#anyway shoutout to my friends who i told ' i need to make this man look ill ' & they responded with ' you are so obviously into him '

[vellichorom]

you’re here because you deserve to be here. it is a hospital.  and you are a very sick individual.

BONUS:

[nylwnder]

lake house

a/n: HELLO SWEETIES!!!!! welcome to my first 2024 fic n series! i started it off with ryan cause if you know me, you know he was everything to me for the 4 months we had him. also, HUGE SHOUTOUT to @shoot-the-puck for in a way co-writing this and the others with me i love you so much scoob thank you for being my asylum roomie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyways, enjoy and dont forget to tune in to the other drops <3 mwah!

pairing: ryan o’reilly x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT, its giving soft sex (unprotected), lowkey body worship, lowkey exhibitionism, childhood friends to lovers, use of “snook” and ryan being such husband material. gawdamn.

word count: 1.9k

taglist: @11livpangburn , @domi-max , @boqvistsbabe , @sweetiet , @p1tstop , @occasionallyaurora , @laurenairay, @fallinallincurls

series masterpost

the drive to the lake house was as calming as ever. although it was a couple hours, it was a trip you knew all too well. one you were dying to take every june the minute the last bell rang for summer break.

sometimes it was just you, your parents and your brother. most times, it was you and the o’reilly family. a lot of kids shared between two vans, snacking on chips and freezies from the coolers at the back of the cars.

the tradition never stopped when the lot grew older. you escaped to the house every time your winter term ended, then after your internship finished, and then when you could use up all your saved vacation time from your new job. ryan always followed when his nhl duties came to an end. both respective families coming in to stay in between.

that being said, this was the first time you drove to the lake house with ryan in the driver's seat and with you in the passenger's seat. it was the first summer since he came back home to toronto. but more so, to you. officially.

he was sick of waiting until your usual shared break, and you were very much sick of coming home to a cold bed.

before any headline could find you, ryan called you that night. and it was as if the 100 ton weight was being lifted off of your desperate shoulders. because it was. after ten years of long and needy facetimes, one-night lustful visits, and the best stanley cup celebration you two could possibly have imagined, you were going to have him, at your full disposal, “whenever you fucking want” as ryan had told you.

ryan put the car in park and you couldn’t help but smile about the fact that this would be the first time you’d be stepping into that house, as a proud pair. the “finally” ’s already shed by your parents who were following in behind the two of you.

—

the first night was spent with take out, laughs, pjs and movies and it always makes you grateful for growing up with a group with such a tight knit bond. your heart was full when you heard inside jokes from circa. 2006 running through the house — which are still ever so applicable, presently.

the next day, you didn’t wake until you heard the cars drive off in the late afternoon. it had been a while since you had the time to sleep in, so it seemed your body pranced at the chance. after heading to the bathroom, you couldn’t find ryan in the rooms or common areas. he always made sure you get as much sleep as you need, not only because he knows how grumpy you get if you don’t, but also because he always wants the best for you.

as you made your way to the kitchen, you looked out the windows casing the large lake. you saw the large figure of the man sitting at the edge of the dock and didn’t do anything else but make the walk over to him.

you sat beside him as he turned to face you with a toothless smile. you smiled at it, you always told him he looked cute like that, and he started listening to you. “sleep good, sweetheart?” he asks as he looks down to cut the leaf caps off the pack of strawberries between his legs. “wonderful” you emphasised before you reached for the strawberry he handed you. “i’m glad. you deserve it.”

you took a bite out of the soft strawberry, the juices from the flesh spilling into your mouth. you couldn’t help but let out a little innocent moan. the first time you tried these, they were immediately the best strawberries you have ever had in your entire life. and they just so happen to be locally farmed near the lakehouse.

ryan giggled, “had to stop by the market and buy you a few packs during my run. wouldn’t be a lake house summer without these guys right here.”

“this is why i love you. thank you.”

he only responded by handing you the bigger piece between the two in his hand. you put your head on his shoulder as you two looked out in front of you. the sun was bright but not exhausting, as the wind from the water dismissed the heat.

“the folks went to gather some things for this week's meal plan.”

you hummed a response. but it got you thinking. and so you didn't waste time.

you turned yourself around in order to lay your upper body on ryan’s lap. he placed the knife and strawberries safely aside as he smiled. you gave him a small smile before shutting your eyes for a bit.

you reached for ryan’s hands from his sides. you played with his big and thick fingers for a bit, before taking his hand and placing it on top of your shirt. then you moved his hand under the hem. as you began to move it further up, the material of your shirt wrinkled with your movements and began to expose your skin.

ryan kept his hand in your grip and his eyes firm on you. you kept moving it up, reaching the curves of your boobs. “take it off” you mumbled as he obliged. taking off the tshirt and throwing it on top of the other items he had set aside.

you didn't reach for his hands again. he knows what to do. he always knows, ever since your first kiss.

the sun shined on your supple flesh. his calloused hands moved back to your curves. pushing down your pants a tad, in order to squeeze your love handles. later, his fingers lightly trace up the soft line marks found upon your hips, and the ones on the sides of your breasts.

your cheeks begin to mimic the berry blush as you open your eyes to look at ryan. you loved how comfortable you are to be vulnerable around him. you always felt adored, and safe.

he pulled you up swiftly, allowing your legs to straddle him. your arms naturally wrap around his broad shoulders. you look into his gentle eyes, “i love you, snook.” you lean in for a tender kiss but his hands push your body tight into his. “i love you more, sweetness.” his lips finally meet yours and he envelopes you perfectly. “always have. always will.” he whispers.

his lips meet your cheek as he leaves wet kisses on your jaw and neck. you let soft moans escape your parted lips, your body melting into his figure. ryan often joked that his body was made for you specifically, with the way you fit against him so perfectly.

“gorgeous.” he whispers into your ear as his beard scrapes against you. you bite your lip at his words. one he's been telling you since you grew butterflies in your stomach every time you saw him. “want you snook” you plead, your pussy twitching as his hands squeeze your bust. you grind down on him, and he huffs outs. “just had you yesterday morning, honey.”

“dont play with me, ry. you know i always need you.”

he hums in response. “thats true. i can never say no to my girl.”

he lifts you once again, getting to lay you down on the thin throw ryan had brought out with him. your eyes close again as the sun hits your face, but you feel kisses pressed all over your skin. ryan’s lips trace from your lips to your cheeks down along your jaw, and onto your neck once more. he sheds a few soft nips while he makes sure your panties and shorts are discarded.

its not long before he nips on your nipples, noises escaping your exposed body. your fingers pull down his own shorts and you feel his cock against your skin.

two digits slip smoothly into your damp cunt as ryan cups your face. you bite up a cry. but before you know it, he’s lined up at your entrance and you're pleading for him to move.

you let out a lewd moan as he pushes in. ryan followed with a low groan and you clenched around him immediately, “that’s my sweet girl. so divine.” he says as he gives kisses on the edges of your collarbone.

his thrusts are a blend of slow, long and quick, hard movements. his hands held your hips as he didn't let his lips leave your body. his hair tickles your chin as he gives your breasts some love once again. you felt yourself reaching the goal closer and closer. the all too familiar feeling of your wet walls stretching around ryan’s thick length driving him crazy.

your effect on him was always so strong. right from when you both were young. the minute you got hurt, it broke ryan to see you cry. it was his dire mission to help clean you up or provide you with the necessary pick me up. oftentimes that was bringing you your favourite snack or sometimes a kiss on your cheek was all you needed. when you laughed, ryan laughed. and even when it seemed like ryan and your brother were picking on you, he always made sure to give you a hug later on. he would never hurt you. and he'd never let anyone hurt you. that was for sure.

you were pleased that there were laughs, screams and talk from the surrounding residents that can help drown out your shared sounds. at the same time you couldn't possibly care if they heard either. your mind was far too fuzzy.

“make me cum snook. make me cum all over your cock” you were desperate and needy, i think that was already established. ry smiled at your words, pulling your body up into him once again.

your arms were so tight around him, you stuck to his body like gum on a shoe. he pumped into you as you also began riding his length. the way your body swayed with your hips helped bring ryan even closer to his climax.

your head fell back as you felt the wave of pleasure overcome you. ryan continued your movements for you until your whines dyed down. once you both finished you kept yourself on his lap “don't move, ry. still need you there.” you mumbled.

“till they come back?”

“please.”

a smile appeared on both of your faces. droplets of sweat trickled down his chest and you crushed them with your finger as your head laid on his shoulder. his hands rubbed the sides of your body as his face was cuddled on top of your head. his nose tucked into your thick hair. your smell, your weight, your breathing and your warmth calmed him. his mind never wandered off. he was the most present, the most grounded with you, like this.

“why is it that every time we have sex you’re so quiet?” you asked ryan as you looked up at him. it was a thought you had often so you figured you’d ask. “sometimes you used to make me feel as if i did something wrong…” you said with a little titter.

he scoffed, “no honey, you could never.” you smiled. “you just take the breath out of my lungs”

you both start laughing. “you’re a pro hockey player and i’m the one who can kill you? i’ll take it.”

ryan lets out a chuckle again. “all i know is words cannot express how i feel when i’m with you, but i want to experience it till my dying days.”

your heart warmed. you grab his face and eagerly kiss him. “and so you will.”

[ enjoyed reading? join my taglist! : click here <3 ]

[camlannpod]

Yet another re-listen, yet more questions:

1) Did Gwaine have to *walk* back from the Alps?

2) Was Gwen winding a heavy worsted or bulky weight yarn, or is she just really fast at winding? (The last yarn I wound for my own knitting was a fingering weight (also known as sock yarn, if you are unfamiliar), and that took a fair chunk of time)

3) Is that how CB radios work, or is it story logic in play?

4) On the topic of story logic: is food governed by story logic of it's fine unless it needs to not be or is it more that I, being American, have no idea what a supermarket in Wales is likely to have or not have regarding perishables?

5) Did the Cataclysm happen during a specific time of year or just a nebulous nine months before episode one?

5a) How long *were* they in Anwn in episode 7?

Feel free to cherry-pick or ignore as needed, especially if I've accidentally landed on something plot-relevant, I am mostly just full of happy babble.

Thank you!

Hi! Omg!! No it makes me SO happy people are still relistening and caring enough to ask these questions! I know it's quiet on our end right now, but it's always a nerve-wracking kinda period of quiet where you just really hope people still care and are still finding the show.

SO in answer to your questions:

Great question, which raises the other one: did he walk to the Alps? There's a bit where Gwaine says the Green Man led him through a moss-covered old stone arch, and then he was in deep snow and mountains. Gwaine says he thinks he's in the French Alps but he doesn't actually know exactly what happened. Realistically there's no way he could've gotten there through ordinary means - as Gwen alludes to, London is a mess and he'd have had to backtrack past Glastonbury and the knights. The mechanics of this are supposed to be an open question for you, the listener - though I can say the trick to it is something important that will come up in season 2.

Straight up this one is mostly just cinema magic - in that we couldn't spend too long on her doing it but I wanted the intimacy at the start of her telling Morgan what to do. I do think there's an element where it probably is a bulky yarn though! She wants / needs to make four (and after Gwaine arrives, five) jumpers really fast - she's got about 3 months before they're in deep winter. To my, admittedly amateur, knitting knowledge - using a heavier yarn would let you make something much quicker, if of a lower quality, and in this case Gwen wants speed.

It is how CB radios work! I have an older gay friend (who presents the LGBTQ+ non-fiction podcast, ShoutOut Radio, check it out) who told me about how he and other gay people used to use this as a way to find each other in the 70s and 80s. So basically you'd give a location, like a high street, and agree on a frequency, then drive in circles in your car with the radio on trying to find where the signal was stronger until eventually you found who you were looking for. The problem is that, as Morgan says, it only works at like 2-3 miles away at most, so it wouldn't have worked with Gwaine. That was just Dai pulling them to try anyway.

Food is going to become a bigger and bigger plot issue as the story goes on. Right now, the gang are in the first nine months - so the supermarket didn't have any edible fruit or vegetables etc, but did still have canned and some dry goods that were workable. The big things for Camlann are a) the apparently tiny number of survivors, which means most places have been left untouched and not raided by anyone, and b) the cottage itself - which had an unusually high amount of canned and dry goods, which has helped the gang a lot.

Uh, it's kind of nebulous (I want to leave it open for myself for plot reasons) - but I've got a pretty strong idea the series starts in Autumn. If we put the beginning somewhere in September, then we're talking January, maybe December for the Cataclysm.

/ 5a. Similarly left nebulous for plot reasons, but if the series starts in November and we assume the first few episodes take just over a month, then they're there for about 4-8 weeks. The leave in mid-October and come back in late December (skipping Samhain, luckily for them).

Again, sincerely, your happy babble gives me so much joy, thank you so much for caring about the show enough to ask so many questions! <3

[handsinterlaced]

hi this is gonna be my niall experience as I just need to get it out and I’m sure irls are SICK of me talking abt it <3 pls enjoy or ignore up to u

proof being delusional works!

june 27: I fly my ass out to toronto!!! and at this point I’m just giggling w a friend joking around what if I meet Niall

june 28: today is niall’s 1st show in Toronto hehe

I was eating lunch at a random restaurant I stopped by on queen st and I was soooo excited / nervous I couldn’t eat! basically forcing myself to eat so I don’t die at the concert fjdjskks but yeah after like half an hour of picking my food I start to feel unsettled.. and a lil bit uneasy! idk it was suchhhhh a weird feeling but u always gotta listen to ur gut!!

U GOTTA LISTEN TO UR GUT!!

DONT IGNORE IT

it was sooo strange like at that moment I knew I had to leave the restaurant RIGHT NOW and so I did! I was like half an hour walk away from my air bnb so I’m like that’s fine I’ll just walk back & still have plenty of time before the show to get ready and stuff! there were so many different ways to walk back. I could’ve crossed the street earlier or turned the corner sooner but the path I chose led me right to Niall 😭😭 I wasn’t even looking for him!!! but I was waiting for the crosswalk… look up and who do I see? NIALL FUCKING HORAN RIGHT THERE

- ngl tho niall in a cap and sunglasses is such a great disguise FJKSKAKA I would not have recognized him if tour manager wasn’t with him! shoutout to jstir (I met him when I was like 13 when he was working for Cody simpson and taking everyone’s m&g photos fjdjskks that man’s face is engraved in my mind so I was able to recognize him pretty quick!) like who knew my 13 year old phase would come back 10 years later and help me out !!!

anyways so Niall is across the street and I’m just fighting w myself debating if I should go up to him or not 😭😭 the saying never meet ur heroes is kinda true JDKDKAKA it changes u & all the expectations u have! Ultimately I figured that this was my 1 chance to say something so I just went for it. If I didn’t I’d probably regret it for the rest of my life!

I just know my voice was shaky and I was super nervous but niall was so sweet and patient <3 like I felt so bad just going up to him 😭😭 hes just out and about… trying to be incognito & enjoy some free time FJSKKA like I am quite aware but when else could this happen u feel 🥲 anyways here is the convo from what I remember bc I blacked out (as u do when u meet ur fave)

me: hi Niall!! just wanted to say hi and let you know how excited I am to see you perform tonight and tomorrow <3

niall: hi how are you! oh you’re going to both shows? is that right? we’re actually headed to the venue now

me: oh! If that’s the case I don’t wanna keep you guys. Would it be alright if we took a photo?

niall: yes of course!

the photos (cropped myself out bc Toronto humidity is my enemy & I was a sweaty mess from walking back to the air bnb)

and then I just say thank u so much! see u at the show hahaha and SPRINT OFFFFJFKSKAK like I ran so fast bc I needed to get away and scream 😭😭

mind u I be carrying my leftovers the entire time JFKSKAK SO FUNNY

I DIDNT EVEN INTRODUCE MYSELF! WISH I TOLD HIM I FLEW MY ASS OUT! THAT HE NEEDS TO TOUR MORE CITIES IN CANADA! TO PUT NEW ANGEL ON THE SETLIST!! so much I wish I said but again thankful they were on the way to the venue so I was forced to keep it short so I didn’t continue to yap and embarrass myself further. it could’ve been so much worse! just gotta remind myself that.

sat in the air bnb for like 2 hours in silence trying to process what happened fjdjskks would’ve been longer but I had to get to the show! anyways I was like 15 rows back on the floor and had the best time <3

june 29: Toronto night 2!!!

I’m sat 2nd row floor… right next to the barricade and I’m so close I know that niall can see me 😭😭😭 idk if it’s the delusion but I keep making eye contact with niall and he keeps looking at me! probs thinking oh is it that weirdo from the street yesterday 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 LMFAO but U TELL ME!! IS IT DELUSION BC I THINK I GOT PROOF RIGHT HERE

felt too perceived by him tbh JDKKA needed to run and hide! like eye contact was crazy djdjjsjs

OKAY THAT IS ALL FOR NOW I THINK! if u made it this far I am so amazed ty for reading the rambles <3

[robynbaldurlogs]

baldur log day 1 + 2

day 1 i dont have much to show for this day visually bc i wasnt actively documenting... but essentially, i: made my character, went through the beginning tutorials and stuff, took the little brain guy with me, saved shadowheart, and crashed on the beach. then i stopped playing. here is the only image i took before i got off LOL

day 2 ok. so: shadowheart is cool as fuck. i LOVE her already. cannot wait to strengthen the social link with her or whatever the hell you call it. get the friendship numbers up. this fuckass poem had me dead:

shoutout the bitch queen ig whoever you are. keep serving also i love this fucking guy. i can tell hes a conniving fuck but ohhhh hes kinda hot though!

like why is he kinda cunty. but yea anyways he joined my party. also met this guy. gale. he is strangely charming. but he also gives me zephyr breeze vibes (which is bad) and jack sparrow vibes (which is very good). told my friend speves that and that i thought he looked like a smart himbo and she was like "i dont blame you for that read" + "we'll see" which i Dont Know how to take. my judgements were based off the literal first minute of conversation btw

+ really stupid visual glitch i almost didnt notice. theyre fusing

shadowheart talk your shit man.

"just waiting, like a lovesick puppy?" ...... thats a bad thing? whatever you say man. gonna scare shadowheart with commitment. COMMITMENT JUMPSCARE BOO also little parentheses shadowheart is the most fucking dementia raven way ass name and i love it but it was hard to take it seriously for a little bit. warrior cats ass name. also i got crazy fucking lucky with my rolls. dont have many screenshots but i kept getting high numbers it was lucky as shit up until gale talked to me about needing to consume magical items like crack i read his mind with the mindflayer tadpole and found out it was cus he consumed some crazy ass Dark Magic or something, got a critical failure first, then just used some inspiration i had to get it right, and rolled high as shit LMAO

hit the rolls TWICE btw. read his mind once and then went deeper into his mind which had a 15 dc and got that too. hell yeah baby. also afterwards i was totally honest with him about reading his mind and he freaked the fuck out which fair i read your mind. i get it. but still

then i calmed him down by being like "hey man i had to know. youre dangerous" and passed the persuasion check :sunglasses: easiest game of my fucking life oh i talked to shadowheart abt her pains before that which was cool every conversation i have with her makes me like her more.

i met wyll. great guy. i went to camp to long rest and he dropped some INSANE fucking knowledge on me. like. i could live by this

so i switched gale out in my party with him LMAOOOOOOO and had a conversation with astarion about how hed kill me if i started turning. i asked what he would prefer personally and he said decapitation. which was CRAZY. so i was like yeah sure king decapitate me if i turn. do your thing. i trust your judgment

also talked to shadowheart bc i will seize every chance to learn more about her

then i left camp, talked to kagha while looking for a healer, got them to free a tiefling girl through more persuasion rolls (BECAUSE IM GOATED) and talked to the healer nettie who was fixing a Regular Bird

she told me how strange it is that we arent turning, to swear on my life id drink a poison if i saw any symptoms (which i of course agreed to, shadowheart approved and astarion did not) and stopped playing on the way to rescue halsin. fun times!

p.s. days doesnt necessarily mean im playing this daily but rather just what happens when i play per irl day... days just works as a way to categorize tbh

[thatoneandlonelyemo2005]

Alright y'all today me and @cloudtastrophie were talking some Newsies opinions bc I love to pick ones brain. And she likes the Live version whearas I like the '92 version

So just a friendly reminder take these topics lightly

#1 ✨Sprace✨this was kinda similar to how I posted where we get Sprace and Ralbert (who she is more of a fan of BUT WE'RE BOTH DIE HEARTS FOR REDFINCH) but the movie gave us Sprace and the live gave us Ralbert

#2 Do you think Livesies Race is a gambler bc he don't give me the vibes as much as 92sies

Friend: "Livesies Race is more of a gambler to me because he is jittery like a gambler doing his tricks and being scared of getting caught"

Which I don't see that, I see that Race as a twink (I will die on that hill) but I can see where she is coming from although 92sies Race is so cool and collected he would seem more like one and also MAN'S talk about gambling not Livesies who is just like "yeah I gamble" (not really the line but you know what I mean)

#3 The different Santa Fe's

Friend:"I like the live version more because it's more heartbreaking and moves the story and gives character to Jack and how he like betrayed the Newsies"

I can totally see this and it's not bad bUT like fngnfnmrmdn, idk my brain is just so istched with 92sies and Christian rides a goddamn horse oK LIKE SIR- but I feel like I relate to it more for like no reason, I also pointed out the tumblr post (who I think was @i-didnt-do-1t ) about the lyric change and how much that means to the song (also I just really like the sounds)

#4 Outfit differences

This was like nothing, I just, idk wanted to pick her brain but she just said it was another way to identify the people on stage and in a movie you don't need that... Which fair idk, anyways lol

#5 ✨Gay ships✨

As mentioned we love Redfinch, but we also screamed about Ikeshot, Spromeo, Jomike Buttons and Elmer WE SCREAMED SO HARD I JUST CAN'T WITH THEM, there all so cute (also if anyone has one of crystals old art work about Hotshot mistaking Mike for being Ike and telling him something dirty PLZ GIVE)

Also shared how in 92sies some people ship Specs and Dutchy and friend said "fair, could see it" so true

#6 Jack and his bandana (along with David being very gay)

Told her about my bandana post and she found it kinda silly BUT IT'S SO TRUE, also talked how gay David is because look at that man

In the live version he is so gay but in the movie he has to be like worked on (if that makes sense) it just takes him awhile to accept

#7 ✨Grantaire and Enjolras✨

🤭 the gay boys from Les Mis bc we all know there so gay for each other

#8 Jack the artist vs. Jack the cowboy

Friend: "Kinda vibes with it but sees it more as Jack isn't into all that much of art"

I just like the thought of him being a cowboy or just having that, idk I don't mind that he's an artist BUT BRING BACK THE COWBOY

Shoutout to that one tumblr post that head canon Jack getting his cowboy hat stolen by the Delancys

Honorable mentions-

Davids character growth and him being use to the Newsies and getting comfortable with them towards the end of the movie

Jacks cowboy hat that we all miss and the line "go get them cowboy" along with just in general calling him cowboy

Blush and Newsbains were talked about

How much I love Blush

Told her about a Tumblr post saying Finch is a version of Skittery and makes sence

Just in general talked how gay it was BC YOU DON'T SPEND TIME WITH YOUR BESTIE LIKE THAT AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON BLUSH

Talked about how Teddy calls Denton Denty

How queen Medea is

[paintingdragonfeathers]

Whew! Survived Nekocon 2022! But no rest for the wicked—I immediately went home to finish packing things for the movers this weekend. Then I can get back to creating AAAARRRRTT.

Thank you everyone who stopped by the Painting Dragon Feathers booth in the artist alley and either taking home some art or signing up for commissions, and thank you everyone who came to the “Dragons, Cryptids, and Dinos, OH MY!” Panel. While it was only my second time ever vending at Nekocon, and my first ever pro-row booth, it was one of my most successful conventions to date! And thank you cosplayers for showing off your craft!

Special shoutout to my stellar friends and booth beard for all their help manning the booth and keeping us all sane over the weekend.

I also had a chance to meet some new faces and make some new friends. And I had a humbling interaction with a particular congoer—a young man approached my booth and said he came to the con specifically to see ME and my work after seeing it on social media.

This is already heartening as it’s proof my social media posts don’t end up yeeted into the void, lol.

Anyway, this young artist came seeking advice on how to pursue a career in the arts as he heads off to college. Now, I’ve looked out for and helped newbies and first-timers in artist alleys over the years, but this is the first time someone made a pilgrimage to talk to me. I can remember when I was in his shoes, and now with close to a decade of experience between college and cons, I had a split-section realization of “Oh crap…I’m an ADULT ARTIST and can offer this kind of advice.”

So, I didn’t sugar coat it—I was frank that I was very fortunate to have a foundation of supportive friends and family to pursue the arts in school, and as a career I’m at the point where it’s still feast or famine, but I encouraged him that perseverance is key. A lot of times something worth doing is a long gambit and requires patience since stuff rarely happens overnight. A typical rule of thumb I go by is for small businesses of most ilks (including creative work) they tend to either gain traction or “fail” between 4-6 years. Fun fact, until the pandemic hit and set EVERYONE on the planet back, I started gaining traction as a professional artist at years 5-6 of Painting Dragon Feathers. It’s good to be ambitious, and it’s healthy to be pragmatic; I’ve seen so many talented writers and artists flounder because they lack a lick of business sense and don’t know how to apply their skills. And that a lot of skills, whether creative or business-y, can be learned.

I told him that there are so many resources—books, online groups, etc.—that can help him make connections, study artistic principles, and learn the trade to make life as an artist easier. And when he showed me some samples of his art, I could tell based on his expressive line work and composition that he has the creative chops. I recommended him which digital art programs (something he asked about) and tools best emulate traditional media, yet emphasized that it is just a tool, and that you still need to know the principles of art—shading, hue, tone, composition, etc.—whether you’re picking up a paintbrush or a stylus.

All in all, I count myself blessed that I have had excellent guidance and mentors myself over the years from bigger, “adultier” artists, and that if I can hand down some of those sparks and advice to make younger artists coming after me walk a smoother path while I’m still learning and bushwhacking the road for myself, then I’m doing something right at the end of the day. I have no doubt that that young gentleman is gonna go on and create cool stuff.

Go forth and make cool things young artists. The world needs them, and you never know who’s watching your work. And my digital mailbox and art booths are open if you want some wisdom too. ;)

#nekocon #nekocon2022 #nekocon24 #convention #anime #animeconvention #artist #artistalley #cosplay #cosplayparade #costume #fursuit #furry #lifeadvice #paintingdragonfeathers

[complexgods]

Thinking about which Haikyuu characters would hump you in their sleep

Haikyuu characters x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, consensual somnophilia.

Minors stay away and eat your greens so you can grow big and strong. Leave my blog be there is nothing to see here.

A/N: shoutout to my friend Alex who has brainstormed with me over this all evening and endured me during my h-word hours.

Hinata: He has an incredible libido and is always so so needy, just feeling your warm body so close next to his makes him want you even in his sleep, so he subconsciously rubs himself on your thigh, letting out small, happy sighs. He doesn't wake up, but he has definitely cum all over you and/or himself in his sleep quite a few times. He gets embarrassed the next day but tells you that he just can't help it, he wants you so bad all of the time, it's only natural he tries to fuck you even in the depths of his subconscious.

Nishinoya: Just like Hinata, this man can go for rounds and rounds. Even if you literally just had sex before going to sleep, a few hours later, Nishinoya will be hard again and rub against the small of your back and/or your ass because he is just so needy for you. However, he would probably wake up in the middle of his ministrations and very gently nudge you awake, pleading you to just fuck your thighs because he's so close already and it only takes him a few thrusts before he's cumming all over your thighs.

Bokuto: This man is needy needy needy. If he wants you then he wants you now. He would probably also wake up once he gets too horny, realising he's been humping you for what looks like a while, his cock leaking through his shorts. Since you are in a long-term relationship and you have both discussed and consented to situations like these, he decides to give you some attention, gently plucking at your nipples or nibbling at your sensitive spot(s) until your arousal becomes more apparent, that's when he gently puts your legs over his shoulders and starts going down on you, all the while grinding his throbbing cock on the mattress below him. Once you wake up he greets you with a lopsided grin before making you cum from his mouth alone.

Kenma: He does not nearly have as big of a sex drive as the others mentioned above, and he doesn't get horny as often either. However, in the night when he's cuddled close to you, feeling the warmth of your body and inhaling your scent, he can't help but want more, getting hard and grinding his aching cock against your stomach. He doesn't wake up, but lets out tiny whimpers and sighs before he cums in his pants in his sleep.

Daichi: OKAY hear me out. He doesn't do it often. Only when he had some really long shifts at the police station and didn't get to spend time with you for days. He finds you already asleep in your bed when he comes home way after he usually does for the third day in a row, and he just kinda sighs as he gets ready for bed. He's missed you so much during the long work hours and he's sad that he won't be able to spend quality time with you until the weekend. Not to mention that he needs to feel you clenching around his cock, screaming out his name. But alas, there is nothing to do about that now, so he just gets ready for bed. He sleeps soundly as ever, snuggled up against you, his dick hard against your clothed ass. He wakes up to soft whispers and touches, confused.

"You were grinding against my ass" you whisper in amusement once he hums questioningly, still groggy with sleep. He pulls away in embarrassment once he realises what you said, but you keep a steady hand on the arm looped around your waist.

"Hmmm don't stop. I missed you." He grins as he grinds against you with earnest, eliciting a sweet moan from you. He will have to call in sick the following day.

Hanamaki: He is canonically the horniest motherfucker in the entirety of Haikyuu. I know it because he told me. Anyways if you sleep in the same bed as this man you are 99% certain to get humped, and he never ever wakes up either because he sleeps like a rock. He just keeps on grinding into you until he cums, but when you wake up with cum all over you he is so shameless about it. He knows you love each other no matter what even if you have to wash your pyjamas more often than most people. When you do wake up you try to push him off you, but he just holds you closer, grinding down harder so you just accept your fate.

Asahi: He's usually more of a pillow humper when he misses you when you're not around for a few days, but he definitely has done it once or twice before at the very beginning of your relationship, when he was too nervous to initiate anything with you but stayed the night. He apologised profusely when it happened and you both noticed it, but you found it cute and you both were able to laugh it off.

BONUS

Yachi: I don't care I don't care she is needy and horny and sometimes she happens to have a wet dream and rubs herself on your leg and she is vocal even in her dreams and you can't help but wake up from her sounds and you just coo at how pretty she looks, so you decide to give her a helping hand because you discussed situations like these and both agreed somno is on the table for the both of you. She does not wake up even when she clenches around your fingers, coating them with her cum.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ for suggesting the backstory thing! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

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Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer. 

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already. 

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message! 

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you. 

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you. 

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact. 

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo. 

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh. 

“Okay, what now?” 

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge. 

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing. 

It never comes. 

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards. 

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack. 

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. 

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?” 

He stares at you. 

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that. 

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long. 

Fuck, he really had only one option. 

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him. 

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference. 

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath. 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition. 

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation. 

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

 “I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?” 

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated. 

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it. 

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it. 

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.” 

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips. 

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by. 

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?” 

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion. 

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects. 

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.” 

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead. 

Fucking finally. 

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place. 

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight. 

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam. 

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming. 

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him. 

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly. 

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you. 

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious. 

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment. 

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.” 

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying. 

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles. 

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.” 

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles. 

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm. 

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.” 

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified. 

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground. 

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below. 

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes. 

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.” 

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand. 

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally. 

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly. 

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling. 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.” 

“See you there.” Sam nods. 

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure. 

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business. 

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that? 

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all. 

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

 He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry. 

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available. 

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly. 

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?” 

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued. 

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour. 

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.” 

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb. 

Tony has an idea. 

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

[bakugoukatsukiswife]

Girl’s Best Friend

A/N: Y’all I really love @carlychrisfarley​ to write this cause this was something, something indeed. But basically she wanted Bakugou in a scenario where he gets turned into a dog and then when he finally gets turned back, some smutty things happen involving a very well-known sexual position. Who am I to deny her that though? Big shoutout to @lordexplosionsextra​ for making sure this was amazing. 

Warnings: Smut, 18+. 

Words: 1,953

Your boyfriend, Bakugou was a very stubborn man. He didn’t back away from a challenge-no matter what it was. That included diving headfirst into missions even without back-up, he could be reckless and you knew this. Although that still didn’t stop your shock when Kirishima came by your house with a Shiba Inu on his hands-and no Bakugou. 

“Uh.. so not to alarm you, but this is Bakugou.” Kirishima said as he motioned to the blonde dog that seemed to have the same snarl that was always on Bakugou’s face. You blinked a few times to register what he had said before laughing, clearly not falling for the joke that Bakugou and Kirishima were pulling on you. 

“There’s no way you guys are fooling me, I know Katsuki is just hiding somewhere,” you said as you started to come outside, eyes scanning the area for the unruly head of blonde hair you had run your fingers through countless times. When you didn’t see him, you looked back at Kirishima and realized that he was being completely serious. You looked down at the Shiba again and the dog came towards you, his snarl disappearing as he licked at your hand as if to say, “yes, it really is me, dumbass. No prank here,”. 

“What the hell happened?” You asked Kirishima as you let them both inside, plopping down on the couch as Kirishima sat across from you and Katsuki jumped up on the couch, resting himself against you, his head on your lap. 

“Bakugou rushed in-as always,” Kirishima started and Bakugou let out a huff in frustration before Kirishima continued. “Bakugou rushed ahead and the villain used their quirk on him, they can make the person turn into whatever animal they want. It could last a few days, weeks to months.” Kirishima explained and your heart sank at the fact that your boyfriend could be a dog for months on end. Katsuki could sense your mood and let out a low whine, licking at your hand to give you a sense of comfort and a form of apology. Luckily, Kirishima was nice enough to stop and get a few things like a leash, bowls and toys for Bakugou’s state so you could likely process what had happened. 

In your daze, you hadn’t realized that Kirishima had left until Bakugou nudged at your hand with his head and you blinked before looking down at Katsuki, his eyes focused on you. You pet the top of his head, his ears twitching slightly at the new sensation and you smiled when he huffed in approval. 

“Want to watch some TV?” You asked him, giggling when he let out a short bark as if to say yes before you turned on a show that you two had been binging the past few nights. Bakugou curled closer into you, his fur brushing against you. This was going to be interesting. 

A few days had passed and Bakugou was still the cutest Shiba ever-although you really wanted your boyfriend back. Although he was a cute dog, he was stubborn and wouldn’t listen to you at all. Especially when you tried to give him baths after he would go outside and roll around in the dirt. He was still very protective of you so that was pretty cute, sometimes anyway. You had a feeling that you would definitely try to convince Katsuki into getting a dog after this though. You enjoyed having a furry little friend around. 

“Katsuki, are you ready to go on your walk?” You asked from the door, slipping your shoes on and grabbing his leash. You heard a bark and heard the patter of paws before Bakugou appeared in front of you, allowing you to leash him after struggling for a good few minutes. Little shit. You took Bakugou outside, allowing him to lead as he started to sniff at the flowerbeds in the neighborhood. You heard a call of your name and looked up to see Denki and Kirishima headed your way with a wave, to which you returned. Bakugou returned to you, acting as a sort of barrier between you and the boys. 

“Oh man, that quirk still hasn’t worn off?” Kirishima asked you, his red eyes filled with sympathy. 

“Nope, but he at least cuddles me without complaining now.” You joked, causing Bakugou to huff as he showed his annoyance. Kirishima and Denki continued to talk to you, but you could feel Bakugou tugging at the leash to signal that he was ready to head back to the house and you could swear you heard him let out a growl when Kirishima gave your head a pat, the leash being pulled tighter. After finally saying bye to the boys, Bakugou pulled you back to the house and you frowned when you sat down on the couch, expecting Bakugou to jump in your lap but he stalked off to the bedroom. Shrugging, you made your way to the bathroom as you passed a sulking Bakugou on the bed and started to strip, turning on the shower before you heard the patter of paws and Bakugou patiently sitting on the floor. 

“I’m guessing you’re going to stay in here?” You questioned as you threw your shorts aside, watching as Bakugou barked as if saying “duh!”. You smiled before stepping in the shower, turning on the music from your phone from the shower speaker. You hummed to yourself before lathering some of your favorite body wash in your hands, jumping when you heard a familiar voice in your ear. 

“Need some help, princess?” Bakugou questioned, giving you his signature smirk when you turned to face him. You touched his face, pushing at his cheeks slightly to make sure that it was actually Bakugou and not your touch starved imagination playing tricks on you. 

“It’s me, dumbass. The quirk wore off,” Bakugou said, his voice slightly muffled from your hands. As if you didn’t believe him, you trailed your hands down to his perfect figure, fingers trailing over his abs and Bakugou chuckled. “I’m guessing you missed me a lot, huh?” 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, you were cute as a dog. But, I really missed you,” you admitted as Bakugou pulled you close, your confession causing him to smile. 

“I missed you too, especially being able to touch you….” Bakugou said as his knuckles brushed against your cheek, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip as his red eyes seemed to glow with intensity. “So…, can I touch you?” He asks, his voice low as his eyes flicked down your body. As soon as you nodded, Bakugou’s lips were on yours and he had you pressed up against the shower wall. His lips were hot against yours, one of his hands traveling to your hair and you moaned when his fingers tangled in your locks. His tongue met your bottom lip and slowly slid inside your mouth, his other hand going to play with the sensitive bud that had been begging for attention since you heard his voice. 

“K-Katsuki,” you moaned against his lips as his fingers trailed down to your already slick folds to brush against them. 

“Hmm, are you that eager? You’re so cute, wanting me so badly.” He mumbled against your lips as his fingers easily slid into you, a quiet chuckle escaping his mouth at the way you squirmed. His index and pointer finger started to thrust in and out slowly, his face buried in your neck while your hand went to his hair, your skin already on fire. It wasn’t from the shower, but from Katsuki’s hold on you. He was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. 

A moan escaped your mouth when Bakugou curled his fingers, the pads of them hitting that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars in seconds. You could hear his voice in your ear asking if you were about to cum, and when you nodded he abruptly removed his fingers. You met his teasing red eyes as he sucked your juices off his fingers, a gasp escaping your throat as he suddenly picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his lips latched to your neck. 

“Now, now, baby girl… I didn’t tell you that you could cum. I prefer to have you cum around my cock, anyway.” Bakugou whispered in your ear, his teeth tugging at the skin before he lined himself up with your entrance, his cockhead teasing against your folds. 

“Katsuki… p-please,” you beg, desperately trying to move against your boyfriend so you could get a small amount of friction. 

“You’re so fucking cute when you beg,” Bakugou said with a chuckle, a low groan escaping his mouth as he slowly pushed into you. He paused for a minute to let you adjust since it had been a bit before he started moving, a growl escaping his mouth as he bit down on your neck, his tongue soothing at the inflamed skin as his thrusts picked up the pace. 

“Fuck…” you moaned out at the way that Katsuki’s cock brushed along your walls, the angle he had you in making him hit your g-spot. Your hands found purchase in his hair, your fingers combing through the wet locks as the water hit the both of you. Bakugou continued to lick and suck at your neck, leaving dark marks as he never stopped his pace. You whined when you realized that he had stopped again, his hands cupping under your ass to keep you steady as he turned the shower off before taking you to the bedroom. 

“Katsuki?” You asked, taking your face from his neck to look up at him, a yelp leaving your lips as he tossed you gently on the bed. 

“Turn around,” Bakugou said, and you knew it was a command, not a question. You did as you were told, getting on your hands and knees, a shiver running through you when Bakugou’s hands spread your ass, allowing him full view of your dripping cunt. 

“You’re so fucking soaked for me, I fucking love it,” Bakugou said before lining himself up again, a growl escaping his throat at how tight you were as he sheathed himself inside you.“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” You felt as Bakugou’s hand tangled in your hair, yanking you back so you were close to him as he thrust inside you, his other hand wrapped around your waist to keep you steady. The sounds of skin slapping against skin and you and Bakugou’s moans filled the air as he kept a constant pace inside of you, his balls slapping against you as he pressed sloppy kisses to your back. 

“Katsuki… your cock feels so good,” you whine, pleasure coursing through you when Bakugou’s hand in your hair tightens. 

“That’s right, you fucking love my cock, don’t you? You love my cock stretching you out as much as it can, hah?” Bakugou says with a groan as his thrusts become harder, faster. You’re only able to nod in agreement as your orgasm starts to wash over you in waves, your cunt clenching Bakugou’s dick as your juices drip onto the bed. “Fuck, (Y/N), I’m-.” Bakugou cuts off with a groan as he spills his seed into you, his head pressed into your back as he bites down at the skin; overwhelmed with the orgasm flooding his system. He pulled out of you and pulled you close to him before falling back onto the bed, pulling the covers up around you both. 

“Oh so even though you’re back to normal, you still want to cuddle?” You tease, hearing Bakugou scoff. 

“Shut up. I always want to cuddle you.”

[troubatrain]

good for you - t. jost (part two)

a/n: apparently the only things i can finish are smut which is honestly on brand for me. this part is a bit of filler but to be fair this entire fic is smut with barely a plot so i meannnn but anyways, let me know how you guys like it :)

big shoutout to @hookingminor because nothing gets posted around here without ilyana fr fr

part one

warnings: it's smush time (smut)

So you fucked?

Mat was confused, posted up in his hotel room in Philly trying to navigate the bits of information he’d been getting out of you. You’d barely spoken to him all week, your classes were already killing you and you’d been missing the nightly Facetimes you promised when you moved. Mat thought there was another reason you were ignoring him, the evidence that you did the diry with Tyson was obvious. He was pretty sure you did, the mark on your neck wasn’t as hidden as you seemed to think it was, and you had a pep in your step that you only got after a good hook up.

“Yes Mat, we fucked,” You sigh, pressing your hands against the cool countertop and staring at Mat through your laptop screen, “This is your fault.”

“Oh it’s my fault two consenting adults had sex? Did he stay over?” Mat asks, trying to grab onto as many details as he could.

“No I kicked him out after a second round in the shower,” You admit, covering your eyes so you wouldn’t see the shit eating grin on your best friend’s face, “I kind of want to do it again.”

“Three’s the limit,” Mat reminds you of the golden rule of hook ups. You both came to the conclusion one day, if you fucked someone more than three times, you had more feelings than you realized and it was time to run or let yourself get hurt. Mat seemed to do just fine with it, and most of the time so did you, but Tyson was tempting you.

“Oh my god, he’s calling me,” You panic, Tyson’s contact flashing across your screen. Mat went to open his mouth, some sort of roast about how nervous you were would probably have followed if you hadn’t hung up on him. You waited for one more ring, not wanting to seem too eager to answer his calls, “Hi?”

“Hey,” Tyson drags out his greeting, pacing around his own apartment trying to figure out what the hell he thought he was doing. He wanted to see you again, clothing optional if he was being honest with himself, he just needed you to know somehow that you weren’t just a booty call, “What are you doing?”

“Drowning in homework already,” You whine, rolling your eyes at the chaos around you. The city has been jackhammering outside your place since the day you moved in, stalling you every time you tried to do anything.

“Everything alright?” Tyson asks, his voice was laced with concern by the crashes coming from your end of the phone.

“Yeah, sorry they’ve been doing construction outside since I moved in,” You sigh, rubbing a hand over your forehead, “I really need to get these done-”

“Bring your stuff over here,” Tyson blurts out, grabbing onto the opportunity to see you. He could handle hanging out while you studied, you were sort of friends before, how hard could it be?

“You want to spend time with me while I study?” You question, genuinely curious about what kind of dude you’re fucking wants to do nothing while you actually get some studying done.

“Yes Y/N, I want to spend time with you,” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head at your shock. Of course you didn’t do that with anyone hooked up with, but you’d never hooked up with anyone you knew outside of the bedroom either. Keeping both of those worlds separate kept your heart safe, “C’mon, I’ll even buy you dinner.”

Okay fine, I’m on my way.

***

This was much harder than Tyson thought.

It was easy at first, you came over a little while later and Tyson thought he could control himself. You settled on dinner a few minutes ago, and that’s when things went south. It was the pout, the way you looked at when Tyson said he wasn’t in the mood for sushi. You batted your eyes at him, a small pout on your face and the words Tys please following. Tyson was a goner, calling up for sushi almost immediately while you smirked at him for giving in so easily.

Now, Tyson was just watching you, and not even in a way you wouldn’t notice. Your nose was tucked into your notes, it’d scrunch up every once in a while and Tyson assumed that meant you got to something you didn’t want to deal with. Your cardigan had fallen down your shoulder, leaving a spot where Tyson’s lips could have just landed easily. Your feet were across his lap, Tyson’s large hands on your legs while his thumb rubbed along the fabric of your leggings. His hand was creeping up slowly, your lip between your teeth while you watched him, “Don’t get distracted princess.”

“You’re making that a little hard,” You whine, just as Tyson’s finger slid under the waistband on your pants, “Tys-”

“No keep reading,” Tyson reminds you, humming when you let his hands slide your leggings off. His lips pressed softly against your hips, your eyes far more focused on Tyson’s head between your thighs, “I’ll stop if you can’t focus.”

“Don’t do that,” You sigh, feeling Tyson’s smirk against your skin. Tyson chuckled, a finger sliding your panties to the side.

“This wet already huh? Physics must really get you going,” Tyson teases, glancing up at the book in your hands. His breath was hot against your core, “Smart and pretty is a dangerous combination princess.”

“So I’ve been told,” You let out a gasp, Tyson’s tongue lapping at your pussy slowly. Your hand fell from your book, pulling at Tyson’s curls. His mouth unlatched from your core, forcing you to let out a whine, “Tys that’s not fair.”

“I told you keep reading, can’t have you failing on my watch,” Tyson laughs, laying his head on your hips. He had you in the palm of his fucking hand, every bone in your body was on fire and you hated every second of it. The way you were whining for Tyson to touch you was uncharted terrority, a craving you couldn’t satisfy and it was going to get you into trouble. You focused on your work, a small hum came from Tyson before his finger slid up your folds, “Good girl.”

Your eyes were fixated on the words in front of you, retaining as much as you could while Tyson’s fingers were teasing your entrance. He was moving slowly, loving the way your body reacted to his touch in a way he could have only dreamed. One finger slid in, curling against your g-spot and pulling a moan out of you, “Fuck, I’m almost done-”

“Finish pretty girl, go ahead,” Tyson pushes, smirking to himself at your reaction. His mouth moved to your core, swirling his tongue around your clit and sucking on it. Your breathing was heavy, chest rising and falling while you finished the last paragraph before you were seeing stars. You tossed your book on Tyson’s coffee table, throwing your head back and grabbing his hair.

“Faster, Tys, please,” You beg, your hips lifting off the couch. Tyson slipped in another finger, tongue working against your core. He fingered you through your orgasm, fingers moving lazily in and out of

you when you finally came down, “Tyson, holy shit.”

Since when was Tyson this cocky? His smile was smug when you finally met his eyes, the same sparkle in his eye from the first time

you fucked. You pressed your lips to his, grinding your hips against him, “Your turn.”

Tyson’s eyebrows raised, a wave of shock over his face while you lowered yourself off the couch. You weren’t going to let Tyson just get off with a smile that smug. If Tyson wanted to play that game, you

needed to remind who he was playing it with. Your fingers slipped under his sweats, pulling down his boxers and letting his cock spring free. Tyson’s hand ran through your hair, a finger tracing your jawline while his thumb ran across your bottom lip, “You’re so fucking hot.”

“I’m aware,” You tease, licking the underside of his cock. You moved slowly, teasing him just as much he did to you. Tyson’s hands went to push your head down faster, so you pulled back with a smug smile that matched his, “No touching Tys.”

“C’mon, princess, that’s not fair,” Tyson’s hands flew back, a giggle falling through your lips at his whine. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, taking his length into your mouth until you couldn’t anymore. Tyson groans, his hands balling up into fists to keep himself from touching you, “Fuck, your mouth babe-”

The echo from Tyson’s doorbell bounced through his apartment, reminding you both of the food you were supposed to be waiting for. You pulled away, a smirk on your face, “I think you need to get that.”

“You did that on purpose,” Tyson groans, collecting himself enough to open the door for your food. You waited patiently, watching the way Tyson snapped back into the incredibly kind man you’d always known. If he thought you were dangerous, then he was absolutely lethal with the way he could speak to you as filthy as he did and smile as kindly as he does to others. He closed the door, watching back over to the couch where you were still sitting in just your panties and a tank top, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “Let’s get you fed babe, I’ve got plans for us.”

“Hm, how about you eat it off of me?”

“I swear Y/N, you’re never leaving this apartment.”

[bakatenshii]

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo​, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing​ for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could. 

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it. 

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding. 

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted. 

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you. 

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun. 

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal. 

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy. 

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you. 

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour. 

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care. 

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time. 

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite. 

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy. 

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart. 

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use. 

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time. 

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean. 

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart. 

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream. 

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction. 

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself. 

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted. 

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become. 

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.” 

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective. 

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up. 

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.  

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight. 

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” 

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close. 

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue. 

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.  

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it. 

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh. 

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint. 

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently. 

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go. 

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high. 

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em. 

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you. 

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.” 

“Want a taste?” 

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care. 

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air. 

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners. 

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more. 

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate. 

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him. 

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways. 

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole. 

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name. 

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God? 

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. 

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed. 

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed. 

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in. 

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?” 

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out— 

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection. 

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours. 

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together. 

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him. 

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose. 

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl. 

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies. 

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first? 

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red. 

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm. 

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char. 

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you. 

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there. 

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore,  can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it? 

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart. 

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth? 

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?” 

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really. 

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda. 

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best. 

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him. 

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy. 

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

[baepsaesbae]

Eclipse

Pairing— Day Fairy!Hoseok x Night fairy!reader    

Genre— SMUT, fae au, angst, idiots to lovers

Warnings— Oral (F receiving), nipple play, explicit unprotected sex, hair pulling, both praise and slight derogatory dirty talk bc I can’t make up my mind, slight swearing

Word Count— 3.3k  

Summary— The summer solstice is here and it’s time to celebrate. Your favorite part of the solstice is that you get to see Hoseok, or rather, the love of your life. It’s too bad you haven’t told him how you really felt, even though it has been centuries. Maybe this year will be different. 

A/N— This fic is part of The Fabled Collab hosted by @joontopia, @kimtaehyunq, and @whipped-for-kpop-fics. Hoseok is my sunshine, so I just had to write about him! Thank you to @s0seo and @taegularities for giving me motivation to write. Lastly, huge shoutout to Eden from @thebiasrekkers​ for making this awesome banner for me! As always, let me know how you guys like the fic! My askbox is always open <3

Fae clans have many holidays and rituals, but solstices are by far the most celebrated. Solstices mark the pivotal event that shifts the seasonal responsibilities between the sun and moon clans. The summer and winter solstice are always the biggest events of the year, with about a week of festivities leading up to the final event. 

Sweat ran down your spine as the sun beat down on you. You’ve been holding up a stupid banner for what felt like an eternity.

“Okay wait, you’re gonna hate me but I think we should put it back to where we originally had it,” Sunghoon said with furrowed brows.

“That’s it. We’ve been doing this all morning. Figure this out yourself,” you angrily threw down the banner and stormed off before Sunghoon had the chance to yell at you.

You ignored the friendly calls from other fae that were setting up decor nearby. It was way past your bedtime. Cranky and drenched in sweat, you were definitely not a happy night fairy. Heading straight to the pond, you derobed and found comfort in the cool waters that  washed away your stress instantly. You gazed up at the blue sky while floating on your back. The day truly was beautiful, you couldn’t deny that. However, nighttime was better in your very much biased opinion. The dark sky littered with countless stars that glittered like diamonds was an unbeatable sight. 

“Hey there sunshine!” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You dipped back into the water and turned to the source of the sound.

“Hey there, perv. Care to join me?” you beckoned.

“I wish I could, but I need to go finalize some plans for the handoff ceremony--”

“It’s the same EVERY year. C’mon Hobi, you don’t need to go,” you whined.

“I’ll meet you back here at sunset, how does that sound?” he tried to appease you.

“Midnight. I’m already exhausted, I don’t wanna wake up early,” you blew raspberries into the pond.

“That’s fair. I’ll see you then okay?” Hoseok waved before flying off.

On top of parties filled with indulgences that would blow the mind of any feeble human, Hoseok was the added bonus that made you eager for each solstice. Admittedly, you two have had some sort of flirtationship going on for the past few centuries. Your friends always teased you about how madly head over heels you were for him. As much as you wanted to believe that he loved you in the same way, something always felt off.  

Hoseok always reciprocated your flirtatious advances, but it felt more like a game between friends rather than something substantial. You’ve even observed his interactions with other fairies, and it didn’t seem like he gave you any special treatment. He was simply a good friendly guy that everyone loved, but not the way that you loved him. 

You were dying to know how he truly felt about you. All these years of playful banter had been fun, but they had also been simultaneously eating away at you. There’s no way he doesn’t know that you love him. At the same time, what if he thinks you’re just a good friend? You needed to know for sure, and you intended to confront him about it at midnight.

“Good evening,” you greeted Hoseok shyly as you approached the pond’s bank. 

“Good day to you sunshine,” Hoseok called back as he kicked at the water.

“How’d the meeting go?” you asked.

“Boring as always. You’re right, it’s the same every year. But the elders still want to go over everything again to ensure that the ceremony is perfect,” Hoseok sighed.

“Thanks for coming to hangout with me even though you’re so busy,” you said, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all day! You’re the perfect person to unwind with after a long day,” Hoseok smiled. There it was. The radiant smile you fell for the first time you ever met him. 

“You sure I’m the perfect person for that? What do you do when you’re back in your own land surrounded by other day fae?” you prodded, hoping to steer the conversation onto the ‘what are we’ topic. 

“I have my friends there for sure, and I appreciate them too. But it’s different with you. Maybe because I can only hangout with you twice a year. You’re like my super special friend, yaknow?” Hoseok tried to explain. 

“Uh yeah, for sure. Like a special playdate kind of thing huh?” you tried to hide your hurt feelings.

“Exactly! You get it. It’s like you’re my favorite dessert that I can only have twice a year,” Hoseok nodded.

“Right…” you whispered softly to yourself. You spent the rest of the night listening to the unfruitful discussions Hoseok had during his meetings. All the excitement over the festival had drained from you. Now, you just wanted it to be over so you can go sulk in peace. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Hoseok observed, “You haven’t interjected once about how stupid our traditions are or how you’re looking forward to having long nights again.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m just tired. Sunghoon really worked me to the bone yesterday, that damn day fairy,” you faked a yawn.

“Hey, be nice! Wasn’t it you who volunteered to help us anyway?” Hoseok shook his head.

‘Yeah, because I thought I’d be able to work with you,’ you thought.

“It was a bizarre streak of altruism, that’s all,” you shrugged. 

“Nah, I know you’re a kind fairy deep down!” Hoseok playfully nudged your shoulder. Normally you would welcome this type of physical affection, but for right now it served as a painful reminder that you were merely seen as a buddy. 

You actively avoided Hoseok for the remainder of the week, counting down the hours to when it would finally all be over. You made up some lame excuse to not hangout with Hoseok every time he approached you. He must have caught on by the final day, either that or he was extremely busy. Afterall, he was the MC for the entire ordeal. 

Apparently, your abrasive reputation preceded you because no one wanted your help with anything. As soon as they saw you coming, they would randomly find themselves very preoccupied with something that made them too busy to talk to you. The only person who would put you to work was Sunghoon, who was one of Hoseok’s best friends. You wondered why he was always so nice to you even when you complained the entire time you helped him.

“That’s the last table! They all look great, thanks for helping with the set up,” Sunghoon gave you a thumbs up.

“You know it’s pointless setting up all these tables. Most of the fairies are just gonna be dancing or fucking all night long, no one is gonna be sitting down,” you said.

“Are you gonna be one of the fairies partying?” Sunghoon inquired.

“Definitely not,” you answered curtly.

“Then I’m happy at least one of these tables will be utilized,” Sunghoon nodded, “Try to enjoy yourself tonight okay?”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

The entire forest seemed to come alive that night. The trees swayed with the enchanting music while cheers of merriment erupted around the party scene. You sat alone at a mushroom table with your third (or was it fourth?) cup of berry wine. You glared at the fairies who had lost themselves to their pleasures, whether it be the wine or the toadstools, or perhaps even both. Fairies who had given into their more lustful urges could be seen on the outskirts of the dance floor, some in the innocent stages of kissing and others entangled full fledged fornication. Scoffing at the obscene orgy, you stumbled off to get another cup of wine. Even though you weren’t really participating, you had to admit that fairies knew how to throw a party. 

“Hey ___, I noticed you’ve been by yourself the whole evening. Want some company?” someone asked behind you as you filled up your mug to the brim. You turned to see two Sunghoons merge to become one hazy Sunghoon in the blink of an eye. 

“F-ffuck off Sunghoon,” you slurred.

“I wanted to thank you for all the hard work you did for this year’s summer solstice,” Sunghoon continued, unfazed by your harshness, “Wanna dance to celebrate?”

“Nope,” you answered as you pushed him aside.

“Yeah she seemed pretty pissed dude,” Sunghoon said while taking a large swig.

“At you or in general?” Hoseok inquired.

“Dunno man, she’s always been like that. However, she seemed more aggravated than usual, which is hard to imagine,” Sunghoon chuckled, “Did you do something to her?”

“No! I’ve been replaying everything we talked about at the pond but everything seemed fine! I even told her that she was my super special friend and---oh shit,” Hoseok’s face fell.

“Idiot,” Sunghoon tsked. 

Both fae clans had gathered by the main stage, intently listening to the same speeches that the clan leaders have spoken for centuries. You watched apathetically as the everlasting flame was being formally handed over. The crowd roared as the flame changed from a deep crimson red to an icy silver color with a blue hue, signifying that the solstice had come to pass. 

If the festival wasn’t wild before, it had only gotten more out of hand after the official ceremony. Seeing the other fairies go wild in every sense of the word made you nauseous. The noise level intensified as you watched your fairy brethren engage in rather promiscuous activities. Someone even beckoned for you to join in the fun, but you just walked away. The only person you wanted to have that kind of fun with was Hoseok. It infuriated you that your thoughts always drifted to him. You filled up your cup one last time and walked away from the ruckus, towards an empty grove. Hopefully you would be able to wallow in self pity in peace there. 

The stars twinkled above you, and dim moonlight speckled the ground around you as it shone through the trees. You could still hear the party, but it was much fainter now and served as nice background noise to keep you from drowning in your thoughts. With a deep exhale, you fought to hold back tears. You felt so foolish. Too many years have been wasted in vain for an unrequited love that you should have seen coming. It was so stupid of you to hold onto a sliver of hope that Hoseok would like you back. 

“The party is that way,” a familiar voice called out to you.

“Then why aren’t you there?” you didn’t try to mask the annoyance in your voice.

“I saw you walk away, I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why the fuck would you even care?” you sat up and hissed.

“Why are you being so hostile? You’re the one who has been avoiding me all week!” Hoseok raised his voice.

“I’m sure you didn’t have much time to spend with me anyway,” you huffed.

“That’s not true. I spent every moment of my free time looking for you, only for you to turn me away. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Hoseok calmed down.

“Fine. I’m in love with you, okay? How fucking embarrassing. It hurt when you said that I was your super best friend or whatever. Seeing you afterward just reminded me of how dumb I am,” you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Oh sunshine, I’m the idiot. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re my special friend because I like you too. I wanted to spend every second with you this week. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, I’m so sorry ____,” Hoseok got down on his knees and pulled you in for a hug. You were stunned.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner then!” you pushed him off.

“I thought it was obvious from the way we flirted!” he argued. 

“You’re nice to everyone, it was hard for me to tell,” you pouted.

“My apologies for not being a sourpuss like you,” Hoseok laughed.

“So...what now? It wasn’t really a romantic confession but I guess our feelings are out in the open now,” you whispered as you leaned against him.

Suddenly, Hoseok pushed you back to the ground, straddling your hips. His dark hair nearly covered his eyes as he looked down at you. He was beyond beautiful, his white iridescent wings glittered ethereally in the moonlight. 

“Remember when I said you’re like a dessert I can only have twice a year? I’d like to make that a reality,” Hobi smirked. He bent over to kiss you. It was soft at first, his plush lips pressing up against yours. He gently cupped your face with one hand while the other wandered to your chest, undoing your blouse. Lust overtook the both of you as the kiss deepened and Hoseok fondled your breasts. You let out a small gasp as he played with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.  

“Spread those legs for me, sunshine,” he demanded.

You complied, slowly exposing yourself to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him while in such a compromising position. Hoseok gingerly kissed a trail along your inner thighs towards your core. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm under him in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he chuckled, “Let’s play a game. You have to make eye contact with me while I eat you out. Every time you look away, I stop.”

“You’re evil,” you huffed before reluctantly looking at the beautiful being perched between your legs. 

“That’s my girl,” he purred approvingly before spreading your folds with his fingers. His eyes darkened with lust as you watched him lick tantalizingly slow stripes. He could feel your need for more, so he moved up to focus on your clit, giving it special attention as his tongue swirled around it. 

You tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping him tighter as he licked your clit faster. All your composure was lost as you looked down at him with pleading eyes.

“What is it? Need more?” Hoseok teased as his fingers traced your entrance.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?” Hoseok feigned ignorance

“Please touch me,” you said softly.

“We need to work on your begging, but you’re so adorable I can’t say no,” Hobi dove back into stimulating your clit as he slipped a finger inside of you. He smirked at how easily he went in, and immediately added a second finger. The new feeling had you throwing your head back as he grazed your g-spot. Right as things began to feel good, he retracted everything.

“Hobi!” you cried out in frustration.

“You looked away. Remember the rules to our little game?” Hoseok chided. You glared down at him as he immediately picked up where he left off, not giving you time to readjust. Fighting back the urge to close your eyes, soft moans escaped from your lips.

“Ready to cum, my dear ___?” he asked sweetly as his fingers dipped to directly attack your g-spot.

There was no time to give a proper response. Your back arched and your toes curled up as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Drenched in your juices, Hoseok glistened under the moonlight.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hoseok praised, “But I’m not finished with you yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

He unbuckled his trousers, releasing the monster that dangled between his legs. You willingly spread your legs for him, eager for more.

“So needy, you haven’t had enough yet?” Hoseok tsked as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds.

Finally, Hoseok began to bury himself into you. He took his time, relishing how your warm walls squeezed him. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, focusing on feeling every inch of him. Once he bottomed out, you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer. The dark lust that swam in his eyes broke for a second, replaced by the warm smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. He bent down to kiss you, and you happily reciprocated. 

Hoseok moved his hips slowly as he fucked you at a deep yet gentle pace. Mouths still colliding, you shyly licked at his lips. Taking your hint, Hoseok’s tongue met yours. As the kisses deepened with more saliva being interchanged, Hoseok’s thrusts became harsher.    

“You’re so fucking sexy. Lemme see that ass baby,” Hoseok growled as he flipped you over.

He smacked your ass twice and watched it jiggle in awe before placing a firm grip on your hips. Almost animalistically, he bucked into you. Your body jolted forward with each thrust. You had never been fucked this hard before, and it was heavenly. Hoseok’s control over his body movement was insane. Your moans grew louder as his hips continuously rolled into you. 

One of Hoseok’s hands formed a tight grip on your hair, roughly bringing your head up off the ground. You couldn’t stop your wanton moans from filling the open air. 

“H-Hoseok,” you cried out.

“What is it? Is it too much for you?” Hoseok cooed in your ear as he brought your head back even closer to him.

“Mmm-no,” was all you could make out.

“I knew you could take it all, such a good slut,” Hoseok praised as he let go of your hair.

Unable to hold yourself up, you immediately fell back onto your chest. Your fingernails dug into the dirt as you could feel another orgasm swelling up inside of you. 

“I’m gonna cum again,” you wailed out.

“I’m almost there, wait for me baby,” Hoseok instructed.

With perfect timing, Hoseok let out a guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside of you. Sounds of pleasure bounced around the grove as you came in unison. Hoseok’s cum dripped down the sides of your inner thighs when he pulled out. 

“How did I do, sunshine?” Hoseok asked jovially as you laid on the ground before him.

“You knocked me out. I don’t think I can move for a while,” you weakly answered with a smile.

“Not a problem, we can just stay here for a while, sunshine,” Hoseok laid down beside you, beckoning for you to rest atop his chest. 

“I like when you call me that,” you yawned.

“Sunshine?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, that. It makes me feel special,” you nodded.

“Is that so? I’m glad it makes you feel special, because you are. You’ve always been the spunky night fairy that everyone knows but is too afraid to approach,” Hoseok laughed.

“What! I am totally friendly! Just not to those who piss me off,” you defended, “Which...I guess is a lot of people so I suppose I see your point. What made you want to be my friend if everyone thought I’m scary?”

“You treated me like everyone else. It always felt like people put on a fake facade around me since I’m the chief’s son. They’re nice to me to try and curry favor with my father, or maybe flirt with me to try and gain some special sort of status. I don’t know. I’m just me,” Hoseok shrugged. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re my sunshine,” you hugged him.

“That makes me feel great. I’ll do my best to see you more than twice a year, okay?” he kissed your forehead.

“I guess I can clear my schedule and come over to visit you too,” you giggled, “Or maybe we can run away and make a clan of our own.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, “Don’t tempt me. I’d love to go somewhere where no one knows my name or expects anything from me.”

“How about we go to where the day meets the night?” you offered.

“Like what? An eclipse?” Hoseok said as he gazed into the night sky.

“Precisely. We can make an eclipse clan. We only have to do festivals for eclipses, and those are kinda rare,” you giggled.

“Sounds like a good dream, sunshine. Let’s seriously discuss it in the morning when we’re both more sober,” Hoseok kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight, my sunshine,” you whispered into his chest.

Published July 23, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 20] FINAL

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, shibari, dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, overstimulation/forced orgasms, squirting, degradation, name calling, daddy!kink, gags! 😍💕 ✨HAPPY NEW YEAR!!✨ Here’s to more fun fics in 2021! I can’t believe this is our last chapter though omg 😭 It’s been suuuuch a journey and a privilege to write this little series out! I’ve honestly thought about a camgirl/boy series for like, over a year now, and I’m glad I finally did it! I completed one of my goals! 🥺💕 2020 was definitely a wild one, but I want to thank you all so fuckin’ much for supporting me and stickin’ it out with me all year! Here’s to more in the coming year!💕 Also I was proofreading this at the dining table last night thinking my roommate wouldn’t come out of their room but they did(while I was making dinner and my hands were dirty so I couldnt close my laptop ☠️) and they walked past my laptop and now I’m convinced they saw my fucking smut fic right in the open so yes my little mini-break next week is MUCH needed cause I am ✨embarrassed✨ 🤣 I’ll still do my inbox roundup tomorrow and probably answer a bunch of small thirst posts ‘n stuff throughout the week but there won’t be any drabbles! For now, enjoy chapter 20 🥺, have a safe weekend, and remember that I love you~ ❤️🍒💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 COMPLETE

Seungcheol wakes up much earlier than you do the next morning; pressing a kiss to your forehead as you groan and snuggle deeper into your pillow.

“Baby, I need to go run some errands for a little bit, okay? Just keep sleeping, you don’t need to get up yet. But, I made breakfast and put it in the microwave for you when you decide to get up later.”

His voice is muffled and you can barely understand what he’s saying but you nod; a soft sigh on your lips when you drift back into dreamland. He takes his time getting ready, checking his phone notifications as he gets dressed and places a note on the nightstand knowing that you didn’t catch a single word he said.

‘Hey, did you get everything I asked for?’

Jimin🧍🏻: of course, who do you think I am? Jeongguk?

Jimin🧍🏻: and btw, i’m just giving you a crash course okay? We don’t really have a ton of time

Jimin🧍🏻: did you watch those tutorial videos I sent you?

‘Yeah, I did some practice on my breaks, but I guess you can tell me if I’m doing anything wrong.’

Jimin🧍🏻: okee, i’ll be waiting. Don’t get here too late!

‘I’ll be otw soon. Thanks again, Jimin.’

“Ow--damn, okay, you don’t need to tug on it so much!”

“Sorry, I’ll be careful! And why are we practicing on you anyway?! Couldn’t you just have shown me pictures or something?”

“How else will you learn if not on an actual body? It doesn’t work the same way, Seungcheol.” Jimin pauses, checking himself in the mirror. “Also, keep in mind she does have boobs so just… go slow, okay? It’s not gonna sit like this on her.”

Seungcheol blushes a crimson red; biting the inside of his cheek at how amateur he was at this.

“Okay…”

Seungcheol is gone for a lot longer than you anticipate and although he replies quickly to your texts, you can’t help but be curious about where he’d gone and what he was doing.

Especially knowing that the two of you had to film tonight and knowing that everything was up to Seungcheol.

A shiver rolls down your body at the thought and you quickly try to shake off the nerves that seem to slowly invade your body when your mind starts to wander.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure…”

“I’m home!”

“Where have you--oh, that’s… a b-big box? Um, should I be concerned...”

Seungcheol grins, shrugging as he sets it onto the kitchen counter. “Just some supplies for tonight. I had to go pick them up from a friend but I had to make sure everything was right.” He notices the way you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the box; eyes twinkling when he makes his way towards you.

He tilts your head up to meet his in a searing kiss, lips easing into a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck and melt under his touch. You moan against his lips just before he pulls away; staring dreamily at him while his hands start to roam over your clothed body.

“We have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart. Let’s pamper you a little before then, hmm?”

j__min: ??? where’s the loverboy

j__min has donated $200

angelhan has donated $75

therealchan99 has donated $50

xcaliburDK has donated $75

xcaliburDK: is that the sybian? Haven’t seen that in a looong while

You bite your lip and nod, somewhat shy as you sit alone in front of the camera. “Seungcheol’s still… setting up but he told me to start! I’m a little nervous, to be honest…” Your eyes flit to Seungcheol who rummages through the box in the kitchen and from the angle you’re sat in, you can’t see a single thing he takes out.

Earlier, he’d cooked you your favorite meal and even took the time to give you a full body massage before the two of you cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie. To you, it seemed a little too suspiciously tame and you only found yourself more nervous when he made you drink two glasses of water and ever so quietly announced it was time to start getting ready for the camshow.

“He’s being so suspicious! He was even gone for a few hours earlier today…” You mumble; brows furrowed at the camera before checking the comments.

It still amazed you every time with how much money you and Seungcheol made from the camshows and videos and it made you feel even better knowing that everyone loved the chemistry the two of you had together. There were a lot of video requests and ideas mixed in with the comments at any given time and you were definitely ready to pitch some to Seungcheol now that you’d rebranded your channel to be a couple’s channel instead.

“Almost done, sweetheart!”

gc__koo: he told me to watch cuz he was being suspicious with me too 

gc__koo has donated $50

alphagyu97: what is he even plotting

alphagyu97: i am excited to see the sybian again tho ngl

artist8hao: pretty baby gonna squirt for us again?

universe_WZ: hell fuckin yea let us see how fuckin wrecked you get on that machine

You feel your pussy clench around emptiness at their comments; already feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter with the anticipation.

Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and Seungcheol walks towards the bed with a wide smile and the same box in hand. “Ready?” You can only nod back slowly, watching as he dumps the contents of the box right next to your body.

gc__koo: oy

chwenon: oh shit

sleepy_wonu: oh baby, you’re in for it now

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

Your entire body fills with warmth as you look over the various objects; unsure of where to really look first. “I, um--”

A stack of red ropes sits next to a small bullet vibrator that sits next to a ball gag that sits next to a pair of EMT shears and your eyes immediately flit up to Seungcheol who only smirks back at your shocked expression. “I had some other toys I wanted to use but I figured I should go easy on you, y’know? Since you showed me some mercy last night.”

Nodding, you reach out towards the ropes, touching them shyly. “Why red?”

“Thought they’d be on theme for you, babygirl.”

Seungcheol takes his time; remembering Jimin’s words when he tugs the ropes around your wrists.

“Colour, babygirl?”

“G-green… daddy…”

He nods, sitting up on his knees behind you as you sit on the sybian and face the camera. You bite your lip, somewhat embarrassed that you were already soaking the toy underneath you as Seungcheol worked to bind your arms behind you.

“D--daddy, where did you l-learn this?” You whisper, somewhat curious if this had anything to do with why he was gone for so long earlier in the day.

“Mm, daddy’s friend Jimin was kind enough to help me get the tools and teach me a few tricks to make sure I kept my babygirl safe. Wasn’t that kind of him?” You nod gently, gulping when you shift atop the machine slightly in hopes of relieving some of the growing sexual tension in your body. “Why don’t you thank him properly, sweetheart?”

Your hazy eyes make eye contact with the camera, head tilted slightly. “T-thank you, J-Jimin… for--for helping daddy…”

j__min: omg a shoutout ive made it

kitty_junjun: we never thought we’d see the day

tangerine_kwan: and here we all thought you were gonna be the bad guy huh

hoshi_tiger_xx: like when u only see previews of the book online but the rest of it is different ykwim

Seungcheol makes sure your arms are bound snug enough but not too tight; leaning away slightly to admire his rope work. “Feeling okay so far, babygirl?”

Nodding, you whine back slightly. “Y-yes, daddy… But… my--my pussy wants s-something…” He laughs in return, readjusting so that he’s sitting on your side this time to give himself easier access to start the rest of the bindings.

“Is that so? You’re gonna have to be a little more patient this time ‘cause daddy’s not done yet.” He starts working on the rest of the harness; going slow and checking in with you often to make sure none of the ropes were digging into your skin or making you uncomfortable. “You’ll have to forgive me a little though, I’m admittedly a ‘lil inexperienced so our pretty babygirl is only going to be tied up in this pretty harness for tonight.”

gentleman_josh95: the fact u even took the time to learn just for her

gentleman_josh95 has donated $100

artist8hao: seriously, the dedication

kitty_junjun: we stan a man who knows safety and etiquette 

Comments of reassurance and donations flood in at Seungcheol’s small apology and although the two of you are in your own world; you can tell from just the amount of pings coming from your laptop that they all seemed to be encouraging him.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as Seungcheol continues to move around you on the bed to finish the harness and a smile graces his lips when he starts to secure the last knots in the back. He can’t help but mentally pat himself on the back at how neatly he’d done it for his first time.

“There. All done, baby.”

Your eyes flit to the laptop’s screen to see yourself; cheeks hot when you see how fucked out you already look and he hadn’t even touched you properly or turned on the machine.

The star harness Seungcheol had tied looks pretty with red ropes and you can’t hide your smile at how good it looks on you too either. “Ah, daddy made it really p-pretty… Thank you.”

This time, Seungcheol nods, letting you admire yourself as he silently reaches for the small remote for the sybian, switching it on.

Your entire body lurches forward as soon as the vibrations attack your clit and you immediately find yourself moaning and grinding down onto the machine as he gives you some relief.  

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Now let’s really have some fun, huh?”

You need to cum.

Badly.

“Awww, is my pretty baby drooling? Does it feel that good on your sensitive ‘lil clit?” He teases, smoothing down your hair as you cry around the ball gag in your mouth; drool seeping out from the side of your lips when he raises the vibrations a setting higher.

You don’t know how many times he’d played with the settings and edged you by now, but all you do know is that the urge to cum only grows stronger as you grind against the machine, soaking it with your wetness as you chase the pleasure building up in your body again.  

Surely cumming was okay, right? He never said you couldn’t.

You whimper around the ball gag, eyes fluttering shut when the tension in your body snaps in the blink of an eye and your thighs clamp down onto the sides of the machine. Throwing your head back, you moan against the gag and ride out your high as Seungcheol watches you from the side.

“Mm, bet that felt good, huh? But I know you want something in that greedy ‘lil cunt of yours, don’t you? You want daddy’s cock slamming into your tight ‘lil hole ‘til it’s full of my cum, right, sweetheart?” He licks his lips, turning off the sybian as you slump forward.

universe_WZ: shit shes so sensitive

chwenon: especially with her arms bound like that i bet she’s on cloud nine rn

gentleman_josh95: her cute lil head is probably all fuzzy already from all the sensations

therealchan99 has donated $100

gc__koo has donated $75

j__min has donated $150

All you can do is whimper and nod; teary eyes blinking back at Seungcheol as he smirks and leans in towards you.

“Mmm, you’ll get what you want eventually. But for now, you’re gonna cum again.”

He turns the sybian back on, licking his lips when he sees your body tensing again. It was always easier to get you to cum a second time and his point is proven when you mewl around the ball gag a few minutes later; chest heaving in stuttered breaths as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit when you’re quickly thrown into another orgasm.

“You always cum for daddy so easily, don’t you, babygirl?”

Your head feels fuzzy after already cumming twice in such a short span of time but you nod, head lolling to the side as Seungcheol finally turns the sybian off for good.

Seungcheol gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s scooting in and fiddling with the clasps at the back of your head to take the ball gag off.

A thread of saliva connects your lips to the gag and you whimper at how good it feels to be able to actually speak again. “D-daddy…” Drool drips from your mouth as your lead lolls forward and Seungcheol is quick to bring a hand up to keep your head up as he looks into your lust filled eyes.

“Colour, sweetheart?”

“Still g-green…” He nods back, checking to make sure none of the ropes had shifted. “Would you like some water before we continue, baby?”

“Yes, daddy…”

He fetches you a glass of water, tilting it against your lips as you down the entire glass and you find yourself a little surprised at how needed it was. “Thank you, d-daddy…”

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Ready to keep going?”

You nod, a little bit more energized. “I hope everyone, mmh, l-likes the show so f-far~” Your teary vision prevents you from reading the comments and before you can even make an effort to, Seungcheol is already helping you off of the machine and helping you sit on the bed across from him.

alphagyu97: ugh she looks so fucking good in that harness

angelhan: right? That shade of red looks so good against her skin too

angelhan: so fuckin pretty

tangerine_kwan: pics for the private room later? Plz i beg

Seungcheol takes this time to take off his boxer briefs, cock curving up against his abdomen when he’s fully naked across from you. He wraps a hand around his cock, moaning and spreading the precum down his shaft as you watch. “D’you want this, baby?”

Your lips fall open in a silent moan as you watch Seungcheol jerk himself off and you can’t help but squirm. “Y-yes…”

“Tell me exactly what you want then. Let them hear what a filthy little slut you are for me.” You can’t help but feel miserably empty watching him and despite having already cum twice, you want his cock fucking you open and making you cum again.

“I--I--”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“I, ngh, I want d-daddy’s cock… Please? Ah, I--I wanna feel you fucking my--my pussy into the, mmh, s-shape of your c-cock… And I w-want you to c-cum inside my--my slutty little h-hole…”

Seungcheol scoffs, hips shallowly thrusting up into his enclosed fist. “That’s right. You’re just my slutty ‘lil babygirl that lets me use all her tight holes how I please, right? You like it when I cum down your throat and in your pretty ‘lil ass. But we all know you like it best when I cum in your hot ‘lil cunt. Makes you feel all warm and full, doesn’t it? You like it when my cum is dripping out of your spent cunt and sliding down your shaky thighs.” This time you nod furiously as you whine back in response.

“P-please… Can’t wait any--anymore!”

This time, the impatience takes over as you slightly tug on the ropes; whining when they don’t give. “Daddy!”

And this time, he gives in quicker than he anticipates, growling as he reaches for the EMT shears to cut you from the harness. “Don’t let your arms down, no matter how much you want to. You’re going to strain your arms if you move too fast so let me handle it, okay, sweetheart?”

The sudden gentleness in his voice has a giddy warmth pouring over you as you nod and sit still while he cuts at various points of the harness to make the ropes fall loose around your arms and chest. You keep your arms in the same position like he requested and you soon feel his hands roaming your skin and massaging your arms to get the blood flowing again.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” He whispers against your hair, leaning down to kiss your shoulder before he slowly easing your arms down from being folded behind your back.

He continues to massage your arms for a few more minutes before it’s you that’s getting impatient. “Daddy… Can you fuck me now?” Whispering, you slightly turn your body to the side to meet his gentle stare.

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, nodding. “Lay on your back for me, legs spread.”

You follow his orders as you quickly scramble to get into position; legs spread wide for him to situate himself between.

“Mm, your pussy is still so fuckin’ wet. I wanna taste you on my tongue, baby.” Whines spill from your lips as you shake your head ‘no.’

“No! My p-pussy feels empty, I need y-your cock, daddy… ‘n I’m so wet, you can probably, ah, just s-slide your cock in…”

He wraps a hand around his cock just as you wrap your legs around his waist and he guides himself until the head of his cock is right at your entrance.

Neither of you say a word as he slowly starts to sink his cock in; guttural moans on his lips when he meets no resistance and bottoms out in a singular thrust. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so fuckin’ wet. Shit, and so t-tight!” You clench around him, already feeling good with his cock inside of you as you beg him to fuck you hard and fast.

“Ngh, p-please fuck me like--like I’m your, hah, c-cocksleeve… I want it f-fast, daddy!”

He grits his teeth at your words; drawing his hips back before snapping them into you just how you wanted. “Fast, hmm? All you think about in that pretty head of yours is my cock pounding you open, huh? Slamming into you so fuckin’ good, it makes your toes curl when you cum.”

Seungcheol starts a quick pace, already feeling the pleasure building up for himself when you’re reduced to garbled noises and broken cries of his name. The heels of your feet dig into the small of his back as you try to press him in closer and he’s quick to reach for the small bullet vibrator left on the bed next to your body.

“Your body is so fuckin’ sensitive, I can already feel how tight you’re getting around me. So fuckin’ greedy to cum too. Already came twice and you still want more. You’re not satisfied until your whole body is shaking underneath me, huh, sweetheart?” He turns the small toy on, pressing it to your clit as you yelp and let out choked sobs.

“Ah, ngh, d-daddy, my--my clit’s t-too sen--sensitive! I--I can’t--!” Squirming, you feel the pressure building up obscenely quick; bottom lip quivering when he takes one of your free hands and makes you hold the toy to your swollen clit.

“Just a little more, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna cum?”

He angles his thrusts to graze against your g-spot and loud cries of his name leave your lips in a hurried, jumbled mess when he only doubles his pace.

The sound of donations and comments pour in like water and get lost within the ringing in your ears; unable to even warn Seungcheol that you’re about to cum when you feel your entire body starting to lock up underneath him.

Your lips part in a silent scream and your back bows off of the bed, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum for the third time. Seungcheol growls, fucking you through it as you squirt all over his lower half.  He finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as you cum, but he feels himself quickly following suit with your warm walls fluttering around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, that’s right. Squirt for me, get me fuckin’ soaked while you cum.” He uses a free hand to make sure you keep the toy pressed to your clit, growling when he starts to unload his cum inside of you. “Mmh, gonna fill your cunt up with what you want, baby.”

A shaky moan leaves your lips as you feel him throbbing inside your pussy; walls clamped down onto him in a vice grip as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm.

“Ah, d-daddy’s cumming suh--so much inside of my p-pussy…”

Whining, you feel Seungcheol’s grip on your hand give way as he rides out his pleasure and you take the opportunity to turn off the small bullet vibrator while he doesn’t notice.

You watch his face contort in pleasure, hips still shallowly thrusting into you as his entire body shivers above you.

“D-daddy’s so h-handsome...” You mumble, cheeks hot when he cracks a smile through the pleasure wracking his body and chuckles under his breath. 

“Thank you, babygirl.” 

After you end the show, Seungcheol makes sure to cuddle with you on the bed for a little while longer.

“One more glass of water, baby.” You whine in response, pouting up at him before he gets up from the soaked sheets. 

“But I already had a glass! If you have a piss kink just say so, ‘Cheol!”

He lets out a boisterous laugh at your comment, trudging back to the bed from the kitchen with another glass of water for you. “You need to be hydrated, sweetheart. You came three times and we played a little more rough today. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” 

“Fine, but you didn’t deny my comment.” You snarkily reply, taking the glass from him as you down the water. 

“Don’t make me have to punish you again! I’ll have you know I still need to get you all washed up and change the bed--”

A faint pinging has the two of you turning to the laptop; still on your camming homepage from where you’d checked the revenues from tonight’s show. 

A small [1] sits above your inbox and Seungcheol is quick to turn to you with an eyebrow raised. “I thought you turned off the messaging system on your profile?” 

You tilt your head in confusion, handing him the emptied glass. “I did. The only messages I should get are from, like, the actual system admins or other creator accounts which, I haven’t received any ‘til... now, I guess?”

Seungcheol sets the glass down onto the nightstand before he takes a seat next to you, dragging the laptop closer as you go to check the notification. 

“’Love&Letter Films’? Aren’t they one of the biggest adult film companies?” Mumbling, you click on the message, giving yourself and Seungcheol a second to process the message that stares back at you; a shocked smile on your lips.

‘Hello!

I hope this message finds Cherry and Seungcheol well. 

We, at ‘Love&Letter Films’, have really enjoyed the shows and videos from your channel throughout the years and we really have enjoyed watching the growth of your channel and the addition of Seungcheol to it. The dynamics between the two of you are rare in this industry and we’ve yet to see anyone like the two of you in this market. 

The shows from the last two nights have proven that the two of you have the right kind of chemistry to film together for bigger productions and we would love to hire you for a few film productions we have planned in the upcoming weeks as a feeler. Of course, all expenses paid by us if you would kindly take our offer. 

We love the various scenes and roles that the two of you take on with ease and we would love to help propel your careers forward, should you pursue a career in the adult entertainment industry. 

Please don’t hesitate to contact me as I’ve listed my contact information below. I’m excited to hear from the two of you and hope to work with you in the future on many projects.

Respectfully, 

Kwon Soonyoung, L&L FILMS CEO’

[wastelandcth]

Coney Island - cth

summary: Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

author’s notes: this was...wow. i hope you all enjoy shoutout to @in-superbloom and @hoodhoran for letting me give them sneak peeks to hype myself up over it! 

warnings: mentions of a car accident, mentions of a hospital, angst, sorry there’s a cliffhanger. 

masterlist || request || more songs for calum

You’d always been told that finding your passion at a young age was a blessing. That finding the one thing you wanted to do for the rest of your life and running with it was a blessing in disguise. You’d never understood why everyone would say that to you, you loved making art and there had never been a downside to creating art. There had never been a point in your life where your job had become a stressor and where you’d regretted ever wanting to chase the thrill of canvas and paint. Every day you’d wake up and have the time and space to create scenery you’d seen in dreams or in real life, little pockets in time you could freeze on canvas for the world to see. It’d been a rough start, selling your work for whatever amount you were offered until you had your break and found yourself in a museum overseas staring at the large painting hanging on the wall of some museum you’d dreamed about. You’d been standing there in the empty halls, breathing in the quiet of the hall, the occasional footsteps bringing you back into the moments before a shadow next to you brought your attention away from your splatter of colors and lines to the person who stood next to you. And that’s how you first met Calum, in the silence of an art museum where his eyes studied your work as if he’d been trying to find all the secrets you’d hidden in the paint. It was where you’d told him about the painting, where you’d both found one another in more ways than one. 

That’s when you finally understood the blessing in disguise. 

Coney Island had always been a warm and distant memory to you, the boardwalk lined with thrills on either side, waiting to be explored. You remembered cotton candy dreams and spending days in the sun with your friends. Coney Island has been love and laughter, sunshine and summer days, and a place where the pit in your stomach was gone. It had been all you could think about when summer was mentioned, an inspiration to the painting you’d whispered to Calum about. The colorful swirls of paint and oils that gave you your first real break in the art world had all come from the place where boardwalks and rides had brought you nothing but happiness. 

But now, the boardwalk was silent and you felt like a ghost walking through it. 

The ocean was inviting, a teasing view from wherever you stood, tempting you to step into the sand and sink into its secrets. The boardwalk echoed with every step you took, bouncing the noise up into the sky where it returned as a sharp crack of thunder. The empty bench you’d found was hard and cold, leaving your bones aching with a chill you weren’t sure would ever go away. The wind thumping against your ears as you took in the cold ocean air into your lungs, letting the salty breeze burn them and leave you gasping for air. Your eyes searched the water, a muted gray and blue that seemed to stretch on for as far as your eyes could see, swirling with white foam from the waves that crashed onto the sand every so often. 

The lights from the amusement park flickered against the shore, strobing in and out of view which left you shaking and with teary eyes. The waves filled your head with the screeching of tires and breaking glass. The swirling of the ocean putting the same fear in the pit of your stomach as when you’d heard Calum’s scream. The scream that had been cut off as the call went dead. 

“I know I promised I’d be able to make it to dinner…” you mumbled hesitantly, frowning as you heard Calum’s sigh, “But I-”

“Let me guess, you have a very important gallery show and it just happened to slip your mind again so you’ll have to skip dinner with the band?” Calum mumbled, the annoyance in his voice obvious, “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. It’s fine, you’ll still make it to the show, right?”

“Well…” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair as the busy streets of Brooklyn surrounded you, “I’m really sorry, Cal.”

“Are you serious?” he scoffed, “We’ve had this planned for weeks now! You can’t just-”

“Calum? Calum?! Honey?”

The hospital had become a maze, turns, and twists that only led your farther and farther from your destination. With every squeak of your shoes against the vinyl floor, you felt yourself drifting farther away from him, from the man who’d you’d been putting second to your job and the one you didn’t know you’d be able to see again. Your adrenaline had been on high since the moment the emergency worker had answered the tenth call you’d made to Calum’s phone, telling you the what, when, and where had happened to Calum. You’d raced through the busy sidewalks, trying to find the hospital where Calum’s unconscious self was being sent to. But even as you walked through the barren halls, hands shaking and dried tears on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for it all. What if he never woke up and the last words you’d shared between one another was a fight? What if he never knew that you loved him more than anything in the world? What if all the nights away from him could’ve been switched for time spent together? 

“Darling?” one of the nurses said softly, breaking you out of the hurricane of thoughts, “Hey, take deep breaths, how can I help you? Are you hurt?”

“Where’s….they said he’d be here but I don’t..” 

“Who are you looking for, honey?”

“Where did my baby go?”

You’d been ready to answer, to tell them that you needed to see Calum and hold his hand. To make sure he was okay and that he’d be able to make it to his show that night, to be happy on stage. But that was all thrown out the door when the doors opened, bringing a gust of cold and rainy wind into the room as well as the man you’d talked to on the phone only minutes before. Your breath caught in your throat, your body going stiff as you watched them wheel him into the building and then away from you. He was bloody and bruised, his eyes shut in a way that seemed too peaceful for the situation he was in. His hair was flat against his head, the usual curls that had roamed freely on his head now matted with blood, and you couldn’t help but rush out of the building. The walls had started to close in, trapping you in as you watched Calum disappear behind a crowd of nurses and doctors, and you finally took a breath of air as the door shut behind you and the hospital was behind you.

The waves were louder now, crashing against the shore with a force so strong they shook the boardwalk beneath your feet. You hadn’t realized how far you’d walked, not until the familiar lights of the boardwalk shone beneath the fog that had come with the rain, how far you’d walked away from him again. It wasn’t like he’d want you there anyways, the annoyance in his voice had been a clue if you’d ever seen one. You had just pushed him aside again in order to go to another gallery you knew deep down you could afford to miss. It had been like that for weeks now, you both danced around the fact that you hadn’t been in the same city for months on end. Daily phone calls or text messages were replaced with a silence neither of you enjoyed and airplane trips became lonely. You’d been off traveling the globe as your newest works were displayed all across and Calum had been off promoting the band’s latest album. It hadn’t been the first time both of your jobs had overlapped schedules and being away from one another for this long had happened, but the silence was new. 

Which is why the fact that you were both finally in the same city was so important for Calum, and for you. But the idea of finally seeing him had caused the pit of anxiety to form and you found yourself looking for excuses to push him away. And now your last memories of him would be seeing his bruised body being wheeled away from you, the way his voice had cut off with a squeal of tires, and the sound of glass breaking. All because you’d put a distance between the both of you because you felt that intense feeling that you could no longer ignore. It had first started that night when his back became a canvas for your art, and his soft gasps whenever the cold paint hit his skin had ingrained themselves in your brain. The gasps and giggles mixed in with the smell of paint and you felt yourself falling more and more in love with Calum, seeing yourself old and gray with him. It had been terrifying and the shapes you’d made with paint had become nothing but a blur of colors. 

“I love you,” he mumbled against his arm, watching as you’d started packing up the paints and brushes you’d just used on his skin, “You know that?”

“Mhm, and lucky for you,” you teased, pushing down the pit of fear into the back of your mind, “I am deeply in love with you.” 

That’s what loving Calum had always been, a blur of beautiful colors. 

The air had begun to pick up now, swirling and swinging around the sky as the storm grew closer and closer. Not that it mattered much, your face was already soaked with tears and stained by the black mascara that had been running down ever since you’d walked out of the hospital. You wished he’d be by your side, hugging you and telling you it would all be okay. If you closed your eyes and focused hard enough you could hear his voice, modulated over the speaker of your phone as he told you about his day. He’d been trying to distract you again, the frustration of your newest piece not looking how you’d imagined bringing you close to tears. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah? And then you can paint all over my body so you can find inspiration. I promise.” he chuckled quietly, probably laying in a dark room across an ocean. 

“I miss you,” you sighed, watching the sunrise out your window and rubbing at your tired eyes. 

“I love you,” he whispered, a smile in his voice, as if those were the only three words you needed to hear. Maybe they were, maybe those were the three little words you would remember before the crash pulled him away from you. 

Time seemed to tick by slowly, almost torturing you, as your eyes drifted from the ocean storm ahead to the screen of your phone. You knew it was coming, the call that would change your life forever. The one that would leave you broken and shattered on the beach like the shells that had crunched under your feet. Soon enough, the buzz of your phone would bring the time with Calum to an end. Soon, it would just be you, the ocean breeze, and the memory of Calum. The crack of thunder shook the world around you, almost making you miss the sharp shrill that came from your phone, the screen lighting up with a picture of Calum you’d taken a few months back. Your lungs froze, hands shaking as your thumb slid over the screen and accepted the call, bracing yourself for the inevitable. 

“H-hello?” you asked, mentally preparing for the tears that would fill the ocean with salty tears. 

“I think I-I forgot to say your name and they wouldn’t let me in no matter how many times I asked,” you stuttered out, your feet carrying you back towards the sidewalk, towards Calum, “I love you so much I’m so sorry I’ve been so far away.” 

That’s what you would’ve said to Calum, if you’d only had more time and if you had said no to more events. You would’ve spilled your heart out to him, telling him all the secret words you had only whispered in the darkness of the room when you were sure Calum was asleep and his soft snores confirmed he’d never hear them. And even then, as the static of the ocean makes it hard for you to hear the call connect, the waves crashing onto the shore as the wind picks up doesn’t matter. Nothing matters then because the sharp inhale of air brings them to a dangerous silence, a silence that hurts your ears as the ocean, the waves, thunder, and air all come to an end with a soft whisper. 

“Baby?” Calum’s voice spoke out, the softness of it laced with a pain you wished you could take away. But it was Calum’s voice and that itself felt like a lightning bolt to the chest, a breath of fresh air, and a cold wave to wake them up. 

And that cold bench on Coney Island feels like the warmth of his voice. 

join my taglist: @hoodhoran​ @moonlightcriess @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lowkeyflop  @whoyougonnafind @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @ashtonsunflower @2fangirl4u @multistann @wiiildflowerrr @himbohood @in-superbloom @ashtonsunflower @suchalonelysunflower @killmywildflower @sebsbrokentoe @nicebasscalum

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

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