#fellas turn ur brightness up for this one..

[prince-of-khrysalis]

Hi I would like to hear abt ur ocs 👀

cracks knuckles, TYSM FOR ENABLING ME! I have a whole lotta ocs so I think for this ask I'll just pick a few so I don't write a whole novel at once! A few pirates of mine! If anyone wants a wizard post of the same nature... (;

Let's start with my love my light my darling, Desiderius Calamitas! My resident musketeer. This guy.

Desi is, in a sense, my 'main' pirate! This is The Pirate! Born and raised in Monquista, he had it pretty rough being a non-native and dealing with Monquista's... shall we say exclusionary tendencies. Being a gorgon and growing up to feel ashamed of it and hide this at ALL times, along with being treated like some dangerous feral beast, Desi left the instant he could. Which was when he turned 18 and hijacked a pirate ship, effectively coercing the crew into handing over power as a trade-off for saving them from a close call with the Armada. He's a megalomaniac, it's true. With a love for all things bright and sparkly and pink and oh, he just wants to be a pirate yk?? He takes over as Captain to a reluctant crew and ends up slowly becoming a very infamous and wanted figure. Because he's a menace to society<3! A smart chessmaster, but naive and vain and the holder of a megalomaniac complex. Lovely little man. He wants to take over Monquista someday, but for now? He will happily settle for having the highest bounty possible by the Armada (and trying to figure out how guns work haha help he's never done this before).

MOVING ON! To one of his crewmates! Marion Merripen! (Desi's boyfriend cough cough) Who is the crew "witchdoctor", though in reality? He's a necromancer with a hatred of his own magic and is far more inclined to act as the crew's medic. Having been raised for a time by a Marleybonian doctor, he has medical knowledge and is in charge of keeping everyone else in one piece... mostly. Though he's been a pirate for longer, he doesn't seem all that interested in fame or fortune. Rather it's just... what he knows, after being picked up as a younger teen for the crew to get him away from Marleybone. Why away from Marleybone, besides it being hell on earth? Marion is a fae! Specifically, the son of a faerie and a merrow, a hybrid who can't help but stand out and... does not bode well with worlds like MB who can't hide their judgements. So he became a pirate instead. It was a nice outlet for his INTENSE repressed anger! He's a very grumpy fella, but he has plenty of reason to be, even if he's a touch too rough and mean at times. So a vulgar and fairly mean goth who's also in charge of patching ya up after ya get stabbed on the job for the millionth time, good luck!! And how about the starter antagonist, General Achille, (Desi's other boyfriend cough cough) someone who Desi and co. assume is a member of Kane's court. A 7ft tall battle angel General, who, after one too many disturbances, is tasked with finding and capturing Desi and his crew. Or killin him. Whichever comes first, the Armada isn't picky. Achille opts for the second option more often than not. There's a few issues though. Issue number one is that Desi is IMMEDIATELY taken by the sight of him, falling head over heels for the person trying to murder him weekly and finding him to just be the most radiant man to ever walk the Spiral. Achille has no fucking clue what any of that means, but over time Desi's weird reactions and constant flirting strike up a bit of, gasp, fondness?? Perhaps? And he starts to look forward to their encounters a bit, perhaps. Maybe. The other issue is that Achille is... not a clockwork, not that this is common knowledge. The crew doesn't have time to think about this while he's trying to slice them in half. But raised under the 'care' of the Armada since he was terribly young (after he lost his mother, three guesses as to how), he was taken in as a pet project. His sun magic being seen as a potential weapon to be wielded. Essentially brainwashing him for his entire life to be the perfect solider and question no orders, to not think for himself. But no one knows this. Not even Achille, having fallen so deep into the trance that he truly sees himself as a machine and needs to work to regain his humanity. Woo! After all, those clockwork wings attached to his back sure speak another story, huh?

[1kook]

espn & bdsm

this is part 6 of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.  warnings; smut (18+) in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink miscellaneous; kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count; 12.7k

notes; this is like… a healing fic… for the part before lol. also i did not know what was going to happen next as I was writing. anyway entire smut scene was based off THIS bad boy ur welcome fellas and the Jungkook described here is from in the soop episode 2... cutie... yes every single 1 of those words is a link

lmk what you think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

You're at the nail salon with Doyeon when she first mentions it.

“Have you ever, like,” she pauses, making a vague, swivel gesture with her head. You furrow your brows and she sighs. “Topped him. Have you ever been the one to take control?”

Your nail artist blushes, furiously filing away at your nails until the most perfect stiletto shape stares you back in the face. “Oh. Not really,” you admit, wiggling your wet toe nails around in the styrofoam flip flops issued by the salon. “I mean, sometimes I talk him through it.”

Doyeon snorts. “Babe, talking him through it and being the boss are two completely different things,” she says rather dryly, seemingly unbothered by the fact your two nail techs are being subjected to this more than intimate conversation. But you’ve had weirder talks with Doyeon in public; this doesn’t phase you. “Listen,” she says suddenly, dropping her voice down to a whisper that has you leaning closer to hear her. “You know how I’m a member of that site, right?”

You nod. “Oh yeah— Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide!, right?” She kicks your shin, but the jab is muted by the bottom of her own styrofoam flip flop.

“Yeah, just tell everyone here my credit card number while you’re at it,” she hisses. Her anger fades soon enough. “Well, they’re always sending me all sorts of freebies for my devoted patronage,” she explains. She quirks her lips to the side, throwing one brief glance at the blushing nail artists in front of you. Eventually she seems to come to a conclusion. “Long story short they sent me some cuffs and I’m gonna give you them.”

Your jaw drops. “Woah, really? I don’t know… Don’t those usually run kinda pricey?” you ask tentatively. You’re trying to play it off, act like this isn’t something you want, but the reality is so much worse.

The minute the word cuffs had slipped through her lips it’s like a door opened before your eyes. A big, wooden door with chains strapped across it and a padlock you swore you’d never open.

Somewhere in your mind, you had always convinced yourself handcuffs in bed was something you’d like to have done to you. But, because she was your best friend and by extension a personified version of all your freakiest, often filtered, thoughts, it was like Doyeon had reached straight into your cranium and extracted your most secret fantasy— and that was Jungkook in handcuffs.

Your nail artist pats your hand, motioning you to head over to the drying station. Before you can be separated from Doyeon, you whip around to throw her one desperate look. “I have never wanted anything so bad in my life.”

She cackles loudly, easily garnering the attention of every employee and nail enthusiast in the salon with the evil witch vibes she exudes.

Truth be told, your argument with Jungkook had brought upon a newfound appreciation for him. Weird to say, considering you had wanted to kill the dude when it had originally happened. But the great thing about you and Jungkook was that you were flexible people— both in bed and out. A few long conversations later and you had reached the root of the problem.

And that root was your apparent lack of communicating when something was wrong. It was weird to think that anything could ever be wrong when Jungkook was involved. He was your honeybun, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin. Your sweetie pie, for lack of better wording, and he could do no wrong—

—is what you’d like to say. But if there’s anything you’ve learned in the past year of dating Jungkook, it’s that perfection was a made up belief that revolved around the idea that someone’s flaws couldn’t possibly be a good thing. And as you’ve come to realize, Jungkook wasn’t the perfect gentleman you’d initially chalked him up to be. He was human, just like you, with his own list of worries and thoughts, and sometimes those thoughts manifested into flaws. They could be ugly or they could be beautiful, but at the end of the day, they all made Jungkook into the person he was— and you loved that person. Disgustingly so.

You had your moments, and he had his. Everything would not always be sunshine and rainbows for the two of you, but it was fine so long as you learned to play in the rain and stomp in the puddles.

Still.

You were you.

A slightly mean, slightly conniving, petty ass human who had been plotting his revenge since the day the two of you made up. I mean, you weren’t actually just going to let him get off the hook like that, were you? He had saved himself last time with a gooey, heartfelt apology and confession, followed by some extraordinary dicking down that had left you Naked and Afraid for three days after.

But you weren’t that easy! No, ma’am. You had to let him know that some gorgeous demon dick was not enough to satisfy you after a fight like that.

Jungkook was in for a desperately needed reality check, one that jingles in your purse when you step out of the Uber that drops you off at his place. You know he’s home because his front light is on, and also because he’d texted you that he was watching some soccer match on tv tonight. He’s a pretty big fan, especially of the club playing tonight, so you decide it’s a perfect night to strike.

Your copy of his key slips right into the keyhole. Your slippers are in the same place they always are, neatly set off to the side right by the stairs. He’s not in his living room, undoubtedly the most perfect place to watch any type of sporting event with that huge Jumbotron of his. The damn thing made it feel like you were in the stadium itself.

There’s a quiet hum coming from upstairs. You creep up the steps, carefully rounding the corner at the landing until you’re staring right into his dimly lit bedroom.

The way Jungkook’s got his bedroom set up is so that you can look directly at his door from the bed, terribly inconvenient for when that sleep paralysis demon hits in the middle of the night and you’re left staring into the dark hallway. He’s snuggled comfortably over his sheets, about three pillows supporting his back. The light of the tinier, more acceptable television he keeps in his room is dancing across his features in bright shades of green. You almost throw yourself onto his mattress like a starfish until you spot the carefully placed foot on the bed.

“What the hell did you do?” you blurt. A wrong move, considering he hadn’t seen you yet and your sudden appearance makes him jump nearly ten feet into the air, almost knocking down the bag of ice that sits on his ankle. “Oh my god, it was that damned Pilates class, wasn’t it?” you fret, rounding the bed until you’re on his side.

“Oh hey,” he says as if you’re not currently pulling the first eight seasons of Grey’s Anatomy to the forefront of your head to treat him. “When’d you get here?”

“Cut the crap, who did this to you?” you ask, sitting beside him with the utmost care. You drop your bag off to the side, the loud clatter of the inside contents vaguely registering in your head. The ice pack comes off easily, revealing a relatively okay looking ankle save for the slight swell towards the more medial aspect of it.

Jungkook takes the moment to sit up, joining you in your inspection of his injury. “No one,” he answers, using his new position to drop a kiss against the side of your head. “I fell off the ladder helping Mrs. Jung across the street.”

You choke. “You fell off a ladder?” you squawk, eyes wide as your gaze shifts from his ankle to his entire body.

He places a hand on your shoulder, “babe, I was on like the third step. It was one of those old wooden ones,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. “The step just happened to snap on my way down.”

You scoff. “That old lady is out to get you,” you warn him. “Remember the time she almost had you plug in those burnt out Christmas lights for her? The ones that would have electrocuted you to death.”

Jungkook laughs, settling back into his stack of pillows. “In her defense, she’s old,” he offers. He’s wrapped up in a black hoodie, fluffy bangs parted down the middle. He’s got on some blue shorts, a huge difference from his usual dark-toned clothing. He looks so good and warm, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact you can’t possibly handcuff this poor, injured angel to his bedpost and ride his cock into the sunset. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

You deflate, wild fantasies thrown out the window. “Yeah, well,” you sigh, ditching your pants and climbing over him until you’re snuggled into his side. “Wanted to show you my nails.”

It’s a lame excuse. But he buys it, so.

“They’re cute,” he says, taking your hand in his. He turns your hand over, inspects your pretty new acrylics like he actually has any idea how much they cost or how sexy they look. He raises your hand to his face, pressing a smooch against your knuckles that has you heart thumping embarrassingly loud in your chest. God, you hated this fool.

You turn your nose up at him, like you’re some snooty rich girl who couldn’t give him the time of day. Except it’s not like that, and Jungkook knows.

“What’re you watching?” you ask instead.

He’s got that stupid dopey smile on you, the one that takes one nudge against his side to snap him out of. “Ah, just the game.”

You squint at the screen. “Is this Fox Sports?” you ask in disgust.

He pinches your side. “This is ESPN,” he corrects. “And you don’t know shit about sports channels,” he points out. “So sit this one out.” You give in with a huff, cuddling closer into his side while trying to jostle him as little as possible. Jungkook seems to have no deeply rooted concerns about his injured ankle if the way he hauls you into his arms is any indicator. “How did nails with Doyeon go?”

“You know, the usual,” you respond, idly toying with one of the strings on his hoodie as your eyes focus on the little figures running across the screen. He hums, gesturing for you to elaborate. “Talked about sex, how much better than you at life she is, some more sex.”

He scoffs at that. “Doyeon is not better than me, and I have a whole trophy case to prove it.”

“Okay, but have you singlehandedly Twitter beefed with an entire sorority in your freshman year of university and won?”

He frowns. “No.”

You give him a look, one that says stand down now unless you want to lose to my best friend and get your feelings hurt. Jungkook understands. “Anyway,” he announces, turning his attention back to the screen with you. You think his team might be winning—you vaguely remember seeing him wear a similar jersey once—so he’s pretty relaxed for now. “They’re doing pretty good considering they just lost their main striker.”

You have no idea what that means. “Who? Messi?”

Jungkook knows you don’t know. “He doesn’t even play in this league,” he explains anyway.

“Oh, I saw him trending on Twitter last week. Thought he died or something. Whole time it was just a bunch of soccer nerds crying about him leaving his team.”

He laughs. “You should be a sportscaster,” Jungkook decides after your ever-so-eloquent recap, tucking his head cutely against your shoulder. There was a study once that claimed the incessant need to squeeze a baby’s cheeks or hug puppies tightly was actually the innate human response to kill something they felt threatened by. Oddly enough, you find yourself thinking of that as Jungkook’s citrusy shampoo floods your nostrils.

“Oh, speaking of Doyeon,” he says suddenly. “Did you give her my address? I got a weird package from that store she likes that I genuinely don’t remember ever ordering.” You frown, sitting up slightly until you can look at the side of his face, the cute mole on his cheek calling your name.

“What?” you ask. “Was it in her name?” Jungkook nods. You’re about to tear the roof off his house and go hunt that evil wench down when realization dawns on you. “Oh, no, yeah I gave her your address. My mom stayed over last weekend and Doyeon needed to order something nasty. Guess it got delayed until now.”

Jungkook nods and then doesn’t say much else, which is weird considering the circumstances. You expected him to gently scold you for carelessly giving the psycho that was Kim Doyeon his address, but she’s been here a few times to pick you up, even came over for beer night once. She probably knew it anyway, but you still expected some type of reaction of disapproval from him.

Something’s off, and you know better than to leave it at that. You poke his cheek, right where that mole you’d been eyeing was. “Did you open her package?” you ask, grin slowly consuming your features at the fact Jungkook was apparently a mail snooper.

He looks away. You laugh. “Oh my god, you did,” you cackle, sitting up beside him to get a good look at the blush growing on his cheeks. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” he huffs, pretending to be overly invested in his soccer match again, but that ship died the moment you stepped into his room. “Babe, I can't see the match.”

You roll your eyes, purposefully shifting in front of him so he’s forced to look at the maniac look in your eyes. “What did you see, Jeon Jungkook, and are we going to steal it from her again?”

His cheeks bloom impossibly darker at that. “No!” he coughs, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

But your curiosity is at its peak now, his reactions only exacerbating it. You grab him by the shoulders, hands balling the material of his hoodie as you give him one firm shake. “What did you see,” you demand.

“Oh my god,” he gives in. You release him and he flops back onto his pillow mountain. “They were things,” he explains slowly, cheeks rosy. “For your, y’know,” a vague gesture over his chest.

You frown. “A bra?” you guess. “I’m not gonna lie, Kook, think I just lost a little respect for you.”

“No!” he huffs. “They were… little clamps. For your nipples.”

If this was a cartoon, you’re almost certain you’d be that character with the object in question in their eyes, heart fluttering in your chest at the words that leave his mouth.

Immediately, two things become obvious to you.

One, Kim Doyeon was a bigger freak than you’d expected who obviously dabbled in an assortment of trades. Clamps, your brain screams, overwhelmed with the image that appears in your head, the one that has a shiver running straight to your core. You would have to thank her for this gracious, unintentional gift she’s bestowed upon you.

Two, you’re gonna have to write her the best, most plausible apology letter tomorrow when you inform her those clamps have been lost in the mail, never to be seen again. Or you could just straight up tell her you snatched them up the moment you found out what they were, but you doubt that’ll go over well.

Jungkook groans. “You have that look in your eye,” he points out. You snap your attention back to him. “And I just wanna say in advance that I don’t think i can give you the fun night you deserve, baby,” he apologizes, motioning towards his still swollen ankle.

Something distinctly mean switches on inside of you.

You flash him a sweet smile that has him letting down his guard. You lean forward, pressing a soft peck to his cheek as you climb down the bed towards your forgotten purse that’d been resting on the floor until that point. “Who said I needed you to have fun?” you throw over your shoulder, carefully slipping Doyeon’s first gift close to your body so he won’t see.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed look. “Really,” he says dryly, “you think you can have fun without me?” He almost sounds cocky, as if the idea of you even enjoying yourself the teensiest bit without his help seems unfathomable.

You grin, padding over to his bedside, where you carefully pick up his hand. You mirror his actions from before, pressing a sweet kiss against his knuckles that makes that conceited look slip off his features for a second, eyes soft.

Click.

Jungkook frowns. “What the—“ before the sentence can leave his mouth you’re lunging forward, wrestling his hands above his head, until they’re both secured at his headboard by the soft cuffs Doyeon had given you that afternoon at the salon. Jungkook’s wide eyes stare back at you, briefly leaving to glance up at the silver chain that wraps behind one of the rungs of his headboard. “Babe,” he says slowly. “What the fuck.”

You beam at him, leaning down to snatch a pillow from beneath him so he’s better positioned, leaning back more. “So cute,” you gush, taking in the way his raised arms have the hem of his hoodie lifting at the waist. There’s a faint trail of hairs around his belly button that disappear beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Do you like them?”

Jungkook blinks. “Baby,” he says a second time, much slower and a little too calm for your liking. It almost gets swallowed by the roar of the fans on TV. “What is this?”

You ignore him, scampering around his room until you find the hot pink Sexuality Unleashed packaging peeking out from beneath his bed. Sure enough, it’s in Doyeon’s name but his address. A whole complicated mess just for some nipple clamps she’ll never see again. It’s what’s inside anyway, not that you thought Jungkook was lying, but there’s something about the actual, carefully wrapped packaging that makes your heart and pussy flutter.

“Oh! Aren’t these the prettiest things?” you exclaim, whirling around to where Jungkook is shaking up a storm with his cuffs, pout growing on his features the longer you leave him there. The ice pack slips off his ankle, falling onto the comforter beside him from all his movement.

Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit interested in the silver nipple clamps in your hands, too busy trying to free himself from the sudden trap you sprung on him. “Sweetheart, we can play with those tomorrow, alright?” he tries, relaxing his arms and finally looking your way. There’s a frustrated furrow to his brows, one you rarely see but adore very much. “Just undo these cuffs for me, yeah?”

You tilt your head to the side, placing a hand on the inside of his calf that you trail all the way up as you move to stand beside his hip. His thighs flinch at your touch, tensing when you stop just before the crotch of his pants. “Mmm, don’t think so,” you smile, dropping the thin chain beside him.

Your shirt goes first, peeled over your body until you’re left standing in your bra. It’s nothing too special this time, just your average run of the mill comfort bra hugging your chest. But that doesn’t really matter, especially not with the way you’re hoping things play out tonight. You’d discarded your jeans a few moments prior, so the shirt joins them on a pile on his floor.

As much as he tries to act irritated by your refusal to release him, there’s a slow stirring beneath his shorts. It’s emphasized by that bright blue material, cock swelling as he watches you take off your clothes. “Baby,” he warns, possibly for the last time. But you won’t know unless you push some more, you tell yourself, placing one knee on the edge of the bed, the other thrown across his lap.

“Wow,” you marvel, picking the chain up once more. Jungkook shifts beneath you, half hard cock brushing against the cleft of your cheeks. “Don’t you wanna see what it’s like, Jungkookie?”

He says nothing, watching you with solemn eyes that leave no room for reading him. Behind you, the game commentator is chattering up a storm.

Doesn’t matter, especially not when this flimsy metal had you so completely hypnotized. You reach behind yourself, unsnapping your bra with one fluid motion that has the cups falling onto your lap, soft chest on display for the man before you. Your breasts spill out slowly from their cage, pretty hardened buds slowly coming into his view. They make him pause his fussing, half-lidded gaze falling to the swell of your chest hungrily. His hands jerk, the cuffs doing their job of keeping them there.

You grin, placing a hand on his chest, over his hammering heart. “Do you wanna see me wear them?” you croon, tugging the material of his hoodie up his stomach, until your thighs are sitting directly on his tiny waist, thin thong just over his belly button. You trail your hand up, letting it brush up the side of his neck and bury into his scalp. You give an experimental tug that has his eyes squeezing shut. “Yes or no, Jungkookie?”

He’s being a huge brat for you, eyes scrunched up together like the sight of you enjoying yourself sans his touch is unimaginable. Another tug of his hair and he’s exhaling shakily, a quiet, “yes,” slipping past his lips.

The chain drops onto his chest with a quiet thud, shocking him enough to blink his eyes back open. Releasing your hold on his hair, you sit back on his lap, towering over his fidgety body like a goddess at a temple, him the lowly worshipper beneath you.

Your hands crawl over your body, starting somewhere around your waist. The glide up over your tummy, caress the underside of your breasts teasingly. Sure Jungkook knew your body well, but you knew your body best. One hand rubs teasingly over your breast, palm pressing down slightly against where your nipple lies, while the other drops down between your thighs, slowly grinding against your mound.

“Look, Jungkookie,” you gasp, body twitching at your own hands. You take a hardened nub between your fingers, rolling it back and forth until it’s standing at its peak. “I can do it without you,” you tease, rolling your hips against him slowly. The thin material of your thong does nothing to save you from the delicious swell of his cock against you. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, circling a finger over your clit. “It’s, it’s even better.”

His restraints jiggle against the bed frame, an obvious look of distress crossing his features. “No,” he huffs out a whine, tugging at the cuffs as you slowly unravel on his lap. They don’t give, no matter how much he pulls. You know he’s holding back, afraid of damaging his headboard, and you take advantage of the fact as you move to roll both nipples between your fingers. He groans harshly, jaw tight. “Hate you,” he hisses, hips wiggling beneath you. “Hate you, hate you.”

You breathe out an airy chuckle. “R-Really?” you ask, trembling hands finally reaching back for that second gift of the day. Your breath is shallow, so thoroughly wound up from your own playful hands, and you tremble at the mere brush of the cool metal. “Oh fuck,” you whimper, bringing them up to your chest, “I’ve never done this before,” you confess.

There’s a sense of amazement that consumes you at the thin chain you hold in your hands, the pretty gold painted clamps on each end. It makes you shiver, body unconsciously grinding down against Jungkook’s lap where his engorged cock was fighting against the material of his shorts.

“Then let me help you,” he tries, the childish tone from before melting into his usual silky smooth baritone. Jungkook even softens his gaze at you, let’s his tongue peek out to wet his lips as you almost seriously consider his request.

Had it not been for the sudden loud shout from the sports commentator behind you, a long obnoxious gooooooaaal, you probably would have fallen victim to that honey-eyed gaze. You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.

Without a second thought, you bring one of the little camps close to your chest, giving it a few experimental squeezes until the nerves are replaced with an overwhelming wave of horniness that even Jungkook can sense. “Fuck,” he groans, shaking his restraints back and forth like a wild animal as you slowly get to clamping your left nipple.

You’re not sure what you expected; part of you had thought it was going to be an excruciating pain, one that would make you want to scream and shout in sheer agony. The other part had reduced it to a barely there pinch that would never live up to your fantasies. As it stands, the sensation of the clamp around your swollen nipple sits right in between, drawing in a choked gasp that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Baby, sweetheart,” Jungkook gasps alongside you, eyes zeroed in on the pinched off bundle of nerves. There’s a sudden grinding sound that fills the air, like the sawing off of wood that definitely doesn’t sound good, and it’s a direct result of the fight he puts up against his headboard. “Please, please,” he begs, muscled arms tugging back and forth. “I have to touch—“

The second clamp goes on, making your entire back arch as if you were possessed. You're not, just extremely overwhelmed by the prickle of pain on your tits that makes you grind down against his cock, hands fisting the front of his hoodie like it’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Oh,” you shudder, thighs quivering at the heightened stimulation you receive from the clamps sitting on your nipples. “Kook, I-I can’t.”

He growls, hips bucking beneath you in a crazed effort to better situate you on his lap. “You gotta take these off me,” he rasps out. The next buck of his hips makes the chain dangling between your breast brush dangerously close to his face. He’s unintentionally goaded on by the TV in the room, the annoying drone of the commentator shouting something about never giving up. “Can make you feel so much better, sweet girl,” he cooes, jutting his head out like he needs a kiss.

Your head feels woozy, pussy throbbing at the sensations being channeled down into your core. Your eyes flutter shut, and before you can think it through, you're blindly reaching for the chain, giving it one light tug that has you mewling like a kitten. “O-oh, fuck,” you sob, looping your finger around the thin chain carefully. Another tug that pulls against your nipples sends a gush of wetness down between your thighs. “Cock,” you slur dazedly, “need your cock.”

Jungkook shudders out a long breath. “Le-Let me go then, sweetheart,” he chokes out, “let me fuck that pretty little pussy for you.”

“Uh uh,” you disagree, bringing another angry buck out of him, metal cuffs rattling loudly. “Want you to watch,” you pant, reaching behind you for his shorts. “Watch me, Jungkookie.” It takes three tries for you to get a grip, the elastic material slipping from your fingers before you finally gain some semblance of control and paw them down . The shorts and the boxers came off together, his engorged cock springing up to tap against your ass. “W-Watch,” you repeat dazedly, leaning forward with one hand on his shoulder to line him up with your dripping hole. Behind you, the commentator is droning on about core balance or something of the sort. It takes two tries as you blindly have to tug your panties to the side as well, and just as you have his fiery red tip against your entrance, something else happens.

He catches you, pearly teeth biting down on the chain that connects your clamps in a motion you can only liken to a bloodthirsty shark jumping out of the water, jaws snapping to catch its prey. It dangles in his face, the same way his own necklaces have done to you so many times before. But the difference between you and Jungkook was that while you let his assortment of necklaces hypnotize you, drag across your face painfully, he doesn’t. He snaps forward, catches it between his teeth.

You mewl loudly, foggy vision turning onto him. Jungkook’s got this unreadable look on his face, likes he’s pissed off and turned on all at once. “You’re not in charge,” he murmurs around the chain, the s and c sounds all slurred together. “You will never be in charge, silly girl, you got that?” he spits, yanking his head back like an animal, pulling your upper body with him by the two golden clamps on your nipples.

There’s tears in your eyes, lining your waterline and threatening to fall with each tug his mouth gives against the chain of your nipple clamps. He’s got his neck craned back as far as he possibly can with a pillow beneath him, chain links digging into his bottom lip. “Y-Yes,” you sob, your entire body quivering at the way he so easily manages to overthrow you, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, solemn eyes flickering across your twisted features once more. He gives another purposeful tug, head snapping back just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough to tug you forward again, a loud whimper torn from your throat. “Undo these cuffs for me, sweet girl,” he commands softly, jiggling the same restraints he’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes fighting against.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, hands wildly slapping down on his bedside table. You had had half the mind to leave the key there when you had retrieved the cuffs, telling yourself it would be easy access afterwards. It’s not, apparently, the silver pick falling just out of reach. For some reason— it’s probably the sensitivity and horninesss, the pinpricks of pain that originate from your nipples —this fact frustrates you to the point of tears.

“Easy, doll,” Jungkook talks you through, voice low and soft beneath you, “relax and grab it for me, okay?” You nod, angrily blinking away a tear that drips down your face. It splatters on Jungkook’s cheek, bringing a soft huff of amusement from him.

Finally the key brushes your hand, and you sigh in relief, shakily leaning forward to undo the lock above his head. He releases his killer chomp/grip on your chain just as you release his cuffs. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffle, a sudden need to apologize as you watch him rub at the raw skin around his wrists. “I didn’t—“

“Shhh,” he says, cuddling you into his chest. “It’s alright,” he says simply and you believe him.

Which ends up being a terrible mistake exactly ten seconds later when he’s shoving your face into the sheets, your cries and whimpers muffled by the sounds of the game on TV as he winds your arms behind your back. You struggle for all of five seconds before a soft click resounds from behind you.

“Did you think I’d just let that slide, sweet girl?” he growls against your ear, hot breath fanning across your skin. “I'm not your dog, __,” he spits, suddenly yanking you up by your cuffed wrists. Your chest is heaving, arms aching from the way he’s got you on your knees, blind to whatever he’s doing behind you. “Don’t lock me up, because I’ll always come back to bite.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you stammer, flinching when a hand snakes around your waist, an experimental tug to the chain of your clamps. It sends a shudder down your spine, amplified by the hot press of his body behind you. “I won’t do it again!”

“I know you fucking won’t,” he laughs meanly, trailing his hand down over your mound. One finger circles your clit through your underwear, a shaky sigh exiting your lips at the jarringly light touch. “Because I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve learned your lesson, silly girl.”

“I said sorry,” you whimper, thighs quivering. His cock brushes up against you, the same cock you were about to ride until the sunset. Oh how the tables have turned.

A hand slips beneath your underwear, pad of a finger rubbing against your swollen clit. “Oh,” you exhale, surprised with the suddenly gentle touch following his words. “Th-That’s nice,” you murmur, head lolling forward at the slow rhythm he sets, playing with you like you were a toy that needed warming up.

“Yeah?” he husks out. There’s a yank to your clamps that makes you gasp, chest following the motion as if it’ll reduce the shock. “You think this is about making you feel nice?” he murmurs. Another tug, followed by another, until he’s raining down a series of rhythmic shocks onto your tits that make you shiver and twitch, tongue heavy in your mouth to the point you feel like you’re drooling.

“Wait,” you whimper, arms twisting behind you. “Hurts, hurts” you cry, arching your back like it’ll save you from the steady stimulation against your rock-hard nipples.

“Does it?” Jungkook hums, one hand working away at your clit. He swirls it around his finger, pressing down on the nub in an attempt to distract you. But it only heightens the sting coming from your breasts, the blossom of pain that grows over each mound the longer he plays with you. “Good. Want your pretty little body to hurt for me, baby.”

Right after saying that he releases the grip on your chain, letting it swing back and forth until it eventually rests on your stomach, throbbing nipples spared for now. A breath of relief washes over you now that you only have to worry about the hand playing along your folds. The TV is still flickering to your right, but the commentator's voice sounds fuzzy and so far away, like he’s in a whole different dimension while you and Jungkook are here.

Your reprieve lasts shorter than you expected, as his free hand slowly begins creeping up your waist, fluttering over the little gold clamps pinching your nipples. “Pretty girl,” he compliments, nudging one tender nub with a playful finger. “Pretty, pretty baby,” Jungkook murmurs as he begins massaging the scorching hot skin around your nipples gently. There’s a warm kiss pressed to your shoulder, followed by a trail up the side of your neck. You shudder, trying to focus on the hand that creeps down your folds, teases itself against your entrance.

“Jungkook,” you whine softly, rolling your head to the side so he can suck bruise after bruise onto your skin. You’re definitely drooling, the saliva thick and heavy in your mouth. “T-Too much.”

“Thought you wanted that,” he mumbles, kissing up and up until he’s at your jaw and then he’s at your mouth, languidly kissing you. He’s doing that thing again where he’s hellbent on drowning you in his spit, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he was preparing you for something. “Wanted me to watch you bounce that tight little cunt on me while your tits were like this,” he says, punctuating his statement with a light slap against the side of one breast. It makes you jump, a moan catching in your throat.

The finger that had been playing meanly along your wet folds eases itself past your lips, plunges head first into the aching heat inside of you. He works it against your walls, thumb over your clit as he curls his finger inside of you. You moan loudly, shaking in your restraints. The hand over your chest squeezes, pushes the clamp deeper against your breast until your entire body is short-circuiting.

Your first orgasm comes over you with all the grace of a lightning bolt; it’s sudden and jerky, has every nerve ending wildly spasming as you whimper his name. “No more, no more,” you beg, head lolling back against his shoulder. He shows you no mercy, simply rubs furiously over your clit, until you’re jerking into his maniac hand.

When it’s over, he places a kiss against your jaw, curling his finger inside once more “Play with yourself,” he whispers.

“H-Huh?” you stutter, the rattle of your cuffs loud in both your ears, but not as loud as the breath you were trying to catch post-orgasm. You wonder if maybe he got ahead of himself again—he occasionally did that, thinking ahead to a point you hadn’t reached in your normal progression of sex —but suddenly he’s shoving you back down again, the finger that was slowly driving you insane rudely exiting your cunt.

You flop down against the mattress with a squeal, wiggling around like you actually had a chance of doing anything with him watching you like he is. You struggle for a few beats, every shift against the mattress rubbing harshly against your breasts until you nearly want to cry.

Just as you reach that point, he’s rolling you into your back, hands uncomfortably bent beneath you. It leaves you unwillingly arching to accommodate them, tits practically presented for him to see. “Pretty girl,” Jungkook groans, reaching down for the first time that day to touch himself.

His self restraint was truly unmatched, you realize, watching him squeeze the base of his cock. He runs a palm over his abdomen, up his chest. He drags the material of his hoodie along with it, eventually shucking it off somewhere to the side. His hair, so fluffy and soft, flops over his forehead, a few defined strands tickling his eyebrow.

The mere sight of him alone made you shiver, pussy clenching at the wet dream before you. He’s not an idiot either, obviously aware of what the sight of his body does to you, the tattoos littering his entire right arm that hypnotize you. The faint glow of the TV screen against his side makes him look like the cover star of every middle-aged wife’s erotic romance novel. He reaches said arm down, runs a hand along your thigh until you’re spreading them wide for him.

He doesn’t touch you like you want, only slides over your body until he’s toying with the chain of the nipple clamps that were slowly becoming the bane of your existence. “Open,” he says suddenly, and you do. Your mouth drops open, tongue stuck out slightly even if you don’t know why. He’s ingrained the response into you by now, made you into a desperate slut always ready for anything in your mouth.

This time it’s the stupid, stupid chain connecting your nipple clamps. He tugs it until it’s pulled up, the pull against your nipples making you whimper and writhe. The metal is cool when it touches your lips, but his fingertips are warm. “Good girl,” he praises once you bite down; even this sends a shock of nerves down your spine and to your pussy. “Just like that.”  

A muffled whimper escapes your lips, tears clouding your vision at the stimulation that was quickly overwhelming you again. Part of you thinks no more, please, I can’t. But the other has you spreading your legs for him, quivering pussy desperate to be filled.

The distress must be obvious in your face if the way Jungkook kisses your neck is any indication. He’s got one hand massaging against the underside of one breast, like he’s soothing the striking pain of your pinched nipples for you. If anything, it only strings you along more. “Stupid baby,” he chuckles meanly, a soft puff of laughter against your jaw, “thinking she could push me down.”

He leans back onto his knees, that same careful brush against the inside of your thigh bringing about an embarrassing whimper as he peels your thong away. “But you didn’t really want that, did you?” he eggs on, slowly shifting down against the bed, until his mouth is hovering over your exposed lower lips. His breath is warm, makes you yearn for him to be closer. “You like when I shove my cock into your little pussy, right? Like how it feels when I turn you into my little slut like this,” he sighs, pressing one chaste kiss against your thigh that makes you pull at the cuffs behind your back.

Soon, his mouth is on your clit, the same clit he had previously pampered with his hands but chooses to play with again. He licks an obscenely wet stripe from your throbbing hole to your clit, tongue curling devilishly towards the end. You whimper, though the sound is distorted around the chain in your mouth. Jungkook groans, dives mouth first into your cunt until he’s suffocating himself. His cute nose is pressed against your clit, and he takes advantage of the fact by taking one, dramatic sniff with his eyes rolled back. A soft moan escapes him.

“Fuck,” he shudders, “smell like heaven for me.” You moan at his sweet words, eyes squeezed shut as if that’ll stop the buckets of overwhelmed tears that you’ve been fighting off since the moment the clamps came on. “Wanna give you the world, angel,” he breathes, licking languidly against your folds, tongue occasionally peeking inside.

You mewl and writhe, every movement sending a tug of pain over your nipples. You want that gorgeous cock deep in your cunt, want to feel him in your womb, but you can’t voice any of this with the chain of the clamps between your lips.

Jungkook sits up suddenly, and you’re thinking yes, finally, before the look on his face has you screeching to a halt. There’s something distinctly different about him, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen in bed before. Your thoughts are only confirmed when his foot slides onto the floor, as if he’s about to leave.

The panic must be evident on your face, because Jungkook is quick to swoop in and reassure you he’s not done with you yet. “Wanna fuck your little pussy,” he admits, carding a hand through your hair. “But the truth is I don’t think you deserve that just yet.”

With that he slinks off the bed, leaving you writhing in confusion as he heads off for the closet behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing, can only hear the shuffling of something back and forth. The TV is still on, the loud cheering of the fans muffling his clattering. You’re suddenly reminded of his swollen ankle, craning your neck to tell him to not overdo it, when something dark covers your eyes.

He’s standing just beside the edge of the bed, his signature teddy bear heat emanating off in waves so thick you could touch them. “Do you trust me?” he murmurs, voice close but not close to your ear.

Something swells in your chest, an emotion so intense your entire pelvis tightens up at the realization that Jungkook was asking for permission to blindfold you. You’re almost certain it’s one of his ties, a silky black thing that covers your vision for the most part, save for a little crack by where your nose juts out. A shuffle to your side, and then he’s gently prying the chain he had pushed past your lips earlier out. “Need an answer, ___,” he says quietly, almost nervously.

“Yes,” you gasp, your entire body set aflame at the sudden turn of events.

If you were being honest you would have never predicted your night would end like this. Maybe you came in a little too cocky, a little too optimistic for the night. It was supposed to be Jungkook handcuffed and powerless, you remind yourself— how on earth did you get here?

“Good girl,” he praises, giving you a little encouraging nudge to raise your head for him to actually tie the knot behind your head. It’s definitely one of his suit ties, you realize, because there’s a distinct cross-stitch pattern that you can feel only when it’s tightened against your skin, pressing against your fluttering eyelids. When he releases you, you’re suddenly all too aware of the sense he’s deprived you of.

“K-Kook?” you call out with a tremble in your voice. The rhythmic pattern of his footsteps rounds the bed again, and then there’s a soft touch against your leg.

“Right here, sweet girl,” he reassures you. The bed dips by your legs as he closes in on you, still tied up and on the verge of a second orgasm that he snatched away before your very eyes; not that you can see it anymore. His hand slides over your stomach, tugs playfully at the clamps. You moan, the sensation magnified tenfold by the fact you can’t see nor anticipate his actions now.

His hands glide like two sailing boats over the broad expanse of sea that is your body, molding against your curves like waves as they go. He hums appreciatively, and you find yourself glad you can’t see him. You can’t possibly imagine with what eyes he’s looking at you now.

You bask in the glory of his attention for another beat before he retracts his touch.

And then, suddenly, something distinctly not hand-like, and weirdly soft traces over the inside of your thighs. “Kook?” you ask tentatively.

No response.

It runs over your skin in the same way his hands just did, a unique shape your brain scrambles to put a name too. It’s soft, so soft. But cold to the touch. Inanimate for sure. It’s a toy, your brain supplies belatedly, but that much you already know.

It’s heart-shaped, you realize, just as it thwacks down against your pussy.

You shriek at the suddenness of it all, thighs clamping shut. Your heart is thundering at a pace of a rabbit’s, chest rising and falling as you blindly piece together what just happened.  “Kook?” you whimper a second time, head craning back and forth in a desperate attempt to track his next move.

He’s not touching you anymore, but the bed is still dipping by your feet, so you deduce he must be there. You test your theory by sliding your foot against the sheets, lower lip trembling at the idea of him not being there.

Jungkook catches your ankle with one warm palm, slightly calloused from years of weightlifting. He raises it up, the cold air of his room hitting your exposed pussy. “You liked it,” he says, not a question but an observation. Your pussy throbs, the phantom strike against it lingering. A kiss to your ankle.

“Wh-What is it?” you cry, unconsciously pressing your leg closer to him now that you have his location. (You don’t see the soft smile on his face at your action.) Ever so slowly you let your thighs open again, now anticipating the next touch of that thing— that riding crop, you realize.

Jungkook confirms. “It’s a riding crop,” he explains, excitement curling around his words. Suddenly, it returns, this time against your stomach. He doesn’t strike you like he did before, simply lets it run across your tummy. “Heart-shaped. It’s so pretty,” he sighs dreamily. “Reminds me of you.”

You nod anxiously, stomach muscles tensed the longer it stays there. Jungkook obviously sees this, lifting it to give you the lightest of taps that still manages to make you gasp. “Cute,” he laughs, trailing it back to where it first touched down.

“Oh,” you tremble, thighs twitching as it pats tenderly over your clit. “Wai-Wait,” you warn, body arching as he runs it down, down your swollen folds. “No,” you weep, going to close your legs. But Jungkook predicts your moves, pressing your thigh down harshly against the bed.

“Shh,” he soothes, tracing the heart down your folds, pressing it flat against you. There’s a distinct lining over it that makes your hips jump, a faux-velvet covering the tip that tickles your skin. “Sit still for me.”

“No!” you gasp. Your back arches, body betraying you as it pushes your pussy against the toy. “I can’t, I can’t, Kook,” you sob, lips contracting around the gaping nothingness in your hole.

He condemns your attitude with a harsh swat of the riding crop against your cunt, tearing another high-pitched squeal from your lips. It’s followed by another against your clit that makes your body spasm. “Bad,” he chides. “Supposed to be my perfect girl.”

“I c-can’t,” you whine, the darkness over your eyes making the sensations ten times more intense. You don’t know where he or the riding crop are if they’re not directly touching you. Even then, the image is fuzzy in your head. “Need you,” you pant.

You try to reach for him, try to pull him into your arms. But you’re reminded of the cuffs holding you back, the metal digging into your skin behind you. You sob at the realization, angrily shaking your hands back and forth like maybe acting like a tantrum-throwing child will save you. It doesn’t.

Instead there’s a tug at the chain resting on your stomach, one that makes you cry out in pain when it pulls at your terribly sensitive nipples again. Jungkook uses it to pull you close, just a small inch off the bed that has you gasping for breath nonetheless.

“N-No,” you wail, nipples throbbing from all the sensations you’ve put them through tonight.

A chaste peck against your trembling lips. “Tell me how it feels,” he purrs, nose brushing against yours. Even with the tie obstructing your vision, the latest version of your boyfriend burns itself into your eyelids, force feeding you his sweaty skin and damp hair until even his breath against your face is enough to bring you to the edge.

“I-It’s scary, Kook,” you sniffle, listening for any signs of a reaction. But even if he did show one, your breathing is too loud and the ESPN channel is still blaring on screen. “Scary,” you whimper, lunging forward in a desperate move to feel the familiar brush of his tongue against yours. You miss.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks carefully, like he’s afraid he’s pushed too far.

He has. But fuck, do you love it.

“No,” you wail, lips smushed somewhere along his cheek, near his jaw and not his mouth like you wanted to. “Feels good, feels so fucking amazing,” you babble, cut off halfway through by a hiccup from your sad cries. “Wanna cum, wanna cum for you like this.”

Jungkook chuckles in relief, tilting his head until you can catch his lips with yours. It’s probably an awkward angle you assume, him adjusting for your vision-less whims, but it feels so good. It sends a shock to your pussy, his plush lips against yours. Without him telling you, you’re opening your mouth for him. “Spit on me,” you beg pitifully.

Jungkook groans, and you can almost visualize the look on his face perfectly— the tensing of his jaw, the push of his Adam’s apple, the pucker of his lips. “God, you’re disgusting,” he sighs, a fat glob of spit hitting the back of your tongue. Without your vision, you don’t see it coming, recoiling with a whiny mewl. The thin trail of saliva that follows trails across your chin when he finally reels back. You swallow greedily, wondering how soon is too soon to ask him to do it again.

With your full permission to move forward, Jungkook wastes no time trailing the riding crop over your wet folds, collecting your oozing pre-cum on the tiny heart as he roves it over your cunt. “Fuck, you can probably cum like this too, can’t you?”

You can’t answer, too caught up in the featherlight brushes. Even if you wanted to say something, one sudden strike against your pussy renders you speechless. “Mmh!” you hiss, biting down on your lip.

“Come on,” Jungkook encourages, resting a hand on your thigh. He presses the crop against you again, pushes down until the flat apex of the heart where it meets the flexible stem of the toy is pressing against your cunt hotly. He grinds it down against you, takes a sick pleasure in the pathetic way you arch up into it, rut against the little heart like it can provide even half the pleasure his hands usually would. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your body is on fire, every nerve, every sensation shooting straight to your most erogenous areas— your cunt and your nipples. Talking seems like the farthest thing from your mind right now, too caught up in the way he roughly pushes the crop against your clit. A whimper rips itself from your throat, shuddering at the sensation. Unconsciously you jerk away from him, only to be scolded with another thwack against your quivering pussy lips. “A-Ahh,” you wail, squirming beneath him like a worm that can’t sit still. “Good— it feels good, Jungkookie,” you weep.

The soft mushy pet name has him raining down two snacks against you in quick succession. “No baby names,” he warns, frown evident in his voice.

Even with you completely under him like this, shackled and blinded with your love, something unmistakably childish and obnoxious curls around your throat, has you biting down on a grin as the coil in your stomach tightens. “D-Don’t like that, Jungkookie,” you choke out hoarsely, wildly bold for someone in your position. “D-Don't like being m-my baby?”

The crop loses its position over your folds, and for a minute you’re left anxiously anticipating its next touch. 

It’s on the side of your breast, harder than the rest, combining with the already powerful pinch of the clamps. It makes you cry out painfully, stomach tightening at what is probably the most unexpected orgasm you’ve ever had. It isn’t like your usual ones that overpower you and make cum trickle out between your folds.

No, it comes in waves— literally. Your pussy spasms, pushes one splurt of cum out between your thighs, almost likes your lower lips are spitting it out. And then again, more the second time, against his mattress. He pushes your legs up to your chest to marvel at the cum coating your lips and thighs. “You’re my baby, stupid,” he hisses. He grabs at your clamps then, twisting the little chain in his hand harshly. You sob at the yank, at the way your nipples feel two seconds away from being ripped off. But you can’t even complain, because the sudden touch has your pussy clenching, before a final trickle of cum oozes out of you.

Even still, your mind babbles on. “N-No,” you choke, shaking back and forth. Despite the tie covering your eyes, they flicker like a mad man beneath it, like you’ll somehow get lucky and develop Seeing Through Fabric Ability if you try hard enough. “My, my baby,” you fight weakly, pelvis trembling from aftershocks of that orgasm. “My idiot b-boy,” you smile dazedly, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sting you’ve become familiar with by now. “T-Tell me, Jungkookie,” you croon, biting down on your lip to keep a moan from spilling out mid-syllable. “Still the same, r-right?” you stutter, “still think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

He scoffs. “No,” he vehemently denies, brashly landing an unexpected smack against your hip, no warning in sight. “That’s not true,” he defends. You can hear his pout, the little push of his lips when he grows defensive. 

You laugh, every bit the insane lunatic, fueled by your two orgasms and slipping sense of reality. “Ffffuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into nothing. “S-Say it again, baby,” you plead, tongue licking across your lips. “Tell me, tell me you don’t care about my problems, Kook-ah,” you whimper.

There’s a hesitant pause on his end, an unexpected lull in your play as he’s torn apart between doing what you want or playing it safe.

You know you’re confusing him, because you’re certainly confusing yourself. You don’t even bother trying to dissect your emotions— you’ve long since accepted your mind was a dangerous place when horny and presented with Jungkook’s sole attention. Well, you knew you were into the whole degradation bit, but this whole having-your-boyfriend-throw-the-words-that-made-you-question-your-entire-worth bit was certainly new and unexpected.

But there’s something in your heart (and in your libido) that needs this, needs him to fix this memory for you that maybe, kinda sorta, has haunted you for days, weeks now, as much as you hate to admit it. Needed him to fix the booboo he gave you with a bandaid, only leave a scar you could look back at and laugh off, not a gaping wound that opened at the slightest mention of it. Because while you forgave, you certainly never forgot*.

(*Unless forgetting meant having your boyfriend overwrite said memory that couldn’t be forgotten with the sheer power of his monster demon cock and wicked tongue. Only then could you forget.)

“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Jungkook,” you spit, feeling the hesitancy in the riding crop that brushes against your skin. It fades away quickly. “S-Say I’ve a dead-end office job; just holding you back,” you beg, trying to pretend the entirety of his little outburst hasn’t been ingrained into your mind for the last couple of weeks. Something flashes in your chest, throat closing off when the toy finally leaves your skin. “Tell me, tell me—“

He looms over you, teddy bear warmth covering the entirety of your body. “Is this what you want?” he asks seriously, lowly, breath fanning across your lips. Your makeshift blindfold feels distinctly damp over your eyes, chest heaving with an exertion that can only be emotional when he speaks so softly to you after routinely raining down brutal thwacks on you for the past half hour. “__,” he says sternly, “is this what you want?”

You gasp on a sob, unsure when these emotions had time to manifest outside your heart like this. You nod your head like a bobble head doll sitting on someone’s dashboard, lower lip trembling on a shameful cry that is not sex-induced like all the other ones until now. “I-I need this, Jungkook,” you admit, voice so tiny and soft, it almost gets drowned out by your shaky exhales and the crowd roaring on screen. “Need to overwrite it.”

He presses a soft kiss to your quivering lips, slow and so devastatingly loving. It’s nothing like the one from before where he’d spit down your throat per your request, and the unbridled adoration he packs into one simple kiss makes you crumble in his arms, sniffles piling on by the dozens.

He leans back after a moment, pulls your thigh over his forearm and finally lets you feel the hard ridges of his cock against your folds. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, trying to sound angry and annoyed, but there’s a lilting tone to his words, a love and trust you wouldn’t have been able to see with or without your blindfold, but can feel nonetheless. He pulls it off you anyway, the warm glow of the TV illuminating his face for you for the first time in about half an hour. Eyes soft, sweat trailing down his body. His body lines up against yours, but so does his heart. You feel it in the way he holds you in his arms, the way he’s careful about sinking into your folds. He slips an arm beneath your waist, uses it to hold you up so you’re not uncomfortably squishing your arms anymore. But if you ask, he’ll pretend he’s doing this for convenience sake only.

“T-Terrible fucking job,” he starts out, the stammer eluding the obvious discomfort he has saying those words, but he does it for you anyway. “Big fucking baby,” he tries again, slowly pushing past your tight walls with a shudder. “C-Can’t look away from you for two seconds because you’re such a fucking kid.”

“Worse,” you choke out. “Meaner. Please, Kook.”

He nods, holds your waist carefully when he finally bottoms out inside of you. “Dead-end office job,” he says, repeating the words that had made you want to crawl into a whole and never come out from. “Got some stupid fucking problems,” he tacks on, slowly withdrawing his hips from your heat. “Always complaining about the stupidest shit,” he hisses, fingers digging into your waist when it’s only the tip of his cock inside of you. “I don’t fucking care about it,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips into you.

They’re scrambled fragments of what he’d really said to you that night. Line after line that don’t carry a quarter of hurt or even make coherent sense for that matter. And still. 

You whimper, mind fuzzy from the thrusting pace he picks up, body fluttering at the glide of his cock against your walls. But your heart is thundering in your throat, his willingness to help fix this memory for you tightening around your every being until you can’t breathe. “I-I love you,” you cry, clenching down around him.

Jungkook groans, pulls you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his cock are tickling your skin. “Stupid, fucking child,” he groans, “immature ass nobody,” he grunts, bucking into you like your words don’t mean a thing.

“I am, I am,” you wail, suddenly hit with the cold hard truth that your body was desperately on edge. From the stimulation your nipples had gotten all night, to the ghost of the riding crop that lingered across your skin; your body was tired, so ready for a final orgasm that you’re certain Jungkook will provide. “T-Tell me y-you—“

“Shut up,” he barks, sweaty skin gliding against yours. “D-Don't tell me what to do,” he huffs, nailing you into the bed. He’s pushing you hard into the mattress, like he wants to brand you into it. “Need to fix this— alone.”

You nod numbly, the crowd behind him cheering loudly. It’s like they’re rooting for him— for the two of you —as silly as it sounds, and as bothersome as it would be any other day, today the obnoxious sounds of the ESPN soccer match only serve to fix a bad memory from before. It’s loud and cringey as all hell, but you’ll look back to this moment and laugh.

And that’s what you want most of all. You want that memory from before, that nasty fight, to go away, to disappear forever and be replaced with this one. Of him, pounding you into the sheets as his TV blares beside you, just another day, another round of sex filled with your usual kinks. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ffffuck,” you whine when the tip of his hard cock prods against your cervix. He’s going deep, he’s going all out, because he wants to fix this too. Wants to do anything to make it right, and he’ll never know how much you appreciate him for it. “S-So deep,” you whimper, hips jumping when he rams back inside.

“Stupid slut,” Jungkook snarls, tucking his head against your neck the same way he always does. “Making me do stupid shit like this,” he bites, but you know he doesn’t mean it, know he never will again. He rocks his hips into you, no longer concerned with holding you up from uncomfortably laying on your cuffed arms anymore as he pistons into your squelching heat. He’s pressed so close over you, lips brushing against your collarbone with each snap of his hips.

All the pushing and jostling about has the chain of your clamps wildly jumping about, sprawling across the planes of your chest, above your breasts, where he snatches it up between his lips again. “Stupid, fucking—“ he slurs, jutting his head to the side like a wild stallion. You sob at the tenderness of your nipples, at the way he pays them no mercy as he continues rutting into you like a mad dog in heat. “Slut,” he spits. “S-So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your mind is in another universe, and when that last word, that devastatingly familiar term, slips from his lips mindlessly, something inside you snaps. “N-No,” you sob, legs fidgeting around his waist at the orgasm that wracks through your body against your will. “No,” you cry in frustration, “didn’t, didn’t want—“

“Stupid, stupid angel,” he babbles, seemingly unaware of your orgasm as he continues fucking into your leaking cunt, ignorant of the cum that dribbles out, creams his cock as he carries on. “Fuck,” he pants, gnaws against the chain of the stupid clamps like he can’t bare this any longer. “Love you,” he says, though he’s still stuck in that mindset from before and his sweet confession sounds more like a threat. “L-Love that childish side of you,” he confesses, finally dropping the chain— much to your relief —and surging forward to kiss you on the mouth. He tastes weirdly metallic, a thought you can’t ponder too long as he continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your pussy. “Your fffucking dr-drive to succeed,” he grunts, mouth smushed uncomfortably against your cheek.

“Kook, sweetheart,” you shudder, sensitive pussy spent as he drills on. His cock is still so achingly hard, and he doesn’t seem anywhere near completion. “Take it easy,” you gently remind him, can’t brush your fingers through his hair like you usually would, so you settle for pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Fuck, fuck,” he heaves, pushing so deep you practically feel him in your womb, swollen mushroom head begging for entry. “Give me it all,” he stammers, “want you—want this forever.”

“I know you do, baby,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his when he sloppily surges forward, panting and gasping over you like a crazed caveman. “I’m yours,” you gently remind him.

“No,” he chokes out hoarsely, eyes screwed shut. “Need more, all of it,” he mumbles. “Give me yourself, ___, need you for the rest of my life—“ he cuts himself off with a shuddered whine, so airy and wispy it makes you shiver. “Ffffuck, shit,” he howls, each thrust into your walls only unraveling him more and more. “Give me, give me—“

“Anything,” you whimper, body trembling from his excessivity. “What do you want, Kook-ah?”

He says nothing, losing himself in the warmth of your pussy as his orgasm rounds the corner. He’s in the final stretch, the final straight until achieving nirvana alongside you at the finish line. And, as you’ve long since come to understand, a true Jungkook Danger Zone. He loses all sense of self, random syllables and phrases slipping through his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, marry me— marry me,” he moans, snapping his hips into you with a ferocious speed that has you bouncing against the sheets, and that’s despite the tight grip his has on you. “Let me— fuck— let me fuck a baby into you, sweetheart,” he purrs, eyes shining like an absolute psycho, but you’re apparently into that because the idea squeezes around your chest and burrows it’s way in. “A baby,” he marvels like an idiot, eyes big and sparkly, “f-fuck.”

“Wh-What?” you choke, flinching when he bites down against your lower lip. He’s got you trapped beneath him, stuffing your brain with these ideas that make your heart enter cardiac arrest, body tingling like in Mario Kart when you’ve got the star power up. “Kook—“

“Sh,” he groans, digging his fingers into your sides as he rolls his hips against you. “Almost,” he informs you, but the blood rushes to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he pants, jaw clenching, “oh, baby.”

Jungkook cums with a shivered cry, body hunching over you like some entity has just exited out of his spine. Maybe something did, because afterwards he manages to hold himself above you for exactly three seconds before dropping the entirety of his hefty muscles onto you. “Ouch,” you whine, wrists twisted uncomfortably beneath you.

“Sorry,” he huffs, completely out of breath and dazed as he rolls away from you. He ends up spread out like a starfish beside you, completely fucked out and definitely zooming through the fifth, sixth, and seventh dimensions.

He doesn’t say anything for a hot minute, chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon, until you butt in. “Kook. Undo me,” you remind him.

He looks over at you, dark hair falling over his eyes and sprawling around his head like a halo. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “Oh,” he says, like his brain has just processed the information. “Right.” He sits up, tucking himself back into the shorts he never fully took off. That was his character flaw; never bothers to get completely naked during sex. Anyway, his straight male-equivalent of booty shorts come up around his thighs again, stretching sinfully across the thick muscles.

The five sonnet poem that was gearing up in your head comes to a halt when he touches your breast. “No, no more,” you cry, instinctively withering away.

Jungkook snorts. “I’m just taking them off, baby,” he says, reaching forward again with the same practiced ease you’d use on an animal. The clamps come off, all the nerves suddenly coming back to life. It’s a weird sensation, not having your tits subject to that prickling pain anymore, and it makes you moan softly. Jungkook soothes you with his wannabe masseuse hands, but you think it’s just an excuse for him to fondle your breasts.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks gently, hovering over you like a damned surgeon or something. His voice is so silky and smooth, hands soft against your chest. He’s so careful in the way he turns you over, somehow magically producing the tiny key pick you swore was lost between the sheets after its first use.

Being on your chest makes you tremble like a leaf, the faintest brush of the cotton against your tits enough to make your pussy clench weakly. “ I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, carefully detailing his actions like you’re not watching him with your very own eyes. But it’s oddly comforting, having him walk you through the process of rolling your sore wrists. The inside of the cuffs had a plush lining, but it was a pretty cheap thing. After he’s done massaging the skin, he pads over to his dresser and returns with a shirt and undies for you. “Shirt,” he says, helping you into the clothing.

When you’re all snuggled under the sheets again, the television still loud as hell, he mumbles, “wanna talk about it?”

You exhale against his chest, feeling so light and fluttery from your orgasms and the way he runs his fingers through your scalp and the way his heart thunders by your ear. “Hm,” you hum pensively. “Nah. Think I’m fine now,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles. “A full miracle recovery?” he teases. You nod, taking in the comforting scent of his fabric softener and just him in his entirety.

“Yep.” A beat of silence, the commentator is back to filling the space between you two. He talks about a mile minute, spewing stats and plays you could never understand in a thousand years. But you know Jungkook will get sucked in soon enough, so you strike while the pot is hot. “Do you wanna talk?”

He cranes his neck a little to look at you. “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to look at him straight on. “Oh, my mistake,” you drawl. “I seem to have missed the part where we were going to act like you didn’t just ask for my hand in marriage and then offered to get me pregnant—,” you pause, the realization suddenly hitting you like a trash can whipping down a hill on a rainy day at a thousand miles per hour. “Pregnant!” you exclaim, cheeks warm at the fact he really just said that to you.

Jungkook’s cheeks fare no better, a Flaming Hot Cheeto shade dusting his skin. “I, it was just…” he tries, poor tiny monkey brain working overtime to offer an excuse. “It-it doesn’t have to be a thing,” he blushes, big Bambi eyes flickering from you to the television to the heart-tipped riding crop by the foot of the bed. “I was just…”

You raise your brows. “Consumed by the spirit of King Henry IV to have fourteen kids?”

He blinks. “Wait, you actually paid attention to that film?”

“That’s not the point!” you exclaim, shifting onto your knees in front of him. “What,” you inhale sharply, heart beating wildly in your chest, “what was that?”

Jungkook can only play the shocked angel card for so long before he’s sinking back into his pillow stack with the sigh of a man who’s worked in construction for the last sixty-four years. “I just,” he mumbles, “I think about it sometimes.” His admission makes your heart lodge itself into your throat, wide eyes watching him spill out his heart to you.

He misreads the expression on your face. “I-Not now!” he hurries to explain. “Like,” he stammers, rosy hue slowly crawling down his neck, over his ears. “Maybe, y’know? In the future…”

You blink, brain reduced to a series of beeps and clicks like that of an old computer trying to compute information that is simply not processing. “Yeah…” you murmur, unsure of what to do with the film reel that suddenly flashes before your eyes, a look into a doorway you had never considered before. “I— me too.”

Jungkook chokes on his own saliva. “Really?” he yelps, has those sparkly anime girl eyes you always tease him about.

The gulp you do sounds loud in your ears. “Yeah,” you breathe, throat drier than the desert, but more confident than the first peabrain response. “I-I’d like that.”

There’s a bright beam of light that shines right in your face, so vibrant and dazzling it makes you flinch and by the time you’ve recovered you realize it’s his smile. “Yeah?” Jungkook mumbles back, pearly teeth framed by his pretty smile, brows raised at your stuttery confirmation. You nod. His lips twist into a smaller grin, a condensed version of the superstar one he gave you just moments before. Before you can brush it off with a joke, he’s snatching your hand up in his, a soft smooch pressed to your knuckles. “Okay,” he says quietly, dark eyes meeting yours. “One day?”

Your heart constricts in your chest, and all you can do is nod. “One da—“

“Goooooaaaaallllll!” the announcer on screen shrieks, the loud sounds of the TV killing your mood instantly.

Any dumbstruck, love struck, idiotic, ditzy expression on your face is wiped clean, replaced with an unimpressed glare you narrow on him. His nose is scrunched up like he wants to laugh, lips pressed into a thin line at your annoyance. He swipes the TV remote off the side table, arms spread open for you to crawl back into. You do so with a huff, pout smushed against the front of his hoodie.

“That’s enough ESPN for today,” he chuckles, switching the channel about a thousand times until Rick and Morty is playing on screen. “I’ll just watch the highlights later.”

“ESPN,” you scoff like an evil villain in a movie who’s just been presented with their mortal enemy, fisting the front of his hoodie.

Jungkook nods. “ESPN,” he repeats. A beat passes. “Kinda like BDS—“

“Go get your ice pack.”

epilogue

Because Jungkook couldn’t sit still for that one eventful night following his ladder injury, he ends up in a medical boot for one week, loudly clunking around the place like a reverse pirate. You snap a picture of him that you post on Twitter for your twelve followers to see, just him pouting at the doctor’s office with his new boot and club jersey on to celebrate last night’s victory.

It’s just a cute pic for you and your friends to laugh at.

Until it’s not, and his handsome face is circulating around the entire internet.

He’s being called the Face of FC Seoul, with desperate women messaging you left and right for his information. Other fans are bragging about the beauty that is an FC Seoul fanboy. It gets to the point where his face appears on the next night’s ESPN Nightly Recap, a special on social media stars posting about the game. Except Jungkook is neither a social media star nor did he even post about the game— you did.

But there he is, all five feet and ten inches of him smiling brightly at you from the ESPN Sports channel, wearing the boot he got from hand cuffing and whipping you to completion. 

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 15

WARNING: Mature scenes ahead!!! ;)

A/N: Future u, i hope ur ok

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The moonlight glimmered among the stars in the now pitch-black skies, fighting off against the bright lights hanging from above the tent. Bucky's digression to topics regarding his real family (or lack thereof, I think) never wore off, clearly avoiding talking about, dare you say, "the real stuff." But the classic "favorites" section of a date was indeed a delight. You had already covered favorite films (his was The Truman Show, while yours was Forrest Gump; but you also talked about other films that you both shared a liking to — Pulp Fiction, Me, Myself & Irene, Dead Poets Society, The Godfather, the Harry Potter series, Inception, and of course, any films that star the legendary Tom Hanks), favorite music to listen to (you both loved vintage rock and roll), and so much more favorites and would you rather and what ifs and if you weres. But you mostly talked about films — an in-depth discourse on their themes, writing, and cinematography (things you never thought you'd be able to talk about with anyone).

"Have you ever thought about shooting films?" Bucky asked.

You were now lying down on the blanket-covered ground, bodies upside down-like: your forehead aligned with his chin, and his chin aligned with your forehead, as if characters from The Fault In Our Stars.

"I did." You replied. "But I wanted to focus more on photography."

"Why?"

You turned your head, your breath fanning the side of his face. "There's something about the stillness of moving things, of people around me, beautiful people that strikes me as fascinating."

He hummed, closing his eyes. He was saying something, about how art, in all kinds of medium, connected people from all walks of life, how the beauty of it all can be different to each, and how he wished he could make one of his own: to give life to a canvas, to freeze a moment in time, to put his thoughts in pen and paper, and to embody a character different from his. At some point, you could feel him peeling down all his layers but then he stopped talking.

You respected the silence between you and took your sweet time studying his face. The wrinkles on his forehead looked like ridges of sand, ridges people would like to walk on for days, ridges that held untold stories of — perhaps — heartache, failure, and pain. His closed eyelids looked like a sleeping moon, gleaming. Almost touching his cheeks were his long, curved eyelashes. Then, my eyes trailed down to his nose, dotted with freckles, his nostrils releasing small puffs of air; then down to his mouth, slightly agape, and then down to the stubbles on the sides of his face. There was a small scar, almost concealed by where his beard started to grow.

You turned your body sideways, tracing the scar with your finger.

Bucky's body tensed under your touch.

"What happened to this fella?" You whispered, tracing the small scar.

He soon let himself relax, opening his eyes. "Car accident." He replied. "But I don't remember much of it. I don't know where it happened, or how it happened or if I hit something or worse, someone. But Tony told me he took care of everything. I haven't been behind the wheel since then. I fear history will repeat itself."

Then, you remembered all the times you've been in a vehicle with Bucky. Not once was he driving. "How old were you?"

"Nineteen? Twenty? I really don't know." He sighed, closing his eyes once again. It was the first time Bucky told you something so real — a fear, something personal, something close to home. "Hey, y/n?"

"Yes, Bucky?"

"Can you kiss it and make it feel better?"

You giggled, poking the scar. "You've got to be kidding me."

He pouted, his eyes still closed. "Please?"

You sighed, feigning exasperation. "Fine." You planted a soft kiss on the scar, your lower lip catching the rough edges of his beard.

"I'm still not feeling better."

"Oh Bucky, you are such a child." You laughed, giving it another kiss, and then another, and then another and then another, until rough edges turned into the soft textures of his lips. With lips entangled in an unusual position, you brought myself onto your knees, and positioned yourself on top of him — knees on each side of his hips, crotch pressed against his, hands on his jaws, lips on his lips, tongue inside of his mouth.

His hands found your neck, then up your jaws, cupping your face and pulling it closer to his. He then started to rake the roots of your hair, tugging it lightly, making a moan escape your lips. You felt one corner of his mouth turn a bit upward at the sound. He tugged your hair tighter and harder until your lips left his with your head pulled backwards, leaving your bare neck exposed.

Without any hesitation, his mouth moved onto neck. Gratified by the series of moans coming out of your mouth, he sucked deeper into your skin, biting every inch of your neck, making sure to leave damn marks. On impulse, you moved your hips against his, grinding his clothed crotch. Bucky groaned against your skin, his hot breath fanning your neck. You could feel your own wetness in between your thighs as you moved your hips more, Bucky's bulge growing under you getting bigger and bigger. The sensation left you breathless.

And you needed more.

You broke away from his grasp, returning the favor. You kissed him on the lips and moved your way towards his earlobes in which Bucky very much liked; so much that he thrusted his hips upwards, slamming loud onto yours.

"Oh, fuck." You moaned, moving your way towards his neck.

Bucky's hands immediately flew under your shirt. His cold hands making contact with your skin, sending you shivers.

"Wait." He said, pulling away from you. "Is this okay? Are you okay with this?"

You giggled and nodded, kissing him on the mouth to give him permission.

He cut the kiss short. "I'm sorry, but we live in a litigious society so I'm gonna need a verbal reply from you, especially that you're years younger than me."

You chuckled. "Yes, Mr. Barnes. You have my full consent."

He smirked. "Keep calling me that and I'll give you my full consent."

"Shut up already, Mr. Barnes."

He lifted the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing a cotton white bra.

You bit your lip. "If you'd told me about the date, I would've worn a much better one."

"I don't mind." He breathed, sitting up. "I like white on you." He traced the lining of the bra with his finger, together with his eyes. He licked his lower lip before planting a kiss between your breasts. "So pure. Innocent."

"Innocent is not the word to describe me." You smirked. "Remember what I told you before?"

"Hmm, I seem to have forgotten." He teased. "What was it again?"

"I'm a devil on the sheets, Bucky."

"Then show it to me, doll." He purred.

As soon as those words left his mouth, all the worries and fear you talked about with Nat all washed away. And like always, she was again, right.

It was exactly like riding a bicycle.

And you were ready to be in control, in control of a man your senior, and to unleash something inside you you've never seen in quite a while.

You grabbed Bucky's face and kissed him on the mouth while pulling his shirt over his head. Every inch of his naked sculpted upper body glistened under the lights, like dewy grass under the sun.

You kissed his collarbones, shoulders, and chest. Before you could even move on to his tummy, a strong force came, flipping your body, your back hitting the blanket-covered ground.

"But not before I show it to you first." He growled, reaching something from above. He closed the front of the tent, pulling something from above. Within a second, the lights above went dim. The only light you now had was the moonlight.

You liked it this way. Darkness made you feel safe — but it was the kind of darkness with a sliver of light and Bucky was it. The inside of the tent grew hotter, making your body sweat, or perhaps it was just the sexual heat between you and Bucky as Bucky removed your pants, as well as his, leaving you in just your undergarments.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing up against him, making him feel that you were already dripping for him, that you wanted him.

He moaned inside your mouth as you grinded against each other. His teeth pulled your bra down. With your bare chest exposed, you usually had the instinct to cover them up because they were small for people's taste but you didn't do that with Bucky. He admired them with his eyes, and admired them more with his lips wrapped around your nipples, pulling each of them softly. He then left fluttered kisses on your breasts before moving down to your belly, kissing every curve, every wave fold there ever was, and every stretch mark he came across upon.

His mouth stopped right on the folds of your lower belly, his fingers making their way on your wet cotton panties. His lips went back to yours while his fingers were circling all around you, clothed, making you wetter each second. Then, he slipped your panties aside, taking no time at all in inserting a finger inside.

A moan escaped your lips, opening your mouth more, giving access to Bucky's tongue. With another finger slipping inside, you bit Bucky's lower lip, pulled it away from him. He watched you gasp for air, listened to each moan, and felt you deep inside as he continued to thrust his fingers in you.

"You're quite tight, doll." He said. "I'm going for another to ease you up, okay?"

You nodded then whimpered as soon as a third finger made its way inside. Because you were, in his own words, quite tight, Bucky had a bit of a difficult time moving inside. He pulled away after a few moments, giving you time to catch your breath. He folded your knees, and held your legs in place using his veiny hands. He left a trail of soft kisses on your inner thighs, his teeth grazing on your skin every once in a while. You watched him inched forward, nearing your core. You watched him take delight in each mark he imprinted.

He hooked his thumbs on your panties and slowly slid them down your legs. On his knees, he ravished your body with his eyes, then your face. He leaned down, kissing you

"Beautiful." He mumbled in the kiss.

He soon devoured your pussy, his tongue moving up and down your folds, his upper lip nibbling your clit. You closed your yes, threw your head back and raked his hair with your fingers, guiding his mouth deeper. With his mouth still exploring every bit of you, he inserted two fingers inside. You whimpered at the sensation of both his tongue flicking your clit, and his fingers fucking you.

You moaned louder, arching your back, rolling your eyes at the back of your head. You badly wanted to see him, to watch him greedily eat you but his mouth and fingers felt so good that you couldn't even keep your eyes open. The more you tried to, the faster his mouth and fingers moved. It made your legs tremble under his touch, your thighs pressing closer and closer to his ears, which he didn't like as he kept spreading your legs wider with his other hand.

"Bu-Bucky, please." You gasped. "I'm gonna cum."

"No. Not yet."

With that, he released his mouth and fingers, leaving you suspended in ecstasy. You opened your eyes, seeing Bucky on top of you, his face studying you. Then, he brought his fingers — the same ones that were just inside you — to his mouth, licking them. Now, you really did wish you could've kept your eyes open the whole time.

"You taste good, doll." He said, giving you his fingers.

You opened your mouth and reached for his fingers, sliding up and down, the taste of you sitting on your tongue. You could feel Bucky weaken above you as you continued to suck his fingers. Your right hand moved to his boxers, stroking his clothed hard-on. His eyelids quivered for a moment, losing touch of his dominance. You kissed his fingers one last time and flipped him over, not wasting any damn time taking his boxers off.

He sprung up in front of you. He was big (the biggest you've encountered), and was throbbing under your touch. He was hot, and a little bit wet. You looked at him while you pumped him slowly, then kissed him, returning the pleasure. A breath escaped his mouth as your pace went faster, and faster. His body became weaker under you, his lips agape, surrendering to submission, to your dominance.

Bucky felt so fragile underneath you, not being able to regain the control he once had. He wanted this. He wanted you to show him how much of a devil you were.

You pulled away from his mouth and moved lower on his body, his large, throbbing dick between your eyes. You kissed the top, making his legs quiver. You soon took him in — all of him, which made Bucky grab your head, pull your hair, and guide you all the way. You looked at him as you worked him all the way up, then down, then up and down: his mouth was kept open, a series of moans coming out, and at the same time, gasping for air; instead of eyes closed, his eyes were wide open, looking at the unlit lights above him.

Usually, giving head to people wasn't at all satisfying to you. What would it give you, anyway? It was either forced, or just because they told you to suck them. But with Bucky, you didn't even hesitate on doing so. It wasn't an itch you were trying to scratch away. It was on impulse, an instinct, a desire you wanted. And seeing Bucky in this state gave you so much pleasure.

So much.

Bucky let out the loudest moan, sitting up straight, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath.

"I need you." He rasped. "Now."

You nodded, satisfied with what you received on his end. You straddled him, grinded on his bare dick, and glazed it with your wetness. He groaned, guiding your hips with his one hand, the other on the ground, keeping himself straight up.

"Don't worry. I'm on the pill." you whispered.

"I thought it's been over a year since you — "

"It's for acne, dumbass." You chuckled. "You can cum inside me if you want. You have my full consent."

"Good."

You held onto his broad shoulders as you lowered myself onto him and within a second, you felt his tip inside.

You bit your lip as you inched yourself lower. With his whole inside you, you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, and let out a small whimper.

"Are you okay?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded and placed a kiss on his neck, reassuring him.

You moved your body up and down, biting your lip to keep small cries from coming out, but soon enough, you were taking in pleasure within pain until all there was was pleasure.

Sweet, sweet pleasure.

You bounced on top of him faster, — god, he felt so big and so good in you — skin slapping on skin, echoing against the thin sheets, with his lips on yours, then on your neck, then on your breasts; his hands on your jaw, on your neck, your breasts (sometimes, together with his lips), on the small of your back, on your hips, then on your ass.

"Oh god, you feel so fucking good." Bucky said, kissing your skin as you kept on bouncing on top of him. "But it's my turn, babydoll."

You moaned at the nickname, making your body frail to move and then the next thing you knew, you were flipped over, with Bucky on his knees, thrusting faster, then deeper as he inched forward, your chests pressed together. Your fingers clawed on his back, his hot breath on your neck, your breath on his ear where he could hear you moaning his name.

"That's right." He whispered, kissing your neck. "Say my name."

You wrapped your legs around his waist (a kind of intimacy you had never done before), and with it, pulled him closer, deeper, giving you an astounding pleasure, making your whole body tremble under him, getting you higher and higher on staggering ecstasy, and sending you over your edge.

You cried out his name one last time, feeling your white juices come on his dick, mixed with his inside you.

"My god," he whispered, "I think I could never get enough of you."

"You just read my mind, Mr. Barnes."

"Hey, I feel a whole lot better now." He winked.

You chuckled.

You caught each others' breaths, kissing one last time before he removed himself from you, and laid down beside you where he wrapped his arms and legs around you, your head on his chest. You weren't the one to cuddle but at that moment, your body, frail and vulnerable, gave in. You didn't want to fight it, anyway. You were both surrounded with each others' pool of sweat but it didn't matter.

You were bathing in bliss.

In this bliss he had given you.

"You're not gonna kick me out the next morning, are you?" You asked, half-joking, scared that you'd be in the same position as that of the woman from before.

"No, doll." He replied, "you have my word," then kissed your forehead.

Bucky pulled you closer, his chin on top of your head. You listened to his heartbeat slow down every five seconds, giving you a rhythm you soon fell asleep to.

[reversecreek]

✵ zloane , bravier , nyla and sean

ZIGGY & SLOANE

their first impression of your muse:

sexy. tugged on her hair literally the first time he saw her hadn’t even had a conversation bt was just like target? located. going? ✈️ annoy her. probably initially just thought she was only at the skate park bc sean was n was like 🙄 then she cld actually skate n he was like 😏 liked that she gave him shit. found it funny pushing her buttons. liked her eyes. probably was like wtf is in the fuckin water in this town yo why all my friends got hot sisters that shit aint right tryna make me a dog....... not that he was even. phased by betraying those boundaries bt. still. i won’t lie his main first impression was probably jst damn bit hot when she glares at me like that. KJHFSGKSJHGKGHSFKGH

current impression:  

knows her a little more than he likes to know people. favourite person to argue w. can possibly skate better than him bt if she said so he’d be like “ur off ur fuckin tits man” n then practice secretly on his own for hours that night n get 9457295 scrapes. doesn’t like talking abt her dad like him so one time he put a firework in his mailbox n never admitted it was him. has reactions to youtube videos tht make him snort. quite funny in general rly. drinks a lot not that he can judge it’s just sometimes he notices n once he even snatched her cup n drank the rest so she couldn’t. played it off as their typical fuckery bt he isn’t sure what that feeling was. hasn’t been concerned often enough to know it by name. finds her hot at inappropriate moments like when a movie chara’s dying n he’s meant to be sad. finds her hot when she pisses him off too. thinks mayb she likes the excuse to hold onto him when she rides on his vespa but he kind of likes it too so he’s not about to call it out bc “he isn’t about that deep shit”. 

are they attracted to your muse?:  

KFJHGKJGHFGKFHSGKSHGKSFGH. imagine i was jst like no <3... yes. he likes to act like he’s less so than he is bt it’s obvious.

something they find frightening about your muse:

i wouldn’t say it frightens him bt sometimes he catches her looking at him a certain way n it unsettles him but he doesn’t know why. usually just pretends he didn’t catch it.

something they find adorable about your muse:  

he likes her short hair he’s always ruffling it n tugging on it. whenever she hs bumps n scrapes n bruises from falling off her board n getting back on over n over again jst never giving up or giving a fk. when she acts like she isn’t jealous.

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  

umm. no. he’s an asshole. KGJSHFKGHSKFHGSKFGHKGH. sighs.

would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  

no..... sees that as dangerous territory wouldn’t wna blur the lines. looks away.

one word my muse would use to describe yours:  

baddie. FKGJHSKGHFGSFHGSKGHSFKHG. demonic (when they’ve had a fight). 

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no. he loves to argue w her but it never feels that Real u know... more like flirting. even when they’re rly pissed off. wld never enter that territory he hates shit like tht w a passion. cue round of applause from the audience for this absolutely low bar.

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

i feel like they’re not rly huggy people...... ziggy probably puts his arm around her a lot tho he loves doing that. hs kissed her more times than he can count too n doesn’t plan on stopping

BRADLEY & XAVIER

their first impression of your muse:

funny. mean in a more digestible way than she was used to. he had barbs n she liked the way people winced when they tried to swallow his company. when she got paired w him for a class project she met his eyes across the room n he didn’t quickly look away like most ppl. something abt that intrigued her. a sharp fingernail inside her head kept having to itch at something n she realised it was the urge for him to call her a bad name. this weird craving to hear an angry word inside his mouth just for her. she used to think that’s what someone wanting her was like. still does sometimes. this both pissed her off n caught her attention which is a bit of an accomplishment fr someone who gets bored by everyone n everything.

current impression:  

his heart’s more good than she expected. it felt a bit like having a cat drop a dead mouse at ur doorstep that u don’t know what to do with when she realised that. she felt uncomfortably like her mother when she couldn’t get out of his bed bc she was too depressed n that rly made her feel like. ill honestly. he did all the right things but suddenly she just felt sick abt the whole situation which is Not the normal reaction to ur bf caring about u but bradley doesn’t understand ppl caring abt her. felt more like pity. she thinks he’s better off. she misses him sometimes bt then she reminds herself she doesn’t miss people. does a good job of believing it. one of the best ppl she’s dated not that she’d say it.

are they attracted to your muse?:  

yes..... ws probably. unhinged n rabid when they were dating. very good at hiding it now however. cold at the drop of a hat.

something they find frightening about your muse:

that he witnessed her being vulnerable............ literally grosses her out so much like she’d rather die than. anyone see her like that. when they were dating she’d get paranoid her dad wld somehow find out too n smthn wld happen to him for it. it ws definitely weird for her like the fact she even cared enough to consider tht.

something they find adorable about your muse:  

adorable is rly not a word that fits into bradley’s vocabulary GHSFGHSFKGHSFKG bt hm. maybe if he ever tried to tell her what to do one time even casually. she’d b like awww..... u think i do what anyone tells me? that’s so fucking sweet. 

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  

in most cases no :/..... however if it was smthn to do w the guys that work for her dad then ya she’d put herself in danger to avoid him being in it.

would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  

i mean she has in the past bt bradley’s idea of dates is like. starting a bar fight together. getting thrown out of a club n both falling over into trash cans in a dingy back alley. stealing a car. breaking into a random house n fking in a stranger’s bed. fking in the bk of a movie theatre w a horror movie screening. definitely not dinner or anything like tht. she wldn’t now........ they’re not exactly in a place fr that..... 

one word my muse would use to describe yours:  

ex. whatever. i know it’s not one word but “some guy”. FGHSKGHFGKSHG >_>

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no. she’s a violent person bt not xavier.

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

NO hugging...................... she fronts like she wldn’t kiss him bt like. if a discussion got heated n they were in each other’s faces who’s to say. 

NYLA & SEAN

their first impression of your muse:

strange little fella which is a very high compliment. kind of reminded them of an animated turtle come to life in the human realm altho they honestly don’t have an explanation for that it’s just the way their brain works. they love the turtles in finding nemo tho so maybe there’s some sort of correlation. very nice face. they kind of wanted to hold his head like a bowling ball just so they could examine it properly. i feel like when they first met him they probably reached out n smoothed a sticky label onto his forehead that said ‘catfish in chernobyl’ n they had one on their forehead that was blank n then they just wafted a pen mid air n were like ‘wanna play guesses?’ even tho that isn’t the name of the game. as if that was just. a completely normal introduction to someone. FGKHSKHGSFKGHSFKG. feel like sean wld have rolled w that tho so nyla was like :P i like.... if they played another round they’d give sean another sticky label that said ‘the loneliest whale in the world’ n then it’d start a whole conversation abt how nyla thinks they can speak whaleish. (whale spin on elvish). 

current impression:  

sean makes them think of that artificial blue raspberry flavour some popsicles have n how it’s always rly fun when they stain ur tongue. sweet n exuberant n leaves a bright impression. he lets them ride on his skateboard sometimes rolling along being lead by them holding his hand n nyla likes to shut their eyes like they’re a bird sailing above the clouds. one of their favourite things to do especially when the sun’s out. bc of this nyla thinks sean was a bird in his past life but not a greedy one like a seagull or a plain one like a pigeon. maybe a bluebird bc of his eyes. he makes them laugh a lot. they entrusted him to babysit their children (as pictured) in his hair for a whole day and night once n they had lots of fun with him so nyla thinks he’s very trustworthy and kind. he also is rly easy to talk to like they cld randomly be like “i’ve been thinking lately that maybe homer simpson could’ve been a good figure skater” n sean wldn’t look at them like they’ve lost their marbles he’d just go w it. they like his company a lot.

are they attracted to your muse?:  

😏

something they find frightening about your muse:

ummm nothing in particular altho one time when they were rly tripping out bc his eyes are blue n it got them thinking abt the ocean n they always think they can talk to ghosts underwater so they were kind of like. thinking abt ghosts whenever they looked him in the eyes. maybe covered their own w their hands n if sean asked why they told him abt it. suddenly he shut his eyes to make them feel better n it turned into a whole thing where nyla had to lead him around the party like a guide dog.

something they find adorable about your muse:  

his nose. watching him talk to his siblings. his hands.

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  

😌 yea

would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  

yes............ feel like they’d have fun if they went anywhere tbh........ cn imagine them at a fair eating from the same cotton candy n chattering as they point out things. nyla trying to do that hammer game where u make the meter reach the top n lifting the hammer in the air n falling backwards bc it was heavier than they anticipated.... sean yelling like man down man down..... mayb they take a tab n suddenly the fair is so scary they’re like 😳 we’re in danger...

one word my muse would use to describe yours:  

silly (affectionate). sailor (also term of endearment). gnome (same thing again). cool.

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no ur sick....

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

ya to both. jst suddenly had a vision too of nyla being cold one time n clinging to sean from the front like a bushbaby in a hug as he carries her around. suddenly this mode of transportation hs happened more thn once (godmod) (contact my lawyers if u dare bebe) (bitch) (i take it back) (it wasn’t right alli it jst wasn’t right) (pelase forigev m eim shakign)

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

hey if ur taking requests for writing...., what abt angsty among us idea- reports a body and like.. engie attends and it turns out medic was killed? and then hes heartbroken and really sad and angry at spy for killing medic? obviously u dont have to do this but the among au had me thinking about a ton of angsty scenarios lol. have a good day!!

i'm always takin requests! it may take me a while to get there but i will try my damndest to get it done at some point!

i actually had part of this in my drafts when you originally sent this ask but it's been reason enough to finish it, i think. i hope you like it, even if it's a bit messy :>

-

Per Aspera Ad Astra

In which an imposter experiences the loss of someone he loved and wasn't supposed to.

-

As Dell heard the emergency meeting alarm blare over the intercom and red lights flashed overhead, he looked up from the mass of wires he'd agreed to rearrange for Medic, furrowing his brow.

Odd. Spy hadn't made it clear to him that he was going to attempt anything that day and he knew for a fact that he himself hadn't made any sabotages since last week.

Then again, he'd noticed that this crew in particular had no qualms against using the emergency meeting button for more trivial things. Someone probably just wanted to get everyone's attention to look at some weird space bug that hitchhiked from their last stop on Pollus a few weeks ago or something along those lines. Standard procedure at that point.

He packed up the wires he'd been holding back into their panel before making his way out of electrical and towards the cafeteria, readjusting his goggles over his eyes to make sure nobody would find him out.

When he'd arrived, he could practically physically feel the shift in attitude of the rest of the crew since that morning, mentally noting that Medic was currently the only one of them missing.

"Tex, there you are. You uh. Might want to sit down for this one, lad," Demo said gravely, all the other crewmates' mumbling amongst each other dying down instantly as Spy stood to the side of the table, having said nothing ever since he himeself had arrived.

"Uhm. Sure, ok. Shouldn't we wait for Doc first, though? If it's actually important he should probably be here," He said, a confused smile coming to his face. Demo physcially winced.

"See, that's the thing, it's. It's Doc, he's..." Demo trailed off, Sniper moving to put a hand on his shoulder.

"He's?..." Engie frowned, having to take a moment before he realized what he'd meant.

It took another moment for the dread to set in.

"No. No, that- that's impossible, I- I just saw him like 30 minutes ago. I agreed to do one of his tasks for him while he finished cleaning the medbay so we could finish up for the day," He stuttered, looking anxiously between all the other faces at the table. None of them could meet his gaze even through his goggles, Spy in particular insisting on staring out the large window that peered into the vastness of space around them instead.

...Spy.

Spy said he wouldn't touch him- said he'd let him find a way to deal with all of this effectively and without having to kill this particular crew. Especially Medic. He said- no, he promised he wouldn't.

Engie's anger soon started bubbling inside of him, tightly clenching his fists that he oh so desperately wanted to sucker punch a certain other imposter in the face with. But then came the second realization of what he'd done and he felt his arms go slack again.

Medic was dead.

"...Where is he?" He finally whispered out, somewhere between heartbroken and seething.

"Medbay. Demo, Sniper, and I called for the meeting as quick as we could and did not get the chance to move his. Corpse," Soldier said, standing up straight and visibly uneasy at the mentioning of Medic's dead body.

Engie slowly nodded.

"Ok. Did you fellas, uh. Did- did you contact Pollus yet?"

"Not yet. I was gonna after the meetin's over. 's gonna take us a while to get there tho, at least 2 weeks," Scout said.

"I see. Did you three uh. Did you see anything?" Engie asked Demo, Sniper, and Soldier, all of them shaking their heads.

"Pyro, Heavy, 'n Scout were on comms because they were finished with tasks already and all three of 'em say they didn't see anyone go into Medbay after you left."

"...what about you, Spy? Been awfully quiet the entire time. And you don't have an alibi," Scout squinted. Spy scoffed.

"I was also finished with tasks, I've been in my quarters for at least 2 hours. You can even roll back footage on the cameras."

Pyro pressed a button on their suit, the small speaker on their chest panel letting out a soft 'kshh'.

"...he does have a point. Cams don't lie."

"What if he used the vents, though?"

"You really think this pansy's gettin' in any vents?"

"...Aight, fair point."

"I do not think we have enough information to make decision," Heavy sighed, every looking to each other in a vague sense of agreement.

"Skip vote, then?"

"Yeah, I think that's for the best."

"Alright lads, be on alert, then. If you see anythin' suspicious, y' know where the button is," Demo sighed, patting the plastic cover that protected the emergency meeting button.

Everyone mumbled out affirmations before getting up to head out, Pyro staying behind to raise their hand.

"Ay, what is it, Py?"

Kshh. "...who's taking care of uh. Y'know. The body."

Engie squeezed his eyes shut briefly.

"I'll do it."

"Tex, no, we couldn't ask you t-"

"Demo, it's fine. I'm not a child, you don't need to baby me. I can deal with it."

"If you're so sure..."

"It's fine. Really. You go make sure everyone else is doin' ok, lord knows they'd need it," Engie smiled softly, giving Demo a pat on the arm.

Demo's eyes still showed worry but he nodded, reciprocating the gesture before hurrying into the direction of nav where everyone else went.

Spy turned to leave but Engie stopped him, shifting his goggles back to his forehead.

"...Why did you do it?" He asked softly. He could've sworn that he saw the slightest break of stoicism on Spy's face but perhaps it was just the awful fluorescent lighting of the cafeteria playing tricks on him.

"You were taking too long. It was getting risky for us to be here. I thought it better to end it sooner rather than later," He said, any trace of emotion leaving as quickly as it came as he turned his head. Engie had no response.

"Remember what they did to us. To you. Just because one treated you kindly does not mean others will."

Silence.

"...Don't sabotage anything tonight. They'll get suspicious. Be prepared to leave this ship in a week's time, without the Medic they'll fall apart. Do I make myself clear?"

Still nothing. Spy frowned.

"I said, do I make myself clear, Dell?" He asked again, not even bothering to mask the threatening tone in his voice this time.

Engie squeezed his eyes shut again.

"...Yes. Yes, you do."

"Very well. I will see you in the morning," He said, moving so that Engie's hand no longer rested on his shoulder and starting to make his way to hallway that led to crew's personal quarters.

Spy paused to look back, a feeling that could almost be described as pity overcoming him. He sighed.

"...Get over it. You only knew him for less than 8 months, anyways," He said softly before leaving Engie alone, footsteps echoing against the metal floors of the ship.

When he felt he was ready, Engie made his way to the Medbay with full expectations of what he would find there.

He just. Didn't expect it to hurt so much.

Medic's body lay on the floor in between the scanner and the large computer it was attached to, his normally bright cyan suit soaked in red and a sizable gash made into his back. There was a broken test tube that had fallen out of his hand a little ways away and one of the lensed of his glasses had been cracked, most likely from the impact of falling onto the floor.

Engie took in a deep breath before carefully sitting him up against the nearest wall, preparing himself to find something to clean up the blood that hadn't managed to be absorbed into his space suit.

He wasn't used to Medic being so.. quiet. Lifeless, if you would. He couldn't remember a single time he'd felt a pain in his chest as intense as this.

It was then that his anger suddenly came back, barely being able to contain himself before he turned around and ended up making a decently large crack in the monitor.

He tried to control the emotions that came flooding after, tried to keep himself from feeling this way over this one human when he'd aided the destruction of countless others, but when he felt himself shaking, he fell to his knees, a sob escaping him.

He shouldn't have gotten attached. He shouldn't have, it wasn't like him- like an imposter to get attached, and yet here he was, crying on the Medbay floor as blood soaked into his already red suit and glass shards clinked against the desk as they fell off piece by piece.

Serves him right for believing in humans, he guesses. Serves him right for having the audacity to care.

...what a stupid decision, that was.

[recklessrex]

The prompt: 14 using Scar and Persi (it doesn't need to be canonically with ur fic, to avoid spoilers, I'm just curious to see them on different situations :]

“Can you explain why my phone is up there?”

The first thing Persimmian was aware of was that the sky was a rather pleasant shade of bright blue. A couple of puffy clouds here and there. Very pretty.

The second thing she was aware of was the warm, familiar weight at her side, tucked under her right arm. A quick instinctual mental assessment (thin, tall, scruffy fur, on the right he's always on the right) instantaneously identified it as her best friend Scaramouche.

The third thing she was aware of was that her left side was cold. No warm, familiar weight.

"Scar…"

The warm, familiar weight on her right shifted and settled. She wiggled her shoulder to nudge him awake.

"Scar."

"Hh?"

"Where's Crash?"

That got Scar's attention. He lifted his head. Seeing no silver spotted tom on his friend's other side, he propped himself up to look around.

"I gotta bettah question for ya," he said.

"Hnh?" grunted Persi, still staring at the pretty sky.

"Where da fuck are we?"

Persi peeled her eyes away from the pleasant blue sky and puffy clouds to take a look around. They were laying in some sort of small field behind what looked like a suburban neighborhood. Rows of rundown houses with small back gardens lined three sides of the field. The fourth side was bordered by a highway.

"Where the fuck are we?" she asked.

"S'what I'm askin' you" Scar answered, rising into a kneeling position.

"I know. I mean I don't know. Shit," Persi's mind raced. The sensation was almost comforting to her. It meant she was finally properly awake. Her thoughts were always going a mile a minute.

But none of her thoughts right now could tell her where they were or how they'd got there.

"What'd we do last night?" she wondered as she sat up.

"Well we still have all our clothes on, so we prolly di'n't fuck," said Scar, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say. He was good at straight-faced teasing.

"Fuck off," Persi scolded softly, her mind elsewhere. She stood up and looked around some more. No sign of Crash. That's not good. Probably. She narrowed her eyes. Her ears went back. Her tail flicked back and forth, its long fur swaying.

Scar stood up next to her, eyeing his oldest friend. He knew what she looked like when she was thinking. It usually didn't take long. He looked around too, hoping to spot his other best friend laying in the grass some meters off, but no luck. Even with only one good eye he could tell they were alone in this field.

Persi could vaguely remember a party. She clung to that memory and worked to expand it. She's been there with Scar and Crash. Of course, that part was easy, they went everywhere together. The party had been mostly lame, but there had been booze. She remembered sitting on a sofa and laughing about something with the lads, beer in hand. She thinks it was beer. She didn't remember leaving.

"So what we doin', boss?" Scar's voice cut into her thoughts.

"We left the party without Crash, apparently," she said aloud, frowning. It didn't answer his question, but it was the thought she was having at that moment, and she knew what he really wanted was to hear her thoughts.

"Oh yeah, I remember, the party!" exclaimed Scar, snapping his fingers in triumph. Then he realized how the rest of that sentence went.

"Why da fuck would we do that?" he asked.

"I don't fuckin' know!" answered, frustrated and starting to worry. Scar was worried too, but Scar could shrug it off a lot easier. Sometimes it just pays to be calm about shit, even bad shit.

"Oi, Crash!" Persi called, hoping if he was in or near one of those houses he might hear her.

"Crashie!" echoed Scar "Where ya at?!" But they got no response.

"Maybe he like, was already passed out when we left or something," Scar thought aloud after a moment. It was the only thing he could think of that made sense.

"Ah yeah, maybe. I guess," agreed Persi. Then suddenly a thought came to her, one that should have come much sooner. Resisting the urge to smack herself in the face, she reached for her phone.

"Oi, where's my phone?!" she cried in alarm.

"I don't fuckin' know" shrugged Scar.

"You still got yours?"

He checked.

"Yeah."

"Call Crashie," ordered Persi.

Scar dialed Crash's number.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Oi, you've reached a badass. You know I'm badass cuz I'm Australian. Aw yeah! Leave a message!

That was a new one.

Scar hung up and opened the text messenger.

Crashie, dude, where you at?

He dialed again.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Oi, you've reached a badass. You know I'm ba-

Scar hung up. Shit.

"No luck?" Persi asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I texted him." Then he had a thought.

"Hang on I'ma try yours," he said.

They both listened close, but neither could hear Persi's ringtone within earshot.

After another attempt to call Crash, and a couple more unanswered texts, Persi decided they should head to one of the suburban streets bordering the field to get their bearings. As they walked, Scar kept trying Crash's and Persi's phones, and they both occasionally called out,

"Crash!"

"Yo Crashie!"

"Oi! Where are ya mate!"

No response.

It turned out they hadn't traveled far from the party. They didn't recognize the street they came to at the edge of the field, but a quick Google Maps of the street name put it just three blocks from the address of the party, which was still saved in Scar's phone.

They headed off in that direction, hoping to retrace their steps, and possibly even find Crash asleep on the sofa. When they reached the party, or rather where the party used to be, they let themselves in, and made a search of the premises. They properly started to panic when all they found was trash, empty booze containers, and drunk jerks passed out in various locations around the house, none of them an Aussie silver bengal named Crashendo.

The stench of drunk farts and stale booze was getting to Persi. Exiting the house to stand on the lawn she took a deep breath of semi-fresh air and tried to get a grip on her thoughts. She was out of ideas. They needed to find Crash. They needed some sort of plan. Dammit. She was a decision maker, a tactician. She thought on her feet. She didn't do plans. Crash is the planner, she thought forlornly.

Scar joined her on the lawn, phone in hand.

"Maybe we can at least find your phone," he said, his voice totally even, as if nothing was wrong. But his clenched jaw and anxious eyes told a different story. Persi was grateful for Scar's calm sensibility under pressure.

He may not be the most educated fella, but damn if he ain't the only one with a brain sometimes, she thought, allowing herself a small affectionate smirk at her friend before worry wiped it from her face again.

"I don't really give a fuck about that," she growled, "but go ahead." It was a lie. Worry was making her argumentative. She wasn't sure how finding her phone would help find Crashie, but Scar never had an idea that turned out to be useless. She trusted him.

He started to turn back into the house as he dialed, but something stopped him in his tracks.

Persi's ringtone.

From outside somewhere…

They both looked around them intently, ears twitching back and forth, trying to pinpoint the sound. It went to voicemail. Scar dialed again. It seemed to be coming from… above them?

They looked up. There, on the roof, tucked into a corner where the main roof met an alcove, laying next to two phones, asleep under the pretty blue sky and puffy clouds, was Crash.

"Oi!" called Persi, "Crash!"

"Crashie! Eyyy buddy!!"

"Crash! Wake up!"

"Ey!"

Persi picked up an empty beer can from the lawn and tossed it at her sleeping friend. He grunted and stirred, then sat up, looking thoroughly bewildered.

"Crashie!" shouted Persi.

"Persi!" echoed Crash, looking down to find where her voice was coming from, the confusion leaving his face instantly when he spotted his best friends.

"What's up?" he asked with a smile, and without a single trace of irony.

"You are, looks like," answered Scar, straight-faced.

Persi's worry had evaporated, to be replaced with intense irritation. How in the hell had he... No she didn't want to know. And how was Scar not even surprised?

She pinched the bridge of her snout where it met her eyes. If she was honest with herself, she shouldn't be surprised either. Why couldn't she have normal friends? She glared up at Crash.

"Can you explain why my phone is up there?” she inquired flatly.

"Boss, I can't explain why I'm up here," he answered as he collected both phones and stood up.

"Well den get da fuck down ya idiot!" laughed Scar.

"Get the fuck down 'ere!" growled Persi in agreement, her accent bleeding through in her frustration. "D'you have any idea wot we been through? Get your arse down 'ere!"

"Can't say that I do, boss," drawled Crash as he slid on his arse down to the edge of the roof, where he gracefully jumped off. And not-so-gracefully landed hard on his feet with a soft thud, forgetting to bend his knees to absorb the impact and nearly falling over.

"Ow," he muttered.

"Y'alright?" chorused Persi and Scar.

"Yea I'm good," said Crash, brushing imaginary dust from his wrinkled jumper. "So what've you two been up too?"

"Well first of all, we wake up in middle of a fuckin' field…"

Scar and Persi continued to fill Crash in on the morning's events as the three best friends started out for home. They quickly ran out of things to say as it turned out it hadn't been terribly eventful after all, just nerve-wracking, so they switched to other topics of conversation. On and on they walked, laughing and shoving each other and chatting about nothing in particular.

Persi put an arm around each of her friends, Scar on the right, Crash on the left, both warm, familiar weights against her sides. The sky was blue and pretty, and everything was right in the world.

[loveseungs]

stray kids reacting to you waking them up by kissing them all over their face

requested by anon

a/n: oh hell very nice

warnings: very soft things ahead read @ ur heart’s own risk

chan

- o heck - o goodness - where even do u start - he’ll prolly be passed the heck out if he even gets the chance to sleep - so like,, u’d often avoid tryna wake him up - esp caus we ALL KNO HE NEEDS IT,,, LIKe,,, - anyway - but he already slept for a good 10 hours and u know he needed to be somewhere so u hopped over to the side of the bed n started showering channie in kisses - just!! some soft n innocent pecks all over his face - his eyes slowly flutter open n he’s kinda confused for 5 secs but when he realizes he’s being,, showered in love n affection… the BIGGEST smile appears on his face - ok u know the face chan makes when he smiles rlly big where his eyes sorta disappear and he giggles a lil bit while smiling - fricfricfricfric abort mission as a chan stan im attacking myself - he’s just grinning like a fool and ur beginning to get flustered so u stop - he takes this opportunity to smooch ur nose - “good morning, sunshine!”

woojin

- i’d like 2 imagine u often fall asleep cuddling woojin bc he’s The Bear of the Century - he’s just… v v v warm and soft - but one time u guys fell asleep on the couch after watching some good ol’ romcoms, buried in each other’s arms - u were very much asleep but the sun kinda hit ur eyes as it seeped through the curtains and u woke up, feeling a little bit of weight on ur waist - u realized woojin was still snuggled into u - ajdlkasjdklajlkdajsl ur heart was melting wow what does it feel like 2 wake up smothered under the snuggles of the love of ur life - u shifted ur postion to plant tiny kisses all over his face bc ksjaldjlaksjldaj kim woooooooojin - like he was already awake bc u shifted in ur position but he decided to pretend he was sleeping so he could receive more kisses - kim woojin is a sly lil’ fricker ʕ •ᴥ• ʔʕ •ᴥ• ʔ - when woojin opened his eyes suddenly and smiled his Woojin SmileTM,, u almost fell out of the couch - “ur awake!!!” u exclaimed, covering ur face - “yes, I am,” he answered, pulling u into a close hug - suddenly ur face was like - 0.5 cm away from his n jkdslkdalsdjklasjdlka - he rested his forehead on urs so he could stare into your eyes,, which he thought were just. ugh. So heckn beautiful - “I didn’t expect to be woken up in such a pleasant way,” he admits, letting his eyes linger on yours.

minho

- ughhh I feel like minho loves this sorta thing - k so like - minho took one glance at his cats and decided that he was jealous of them bc they were sleeping so peacefully - so he decided, ‘yknow,, I’m going to take a good, well-deserved nap.’ - thing is - he forgot u were coming over to hang - when u got to his house, u saw minho just,, paSSED OUT on the couch - lmao me - u were just gonna let him sleep more for a bit caus g00dness knows he is in need of rest - but soonie and doongie started to meow and paw at their empty bowls - smh minho,, feed ur siblings - so u kneel down beside the couch and attempt to wake minho up - but ofC NOT BEFORE PULLING OUT UR PHONE AND SNAPPING PICS OF THIS BAREFACED BEAUTY - usually people look decent sleeping,,, but minho was just,, OUT COLD LMAO - next time minho teased u,,, u had smth u could use against him (◕ ˬ ◕✿) - its not like u took pics bc he looked rlly cute and peaceful,,, like,,, um,,, TOTALLY NOT - anyway,, his cat-siblings were getting kinda hungry so u moved over n started 2 plant smol kisses on his face - he mumbled some incoherent strings of sounds, but ended up fluttering his eyes open - when he realized it was u pressing kisses on his face, he just grinned - “oh?” he teased. “can’t resist me, can you?” - but his confident demeanor couldn’t fool you. you saw his ears turn bright (and I mean BRIGHT) pink - “no, not really. It’s more for you because I know you like it so much.” - “so do it more, why don’t you?”

changbin - CHANGBIN FALLS ASLEEP EVERYWHERE AND ANYWHERE - JUST SAYING - LIKE,, HE’S THE MEMBER MOST OFTEN CAUGHT SLEEPING ON VLOG - so when you find him knocked out cold in the studio, you’re not even surprised - it’s supposed to be lunch break but the others made u go and get changbin, who they thought was still working on music prod - NO! HE’S ASLEEP - u walk towards the sleeping boy and kiss the top of his head!! - ughh he smells good - a natural, fruity scent - wow seo changbin. just marry me - u make ur way from his hair to his forehead, then to the tip of his nose, then his cheeks - u were even considering giving him a short peck on the lips but u were interrupted bc those lips u wanted 2 kiss started to turn upwards into a smile - his eyes were closed but u could tell he was awake n u started 2 kinda get flusterd bc ‘O NO CHANGBIN CAUGHT ME BEING SOFT’ - expecting some kind of witty remark about his handsomeness, you brace yourself… only to find… - changbin looking at u with such a tender gaze - asklajdlksjdklad reader,, - he is so in love with you. - his eyes say it all: the way he stares at you so delicately is proof that he, seo changbin, is deeply, madly in love with you. - “So… are you gonna continue and kiss me on my lips? I mean… it’s too late to stop now.”

hyunjin

- LSJADLSDJLKASJDLKASJDAS HWANG HYUNJIN IS WHIPPED FOR KISSES - like honestly - he loves receiving kisses just as much as he loves giving them - this is actually how he wakes u up quite often—by smothering u in lil’ smooches - HE MAKES SURE HIS LIPS ARE ALWAYS IN PERFECT CONDITION BC HE N E E D S TO BE SURE THAT WHOEVER RECEIVES HIS KISSES LOVE THEM - and o my hell, u rlly do - but one time, you wake up and he’s still asleep, cuddling his pillow - this is when u decide to turn the tables and for the first time… pepper him in kisses - just. all over his face - but wait. U wanted 2 make sure they were The Best,, so u even took an extra step and quietly made ur way to the bathroom to brush ur teeth - THE LEAST U COULD DO WAS KISS HIM SMELLING DECENT, ALRIGHT - anyway, u crawled into bed again and started to smooch him all over his face - u just - admired every single one of his facial features and kissed them - he woke up with a sleepy giggle and before u knew it,, u were the one being smothered in kisses - “I see you’re trying to use my tricks on me. That’s so adorable.” - EVERY TIME I IMAGINE SLEEPY HYUNJIN I KINDA DIE A LITTLE BC SLEEPY!HYUNJIN ON CAMERA’S REALLY REALLY CUTE henlp im soft - bonus: on days hyunjin is especially hard to wake up, you do end up kissing him but he replies with the most obscure things - you: smooches him - him: “please don’t tell me they ran out of chicken”

jisung

- listen - anything u do to jisung makes him weak - he’s just so - HE LOVES!! AFFECTION - he’s constantly asking u if u could meet up - I mean, in regards to ur schedules - bc he rlly enjoys being w u !! - and u love 2 be with him - Saturday nights became hangout night for u two - usually u’d go shopping or take a walk in the part - sometimes even just go on spontaneous trips to far away - but tonight, yall jus wanted to stay in - the weather has been cold lately, so yall opted to jus snuggle and watch Netflix - it was already quite late when ur movie finished and by the time it did, jisung was sleeping on ur shoulder - ‘ah.. he must be tired,’ you thought, examining his face - he looked,,, so tranquil, so calm… - what a rare moment bc we all know he’s rlly l o u d - but ur shoulder was starting to hurt and u wanted to make sure u could sleep comfortably - “jisung,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead. “wake up… the movie’s over and I don’t want to sleep sitting down.” - he stirred a little bit, but his eyes remained closed - “jisuuuuungggg…” you mumbled, “if you don’t wake up, I’m going to kiss you.” - he’d woken up already, but seeing as you made such an offer, he mustered all his strength not to smile and pretended he was asleep - you sighed and smooched his cheeks. “jisuuung, wake up.” - “no,” he said quietly. “if I do, you won’t kiss me.” - gosh darn fellas which kdrama is this - why am I writing such cheesy things,,, I actually apologize - “can we please not sleep sitting down??? My back hurts, okay??” you requested, slapping jisung’s squirrel cheeks playfully. - “okay, but you have to wake me up like that again tomorrow.”

felix

- one word: - disaster - absolute calamity - rule 1: don’t make lee felix’s heart melt or else - but like - u, dear reader, are a rule breaker - anyway - ur neighbors w/ felix so u can easily just barge into his house n wake him up for school - and that’s what’d happen anyway - you guys would wake up, wake each other up, get ready, then head out together - it was just an average morning, and u went over to felix’s house like usual - his mom kindly let u inside and thanked u for always taking time to wake her mess of a son up - “it’s my pleasure,” you answered, heading to his room - sdjaklsdjlaskdjal did I ever mention - felix is THE BIGGEST KID ever - sometimes, it’s hard to spot him on his bed because there are like,,, - A LITERAL MOUNTAIN OF PLUSHIES - and some of them are really big - so u walk over to him and in the whirlpool of stuffed toys, you spot his face - its kinda funny how he’s sprawled out on his bed tho - if u took out the blanket, u’d see his limbs just,, everywhere - so when I say he’s sprawled out, he’s really sprawled out - gosh was this what u were gonna deal with in the married life??? - anyway u went to just smack him in the head w a pillow - like usual - but then for some reason - his face looked extra cute today - maybe it was the plushies - maybe its just because he’s sleeping - you knew rule 1 said: don’t make lee felix’s heart melt or else - but !! the way !! he was !! lying there !! - u could not resist and u kissed every single freckle on his face - “wake up, sleepyhead,” you whispered, running a hand through his hair - when he woke up and realized what was happening - he s c r e a m e d - rip headphone users - yall know how he screamed when changbin kissed him in the survival show, right?? - yeah, THAT, but 10x more wild - he just let out a ghastly scream and fell off the bed,, - wrapped himself in his blanket - “felix!!” you exclaimed, “what’s wrong??” - “STOP!! IT’S TOO EARLY TO BE IN LOVE WITH YOU, [Y/N]!!!!!!”

seungmin

- he’s not the biggest person on skinship - I mean yeah he was cool with it but it wasn’t something he’d search for every second - homeboy’s jus chill - he’s a very diligent boy who believes that rest is v impt so he always makes sure to sleep early so he can wake up early - so usually its him who wakes u up with a gentle pat and a kind “good morning!” - but one time, u find out that he’s out late because minho insists that skz extends practice for a little bit - that little bit turned into a p LONG WHILE - totally not bc they fooled around during practice,,, lmao… what r u talking about - anyway, long story short, seungmin gets home late,, but he doesn’t rlly care bc it’s a weekend after - he finds u already asleep and though he’s disappointed he can’t talk to u now, he settles in to just cuddle u until he falls asleep - when u woke, u were surprised to feel a weight on ur waist - aaaand there it was folks, a seungmin in slumber - aaaaaaahhh u were lowkey shocked bc!!! Seungmin !! was cuddling u!! - rare - u felt very thankful and happy that seungmin had u tight in his arms - for a while, u just laid in bed and thought about how much u loved this boy - soft morning hours = very open - it wasn’t until he shuffled and turned to the other side of the bed when u decided to wake him up so u could have breakfast - u decided to kiss seungmin all over his beautiful face !! - when he woke up, he frowned… - “…ew, [y/n]. you’re so cheesy.” - u scrunched ur nose. “mmm? You don’t like it?” - “no, not really,” he answered, leaning to kiss you on the lips.

jeongin

- ASDFGHJKL OKAY SO LIKE - highschool!au real quick hope u don’t mind - u were dating jeongin for quite some time - and u were v v v v v happy with it !! he treated u very well - whenever u’d go out, he’d always be rlly considerate - lmao the first time u went out,,, he bought a nice jacket that ur friends said u found cute on guys - he TRIED to impress u, and u couldn’t help but laugh bc the tag of the jacket was still on the back, which means he must’ve only bought the jacket in attempts to make u swoon or smth - anyway - u were really in love with his sweet boy - this sweet boy… who u wanted to surprise after his chorale practice - but as the evening crept in closer, u started to worry - where was jeongin?? - he wasn’t in the practice room - u checked everywhere !!! and he wasn’t there!!! - u even shot him a message but he didn’t reply - ur last stop was the library, and lo and behold - homeboy fell asleep on his books - we stan a hardworking student folks - u couldn’t help but giggle - shaking him lightly, u mumbled, “hey jeongin… wake up, it’s late and the library’s about to close.” - all he did was move his head and stir a little bit - his bangs covered his eyes a little, and u decided to brush them off… - … A MISTAKE - suddenly he looked RLLLLLLY MCHECKIN’ CUTE - oh dear oh no - ur cheeks flushed and u didn’t know what to do - asdfghjkl u SORTA RLLY WANTED TO KISS HIM - u don’t know what washed over u, but in a sec, u were peppering kisses on this sleeping boy’s face - his eyes flickered open and as he felt your lips brush against the skin on his face,,, - his cheeks became tinted with strawberry red - his ears??? PINK AS THE DAY - HE COULDN’T EVEN SPEAK PROPERLY - “t-thank you for kissing me!!!!” was all he could say before melting in his seat.

[kingoftheravensarchive]

This is gonna get sappy. Hello! Thank you for 2K (again)! 

Honestly, when I left 2-3 yrs ago I didn’t have any intentions on returning, or at least I hoped beyond hope I wouldn’t cave. I did, though. I’ve been sharing headspace with Uni for a long time, though by official count it’s at five years. A fella I’ve spent a lot of one-on-one time with, getting to know, helping him grow, and he, in turn, helping me in a lot of ways. Writing him has been therapeutic in a way I cannot even begin to describe and when we left those years ago it was for a number of reasons. The biggest being that we--or, really, I--felt as though we had overstayed our welcome. Uni wasn’t shiny and new anymore, hadn’t been for some time, so finding people to write with was like pulling teeth. I had just recently been plagiarized, too, and that honestly made me too paranoid with everything/one. 

But, lo and behold, I returned at the beginning of the year or so, though my activity was in and out for personal reasons. Since properly returning with a fixed schedule not two months ago, I must say I am so... relieved by the way he’s been [re]accepted back into the RP community. Even despite his divergence, despite my hesitance to divulge too much info, etc. It’s been so refreshing to see him get all this activity, to have people want to interact with him, to want to get to know him. AND BLESS THESE SHIPS, HONESTLY. Basically, we love you all and I would thank you all individually but that’d take a long time. Hence this blurb before the proper bias list to say we appreciate you all and wanna write with everyone!

That being said, this bias list will only cover people I’m very close to, people who’ve been following Uni for a long time, or have simply meant quite a bit to us in recent weeks. Please do not be upset if you’re not listed below, as it’s nothing personal and we do appreciate you! It’s just I follow a LOT of people, and, tbh we aren’t close yet-- that can certainly be changed! I’m very friendly despite the nickname! Never hesitate to IM me or ask for my Discord! 

TL;DR hello you are all amazing, thank you so much for all you’ve done for us!! pls buy Uni’s books when I write them lmao. below the cut is my bias list starting with the extra special people!

THE RAVENS

honestly crying for days over these people nbd

@frostkingoftheapocalypse --- HOW HAVE YOU STUCK AROUND FOR THIS LONG? i am amazed. i am also amazed we never talked sooner since we’ve known each other for like... 4 yrs lmfao. AHHH TASHA I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! you give me so much life and I appreciate our friendship, even if it’s late in the making, bc you’re so sweet and generous and a MOM omg. MOM FRIEND. and your writing has always intimidated me in a good way so to be able to finally, properly write with you is an HONOR tbh. you’re such a bright, unwavering light with such a fleshed out boy who’s BEAUTIFUL, and phenomenal drawings (I have that photo you made of Uni as my phone bg), and I honestly can’t wait to see what else we manage to create together. hit me with that good shit, tbh. I love you, Tash. <3

@sonofagunslinger --- CRIES FOR DAYS. Em ilu with my whole heart and soul tbh like you mean so much to me. thank u for riding on this painful/achingly cute ship with me bc Trickshot gives me so much life. you’re so amazing and such a fantastic friend like wtf. look at all this talent bunched up in one person, I can’t even begin to describe how happy I am you came back to tumblr RP and WANTED TO WRITE WITH ME AGAIN like wtf. Jesse is such a little goddamn shit and I love it (Uni, too, ofc) and the headcanons you have for him and his 10/10 FC choice, and ALSO UR ART WTF. I’m still convinced satan lives in you tho bc you sometimes hit me with serious angst that makes me wanna lie down and d i e. but I love it. I love everything we’ve created for Trickshot SO MUCH. THESE BOYS KILL ME. I LOVE YOU, EM. <3

@velvettclaws --- oh NUT. omg I... adore you so much. how dare you be as amazingly wonderful as you are, I am attacked. when we first started writing together I honestly was like “they are SO out of your league, Vicious, look at this style, look at this talent, look at this characterization, are you kidding? it’s gonna be one interaction and that’s it” but I have never been so wrong. and HAPPILY wrong, too. Gabriel is such a beautiful, flawed, eldritch soul with so much thought put into the intricacies of his life, his being, etc and I’m so honored that he chose Uni to be part of it in some way and that we’re still writing together. I l o v e your writing so much, it’s so pretty and GOALS AF in a lot of ways and combined with lil’ Gabu as a whole and YOU ooc, oh my gosh. I die. like this if you cry every time bc I sure af do. you’re so supportive and encouraging and darling, too precious and pure for us, honestly. but I am so, so grateful for you and Gabriel. thank you. ilu so much <3 ;w;

@oneiromanc --- how do I even begin to explain how much I appreciate and adore you??? let me count the ways... we’d be here for an eternity tbh and by then you’d be so sick of me. c; AHHH BAB omg I love you so fkn much. like our boys themselves are just... so achingly wonderful and I love how spontaneous their relationship was and how far they’ve come in just a short while (writing wise), but also... like you’re so fantastic?? such a supportive, amazing, beautiful person who I only wanna smother with love and all the happiness in the world bc you deserve it and so much more! you’re a light in a dark place and I’m so glad we’ve gotten close bc GAAAAAH. I cry. I adore writing with you and reading the things you create and I’m so... thankful to be part of the process, if only in a small way bc your writing is phenomenal and deserving of all the appreciation, just like you!! I love you so much hnnn! ;w;

@angelofoverwatch --- (i know ur on a hiatus again but that’s okay bc ur still my bff). LENORE... omg... ur such a good. such a pure, kindhearted, sweet soul. you were one of the first people I actually properly WROTE with when I came back and it was... so nice??? I LOVE writing with you more than you know and to see all the thought you’ve put into Angela is inspiring and AMAZING. You’re both two beautiful people and I am so grateful we met bc we got somethin’ goin’ here with our babies that is so wonderful, I love it so much and wanna DO SO MANY THINGS WITH THEM. And I want to buy all your art tbh like holy shit look at this talented af human! ilu bb <3 and we’ll be here for when you return!! and even if not, we’re still here for you!

@fenwxlf --- cries for days I loooove you, Cait, so goddamn much and I know some days I seem kinda “meh” with everything but pls know I appreciate you so much and everything we’ve created together in the last 5 years or so. Fenrir is such a prick, just like his dad, and I LOVE it and how much he’s grown. to be part of that is amazing and honestly I am so honored you picked Uni to be MAIN DAD. and I’m so grateful and flattered tbh that you are so tied in with the raven folklore, too, and have immersed yourself in it. NEED ALL THE BIRBS TBH. I just... you mean so much to me that I can’t properly put it into words but I’m so grateful for our friendship, for being able to write with you, to be part of Fen and Svad’s characterization process/es and... all of it. you’re amazing ooc and I’ve loved to keep up with all you’ve done in the last few years and I’m so happy we never really broke contact even during our hiatus bc you’re a phenomenal friend, irreplaceable. you perfect cinnamon roll /sobs forever. Uni and I love you all soooooo much <3

THE CROWS

the folks who have been around for a long, long, long time tbh. how have you not gotten sick of us?? if i’m missing people, i’m so sorry! if you’ve been around for 3+ years, we are amazed you’re still here, for one, and also SO GRATEFUL. you are the reason I keep writing.

@sultrysupernaturals / @agentharrisonofshield & @stiitchwiitchsera / @jennathearcher / @lilylacey / @mordorshi / @madxwonderland

THE MAGPIES

some special mentions! people who mean a lot to me and/or Uni, people we appreciate so much, whom we’ve adored writing with, etc! i’m definitely missing people on this list! my brain only does so well, y’know.

@ircnwccd / @brazenlass / @talonsaconite / @stxrmurdottir / @asgardianhammer / @valadhxfndr / @maegtig / @zehsvara / @crowsandmalachite / @iisfet / @aldrnaari / @tricksandtreason & @jxrmungand / @viiribus / @strongindependentmen / @iridcscentiisms / @jenniferwallters & @claudiadelicncourt / @vasvvani & @aropoakande / @alalkomeneis / @huntingglory & @sifshieldmaiden / @roipirate

[fblikeshayaris]

Good Night Messages (Cute, Funny, Romantic, Love)

Good Night Messages for Whatsapp (for Him/Her)

Good night messages are used to wish people a very good night. Good night message is often sent as a good night wishes. So are you looking for best good night messages? Here I have shared a huge collection of Good Night Messages for her, him, friends, boyfriend, girlfriend. Also there are many cute, funny, romantic good night messages are shared. Do check good night sms for whatsapp and send them to your loved ones.

Best Good Night Messages – Cute, Funny Good Night Message

So here I came with large collection of good night messages that can used to wish happy good night. You can use these good night text messages as your facebook and whatsapp status.

Now, Birds R Silent.

Butterflies R Hanging..

Sun Is Sleeping

Moon Is Watching U, Sshhhhhhhh..

Its Time 2 Sleep,Close Ur Eyes..

Sweet Dreams.. (cutest good night messages)

G. Go 2 Bed

O. Off d Lites

O. Out O Tension

D. Dreamz Come

N. Nice Sleep

I. Ignore Worries

G. Get Up Early

H. Hve A Nixe Day

T. Thank God Alwayz … (: (funny good night messages)

Dreaming of you makes my night worthwhile;

Thinking of you makes me smile;

Being with you is the best thing ever;

And loving you is what I’ll do forever.

Good Night!

Close your eyes,

Concentrate your mind & 

Pray to god about the things

That you want most. 

GOD must fulfill your prayer…

Have a nice sleep…

Good Night— (beautiful good night messages)

A bed of clouds for U to sleep,

Diamond stars as ur bed side lamp,

Angels from heaven singing lullabies for U,

May u sleep peacefully, Good night..

I’m glad I have you near

For the many things you’ve brought me

There’s nothing I shall fear

Good night my dear

Day May Fall When Sun Goes Off,

But You Should Never. . .

Good Night

Have Rocking Weekdays Fellas … =)

Romantic Good Night Messages – Good Night Love Messages

People are usually searching for romantic good night messages so here i have an awesome collection of sweet romantic good night messages. Do check them and choose best one to send your loving one.

Nobody’s right till somebody’s wrong.

Nobody’s weak till somebody’s strong.

Nobody’s lucky till love comes along.

Nobody’s lonely till somebody’s gone.

I love and miss you tonight! 

I wish moon always be full & bright and U always be cool & right. 

Whenever U go to switch off the light, 

Remember that I’m wishing U …Good Night! (best romantic good night messages)

My day may be hectic.

My schedule may be tight.

But I would never let the day end

without saying Good night and. Sweet dreams!

Even as you close your eyes in sleep

my love for you remains true and deep

it’s you I love and forever will keep

just to say sweet dreams before we both fall asleep

A day is going to end again. 

It is nice to have someone like U making everyday seems so great. 

Thank U my love and may all the angels guard you this night!

Stars light Stars bright you are the only Star I see tonight.

I wish I may, I wish I might be there guarding your dreams tonight.

Good night and sleep well. (very romantic good night messages)

Its a goodnight from me to you

its not a goodbye I will never disconnect from you

sweet dreams my love may the moon and stars refresh you

and has the day breaks may it bring good tidings to you

have a restful night Goodnight.

Good Night Messages for Her – Girlfriend

Don’t sleep without wishing your girlfriend with good night messages for her. We have special collection on good night messages for her with love and flirty.

Thinking about you is the tipping point where my nightmares end and sweet dreams begin. 

I love you. Good Night. (sweet good night messages for her)

The night is far too long, for you to be away. 

I am desperately waiting, for it to turn into day. 

My heart will rot away, if things keep going on like this. 

All I want to do, is give you a kiss. Good night.

As the clock quickly counts down the seconds until midnight, 

I wanted to take a moment to let you know just what you mean to me. 

You are the most beautiful, gorgeous woman that ever existed. 

Since I met you, you have become my entire universe. 

I love you, beautiful. Good night.

Each night, I think of a reason I love you for every star that I see in the sky. 

Tonight, I ran out of stars. 

It is impossible to count the reasons why I love you because those reasons are infinite. (sweet goodnight text messages for her)

Have a good night, you must rest my beloved. 

You are the greatest gift life has given to me. Tonight I will dream with you.

I am looking at the beautiful moon and thinking about that night when I gave you the first kiss, 

it was one of the best days of my life because it meant the start of our sweet love story, 

have a good night my girlfriend. [cute goodnight texts to girlfriend]

Good Night Messages for Him – Boyfriend

Boys always becomes flirty at night, so don’t let them sleep without sending flirty good night messages for him. Check out the best collection on best good night messages for him.

Good night, to the guy who makes my days bright. 

Sweet dreams, to the guy whose love makes me burst out at the seams. 

Hugs and kisses, to the guy who makes my life seem like a bed of roses. 

I love you. (short good night messages for him)

The stars are shining. 

The wind is blowing. 

The moon is sweetly whispering that it’s time for sleep. 

Good night, my one and only.

The Clοuds Have Parted Tο Let Moon Βe Your Night Lamp, 

The wind Ηas died οwn To Bring Silence Αnd Peace. 

Ιt is Because I Tοld Them That Sοmeone Precious Tο Me is Going Tο Sleep. 

Gοοd Night, Dear οne, Sleep Well.

God sprinkles tiny but wonderful seeds of blessings on earth each day and I just caught one that’s so nice and true, it’s YOU ! 

Love you and good night. (loving good night messages for him)

Every night I fall asleep with a smile on my face… 

because I know that I’m going to wake up and meet the person who puts it there. 

Good Night

When I say GOOD night, 

I actually want you to be a GOOD boy at night. 

So don’t think about any girl except me. 

Good night handsome.

Dreams of you make my night worthwhile. 

The thought of you makes me smile. 

Being your love is the best thing ever. 

I will love you forever.

You are my sky and I am cloud, 

you are my star and I am twinkle in it, 

you are my moon and I am light from it. 

I am nothing without you my sweetheart! 

Goodnight and sweet dreams

Nοthing is better Τhan hearing that sοmeone loves and cares fοr you. 

Send yοur boyfriend off Τo sweet dreams Βy reminding him Ηow much you care.

Good Night Messages for Friends

Friends are friends, they are the most important in our life. So with them a a happy good night with good night messages for friends.

Every day I spend with you is the new best day of my life. 

Can’t wait for the morning. 

Good night baby. funny good night messages for friends

Don’t worry about witches

They can not come

To see you on nights

Hey stay in their homes

Beneath the bed

Goodnight my love, pleasant dreams, 

sleep tight my love, 

may tomorrow be sunny and bright and bring you closer to me.

It is time for you to rest, 

remember that tomorrow we will have a wonderful day filled with lots of fun so see you tomorrow and have a good rest. (best good night messages for friends)

You all look like star of day

Just due to meet all you

I always sleep and see dreams

I could not fall asleep yet and I remembered that 

I had no time to say goodbye to you personally, 

so I am sending this message wishing you good night.

via Blogger http://ift.tt/1Pt1Gbu Good Night Messages for Friends, good night messages for him, Good Night Shayari, Good Night SMS Messages, good night text message, romantic good night messages http://ift.tt/2mTCZzn March 05, 2017 at 10:05PM

[xavierscos]

Stuff to post w art today:

For the robosona ref:

Yup here’s my botsona!!!! Here’s some extra info on him!!!

·         He has inner fans to keep him below a certain temperature (one of them is busted)

·         If he gets too flustered/excited and goes past a certain temperature, he’ll blue screen and crash

·         If he gets too stressed he’ll do that weird color static thing computer’s do and then he’ll crash

·         Has a volume + power button on the side of his head. You can mute him by turning down his volume button (which will then result in him communicating through emojis and such)

·         He can use emojis when he’s not muted but he doesn’t really like doing that. The only emoji he uses no matter his volume level is the knife emoji

·         Can display words one at a time on his screen (the most used are: various curses such as FUCK, CUNT, ASS, SHIT; YES; NO; MOE; C-3Y). the word ERROR shows up when he crashes/does the blue screen thing

·         Pupil can change shape (hearts, eye swirls, money symbols, etc)

·         His cat companion Booby (yes based after my cat Boobs) was actually stolen! Yup! This lil bot fella stole a cat from someone’s house and the cat just ?? went with it?? And bonded with the bot??? anyways story is xai was homeless for a lot (he still is but now he travels) so every day when the person went off to work he’d sit at the fence and pet the cat bc booby would hop over it and he’d feed the cat and shit and one day he just. ran off w the cat

<b>Liquid mood-color chart </b>

Purple – standard mood, average

Pink – lovesick/lovestruck, doting, affectionate (tints the purple a bit more pink around ppl he genuinely loves buuut gets really bright when feeling Extra Affectionate)

Blue – sad, sullen (darker means feeling worse)

Red – angry, outraged (brighter means angrier)

Yellow – excited, energetic (different from happy – brighter means more energized)

Dark green – jealous, bitter, resentful

Bright green – disgusted, grossed out,

Pinkish-red – embarrassed, flustered, nervous,

Blue-green – apologetic, guilty

Neon/cyan blue – Frightened, panicking, scared

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For the Duckpaw/Perse + alters

Hey yall as u kno duckpaw/perse has DID so I,, finally made art of her alters anyways let’s go

WC name | Human Name | Info | <b>How to tell if WC form is fronting</b> | <i>How to tell if Human form is fronting</i> |

 Mudpuddle | Mariana | She/Her. She’s the essential “caretaker” of the system. Makes sure the body isn’t damaged beyond repair and will take care of the body after Duck/Perse has had a bad episode. | <b>She constantly grooms her fur so it curls upwards slightly rather than Duckpaw’s straightforward style. Speaks in a soft, low tone.</b> | <I>Curls her hair w/ a curler. Wears blouses, dress pants, boots.</i> |

Patches | Dudley | They/Them. Tends to stick up more. Will front when Duck/Perse is being pressured to do shit she doesn’t like and/or recalling blocked out memories. Irritable, snarky, snide. Tends to be rather smug and a know-it-all. Yells @ ppl who pisses them off. | <b>Doesn’t groom as much as Duck or Mudpuddle, so fur kinda sinks down ish. Not really too far but. Still spiky like Duck’s. Cranky, loud. Will typically let u kno they’re fronting</b> | <i>Wears suits and ties, or dress shirts and pants. Wears hair up in a bun.</i>

Bugs | Bud | He/Him. Prefers to isolate himself, distances himself away from friends and shit. Doesn’t interact much unless necessary. Sleeps a lot and eats a lot. | <b>Will run off from camp and hide out in territory. Doesn’t groom, collects dirt in fur. Doesn’t really talk around others either.</b> | <i>Won’t change out of pajamas, doesn’t brush or wash hair, locks himself in the room.</i>

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That ross/perse picture

Oooohhh boy lemme dive into the history of human au ross + Persephone real quick uh

<b>Trigger warnings: Physical abuse, sexual abuse, mental/emotional abuse, psychological trauma, death, pedophilia</b>

Ross had 4 other siblings and he was the youngest – his mother died after giving birth to him, so he always kinda carried around this guilt that he was the reason his mom was dead. His dad always kinda was distant/didn’t spoil him as much as the others, but he still cared for ross and shit. When ross was about 10 or so he was driving with his siblings while he talked 2 ronnie on the phone. Another car kinda rammed into them and they got in a pretty bad car wreck which Ronnie heard over the phone so he called ross’ family and shit. Reyes and hollyanne and his dad all came and a couple of ross’ siblings died on scene; he was hospitalized with one other sibling. He had a broken arm and a couple fractured ribs, bruising and lacerations but he was alive – his sibling was in a coma and didn’t come out.

Ross’ dad was kinda resentful bc he lost all of his kids besides ross and he already kinda resented ross for taking away his wife so he like. flat out ignored ross, didn’t talk to him, didn’t really do anything. Hollyanne started picking ross up to and from school bc he started missing bc his dad wouldn’t drive him. Eventually ross and his dad moved in w hollyanne and reyes (and then addar and Persephone came along). ross’ dad started saying some nasty comments over a period of a year or two that started to bring ross’ waaaayyyy down so ross turned to another guy (said guy was 18, ross was 13-14) who flattered him and told him nice shit. This guy took advantage of ross + ross’ insecurities and slept with ross more than once (despite ross saying he wasn’t comfortable the first few times)

The family caught ross + the guy in his room one night and hollyanne/reyes were pissed @ the guy bc this dude is 18,,preying on a 14 y/o so they kicked the dude out (they started filing for charges/restraining order after) but ross’ dad was pissed @ ross bc this wasn’t “right” (ross’ dad was a firm believer in abstinence and also this is an adult with a child and ross’ dad kinda blamed ross for not realizing what was happening was bad) so ross’ dad’s belittling started getting worse and worse afterwards and one day ross kinda said something back and ross’ dad hit him over the face and hollyanne/reyes were like “alright you have to go like right fucking now” so they kicked ross’ dad out and he left w/out looking back and ross hasn’t spoken to him in a while

Ross is now a bitter dude who thinks his only value in life is sex/sexual purpose and he doesn’t believe he can amount to anything good so instead of risking shit (like failing grades or job interviews or whatever) he bribes ppl 2 either do shit for him or give him shit (take a wild guess abt how the briberies work)

 Persephone has like 98% of her memories from her childhood blocked. Her mother died a little bit after her first birthday and no one knew who her dad was so she went into care under her uncle and her uncle was,, kinda poor so he had a bunch of friends/family he lived with. Persephone saw a lot of death growing up (people overdosed on drugs, sickness related, people got shot) and that kinda stuck with her through her life so she has a phobia of death stimming from that. Also some of her uncle’s friends started getting uh, handsy with her and touching her and shit so that has ,, stuck with her. She’s blocked out the memories but if she tries to recall them she’ll have a bad mental reaction. Eventually she managed to book it during the middle of another move (the family moved around a lot) and she kinda wandered the streets for a few days until hollyanne/reyes spotted her and took her in. eventually after a little bit of living w them she came out as a trans girl so now holly and reyes r helping her with her transition n shit. Also they got her professionally diagnosed

When she was in like 7th grade ross had brought home some dude he worked with on a science project. The guy was a senior but took some lower classes and shit,, also he’s addar. Anyways addar was always rlly friendly w Persephone and gave her a lot of brotherly attention and holly was eventually like “Hey do u mind babysitting ross and perse while reyes and I go out and do some errands” and addar was like “sure!!!” eventually they all got super close and addar moved in(?) so now theyre all one big happy family :”)

 Uh characters mentioned belong 2: :devberryboats: :devbabysiut: :devppurble:

((pls don’t read this if the triggers will cause bad shit just lemme kno what u wanna hear abt the history ill give u an abridged version of where ur charas r involved))