. You wanted to pay rent, but they refuse to accept your money whenever you offer, saying that family doesn’t need to pay. They lived next doors in a little two story house with a small, walled garden. Sometimes Misses Kang brings over leftover ramen. Mister Kang regularly brings over persimmons from their persimmon tree. Maybe regularly was too weak of a description. You basically are able to eat fresh persimmons daily during their season as each morning, you open your door to Mister Kang grinning at you with his two front teeth missing and a melodic “got more persimmons, granddaughter” on his lips.

You weren’t their granddaughter, but you think that they see you as such. Misses Kang once told you that they had a granddaughter, born the same year as you, but that she died in an accident in the mill she worked at. You sometimes catch her calling you by their granddaughter’s name before she catches herself and then laughs about it with embarrassed melancholy in her dark brown eyes. You never correct her, you simply give her a smile and then hold her hands to laugh right with her.

You think that you might love them. You never really knew your grandparents as they both died when you were around five, but if they were still alive, they would be around the age of the Kangs. So as much as they see you as their granddaughter, you see them as your grandparents and that was a very lovely thing to do.

Your place was very homely. It stretched over the entire space of the downstairs restaurant with windows on each side of the building so you always had something pretty to look out at. From the east windows you could watch the sun rise behind the high mountains in the distance. From the west windows you could watch it set behind the forest covered hills. From the south windows you had view of the village and from the north windows you could spot the mountain village in the far, far distance. Taehyung always says that he plans on taking you there one day because of its amazing teashop, but he didn’t get to do that yet.

A set of dark wooden stairs leads up to a balcony and your front door. You keep your herbs and tomato plants on the balcony as it was south facing and therefore perfect for growing your food. You plan on trying out bell peppers next season. Taehyung promised to give you some of their seeds for it and also to help you with any horticultural struggle you face.

Speaking of Taehyung. You have just managed to finish lighting all your candles in your living room when you can hear his distinct knock on your front door. He always knocks in a rhythm. It changes between two patterns, depending on what he feels like that day. He used the second pattern tonight. Two slow knocks followed by two fast ones.

You check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the creases in your dress and the mess in your hair, before hurrying to open the door. You are so excited.

Taehyung, like most of the time, is leaning against the railing of the balcony, posing all nonchalantly. He is wearing his favourite blue jeans tonight with a matching shirt and his fanciest cowboy hat. He tips it as a greeting, giving you a playful, lopsided smirk.

“Good evenin’ me lady”, he greets you.

“Good evening, handsome cowboy”, you greet him, stepping out of the doorframe, “come in. Did you get here on Bruno?" 

“Yup, he's parked outside”, Taehyung says and greets you with a kiss.

“That's nice. Did you have a good ride?”

“Yup. But not as good as I'm gon' have one later, am I right?” he flirts as takes off his boots, placing them on the bamboo shoe rack you built yourself.

He makes you laugh, “hopefully, yeah.”

“I picked this for you”, he says, presenting you a bouquet of meadow flowers. He hid it behind his back pocket before.

“They are so pretty, thank you so much”, you accept it with a fluttering heart, “I gotta put them in water before they weld. Get comfy in the meantime.”

You store your vases in a cabinet in the living room. Your parents gave it to you, told you that it was already two hundred years old and that you will take great care of it. You love it a lot. It really compliments the rest of your wooden furniture.

“I’m thinking that we could eat kimchi stew for dinner. I still gotta use up all my old one, it’s really sour already”, you tell Taehyung as you make your way to your kitchen.

It was separated from your living room by a half wall. The hanging cabinets formed the other part of the wall, leaving you with a big enough window so that you could comfortably look at Taehyung as you work to fill the vase with water. Worktops were on one side of the half wall while a spacious breakfast bar was on the other side. You never use it, because you consume most of your meals in front of the TV on your comfortable couch.

“Sounds good, I didn’t eat yet”, Taehyung answers you, standing by the window like he always does when he comes over. With his hands on his hips and his tummy just slightly sticking out as he arches his back.

“You don’t mind that I didn’t cook it yet, do you? I just didn’t know how soon you wanna fuck, so I waited with the food.”

Taehyung keeps on staring outside.

“Tae?” you try.

“Mhm?” Taehyung looks over his shoulder.

“I just said that I hope you don’t mind I didn’t cook yet ‘cause I didn’t know if you wanted to fuck already.”

“Oh”, he turns to you then struts to the couch to sit down, “no, it’s fine. I ain’t hungry yet. I’m nervous”, he confesses and laughs shyly.

“You are? Because of the rimjob?”

“Yeah”, Taehyung nods his head.

You put the flowers in the vase and place it on the breakfast bar, turning it in a way so that you could see the prettiest part of the bouquet from the sofa. Then you strut to Taehyung, letting yourself plop down on the sofa next to him.

“You know we don’t have to do it, if you changed your mind again”, you tell him, caressing his thigh.

“No, I’m nervous ‘cause I really wanna do it”, he says, taking off his hat to play with his hair nervously, “I feel like an idiot”, he confesses in a breathy laugh.

“Why?”

“Cause I talked all big balls at the garage and now I’m nervous. I’m big mouthed, nothin’ more.”

“It’s fine, I get it. We can chill for a bit if you want”, you suggest.

“Yeah, I like that” he says, letting himself fall down on your sofa. He throws his legs on your lap, relaxing with a loud sigh. He grunts and then hums in content as he rubs his own tummy.

“Pff”, you scoff, “you and your dad noises all the time.”

Taehyung peels his left eye open, “those ain’t dad noises. They’re uncle noises.”

You chuckle, running your hands up and down his shins mindlessly.

“How’s Jihyo doing? Is she still teething?” you ask him.

“Yeah. She’s cryin’ so much”, Taehyung says, opening his right eye too in order to look at you as you talk, “Namjoon hyung’s been tryin’ to calm her down all day but she keeps cryin’. I’m kinda glad to be here now, not only ‘cause I can see you, but to get away from the baby. It’s so noisy at home.”

“That sucks. I get your struggle. I bet it must be so uncomfortable for her though.”

“Yeah probably. Poor girl, must be so confused why teeth keep showin' up in her mouth”, he says and then with the help of his abs sits up. He pecks your cheek, making you turn your head to him. A kiss on your lips follows, the kind which leaves a flutter in your tummy.

“Why did you do that?” you ask in a whisper.

“Cause you’re so pretty”, he whispers, stubbing your cheek with his nose.

“You’re such a flirt.”

Taehyung chuckles softly, eyes flitting to your lips.

“Can we make out?” he asks.

“I really want that, yeah”, you answer him.

“Mhm honey, you’re so hot”, he rasps, hooking his fingers behind your head to pull you into a kiss.

The problem with not sharing a place is just how incredibly needy you get for each other. You rarely go out for dates and if you do, you always have to do it after a quick fuck at one of your places. You joked about it with him already. Your dates always start with sex before anything else can happen. You blame it on all the shameless flirting the two of you do and all the days spend separated. You can’t help it. Taehyung is the hottest man alive and his body is so fucking addicting. When you know that you can spend the rest of the day with him, you get so horny and needy for him that you want him first and only then crave other date activities.

And Taehyung feels the same. He is certain that if you and him didn’t start off your dates by fucking, he would actually die of blue balls during the date.

Taehyung falls back on the sofa, pulling you with him. You fall atop his chest, elbows caging in his head and lips dancing with his’. He sighs because of it and you answer him with a soft moan.

You were actually his first. He never put great importance in the whole concept of virginity like all those big town people do. He is convinced that virginity is nothing but a city trend, because he never thought it to be important. He knew that he wanted to be intimate with the right woman, no matter when she came around, and he saw no shame in waiting for her. He found her in you by the young age of thirty one and now he can’t stop wanting you over and over and over again. Sex is so fucking amazing when it’s with the right person. Taehyung is convinced of it.

“How come you’re already kinda hard?” you break the kiss to ask him in a chuckle.

“Cause I’ve been horny for you all day”, he says and pouts, “stop teasin’, I can’t help it.”

You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say, pecking his lips until he stops pouting and kisses you back properly.

He wraps his legs around your hips, closing his arms around you in a way so that his chest is snug against yours. Like this you can grind against him, humping him with needy rolls of your hips. 

Taehyung breaks the kiss in a breathy chuckle. 

“You gon' make me cum if you do that”, he says, having to moan softly as his hips chase the friction. 

“Yeah? Wanna go to the bedroom?”

“Yeah, want that.”

“Let’s go.”

No time is wasted between you and him. You are needy for each other and that means you have to act quick. You make out on your way to the bedroom. Lips dance with each other desperately while your hands fumble with the other’s clothes. His shirt leaves his torso in the hallway. Your dress follows seconds later. 

Taehyung cradles your tits instantly, massaging them through the fabric of your bra. He makes you moan because of it and for your hands to work even quicker. You tug his white tanktop out of his jeans, pulling it up his torso. 

The kiss breaks so you could slip it over his head. Taehyung even lifts his arms for you, chuckling shyly when you rough up his hair. 

“You good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, I'm good”, he says, falling back into the kiss as your fingers begin running through his hair. He touches your lower back, but soon feels up your ass. He is too obsessed with it not to steal a touch. You don’t mind. On the contrary, you like it. Taehyung’s fingers have been on every single inch of your body and you goddamn love how they feel. He is so unapologetic in his touches, so confident and with the right amount of cockiness to really get you going. Obviously he never does new stuff without asking first, but he also knows when it is safe to do stuff without asking as he is incredible good at listening to your cues. 

Just like right now, when you press him against your dresser, placing your knee on the surface to cage him in. Your ass sticks out that way, allowing Taehyung to pull your panties to the side and run his fingers along your middle. Your pussy and rim. He knows just where to touch to make you sigh. 

“You're wet", he mumbles into the kiss.

“Mhm, wet for you”, you tell him, kissing him with tongue. 

Taehyung moans, parting his lips to allow you access. You are so good at tongue kisses. Taehyung thought the concept was weird at first. Until you kissed him with tongue for the first time. That’s when he finally understood and, quite frankly, became obsessed. He tugs you closer, trying his hardest to tilt your hips in a way that would allow him better access to your clit. 

You stumble because of it, crashing into the dresser with him and knocking over your candle. It was turned off. Thankfully. 

“Careful there, cowboy”, you laugh, slamming your foot down to find support again.

“Sorry, my bad”, Taehyung chuckles, giving you a sheepish look, “you okay?”

“Mhm, I am”, you say, rubbing your hand up and down his chest, “my candle not that much.”

Taehyung fixes it with a blush, swaying his shoulders from side to side. He glances at you.

“Sorry?” he mumbles shyly, widening his eyes cutely.

“Com'ere, you sweetheart”, you say, dragging him to your bed by his belt. 

Taehyung follows with wobbly knees, feeling then wobble even more when you drag him atop your lap. You slam your hands onto his round buttocks, forcing him to yelp it surprise.

“Babe”, he gasps, widening his eyes, “whatcha doin'?”

You snicker, wiggling your brows. 

“You like it?” you coo, kneading his plump flesh.

“I can't say I hate it”, he says, laughing breathily. He shakes his head, “you been doin' things to me, babe”, he murmurs. 

“Yeah?” you smirk, looking at his lips, “come and kiss me.”

Taehyung claims your lips instantly, arms closing around you and naked chest melting with yours. He moans, squirming on your lap.

He hasn't sat in your lap very often before. Maybe once or twice while you were in the heat of the moment, but never actively. You? You are sitting on his lap all the time, everywhere and anywhere. Taehyung not so much. He thinks it’s weird. Not because he actually thinks that it is, but because he is always scared to be called mean names. You always tell him that the people who call him names aren’t worthy of his attention either way, but you won’t pressure him. 

It makes it feel all the more special tonight. He is comfortably heavy on your lap and to your surprise, he is better at grinding against you as you thought he would be. Also, his butt feels extra plump and big in that position. You can’t stop feeling it up. 

Taehyung has the sexiest ass in the universe. It was actually one of the first features you noticed about him. Next to his smile and pretty eyes. His butt always looks so good in jeans and all those tight riding pants he wears. You like holding it whenever he gives it to you missionary and whenever he takes a shower at your place, you can’t help but jump right in there with him just so you can feel up his ass. 

Truly, with your obsession for his behind, it was only a matter of time that you'd suggest butt stuff. You know that you won’t get Taehyung to agree to anything going up his butt for a long time, but you don’t mind. You are already content with the aspect of getting to eat him out. 

You break the kiss, panting heavily.

“I fucking want you”, you rasp, trying and failing to slip your hands into his jeans. They’re just way too tight.

“You do?”

“Yeah, want you riding my face like you’re riding my thighs.”

Taehyung flusters, lowering his eyes.

“Unless, you changed your mind?” you make sure. 

“No uhm, no”, he shakes his head, “man, I’m nervous. Phew”, he confesses and laughs breathily, “I think my heart's gon' give up.”

“That's alright. If you still need time, I can give it to you.”

“No, I just. I want", he glances at you shyly, gnawing on his lower lip.

“Go ahead”, you encourage him.

“Can I use yo' shower? I wanna be smellin' good down there.”

 “Of course, go ahead. You know where everything is?”

“Yeah, been takin' too many showers here”, he jokes, getting up from your lap to hurry to your bathroom, “I'll be back soon.”

“Take your time, babe.”

You decide to add a little bit of romance to the bedroom in the time he freshens up. You light the candles, careful not to knock them over again, and fluff up your sheets so they look inviting. Then you turn on Taehyung’s favourite artist and get onto bed, resting in a sexy pose for when he comes back. 

Taehyung does so after fifteen minutes and with a towel wrapped around his hips and his skin smelling like your rose shower gel. 

He stops, looking at you with widened eyes. 

“Hello there sexy, you’re back", you greet him, wiggling your brows.

“The room's lookin' so romantic”, he gasps, “babe, you look so hot”, he exclaims, climbing onto bed, “babe, you been doin’ so much”, he giggles.

“I thought I’d set the mood”, you explain, rolling onto your back as Taehyung climbs on top of you. He plops down on your crotch, hands resting on each side of your head. 

“You're spoilin' me, I’m so lucky”, he says with the biggest heart eyes.

“No, I'm lucky. You’re so sexy with your towel”, you say, tugging on it playfully. 

Taehyung draws closer, “wanna kiss you.”

“Do it.”

You fall back into the needy tongue kiss, continuing where you left off, except that Taehyung wears significantly less clothing and his fingers are kneading your tits. Your own are groping his thighs and butt, forcing the towel to unravel more and more. Taehyung doesn’t mind, moaning and mewling into your mouth as his body falls back into the pleasure. 

The shower made his cock go down again. Quite frankly, the act of cleaning out his butt and making sure he was squeaky clean back there felt too embarrassing to him to stay hard. He didn’t mind doing all this stuff, because you always do it for him when you’re doing butt stuff, but it was still foreign to him and therefore a little scary. Taehyung thought that it wasn’t that bad in the end and that he could imagine doing it again if he ends up liking the rimjob. 

He likes that you turn him on again. All it takes are your touches and kisses to get his cock hard again. 

He breaks the kiss, moaning your name and dragging his parted lips down your neck. Like this, his back arches naturally, finally giving you the opportunity to rip off his towel. It falls onto the floor and becomes forgotten. 

Taehyung moans, wiggling his hips. He sucks on your skin, eliciting sighs of his name. Your fingers grasp his buttocks, kneading and massaging them so eagerly that Taehyung feels the sensation on his rim. It is so peculiar to him, because you've groped him like this a hundred times before and yet this is the first time where he actively takes in on how this makes his ass feel. And it feels really good. Electric and just gentle enough that Taehyung craves more.

“I'm horny”, he confesses, chasing your touch. 

“You are?”

“Yeah”, he whispers. 

“Horny enough to hop on there?”

“Maybe? Don’t laugh if I move weird.”

“I would never”, you promise him.

“Yeah then, uhm”, Taehyung lifts his head, “wanna, uh, try?” 

“That sounds like a plan to me. Hop on there, cowboy”, you say, spanking his butt gently. 

Taehyung scrambles to his knees and begins to climbs on top of you, mumbling every step under his breath and laughing nervously throughout the whole process. He chooses the position you always choose when you ride his face. With his butt facing you and his head facing your toes. He places his hands on your thighs and looks over his shoulder.

“Don’t look there”, he whines when he realises that you are gazing at his ass.

Your eyes flit up, “why not?” you laugh fondly, “you’ve got a nice ass.”

“Yeah but”, he can’t find an excuse, “sorry, I’m weird ‘bout it.”

“It’s alright”, you give him a reassuring smile, “wanna scoot up a little and make it easier for me?”

“Uh yeah”, Taehyung follows hesitantly, widening his eyes nervously.

“There we go, so sexy”, you murmur under your breath, grabbing his buttocks to spread them.

“Shit, I can’t look”, he gets out, turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s going to happen soon. Taehyung holds his breath in preparation. He can’t pull back now. It’s going to happen one way or the other. Fuck, his heart’s going to give up on him.

“So sexy, babe. You’re so sexy”, you rasp and stick your tongue out, dragging it over his rim.

“Woah”, he gasps, flinching away. Despite his attempts of not looking, he still ends up glancing over his shoulders, lips parted in shock and brows lifted.

That felt so warm and wet. Taehyung stills feels the effects it had on him.

Your eyes meet.

“How’s that? Was that really that bad?” you tease him a little, caressing his tense buttocks.

He shakes his head.

“Yeah? Wanna give me more?”

Taehyung shimmies back up and sticks his ass out, eyes glued to your face. Your eyes flutter closed and a second later Taehyung feels wet warmth drag itself over his rim. He widens his eyes, mouth falling open in shock. Another time. You use the flat of your tongue for it, grinding it against his hole.

“You gotta be shittin’ me”, he gets out and laughs shakily.

Your eyes open, pinning him down with just a look. He gulps, feeling the next lick so intensely that he has to moan. He moans again when you purr against him and flick your tongue over his rim. You lift him off of you and to Taehyung’s surprise, he is really sad that you did. It felt so good. Taehyung wants more of it. 

“Like it?” you ask him.

“Yeah”, he rasps, “can you do it again?” he asks shyly, moving his butt closer to you.

“Mhm babe”, you purr, pushing him back down onto your face.

Now encouraged by his words, you truly show him what you can do. There is no reason for you to hold back anymore. Taehyung’s into it and that means you want to show him what he missed. You keep his hips pinned down, using your entire head to grind your tongue against his hole and kneading his buttocks with hungry fingers.

“Fuck”, Taehyung presses out, rolling his head to the front and dropping it. He squeezes your thighs, arching his back instinctively. He moans, closing his eyes as his body falls into the pleasure. He has to give it to you. You once again, did it. Taehyung was so sceptical of the entire situation. How could a guy enjoy getting his hole licked? It sounded impossible to him. He is happy that he was wrong, because what you are doing feels really good. Your tongue is so warm and wet and soft, showing him just how sensitive his backside actually was. Oh, he is so happy that he was wrong.

“Don’t wanna stop”, he sighs, wiggling his hips which results in his hole grinding over your tongue even better. So he does it again, moaning your name as warm pleasure soaks his senses. He feels especially warm between his legs and his inner thighs. He can’t explain it. It starts on his hole and spreads down his thighs, threatening to go further and further. Taehyung wants it to happen, scrunching up his nose in bliss. “Don't wanna stop”, he confesses in a barely there whisper, “don’t stop….”

You slip off of him for some air, eyes running over his hole. It’s all wet from your spit, looking so pretty up close. All soft and relaxed. You have to squeeze your thighs together at the view. It’s a true shame that it took you so long to see it. You missed out on the sexiest view ever. 

“How’s it looking?” you check up on him, aching for another taste. You crave him with every fiber of your body.

“Want it again”, Taehyung sounds out of breath and needy, wiggling his hips in a silent plea for more.

“You’re so hot, Tae”, you rasp, pulling him back. You moan into him, licking and sucking his hole hungrily. He tastes so good. You seriously can’t get enough of him. You dreamt of this moment for so long. You always knew that Taehyung would be a natural at riding your face. After all, this man rides horses like no other. It would have been surprising if he wasn’t good at taking a little ride on your face. And he is. Oh he is. 

You moan happily, wrapping your arms around his waist. You need to be suffocated by him. He smells so good, tastes so goddamn heavenly.

“You’re crazy, fuck”, Taehyung groans, squeezing his thighs together as best as possible. He doesn’t want to suffocate you, scared that he is way too heavy, but you give him no other choice. You have him hostage and all he is supposed to do is take the pleasure you give him. Taehyung must admit, it was a pretty easy task to do.

You hum in agreement, wiggling your tongue into his hole. Just a little, but Taehyung still shudders in reaction, voice pitching in pleasure. Fuck, he sounds so sexy. You want him crumbling on your face. It’s all you need.

You slip your hand to his cock, wrapping your fingers around him to jerk it off quickly.

“Ah! ___!” Taehyung moans loudly, throwing his head back, thighs trembling like crazy and cock throbbing in your hand. He was so concentrated on how your tongue makes him feel that he completely forgot about his cock and now that you are tugging on it vigorously, he swears that he will actually pass out.

He scratches up your thighs, grabbing your hips instead. He can barely find any strength in his fingers, shaking as he tries to squeeze you.

“Ah! Ah god! Ah!” his voice is loud, leaving him instinctively. You’ve reduced his instincts down to shaking and moaning for you. There is nothing else his body could do right now. It feels so goddamn good to him.

Your grip around his cock tightens each time you reach his tip, sending jolts of pleasure through his veins each time that happens. And whenever you do, your tongue on his hole feels even more unbearable. You aren’t going deep, just a little past the tip, but that’s enough already for Taehyung to feel completely and utterly fucked. 

Fucked.

Taehyung gasps for air.

Fucked by tongue. 

Taehyung moans, clenching around you. 

“What are you doin' to me?” he somehow manages to produce, “oh god, what…you…doin' to me?”

You growl, spilling tears. He is so into this. You can’t believe your luck. This is the best day of your life. You want to treat him so fucking right.

You try to wiggle your tongue deeper, fucking it in and out of him with nods of your head. Your fingers glide over his cock quickly, spoiling him to the best pleasure in existence.

Taehyung is burning up, chasing the sensations with needy movements of his hips. You moan deliciously because of it, presenting your tongue to him so he could fuck himself on it. And he takes it gladly, riding your face as if he was made to do so all while his cock spills his desperation all over your fingers.

This is seriously the best day of your life. You spill more tears, moaning happily. This is the best day ever. The fucking best.

“I’m close”, he confesses, resorting to moaning loudly afterwards. He arches his back, slipping his hands up to your waist to squeeze you as best as his weak limbs allow him to. “Really…close…”

“Mhm Tae”, you growl, tightening your arm around his waist to push him down on you. It squishes your nose a little, but you don’t mind. He is burning up on your tongue, twitching and clenching all desperately and driving you insane in the process. You concentrate your touches on his tip, jerking it off with the fastest movements even if that means Taehyung has to writhe and whimper your name. 

Maybe you wanted this to happen. He is so sexy when he is writhing for you. All needy and desperate and running on nothing than the desperate desire to orgasm. He looks sexiest like this. With his skin all glowing in pleasure and the chains around his neck jingling each time he writhes. 

Taehyung tenses every muscle in his body, curling his toes. He hasn't felt so much heat between his legs before. He doesn’t know how to handle it. He has to let go. He  can’t take much more.

“I have to cum”, he croaks, “babe, I-I have to- ah, cum”, he breathes, dropping his head and tensing his stomach, “please. Please. Baby, please.”

You moan into him, twisting your hand in sync with your tongue wiggling into his hole again. Deep and quick. You want him completely ruined. 

“Oh god”, he gasps, “oh god, oh god, n-now ba-”, he can’t finish his sentence as his high knocks him out completely. He screams your name, throwing his head back as he gets swallowed by the flames. He covers your tummy and thighs in his cum, trying his hardest not to drop onto your face, but failing once it feels way too good to him.

“Sorry, oh sorry”, he gasps, shaking atop of you. “I, I can’t control..it! Ah!”

You growl into him, telling him that you don’t mind by pressing him even closer. You want him to give you everything. Every shake, tremble and twitch until he physically can’t give you more.

Six more strokes and then Taehyung gasps in overstimulation, dropping to his elbows involuntarily and slipping off your face that way.

“Oh god”, he chokes out, plopping down on you with his entire weight.

You pant for air, licking your lips to get all of his taste. So fucking tasty. Your hand slips from his cock, caressing his waist instead. He is shivering like crazy.

“Fuck Tae”, you croak, gulping heavily, “that was intense.”

“Mhgmh”, he lets out, hiding his face away in your thigh. He nuzzles you, whining loudly. You lift your head, glancing down at him.

“Are you okay?”

“No?” he turns his head, squishing his cheek against your thigh, “why'd you have to do that?” he whines with a pout.

“Do what?” you ask in a chuckle.

Taehyung rolls off you, dropping onto his back. He rubs his hands over his face, exhaling loudly.

“Make me cum so hard.”

You snicker, sitting up and climbing on top of his lap. You drag his hands away from his face, intertwining your fingers with him and pinning them next to his head.

“I told you that you’ll like it, didn’t I?”

“Yeah? But what the hell?”

You chuckle, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose.

“So? What’s the bottom line here?”

“That I’m scared of what ya’ doin’ to me”, he murmurs, cracking you up. He laughs with you, wrapping his arms around you to hug you against his chest, “you were right. I loved it”, he says, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face, “never cum that hard before.”

“Yeah? I loved it too. You were so hot”, you tell him, enjoying his hug with a fluttering heart.

He purrs happily, snuggling into you.

“Did you cum too?” he asks, tracing your spine slowly.

“This was about you, it’s fine”, you dismiss him, but Taehyung shakes his head vigorously.

“I can’t accept that. My lady needs to cum too”, he says, sitting up even if it is hard. He picks you up for a second to throw you into the pillows.

“Not so fast”, you laugh, accepting your fate of getting your panties pulled down by him with the biggest heart eyes.

“Relax, babe. I'm gon' take care of you”, Taehyung says and parts your legs. Seconds later has disappeared between them, not to be seen again until you are five orgasms in and you have to tug him away from you by his hair.

[triforce-of-mischief]

legend is a peacekeeper, not a bully. in this essay i will-

heck yeah i'm doing this for real, let's go.

x

let's take a closer look at his initial list of traits:

"chooses not to be a leader type." so, this is a guy who has the experience and maturity that he could take charge, but has consciously decided to leave it to the elder links. taking responsibility for eight men and boys is a lot, and legend simply doesn't have the energy and/or personality to keep it up at all times.

"the most reliable, you want him on your team." legend is a good person to be around! the others genuinely appreciate his company! i love how this is worded; out of a lineup, legend would be chosen.

x

instead of calling out to wild or trying to physically stop him (both pretty dangerous moves around somebody with a nocked bow and arrow), legend simply shoots wild's arrow out of the sky with his own. which is a pretty sick move itself. sure, now wild will have to replace that arrow, but it's hyrule. you can't go two feet without finding a vendor. anyway, we don't get to see wild's reaction but it must not have been extreme because legend is calm around wind moments later. even when they're still getting to know each other, legend makes the right move.

x

legend just gives away an entire freaking fire rod. that's pretty significant if you ask me. he doesn't trust the others with his secrets, but he's willing to provide tools for the job.

x

this is a playful quip during a lighthearted moment. wild probably knows about the impression that he gives off, and he doesn't seem upset about legend pointing it out.

x

then, legend's mood immediately shifts to serious as wild reveals the full extent of his scarring. he settles into a mediator role between wild's casualness and time's concern.

x

as stated before, legend is worried about people breaking his stuff. wild isn't bothered by the veteran's attitude, as he clearly just wants to get in, grab his stuff, and get out.

twilight: "i don't know what his problem is, but you shouldn't let him push you around like that." sky: "oh it's fine. it's harmless. he just doesn't give a second thought about his attitude is all. trust me, people like him aren't bullies." twilight: "hmm. that's very true."

x

THIS. COMIC. any time legend is stereotyped as a bully, i just point to this comic. sky says it himself: people like him aren't bullies. i could stop there, but why would i? sky mentions legend's attitude; i think that legend genuinely isn't always aware of the tone of his words. he says what he wants to say, and it can sound blunt but he never means harm by it. also, note legend's body language in the panel i chose. his hand is behind his head, likely touching his neck. that's a self-soothing gesture and a telltale sign of nervousness. whatever legend's saying, he's not as confident as twilight thinks he is. sky sees legend as he truly is, and that's what's important.

x

the prior subject being everybody else fruitlessly guessing at the monsters' motives. it's late at night, the heroes are probably tired, and the conversation is clearly going nowhere. therefore, legend takes it upon himself to lighten the mood. heavy topics can wait for tomorrow; now, the mystery of wild's arrows will make for a sufficient distraction.

x

legend may be used to being a loner, but he pays just as much attention to the others. he frequently joins small conversations and, at the very least, will observe from close by.

x

this is arguably the only time that legend's teasing continues at the expense of somebody else. it's not an isolated attack, though. all of the eldest heroes are in on the bit, except for time who lets it happen with a resigned look on his face.

x

apologies for the lack of legible conversation, but i really wanted to demonstrate the range of emotions that these two go through. legend and warriors bicker like true brothers; tempers flare for a split second before legend realizes that warriors is purposefully making a mountain out of a molehill. they take turns balancing snark and sincerity, and no harm is done from their initial disagreement.

x

once again: THIS. COMIC. legend is a bit disappointed by the thwarted attempt to tease, but wild makes it obvious that this is not the right time or place so legend acts accordingly. legend tries to make amends by asking a question as he returns the diary, and all hints of prior teasing are gone when he offers not one, but two apologies. legend and wild might be different in many ways, but legend knows all too well how it feels to lose a loved one.

x

legend is aware that he's not the best with words. this is both a subtle jab at himself, and at time- since the elder has taken the leader role, he needs to act like it. legend is reminding time that he needs to be better about praising his group after a hard-won battle.

x

by bringing up the topic of magic swords, legend is the one who caused a moment of tension in the first place. when four quickly tries to ease the mood, legend easily agrees.

x

legend loses another few points here: he's too fast to assume the worst, then snaps at wind as tempers run high after a rough battle. thankfully, things seem to be fine again by the time they make camp.

x

all right, old man, angst time is over. legend isn't thrilled to have to be the one to speak up, but at least time is done being cryptic and creepy.

x

it's not the most ideal subject change, but thinking about ganon is certainly easier than being helpless to wild's plight.

x

can we just... appreciate how legend didn't hesitate before stepping through the portal first, alone? if that's not selfless, i don't know what is.

x

once again, it's time who doesn't realize that his words are hurtful. legend diffuses the situation, leaving twilight to console sky about the master sword.

x

this argument has clearly been repeated for however long legend and wild have been traveling together. even though legend is likely older than wild, he doesn't attempt to force the champion to go with his plan. even one on one, legend chooses not to take the leader role, simply trying to get wild to listen to reason. when four shows up, wild reignites the bickering before legend sighs and admits defeat. as long as they're actually going somewhere, legend knows that there's no point in arguing anymore.

x

legend is pretty set on making twilight admit that he's the wolf- until they're attacked, and legend's thoughts go right back to the group. he then touches the crystal which causes another distraction, but it's important to note that, yet again, legend quits teasing when there's something more important to focus on.

x

twilight points out that legend's teasing isn't supposed to be hurtful. self-defensive, yes, but legend chooses to be this way- even if it's not ideal, he thinks it'll stop him from getting hurt again. so why would he use his quips to bully the others, if that's exactly what he's avoiding himself?

x

legend isn't used to asking for help, but what's the first thing he does? he says thank you! then sky picks up on his awkwardness and it's the skyloftian's turn to introduce a distraction.

x

while the others heroes look nervous or just solemn, legend is embarrassed. twilight and sky were egging four on just as much, but legend still sees it as a personal failing that he didn't act more maturely.

x

legend coming in clutch with another small quip that he hopes will cut the tension. time's interrogating the kid, who clearly doesn't want to give away the elder's story. legend lets them carry on with their important conversation, but kudos to him for trying to lighten the mood prematurely.

x

twilight is out for the count with time, sky, and warriors going to help. so, legend acts as the temporary leader even though he's not accustomed to it. nobody listens to him unless he physically drags them away from a fight, but he still tries to keep the team safe.

x

legend so badly wants to check on twilight, but he knows that four is right. his restless energy then returns and he wastes a few minutes arguing with the smaller heroes before storming out of the inn to look for help.

x

and finally, we have the rare instance of legend wanting to be the peacekeeper, but not knowing what to say. he hasn't left twilight's side since he recovered, but that doesn't mean that he knows how to react to wild's poking at midna. thankfully, wild backs off and legend is able to remind twilight to save his worries until he has his full strength back.

x

so, there you have it! hopefully that was more than enough proof to convince you that legend is a pretty great guy, not the bully that people are so set on making him out to be.