#fuck i seriously don't have anymore energy for words.

[nexus-nebulae]

"hey. what the fuck, man"

- one of our fictives coming to front for the first time in eight months and immediately scrolling past fanart of him even though we literally haven't seen content from that fandom much less of that character since we left it eight months ago

[lotusunique]

Nights Like This

Armando Aretas x Fem! Reader

Mkay so while yall wait on this pt.3 of The engagement, ima give yall this lil story I been working on! Im ngl I did cut it in half this was long as HELL! So enjoy ❤️

“We should go out tomorrow night. We never do that anymore.", Kelly says grabbing her purse. "Yeah because you and your man are always boo'd up somewhere. Marcus isn't allowed out too many times in a row or Theresa will kick his ass. Mike is happily married now. And I refuse to be a third wheel on you two’s date" I explain.

“So why don't you invite Armando out.", She looks over to Armando who's looking through a case file. Since he helped take down McGrath and saved Callie, Mike tried to sort out a deal for him. He'll work out his sentence, here at AMMO, being apart of the tactical weapons team.

"Um absolutely not. He literally doesn’t know I exist in that way", I groan. "That’s not true. You just gotta make yourself known. Plus he’s kinda a dick. I don't know why you like him anyway.?”,she says damn

near screaming my secret. "Um firstly, shut up. What you wanna tell the whole world my secret?", I shush her. That’s all I fucking need. For Armando to find out I like him or WORSE. Mike and Marcus could find out. I’d never live it down.

"Invite him out or l'm gonna shout it from the rooftops.", Kelly gives an evil smirk.

"Shout what from the rooftops?", Mike looks over to us. "Oh nothing just that Y/n li-", you elbow her in the side. "That Y/n is going out with Kelly and Dorn tomorrow night", you give a tight lipped smile. "I'm so excited I could scream", Kelly smiles.

"Y'all weird as hell man", Mike says just giving the two of you a glance. Kelly lets out a laugh before nodding towards Armando's seat. "No.",you give a stern look.

"Yes!", kelly says seriously. "Fine. I'll do it before I leave later.", you give in, not wanting to discuss it any further.

- Later-

"I'm out, don't stay too long okay", Kelly says patting your shoulder before heading out, quickly shooting a glance over at Armando, signaling you to talk to him.

She heads out, the door closing, being a deafening reminder of how quiet it is since you and Armando are the only ones in the office. The dim lights giving an Erie feel. "Breathe Y/n. Now's the time to go talk to him", You think to yourself.

"Hey."you walk over to him. He looks up at you with a stare that says "what do you want". "Well I just thought that since it's just me and you tonight, we could at least conversate so it won't be absolutely boring", You sit on his desk.

"What do we have to talk about?", He says with that accent that just drives you crazy.

"Well I do technically have something to ask you", You say looking down at him. "There it is", he flashes a smile. "Stop", You roll your eyes.

"Mkay shoot.", He crosses his arms with a smirk.

"Please come with me tomorrow night. Kelly wants me to go out with her and Dorn. And I really don't wanna third wheel.", you plead.

“What’s in it for me?”, he looks up at you, placing the pen in between his plump lips. “What do you want?”,you ask, staring right down at his lips.

“What’re you offering?”, he asks, moving his rolling chair to where he’s sitting in between your legs,staring up at you with this smirk on his face like he just knows what he’s doing to you.

“I..I..uh”,your breath starts to hitch. “Use your words hermosa.”, he glances up at you through low eyes.

He has to know what he’s doing to you right? The only option is to match his energy, even though it’s all a front.

“Mister Aretas, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”,you snap out of whatever shy shit you just had going on.

“And if I was?”,He traces his finger up your exposed leg. Today was the perfect day to wear a pencil skirt.

The sound of the glass doors creaking open surprises you, causing you to move off the desk swiftly as possible.

“Sorry, I left my house keys”,Marcus walks in, not looking at the two of you.

“Hollup…it’s real dark in here. What yall in here-“,he looks between the two of you. “Nothing we were just talking”,you say quickly. Marcus looks over at Armando who has a condescending smirk upon his face. “Oh okay”,Marcus laughs. “It’s not like that Marcus”,You bury your head in your hands with a laugh.

“Look that ain’t nun of my business. Just make sure you use that latex. Cause you don’t wanna get that I’m late Text!”,he says before dapping Armando up. “What is HAPPENING”, you internally scream to yourself.

Marcus quickly makes his exit, leaving you and Armando to discuss what just happened. “That was embarrassing”,you groan. “It was hilarious”,he laughs. “No it wasn’t”, you lean against the door. “I’ll go with you. I’ve got something to handle before hand though,so I’ll meet you there”,he smiles over at you.

“Okay great. I’m gonna go home. Be safe. I’ll see you tomorrow”,you nervously grab your things before heading out to your car.

[skele-bunny]

"Just the tip?" (CW) Rain/Dewdrop

CW - Somnophilia

Tags: NSFW, trans! Dewdrop, cunt/folds/clit/t-dick used

Characters: Rain, Dewdrop

A gift for @hypnoneghoul after heavily discussing ghoul coochie and dick. We have intelligent conversations, obviously. Short and sweet!

(Divider by @ wrathofrats )

It felt like during the entire show, Dewdrop was teasing Rain. Heavily. Multiple times going up behind the bassist and during rests, bumping his guitar against Rain's ass. Making more obscene gestures, pointing at him. Of course, the crowd adored it. Maybe Rain did too, but he'd never admit it out loud of course. It was during their little 'interaction' had Rain finally felt weak in the knees once his observations were correct. Dew's hand on his throat, helmet pushed so close.

"Gonna ride you until I fuck your brains out, princess."

So, it confused Rain that once they got onto their bus and settled in, why Dewdrop looked so confused while Rain sat expectantly. Waiting. Patient. Rain had started whining, snuggled up against Dew's side, hand resting on his mate's thigh and gripping like he'd slip away any second. Was this part of his tease? Make Rain beg for it?

Dew had simply blinked. "What are you doing, Rainy?"

His tail began to wag at the acknowledgment finally, face lighting up. "I'm waiting! You said... You know... A-And I don't want to rush you or anything!"

"Baby, what are you talking about? Seriously." Dew tilted his head, confusion honestly written over his face.

"What you said to me on stage?" Rain slowly let go, but his hard cock continuing to make itself known as he was pressed against Dew's calf.

It took the fire ghoul a moment to think, clicking his tongue in realization. "Oh, shit— I'm sorry Rain, I was just teasing. Didn't actually mean... You know."

Rain's face turned warm, embarrassed from the misunderstanding and tone. He cleared his throat, crossing his legs on the couch so he wasn't pressed up anymore, hand quickly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear as it got too close to his eye.

"Sorry! Sorry, I must've... Yeah, just didn't think properly."

"Hey, hey... You're alright. I should've thought about what we were doing more clearly when I started talking." Dew's eyes flickered down between Rain's thighs. "I don't mind helping you, still. Kinda' feel bad now."

Shaking his head, "Don't be!" Rain gave a soft smile. "It's alright! Maybe we can just cuddle tonight instead?"

They had agreed on it together, continuing to talk in the back before exhaustion finally settled in— Dew stretching and slowly waddling to his bunk which Rain mimicked. Still, his words echoed through Rain's head, quickly finding himself still chubbed and watching how Dewdrop's back arched while pushing himself up into the bunk. He followed in after, pressing against Dew's back and curling with him, their purrs being shared back and forth. His hips bucked a bit closer, now completely resting on Dew's ass.

"Are you sure you don't want help?" Dew mumbled, readjusting the pillow under his head.

Rain simply nodded, hiding his face against Dew's neck. A low, soft whine left his lips, hand on Dew's hip slowly rubbing in circles before dipping down, fiddling with the fire ghoul's pajama strings.

"Rain—"

"Can I just put it in?" Rain blurted out, fingers curling more down and pawing helplessly at his mate's folds. "Please?"

The lead huffed, tail thumping against Rain's leg, looking over his shoulder some. "Princess, I really don't have the energy for that right now."

"Please?" Rain moved so they could have eye contact. "I-I'll do all the work! Just the tip, I promise! Please?"

The two held eye contact before Dewdrop sighed, nodding and rolling back over. "Alright, just this once. Only because you let me ride you that one time in your sleep!"

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you—"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm still going to bed, though." Dew hummed, feeling Rain press a kiss to his cheek.

Rain pulled his boxers down, settling the band right under his balls, making sure he was comfortable. His hand moved and pulled Dew's pajamas off with his underwear just to his knees, curling himself up so their genitals were lined up. He moved himself to paw at Dew's folds, whining again while his middle finger rubbed at his t-dick. The bud twitched and slowly came to life with accompanying feeling of slick moving sideways, Rain snuggling himself closer and grinding his cock against the feeling.

Staying true to his promise, Rain grabbed himself and watched as he sank into Dew's warm folds, listening to him sigh pleasantly. He stopped moving after his head popped in, snuggling back up with his hand going up Dew's shirt to slowly tweak with his nipple. Rain wasn't big by any means, but still comfortable enough to please his partners for hours on end. He slowly pulled back to hump back in, drooling as Dew's cunt welcome him and folds blossoming around him when he'd start to pull out.

He kept an eye on himself, making sure nothing else pushed past besides his cock head. The fire ghoul kept making little whines or breathy exhales, keeping himself still and holding his pillow as Rain tip-fucked him. Lost in his own pleasure, Rain jumped a bit when the sound of snoring came from his partner. He tilted his head up, giggling under his breath as Dew was drooling on his pillow, cheeks still flushed from the event.

There was a quick adjustment to where Dew was laid more comfortably against Rain's chest, the bassist wiggling some before going back to his humps. His eyes stayed locked onto Dew's sleeping face, cock twitching in response. His hand went down to squeeze his knot, eagerness through each pulse of his palm.

"You're so beautiful," Rain sighed to the sleeping body next to him. "So fucking gorgeous."

His knot was only semi-filled before it popped, Rain grimacing as he bit his lip at the quick release. Dewdrop had made a teasing comment a few weeks ago about how quick Rain came when anything involving sleep was involved—the bassist just rolling his eyes and not believing it. Yet, here it happened. A nerve wracking shiver went up Rain's spine, looking down to see his cum trickling from Dew's folds, his own cock still at full mast.

Grabbing back up to Dew, his hips were pressed down as he started rocking again, a newfound need burning in his core. The rocking motions did nothing but ease Dewdrop into a heavier slumber, lips parted and occasionally a small moan would slip through.

The head of his length stayed pressed into heat before being pulled back, then rammed in once more. Rain could feel his own heart in his throat at this point, hands shaking as the realization of the erotica playing out in front of him—how it controlled him, pressing every happy button in his body. Rain moved his mouth up, licking over his mate's closed gills and eyes rolling back as the taste settled on his taste buds happily.

If he was paying attention, he would've stopped from embarrassment at how quickly he came again. Matter of fact, Rain truly didn't know how many times he did. Just enough that when he woke up, Dew was annoyed at his mattress having a heavy wet spot that couldn't dry even as he held his flame over it. His thighs and cunt coated, completely smelling of Rain and sex.

That, and a quiet plead escaping Rain's mouth at the wondering question of consent to fully fuck Dew in his sleep.

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 14

warnings: SMUT! 18+!, dirty talk, fingering, mention of p in v sex.

Part 14

"We can't keep doing this," Liana said as she lay on her back, breathing heavily, with Patrick in the same position beside her. "What the actual fuck are you talking about, Liana?" His disdainful voice echoed through the unfurnished apartment. "I can't hear your voice anymore. I really can't," she mumbled, turning her back to him, which made him grab her hair in a firm but not strong fist.

"You didn't have a problem hearing me while I was fucking you, Li. Kind of hypocritical, don't you think?" he sneered, pulling her closer. "Do you always have to be so crude and disgusting? Seriously, I'm askin—" He cut her off by pushing a finger into her mouth. Not too hard, he knew she would open it just enough to take exactly what he wanted to give her.

"Maybe I'm the one who can't hear you anymore, did you think of that option?" he tightened his grip on her hair, pushing the finger a bit deeper, hearing her choke lightly but not trying to resist. "Complaining all day. Something always bothers you. Never saying 'thank you' for how good I am to you," he added another finger and she turned her head for a second but steadied herself quickly.

Liana wanted to answer him but his fingers, pumping in her mouth, kept her busy. And the heat of New York in July was driving her crazy. They had just finished fucking; it didn't make sense that she was so horny again.

"Say sorry," he said in a steady voice to her ear. "If you say sorry and let me smoke a damn cigarette without fighting with me, maybe I'll push these fingers into your pussy." She shook her head no, making him chuckle. "You're such a slut, Liana. You know that if you start a fight the second after you cum, I'll want to fuck you again. Say fucking sorry." She moaned into his fingers, closing her eyes, clearly imagining them inside her soaked pussy. It wasn't clear if she was this wet from the sex they had a few minutes ago, or from the words he was saying to her now with that grip on her hair.

"Sorry," she said as his fingers tickled her throat and she choked on her own words. "Again," he didn't move an inch. Aware of her discomfort. "Sorry," she said. She could come from this situation. He knew she could come like this exactly. Without him touching her at all. "My little slut, who spends all day looking for a fight, wants to come?" he asked, amused. His dick hadn't even had a chance to get hard again and she was already so worked up. So easy for him to push her to the edge.

"Yes. Please, Patrick," into his fingers, she let out an unreasonable amount of saliva. He pulled them out and pushed them directly to where she needed him. "I don't want to hear a peep from you. The first moan and I pull them out," he said. "Is this the only way I can get some peace and quiet in this house? Only when I put something inside you, Liana?" All he heard in response was her heavy breathing. He turned her onto her back again.

"You want to make your pretty noises so badly and you can't. Such a pity you're a brat, huh, Li?" He saw the tears gathering in her eyes from the effort not to make any sound. Because she knew he would stop. He was that much of a dickhead. And all Liana wanted was to scream his name over and over and over. Patrick. Patrick. Patrick.

"You like hearing my voice now, huh?" he said, adding a third finger and feeling her tighten around him with a sigh she couldn't keep in. She never knew how to come quietly and that would always be Patrick's favorite sound. He chuckled as he pulled his fingers out of her and lay back beside her.

"Can I smoke now or are we still fighting?" he asked, rolling his eyes and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "I don't think you have any more orgasms to give me today," he stated and lit the cigarette.

"Can you at least smoke by the window?" She rolled her eyes and he sighed, mustering the last of his energy to stand by the window. Quiet again. Exactly what Patrick wanted. He wanted her to be silent sometimes so much that he hated himself for needing to just not hear her voice. Not always. Just occasionally, when he heard her too much.

"I'm going to take a shower." She mumbled and locked herself in the bathroom. Liana took a deep breath as she leaned on the sink, looking at herself in the small mirror. They had landed almost a week ago. The apartment still looked like a homeless person was squatting in it. The bathroom wall was peeling and it bothered her. Patrick said he would fix it. That's the only reason she didn't insist on seeing other apartments. She turned on the cold water, trying to cool down the heat and anger she felt. Returning to America was weighing on her, and Patrick had forgotten her birthday yesterday. That's what they had been fighting about for a day now.

"Sorry I expected my boyfriend of the past three years to remember I have a birthday. My bad," she shouted, tears in her eyes. She needed a break from all the stress of the move, job hunting, and avoiding meeting her parents. She needed one evening with Patrick at a silly restaurant to feel she could get through this period. But no, even that he couldn't give her.

"Li, you always celebrated with Ar—" he started. "That excuse doesn't work, Patrick. Think of a new one. Where were you and why was it more important than being with me today?" She crossed her arms under her chest. If she could, she would have thrown something at him. "I met up with Logan and Dave from boarding school." He lowered his head. Embarrassed. He was fully-drunk right now, Liana hadn't noticed yet.

To his defense, he felt terrible. He went out to get drunk with friends from the past on his girlfriend's birthday. It wasn't a good feeling. "I'll make it up to you, Li." He said, and she looked at him with teary eyes and a disgusted expression. "You make me sick, Patrick. I could literally throw up right now," she said. She always knew how to say the hardest things to hear in the middle of fights. Lately, they had been fighting so much that Patrick had become indifferent.

"Then you wonder why even on your birthday I don't want to be with you. With all due respect, Liana, you're unbearable." He said coldly, stepping away from her, hoping she wouldn't smell the alcohol on him. Regretting the amount he drank. But he got carried away, and he hadn't seen his friends in literally years, and he knew in another world, Art could have been there too, so they drank and enjoyed, and then he came back to the dingy apartment they rented and the girl he shared his life with, and he felt like his soul was sucked out of him in a second.

"I'm not forcing you to be with me, Patrick. You can take your shit and leave. Better yet, I'll take my shit and leave this place. I'm pretty sure there's asbestos in the walls." She rolled her eyes and poured herself a glass of wine.

And then he apologized and apologized and apologized, and they fucked and fucked and fucked, and each in turn wondered aloud if this was how their whole lives would look.  And each in turn wanted to cry and shake the person in front of them, and usually, there were no turns at all, they just shouted at each other simultaneously. Who forgets their girlfriend's birthday? Their truly objectively wonderful girlfriend. The one who goes with him to tournaments. The one who listens to him after he fights with his parents. The one who lets him fuck her in the filthiest ways imaginable.

That's how they had been all day, and Liana was exhausted. She had no more strength for the shouting seminar imposed on her. She had no desire to fuck anymore, and she had no desire to forgive him for every fuck-up he made.

"I'm going to sleep." She mumbled as she came out of the shower dressed only in her underwear. "Like that?" He asked with a smile. "Yes, Patrick. You didn't bother with air conditioning in the apartment, so like this." She rolled her eyes. Again with her back to him, making him sigh.

"Are we still fighting?" He asked after fifteen minutes. He knew she wasn't asleep yet because she breathed differently when she slept. "I don't know, Patrick, are we still fighting?" Liana's voice was quiet and defeated. "Can you turn towards me?" He asked softly. It was the first time he spoke to her softly since this round of fights began. So Liana turned, and he gently moved some hair from her face, in the gentlest motion he could muster.

"I really am sorry, Li. You know I'm sorry, right?" He asked. Liana could see by the moonlight streaming through the window that his eyebrows were furrowed. "I know, Pat. I just don't understand how the fact that you're sorry helps me anymore." She sounded calm, but her sigh expressed frustration. "I'll try harder. We'll have a date night tomorrow. I'll make it up to you, Lilo." He smiled, tracing circles on her cheek. He knew he could turn things around. It's him and Liana. They had had more serious fights than her crappy birthday. Who cares about birthdays anyway?

"We really can't keep doing this, Pat..." She said what she had said to him half an hour ago, only in a different tone. "Doing what?" He knew she needed to release it. To say everything clearly and sharply, and he needed to take a deep breath and then tell her she was right and let it pass with the night. "We can't scream the worst things in the world at each other." She sighed, "You can't grab my hair and then—" "You love it when I grab your hair," they both rolled their eyes when he interrupted her. "That's not the point. You can't scream at me that I'm unbearable and then grab my hair and fuck me and think everything is fine after we cum. We're trying to build something. We just moved into this shithole, and we already can't look at each other. It's fucking scary." She concluded. "Can I?" He asked for permission to speak, and she nodded, knowing his piercing gaze could see her even in the dark. "First of all, you also say hurtful shit, Liana. I usually just respond to it. Secondly, I'll say it again—you love when I grab your hair. I won't detail how we found that out, because I remember you were there. And then you were there every time I did it again. You also kinda love it when I fuck you. Not as much as I love fucking you, but you love it." He ended with humor, making her giggle and he thinks it was the first time he heard her laugh since they moved into this apartment. Since they returned to America.

"I'm scared too. My balls are shaking most of the time." He shrugged. "But I know that no matter how bad everything is, I come home and you're here." He intertwined his fingers with hers. "And I'll fix the bathroom wall, and tomorrow we'll buy the biggest fan we can find." He said. "Your autobiography will be called 'Fights and Fucks' by Patrick Zweig," Liana said in response, moving closer to him, laying her head on his chest, and closing her eyes. "You're the muse, Amanda." They both laughed. So maybe everything would be fine, and they could actually keep doing this.

Liana stood in front of the Donaldson family home, taking a deep breath, a bit hesitant to ring the doorbell. She had video calls with Art’s parents every few months. They were interested in her and Patrick’s lives, as expected from people who raised her as if she were their own.

Now that she was back in America, she had no choice but to attend the annual family gathering for her and Art’s birthday. Art. She hadn’t spoken to Art in years. Once, she never thought she’d say such a sentence, but it was the truth. After his grandmother passed away, they both realized they needed to move on with their lives, each in their own direction. She knew Tashi had started coaching him; that’s all her dad talked about for a while. The Tashi Duncan coaching ‘our Art.’ He wasn’t theirs at all. Maybe her dad had taken ownership of him, but the connection between her and Art Donaldson was purely coincidental.

“The doorbell is right there.” She heard his voice and instinctively closed her eyes, briefly passing a hand over her nose. “I know where the doorbell is, Donaldson.” She replied, not daring to turn and look at him. “You can open the door, I live here.” She rolled her eyes at his tone, as if he had won an argument that no one was having with him.

And speaking of arguments, she and Patrick had fought again that morning. He was supposed to come with her. At the last minute, he chickened out. Said he had a training session scheduled without his knowledge. As if she didn’t know Patrick. The thought of sitting around the same table with Art made him tremble with fear, and he preferred to leave her alone. As far as she was concerned, he could shove a racket up his ass if he was desperate to come this week. She didn’t plan on touching him or sleeping in the same bed as him.

They entered the house quietly, Art still behind her, examining what he could see. His heart was beating so fast it was embarrassing. He felt like he was sixteen. It had been three years since he saw Liana, and it felt like losing a limb. Sometimes he wondered if he ever knew her at all. If he hadn’t invented this girl. His dream girl whom he got to hug for exactly two nights. But then his parents would say something about how she was doing. Or about Patrick. Or that they were living together in London now. And then the news that they were moving back to America.

Art wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was almost sure he shed a tear when he heard they were coming back. And he didn’t even know why, because they had been in a relationship for years, and he had been alone for years. But the possibility of seeing her again gave him hope. He didn’t know what kind of hope, but it was there. And it was exciting. Art couldn’t remember the last time he was excited. Maybe when Tashi agreed to coach him.

And now he was sitting next to Liana, by the pool. Like every other summer. As if nothing had changed. As if it was just Liana and him with a cake and two spoons. As if he was used to seeing her with bangs and as if her green summer dress was no different from anything he’d seen her wear throughout their lives. “Tell me something good, and I’ll let you have some of my cake.” They had been in this situation before, but now it was so loaded. “I don’t eat cakes anymore.” She said with existential seriousness, and Art raised an eyebrow. He had no way to argue with that; he didn’t know her eating habits, but he was ready to go to war for this cake. There was nothing Liana loved more than this cake his mom made every year for her.

“I’m 24 already, for two weeks now, unlike you. It's a mediocre age, don’t expect too much.” She said, not letting him sit with those thoughts for too long. She reached for the cake, and he handed her a spoon. “What’s wrong with 24?” Art asked. “You’re old, Art. No one will think it’s cool if you wear your cap backwards. And bills. Paying for electricity sucks.” She shrugged.

“I heard you guys are living in New York…” Art said after a few minutes of silence. “Yeah, we found this great apartment,” she smiled a forced smile. Who was she kidding? Art knew every one of her smiles. No matter how much time had passed. He knew Liana. “In New York.” He said again. “Yes, still there. Nothing changed in the last two seconds.” She replied with sarcasm.

“How’s Patrick?” He asked. He knew he shouldn’t have. But he also wanted to know, and the fact that he didn’t come bothered him. “Everything’s great, he had a training session today that he couldn’t move. He sends his regards.” She said. A bit too quickly. As if she had rehearsed it. Patrick didn’t send him anything. Maybe he wished he’d go to hell and hoped a truck would run him over. He didn’t send him any regards. Art appreciated the lie.

“Tell him thanks. That 24 is a good age for some changes.” Art said, taking a big bite of the cake but not taking his eyes off Liana, who started to blush while rolling her eyes.

He couldn’t believe she was sitting in front of him, blushing. So many possibilities.

Hello :) how are we feeling with that time jump? We're all grown-ups now. Back in America again.  You're more than welcome to talk to me as usual.  taglist is open as well. Hope you are still enjoying this xx 💜

taglist: @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 8

That's it. That's my (late) intro this week.

But in all seriousness, although I was somewhat prepared because of the additional previews that dropped for this episode, I don't think it's really possible to be fully prepared for how something might hit you until you actually see it. And parts of it didn't hit great, lads.

Just know that I'm using the term 'favorite' from a mostly acting perspective for this week and probably next week too.

For my own sanity I'm starting off with Mahasamut's fond husband smile. Mostly because I can and I want to but also because we got see a lot of it this episode. The sweetness that I noted last week is still very present.

I was also very glad to see that Mahasamut has forged a very affectionate bond with Meena.

Mira, Viviana, you've got no business looking disappointed that your plans aren't working out the way you want them to and lamenting about it in voiceover when you keep playing these games with my girly. Things will progress if you're clear!

The sweetneeeessssssss.

Vivi makes the best faces when she's watching Tongrak and Mahasamut be sweet. She can't see the writing on her own wall but she can see it on theirs.

Viviana! It's not a competition! It's not a race! Where's P'Kit someone go get him and make him have a come to jesus with Vivi. She's even got Tongrak telling her that fiction ain't reality and that she needs to use her words.

Tongrak, you are gone for this man.

"Nonsense!" he says. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt anymore, is it, Harry? I do love the sibling energy these two have. They're the Spider-Man meme except they're both clowns calling each other out for not expressing their feelings.

It's Mahasamut sleeping peacefully like the angel he is while Tongrak wrestles with the fact that Vivi is right for me.

I expected a lot more smugness and vitriol from Prin given that she's scheming to destroy Tongrak and has done it with such gusto up until now but it says a lot that even she looks disgusted with what she's doing. She won't even let Jak touch her. Turns out even a hell witch has her limits.

But this man? No such luck.

He's making this face after being asked to destroy his child. Prin offered him five million (and possibly more) to hurt Rak and he looks happy about it. Giddy even. That's sheer malice. Absolutely beyond fucked up.

When your adorable teenage niece roasts you for not having any friends and coming to her for advice.

If "Bet." was a facial expression.

Who's the cat and who's the canary now, Khun Tongrak?

Mahasamut's got cartoon hearts floating around his head and baby girl is so done with him.

*holds on to this moment for a second longer*

I throw roses at Peat's feet every week for how fantastic his face acting is but don't think for a moment that Fort doesn't deserve them too because he absolutely does.

Mut's face was all warmth and smiles when he was alone with Meena, then it became more guarded and cautious when they were approached, then we landed at this when Meena confirmed that the trash in front of them was her grandfather.

Fort's face is naturally very sweet and soft. He's got the opposite of resting bitch face but the fact that he can affect one so well when it's so far removed from what comes naturally to him is all in the eyes.

Look at his gaze. His eyes are normally very sparkly but here they look flat and cold and you can barely see his pupils. These are the dead calculating eyes of a shark and they reveal more hatred than words ever could and that takes TALENT.

I have to give An props for that too because he's also very good at the shark eyes but he's using them in a different way than Fort is.

Look at this screenshot and tell me it doesn't feel like Jak is looking through Mahasamut instead of at him. I can't quite describe how his face emotes but doesn't show actually genuine emotion, it's very impressive and unsettling.

The only time it felt like Jak was actually feeling something was when he looked happy about fucking with Tongrak's life.

Save me, adoring smile. Adoring smile, save me.

VIVIANA! I KNOW YOU DID NOT JUST LET KAIMOOK LEAVE YOUR APARTMENT WITHOUT CHASING AFTER HER TO MAKE SURE SHE KNEW YOU KISSED HER AS YOURSELF!

LOOK AT HER FACE. QUIT FUCKING WITH MY KID AND MAKE YOUR FEELINGS CLEAR.

Microseconds were all it took to shift from the gentle loving look Mahasamut was giving a sleeping Tongrak to silent rage as he recalled the encounter with Jak. Microseconds.

Incredulous disgust. I'd lay bets that we all looked like this when we heard Jak say he wanted to fulfill his role as Tongrak's father.

PEAT HAS MADE THIS EXACT FACE AND I HATE IT. NINA MY BABY YOU'RE SO TALENTED AND IN THIS MOMENT I HATE IT. THEIR EYES ARE EVEN A SIMILAR COLOR AND CATCH THE LIGHT THE SAME WAY.

IhateitIhateitIhateitIhateitIhateit my tiny baby princess this is the look of someone so much older than you IhateitIhateitIhateitIhateitIhateitIhateit

Gone. Besotted. Utterly enamored.

How could anyone look like this

when their child is looking at them like this?

I hate how much Jak is enjoying this and there is absolutely no doubt that he is, it's vile.

It took me a very long time to get Chris Chiu's scream out of my head when I watched Unknown and it's going to take even longer for me to be able to look at An Oliver Poupart without feeling my skin crawl.

To end this on a high note, I'm going to point out that Mahasamut's shirt isn't just a solid color.

It's TEXTURED.

The straits may be dire but if nothing else, at least it looks like I'm clowning in the right direction. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in these weekly writeups!

[purplesannnieee]

Lay All Your Love On Me

A/n: Currently, I'm caught up on all the ep in tdb, though I still haven't got Jiro's personality, so I heavily apologize if I do him wrong @sunncat! This literally doesn't help either bc I haven't watched Demon Slayer, so I don't fully know Shinobu other than some vids I watched from Tik Tok 💀. I hope you enjoy this though! And I really do apologize for when you read this, it isn't how you thought it would go TT (I also apologize the fact that it's a bit rushed(?)), 1.4k words, somewhat grammar checked, or technically partially proof read? goodnight cheese

summary: as a second year at darkwick academy, you used to be under vagastrom before transferring to mortkranken for unknown reasons. while yuri's glad that it isn't just him and jiro who are ghouls, jiro's rather curious to why specifically mortkranken. warnings: mentions of death, erm, fem!reader that's similar to shinobu kocho, shawty, I don't know shit about anything medical, so to whomever reads this that is way more of an expert in this, I'm so sorry, if I potentially make you pissed in any way, mentions of self-harm(through poison), reader makes jiro's heart go boom boom boom boom boom (i hope someone gets what i'm referring to), oh, and vague ahh mention of alan, I think jiro might be a lil bit ooc, yeah, he is, mf be peeking a lil bit, but more out of admiration than erm, nasty boy thought reasons, oh fuck, this is a bit angsty, whoops, poor yuri's a bit traumatized

Life always managed to piss you off. You used to express it too, though not anymore really. You truly did enjoy your stay at Vagastrom, however, you had your reasons as to why you transferred to Mortkranken. Despite the captain hoping you would open up, you wouldn't budge. This was something you would rather keep to yourself. Well, if only that stupid Masterpiece News, whoever it was, decided to leak about your sister dying from the Clash. Despite wanting to murder whoever did it, you figured that would be for another time. For now, you were more focused on finding a way to kill the bastard that killed your sister in the first place.

Before you knew it, class had ended. Admittedly, despite being in the same year as both Yuri and Jiro, you didn't always share the same classes with them. Well, it's not like you could do much about that. You did have different goals from them after all. Granted, while you had the same effort and energy for yours just like Yuri's, you considered it more noble than yours. And for the most part, he didn't seem to care much about it.

Well, maybe not upfront. However, instead, Jiro would ask you as the two of you would sometimes walk to class from Mortkranken's dormitory. "Y/n, Yuri wants to see us," Jiro said, as you looked up to the taller male. You were inclined to not smile, but you simply nodded your head. "Where at?" You asked cheerfully, as you passed by some people. Some of them, whisper, confused as to how you could manage to be in the presence of "Frankenstein". Especially with some of your former house members, which you couldn't help but scoff. For a bunch of delinquents, were they seriously that scared of a rumor? Not that you remembered much of the clash, considering before it happened, you were cursed to fall asleep, the "Sleeping Beauty" curse as they called it, and while you weren't sure if you were actually kissed, nobody would talk about it, just that you were cured from it.

You even tried to get Yuri to tell you how you got cured, yet for someone who brags, he quite literally shut up about it. ". . . y/n?" Jiro asked as you snapped out of your thoughts. You hadn't realized how close the taller male was to your face until now, trying not to react much, before letting out a laugh. "Ah, sorry about that. Just some thinking," you mused, looking up at him. "Mind repeating where at again?" You asked as the taller male looked at you, before shrugging, "Back at the dormitory," he said, as you let out a "huh".

As the two of you were walking, Jiro looked at you, though you didn't pay attention much to it. While he wasn't as curious, he did recall Yuri wanting him to ask you your reasons as to why you switched to Mortkranken specifically. Granted, you were as great when it came to researching as your strength, which sometimes Yuri would ask you to help Jiro out; though that was for whenever there was an anomaly that needed to be captured. It was quite simple. Whenever there was a strong anomaly, you would infect it with poison through your katana, while Jiro would use his chainsaw.

Before you knew it, the two of you arrived at the dormitory, as you entered inside first. Looking around, you felt confused, noticing that Yuri wasn't there. "Is Yuri perhaps downstairs?" You asked as you turned around to look at Jiro. The taller man shrugged, before speaking. "No, he's still in class," he said blatantly, your eyes confused, though you still decided to politely smile at him. "So you lied to me…huh, I would've never expected that from you," you said, as you took a seat. You had to admit, that while you didn't know Jiro fully well, you were comfortable with him. Probably a bit more compared to Yuri, though you understood that Yuri had good intentions, even if he were well…prideful and arrogant.

Probably a bit more compared to Yuri, though you understood that Yuri had good intentions, even if he were well…prideful and arrogant. You watched Jiro as he looked at you, before nodding. "Yes," he said, as the corner of your smile twitched. How annoying. "What made you decide to do that?" Your question made him glance at you temporarily, as he grabbed a few tools. "Simple, I'm doing a health inspection. Yuri said it's been long overdue," he said, as you frowned, before sighing, as you decided not to fight over it.

You watched Jiro as he looked at you, before nodding. "Yes," he said, as the corner of your smile twitched. How annoying. "What made you decide to do that?" Your question made him glance at you temporarily, as he grabbed a few tools. "Simple, I'm doing a health inspection. Yuri said it's been long overdue," he said, as you frowned, before sighing, as you decided not to fight over it. "Ha ha ha ha! You're acting like a cat now," he laughed, as your eye slightly twitched. A cat? The thought of you being compared to a cat made you feel a bit more irritated, still trying to keep ahold of your emotions. "I'm not so sure about that," you let out a laugh, trying not to look affected. Jiro didn't say much, though he simply smiled, before stopping for a moment. "Ah, that reminds me. Could you change real quick?" He asked as you were close to snapping. Instead, you gave him a smile, agreeing, before waiting until he turned around before you turned around as well, changing out of your uniform.

While you were preoccupied with changing, Jiro wasn't the type to really peak. And yet, he was curious as to your body. Well, he supposed that thought would occur since he was the one that woke you up from the curse. Slowly, he glanced, admiring your body. It was rather smooth compared to his, though to be fair, you seemed like the type to take care of yourself. And yet, you seemed a bit more frail than when he first met you. Your personality truly did have changed from the past two years the more that he thought of it.

Noticing you were almost done changing, he looked away, curious as to why out of all houses to transfer to, why Mortkranken? "Alright, let's get this over with," you said, as you watched him take out a few tools. He took out a stethoscope, checking your heart rate. "Heart rate, 80 bpm," he noted, before grabbing a pressure gauge. He placed it inside your arm, checking it. "Blood pressure, 89/59," he said to himself, noting that as well. Before you knew it, he did a few things, before finishing, as he placed the tools away.

"Have you been consuming Foxglove?" For once since being in Mortkranken, a shocked gaze appeared in your eyes, gazing in his red eyes. You were confused at first before it finally connected. "Is this why you wanted to do a health check on me?" You asked, dropping your smile. You had to admit, you hadn't expected for Jiro to figure it out. Though then again, his knowledge was in some ways greater than yours; which didn't surprise you as much. "So you did," he stared at you, before frowning. "There isn't any reason for you to. Seems like at least you took small pieces, but it's affecting your health," he said, as the corner of your lips turned down.

"That's none of your fucking business," you said, before hearing Jiro beginning to laugh. The fact that he laughed was both confusing, infuriating, and yet beautiful, actually, you were going to stop yourself from there. "I missed that bluntness," Jiro said, managing to calm himself, as he smiled at you. Before you knew it, you could feel your face turn red, scoffing. "Shut up! You're being awfully weird now," you turned your face away from him. You didn't like how you could feel your heart beating fast, as you could feel cold hands on your face, before gently looking back now at Jiro.

While you wouldn't admit it, if you were asked who out of all the students at Darkwick was pretty, Jiro would honestly be the only one you would think of. "Y/n, I may not know why you're deciding to poison yourself. But, whatever problems you're facing, please, don't. In fact, lay all your love on me," he said, as you could feel his face closer to yours. ". . . May I kiss you?" He asked, before being toppled down on the ground, as you kissed him. You let go for a moment, looking at him. "I'll be Frankenstein's girlfriend," you said before the two of you kissed. Unfortunately, neither of you heard Yuri's steps. "The two of you! Go kiss somewhere else!" He screamed, a bit horrified, as the two of you stopped to look at him, before laughing, leaving the captain more frustrated, as the two of you eventually went to your room. Unfortunately, both of you had to go back for Jiro's medication.

[jbird-the-manwich]

I was talkin to a friend about covid yesterday and like... I haven't seen a lot about it lately but talking about it got me thinking about how absolutely fucked up and freaky, in hindsight, my last bout of covid was, like... if you've not had it/been asymptomatic, I love that for you, but like... seriously. do still be doing the masking if you can, avoid crowded places with poor ventilation as you're able, try to keep a handle on not letting strangers breathe directly on you, etc. I got the shit last year, before thanksgiving, KEPT it till this spring, (long covid) and it fucking sucks.

Like. It SUCKS. it SCARY sucks. I had nausea, chest pain, tachycardia, extreme weakness and fatigue... like... I had OG-covid, back in 2020, and another couple bouts in the years since then, but that last one? that particular Covid was not fucking playing with me.

That shit tried to kill me. I had a fever so high I was having delirium. I didn't experience any weird horniness, like in the meme, personally, but I did have weird SCARY neurological symptoms, I was so nauseated I wanted to die, the fever (which was recurrent, and intermittent, at 104f, for *months* off an on) had me acting fucking weird, I'd get nauseus, then super aggressive and fighty, had episodes of extreme confusion, not being able to remember simple words and phrases, (I don't mean standard adhd either I mean I could barely talk coherently at times, when I wasnt fucking losing my shit rambling about nonsense) random crying spells, tremors, inability to stay awake, It affected my memory, my ability to walk, and still affects my basic levels of strength and ability to do shit.

for real the shit is serious. I went to the hospital and my tachycardia was so bad the nurse pulled my sister aside (who is not authorized to receive any information, btw) and told her not to let me leave the hospital because they thought I was going to have a heart attack. Cuz my heart rate was so fucked from the fever. I was fucking holding on to walls and shit, could barely walk, I was taking phenergan so consistently it straight up stopped working, and I'm negative, now, but like... I lost 20 lbs by the end of it. No shit. from 151 to 129. and I'm still not entirely better.

I'm still having memory issues, I barely remember the last year aside from bits and pieces, and the fatigue is fucking unreal. like. I was *stout*, pre-covid, and had a pretty solid vocabulary, and now I feel like half my brain is missing. my energy levels are on the upswing, but that's taken months, and I'm still not half as strong as I was before I got that last round last year, so like... I know not a lot of people are masking, and very few people are still talking about it, out and about, but like... seriously. it is real. It is fucking debilitating. it can affect your goddamn brain.

Do try to avoid getting that shit. I would not recommend it. As diseases go? It's a total bitch. wear a mask if you can. I was a *very* fit, quite strong 30-something, built like a brick shit house, and I lost almost *all* of my muscle mass, and it feels like I got *extremely fucking dumber*. I had projects I was working on, and I don't remember how they were supposed to go together. in the span of less than a year, cuz fuckin covid set up in my (vaccinated) body and was like "oh, I think I'll stay". So yeah. not a hot news topic, right now, anymore, but... for real. It is still there, and it will fuuuuuuuuuck your whole shit up. I am *still* having to have blood panels run, pretty much every doctor I see is just like. "huh. Well that's... pretty shitty..." And I mean im very lucky. I'm alive and mostly undamaged, barring a couple things, but yeah. It is for real still a thing and will totally wreck a whole ass year, if it takes a mind to, so... try to avoid it, where you can. Get vaccinated, if you're not, wear a mask, if able, and don't listen to the people that aren't taking your safety into consideration in their rationale for not taking it seriously as a potentially debilitating disease, particularly if you have any kind of pre-existing risk factors, including previous covid infections. I don't wanna scare anybody but like... the shit is real and it will lay you low, is, I guess, is the point I'm trying to make.

[skeletalgoats]

Could I request for a !sub! Horangi x !Dom! Reader? Here me out :3

Horangi was acting too cocky on how he would be better in bed than you.

He obviously ment it as a joke but you took it a bit too seriously..

Then there he was.

Legs wide open as he whimpered, moaned and whine as you were there inbetween his legs teasing him using your fingers

Adding a finger after another,

As he begged you countless times to cum.

"Better than me?"

Summary: Horangi teased you constantly about how he would be way better than you in bed, but he quickly regretted those words when you had enough

Pairings: Horangi x GN!reader

Warnings: Blowjob, handjob, edging, masturbation, and you being a dick 😒

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long I was distracted with trying to work on some male reader fics 😭 also I decided to give Horangi some Y/N energy because I was in a goofy mood and needed to giggle at something ;P ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He really only meant it as a joke.

"Please...please I'm sorry I'm sorry...I didn't mean it..."

But you most definitely didn't take it as one.

Earlier today, Horangi began teasing you about how he would be so much better in bed than you are.

"You probably couldn't even make me cum once~"

"I could have you screaming my name in seconds~"

"Maybe you're just upset that I can easily draw such noises out of your pretty lips~"

But now there he was, his hands tied to his back with his legs forced wide open for you, as he made all sorts of desperate noises for you.

He would whimper, moan, groan, and let out little gasps and squeaks while you ran you tongue over his throbbing, red, and sensitive cock.

"Please...I take it back...Let me cum please I swear I'll be good for you, I-I swear...please"

He begged, but immediately stopped once you took all of him into your mouth, gliding your head up and down.

"Oh, fuck! Please...." He whimpered, throwing his head back.

He loved the feeling of your hot, wet mouth around his shaft.

"I-I'm gonna cum...I'm gonna cum!"

"Horangi, don't you dare cum yet.Don't you DARE."

But it was too late.

"Please....Please no I'm sorry I didn't mean to..I-I swear it was an accident-"

"Shut up." You interrupted him as you grabbed him and tossed him back onto the bed.

You heard a desperate whimper coming from him, pleading that you don't do whatever you're about to do, but you didn't care.You wanted him to learn his lesson.

You grabbed his dick, and started to jack him off at a fast pace.In return for this action you got Horangi bucking his hips up, whimpering.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck please please please...~"

Soon he was close.Really close.

Just as he's about to cum, you let go, watching him cry out as he realizes that his release isn't gonna come easy.

"no no no why would you do that?!"

Tears were streaming down his face.He was sobbing.He was desperate.Very desperate.But then again, he basically asked for this, so that's his fault.

You grabbed his dick again, and just like before, didn't let him cum.

Over and over again, you did the same thing.You grabbed his cock, stroked it until he was close, but never let him cum.

Until he couldn't take it anymore.

He with a scream, Horangi kicked you back and snapped the ropes that tied him back.

"I can't do this I need it!I need it so fucking bad!"

And with that, you watched as he grabbed his own cock and jerked himself off, followed up by whimpers and moans leaving his lips.

He was on his back, legs spread out infront of you while his hands glided up and down around his dick fast.It was one of the most pornographic things you have ever seen before.

Within a couple of moments, Horangi cums the hardest he ever has.His semen spurts out from the air to his own stomach.

"Oh fuck yeah, that felt good..."

You said nothing, you sat there speechless from what you just saw.

Horangi may not have realized it, but it turns out he still managed to find a way to leave you unsatisfied and flustered, even when he's unaware of his surroundings and what he's doing.

[iknowicanbutwhy]

a question about full cast! when they're.. acting like the rest of the party??? who's who? (as in, 'the FIRST siffrin is odile, the SECOND siffrin is mirabelle,' etc - completely random picks there and not intended as actual guesses) what's up with bonnie-loop?

or is it just Rule Of Funny?

OKAY so I forgot to tag a post, but like, This Post is very relevant to your questions!

GETTING ALL THE WAY UP TO 36 LOOPS IS LIKE. BOTH THE WORST CASE SCENARIO AND AN INCREDIBLY DEMORALIZING EXPERIENCE. It was just too fucking funny not to draw the Universe breaking under the strain of this Black Hole of a person.

Which is to say!! It's said it takes a village to raise a Siffrin but nobody there is playing any particular role at that point. There's no way to tell anyone apart beyond "A Loop" and "The Siffrin," "a New (hopeful) Star" or "an Old (jaded) Star." When you become one of the many, many failures, and the Universe won't let you walk away, you just. That's all that matters anymore. You can't even take yourself seriously, let alone those around you.

BUT!!! Say we keep it to Four Loops, a much more manageable number. I mentioned in the previous post somewhat about how they don't differentiate very well - except for mini-loop, who was fortunate enough to at least look different - until they all decide on what role they're going to take up in their silly little one-person play. They just Don't intrude on each other's lines, on each other's characters, too caught up in their own - unless they're being Siffrin, just to tease him. They're as happy as they can be, having found a way to be.. well, not themselves, per se. But not a group of failed Siffrins. Not all the same doomed narrative. And in a way, they get to experience the people they love again.

When they have the energy to keep up the act, they talk differently, they walk differently, they focus on different things, and it's enough to tell one from the other half the time. And they'll keep going with this until it inevitably gets to them, just how much they're still. Worse versions of someone else.

Oh, but mini-bonnie-loop was made that short both because they worded their wish weird trying to find a loophole (tee hee) and also because the Universe was like. I'm gonna make this really funny. And well if the Universe is making them out like they could replace Siffrin's entire cast, who are they not to follow?

[little-annie]

Okay, so, with Dustin and Robin checked off the list, now they're left to tell the remaining members of The Party.

El, Max, Lucas, Mike and Will.

And truthfully, they aren't that worried anymore.

Although their telling Robin and Dustin didn't go as planned, neither time was traumatic or generally all that eventful. So really, sitting here in the Harrington house once again with five sets of eyes on them, they aren't as nervous as they once figured they'd be. Sure the whole coming out thing is still scary, but they honestly feel like they don't need to be so scared anymore.

Dustin and Robin are sitting there with knowing expressions; impatiently waiting, exuding some form of guard dog energy like they'll pounce if anyone has anything ill mannered to say.

But again, they aren't very concerned about something like that happening.

They're good kids.

They're, their good kids.

So, they're sitting close, thighs touching, Eddie's arm around the back of the couch, occasionally playing with Steve's hair. No one's really paying them any mind. Yeah, maybe they get the occasional glance from Will or the rare one from Mike, but other than that, the boys are just bickering about something D&D related while Max and El whisper and giggle about lord knows what.

Robin's waiting and so is Dustin. They know today's plan and with that they've been occasionally glancing at the pair, waiting for the reveal.

They do actually have a plan for today, believe it or not. It's nothing spectacular but it's a simple action that's sure to get the job done.

See, Steve's not very good with words and well, Eddie tends to be a little too forward, a little too vulgar or a little too animated and in a situation like this, they just need something simple.

And simple is Steve turning to Eddie, nosing against his cheek and placing a gentle peck on his boyfriend's now rosy skin.

The moment it happens the mounting screaming match around them ceases, all bickering is suddenly silent, forgotten, dead quiet.

There's eyes on them now and when Eddie returns the affection with a smiling kiss to Steve's cheek, everyone's jaw drops.

Well, except for Robin's and Dustin's. They're absolutely beaming with pride.

And after a beat, then two, then three, it's an eruption of overlapping questions and statements coming not so quietly from the group in front of them.

"Fucking finally"

"I knew it! Told you Mike, hand it over, ten bucks!"

"You…You can….But Steve dated Nancy…"

"It's called Bi-Sexual you dumbass. You can like both"

"...both"

"Congratulations!"

It's just short of utter chaos in the room. Well, except for two. Will's quiet, very quiet actually and red in the cheeks, glancing between Mike and the pair cuddled up on the couch. Whereas Mike's uncharacteristically quiet, only whispering words, staring down into the carpet, flushing white and looking a little green around the gills.

Then of course, amongst everything else, Max has to pipe up, shouting and cackling from her seat across the room, "Just don't get Steve pregnant!"

Well, and that seems to set the mood.

Once again the room erupts with sheer volume, though this time, in laughter. The kids are all cackling, Robin almost immediately in tears, wiping her eyes, pointing mockingly at Steve as he sits there in horror that that seems to be everyone's reaction to this situation, 'Don't get Steve pregnant.'

"What about Eddie! Huh-" Steve sits upright, hands up in offence, "What about 'don't get Eddie pregnant'?"

The volume in the room dies down, but hardly. Everyone's wiping tears from their eyes, trying to catch their breath or choking back their still bubbling laughter when Robin adds in her two cents, "Steve. Babe, you're obviously the mother in this situation."

"And Eddie's the dad." Dustin plainly states like it's a well known fact… and maybe it is, by the way everyone around them nods in all seriousness.

Mildly offended, brow furrowed, Steve can feel Eddie lean in closer, lips hovering over his ear as he whispers, smirk evident in his tone, "Oh, am I your Daddy, Stevie?"

And good Christ, this isn't the time or the place for shit like this. Steve can feel his cheeks flush and a very unwanted knot coil in his gut before he slaps Eddie away and grumbles through grit teeth, "Shut up, you know we don't do that."

Eddie only snickers, falling back into his previous position on the couch, giving Steve's thigh a quick squeeze in the process.

"I don't care if you two are just fooling around or you're in love, but whatever that,-" Max motions to where Steve has pulled a pillow into his lap and has flushed a deep shade of red," -is, is not happening anywhere around me. Keep it in your pants when you're not in the bedroom. Gross." She grimaces at her own words before adding, "But like, congratulations I guess. We love you both"

Everyone nods along. Mike's still very quiet, nearly burning holes into the side of Will's head with his eyes as everyone carries on with their questioning.

"So like, what is this really? Are you dating?"

"Are you in love?"

"You haven't done it on this chair have you?"

And the questions kept coming, to which the boys answered to the best of their ability before getting interrupted by another stream of inquiries.

It'd been thirty minutes before everyone settled down, resuming their previous conversations like the reveal of Steve and Eddie's relationship wasn't a big deal.

But they suppose, maybe it wasn't. Maybe they did an alright job at parenting these kids part time for them to be actual decent human beings. They're in a safe space, surrounded by people who love and respect them. Maybe they didn't have to be so scared in the first place.

The only thing Steve has to be scared of is his apparent new nickname in the hands of one Dustin Henderson,

"Hey Mom, can we go to the arcade?"

[wilderness-of-thoughts]

Before:

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, the moon was shining through the curtains outside the window. And in front of you on the table was a miniature version of Gojo. You listened almost carefully to what he had to tell you. About how he was on a mission to the Old Temple in Kyoto. Routine. A few curses and a few bigger ones were disturbing the peace of the area. Nothing he couldn't handle.

"... And then the light and everything got big." He finished by raising his little hands up, his tail wagging nervously and his ears twitching. "I don't know what curse did this because I was sure I had gotten rid of all of them and none of them would have had that kind of power. And how the fuck did that damn thing get through my barrier?!" He was thinking more out loud than to you. He put his hand to his chin in a thoughtful gesture. "hey, y/n, are you even listening to me?" He looked at you seriously now.

And here we have a problem. Did you listen to him at all? Well, yes, and in other circumstances you probably would have cared, but... Those eyes twinkling in the dark, that fluffy tail that seems as soft as dandelions, those little cat ears that move nervously with his head, and that body of his. Tiny, tiny, adorable.

"yes.. but now I'm fighting with myself because I have a great urge to squeal like a teenager, take you in my arms and cuddle you." You said honestly, clenching your hands on your T-shirt with your remaining willpower. "Stop being so cute or I'm losing." You warned.

"don't even think about it. I may have shrunk, but I'm still Gojo Satoru. The strongest sorcerer.... Hey, are you laughing?!" He growled at you and his tail stood up. Your eyes sparkled with tears of suppressed laughter.

"No!" You lied.

"yes! You laugh at my misfortune! Fuck y/n get a grip and be serious."

"I can't believe those words are coming out of your mouth." You commented, reaching into your pocket for phone. Gojo was too busy dwelling on his fate to pay any attention to it at the moment.

"I am always serious!" He hiss at you. Wait what?! He made a hiss like a cat! No, that's something to remember, if you had any concerns before, they're completely gone now. You aimed the camera at him, enchanted. "Put that away, this instant. I warn you. One photo and...-" Snap. At that moment you felt a sharp pain in the hand that held the phone. It was perforated and completely unusable. Gojo used his cursed energy, you knew it even though you couldn't see it.

"Ouch! Hey! This was supposed to be for posterity!"

"Let posterity kiss my ass" He hiss again.

"Just imagine, in a few decades someone will want to write a PhD thesis on the life and work of the famous Gojo Satoru! This is for documentation." You tried to stroke his ego.

"so let them finish their sentence and move on to the next chapter!"He exhaled loudly through his nose, crossing his arms over his chest.

"ok." You put your phone down, it's good that you have your progress in Genshin saved in the cloud, otherwise you would probably despair more than he is now. "But you know, it's hard to take you seriously in this state." You weren't even concerned about his shrinkage anymore, but rather about the fact that it was he himself that shrunk and not his clothes. At the moment, he was wearing only a headband that was clumsily wrapped around his entire body. As if he was trying to hide in it. In response to your words, he flattened his ears and lowered his head, flushed with shame, anger, and humiliation. You smiled wryly. "But hey, I'm here! Don't give up, little one."

"I'm not tiny!"

"Now you are." Gojo growled again. You sighed, looking away from him. You need to gather your thoughts. Focus y/n! Focus! His silence was unusual."Okay, so let's summarize. You are shrunken. You can use your power. You don't know what shrunk you." Gojo nodded, glancing at you, his tail moving slightly, pleased that you were finally starting to take the subject seriously."what do you say we go back there and.... check the place out?"

"That might be a problem," he grumbled. You tilted head to the side in surprise, sending him a questioning look. Gojo ran his fingers through his hair in irritation. "I blew up ...." He whispered.

"What?"

"I blew up this damn place when I discovered I couldn't become normal!!!" He screamed looking at you. He knew he did wrong but he can't turn back time.

".... And how did you get back here?" You were strangely calm. His tail curled under him, and his ears flattened back again. He didn't answer your question, he simply teleported from the table to the couch next to you. Oh, yes. You forgot about that. You sighed heavily. You wanted to calm him down so you instinctively placed your hand on his back, there was no barrier, you stroked his head with your thumb feeling his tail on your skin in nervous movements. Just like you would pet a little cat in a rag.

"No one can know about this." He spoke quietly, calmer than before. You agreed with him without saying anything. He was speaking out of shame, but also if anyone found out what happened to him, if the elders, heck! His enemies knew he would have a much bigger problem now... Heh... A bigger problem.

"so why didn't you call someone better? You know, Nanami, Yaga, even Megumi."

Gojo didn't know why. You were the weakest, had practically no power, and weren't the best at being ordinary either. A clumsy, indecisive, emotional girl. Despite this, despite all the years you worked for him, despite the fact that you knew each other even before Geto...

Why the fuck did he call you? Gojo lifted his head to look at your face. You seemed so different and yet familiar as stared at him with attention, curiosity and... Care. Gojo smiled slightly, for the first time since he became so small. He only now felt your warm hand on his back. He trusted you, you never betrayed him, you never let him down, you never said no. He gave you increasingly irrationally stupid orders just to test your endurance. When will you crack? When will you have enough? When will the weakest link give up and leave?

Never.

Even when he deliberately humiliated you with his whims, when he teased you, you never left. Yes, there were tears, words spoken in anger, he saw you break down, but you never left.

"Because it's your job to clean up my mess" He replied with a cocky smile, clearly calmer. He watched as you wrinkled your nose in dissatisfaction with the answer, as you twisted your lips as you thought of a text to get back at him. He loved it. And you probably would have thrown him some sarcastic line if he hadn't purred. He didn't even realize it. A quiet purr escaped his body, and you heard it, and then...

"Holy shit, Gojo! Are you purring?! Yiiik! Again!"You chirped, taking him in both hands, careful not to hurt him, and brought him to your cheek in delight.

"NO!" Gojo pressed his hands against your cheek, trying to push himself away, yet he purred quietly, so quietly that he hoped you wouldn't notice. Maybe it won't be so bad? Gojo felt that he did the right thing by turning to you for help. When this is over he'll buy your phone back, but for now for his own safety he'd rather you don't have the camera in your hand.

Next:

[rreskk]

Dear ol' Trev

I'm experimenting with heavier topics, like smut. So if you're sensitive to the subject of "BDSM", don't read! I'll be answering requests soon enough, thank you for being patient :)

Summary: Trevor was untamed and aggressive. There was only one way to force him out of that toxic mentality.

TW: -heavy smut (BDSM) -Violence (Death threats)

Pairings: Dom!Fem reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 2971

For the past three days, he has been unrightfully slaughtering every flaw he deceives, and the judgement has been clashed onto you. So for the past three days, you’ve been verbally insulted with every fibre of his body. Reason complied? Unknown. You haven’t recalled doing anything wrong, or anything to cause this spike of anger. Alas, you have been nothing but idle for the past days. He hasn’t made the effort to conversate, fuck, treat you with dignity. Ever since he came home from Los Santos, he’s been ugly and obscene.

You’ve tried to argue against this sudden aggression, challenging his authority, and it would get physical. Right now, he was more than physical. You had lost your temper and called him every name under the sun and he was provoked beyond belief. His face was red, eyes filled with angry tears, fists clenched as his nails would pierce the skin underneath. Trevor stood an arms-length away from you, his eyes burning daggers into yours.

“Say that again.” His voice hoarsely demanded.

“You heard me.”

“You little shit.” Trevor croaked, his vexation becoming hostile.

You raised an eyebrow, “What’s the problem? I don’t see a lie.”

His lips twitched into a snarl and he grabbed the collar of your shirt, threatening to toy you around. His neck and arm veins were pulsing. You wondered if he strained anymore, they may burst.

“Keep your mouth shut. You’re pissing me off, big time.”

“You’ve been pissing me off for the last 72 hours.”

“You don’t say?” He cruelly hissed, “And you repay that by insulting me, [y/n]? You think it’s funny abusing dear ol’ Trev?”

“Cut that creepy shit out. You’re disgusting – “

“Ohhh… Complaints, complaints, complaints. You always FUCKING complain.”

“Maybe you should take the fucking hint and MAN UP!” You shouted in his face, “The moment your revolting scent arrived at my door after a week of no calls or texts, you had the audacity to operate and belittle me? Like what? I was some slave? Oh yeah, what a lovely man dear ol’ Trev is. What a lovely cunt!”

“THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?”

“Just get out, seriously – “

Trevor pushed you back violently as he threw his arm over the dining table, all the plates and clutter falling onto the floor with a big crash. You glared at him after finding your balance.  He maintained that deep scowl, eyes not leaving yours as it went silence, only the background noise of glass crunching under his work boots.

“How fucking dare you.” You heaved, the energy you have left slowly running out.

“You gonna complain again, sugar?” Trevor tongued as you saw the strands of his saliva spit with vemon.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“I know you,” He continued, “You wouldn’t last a week without me.”

“Me? Really? Please! That’s utter bullshit.”

“Yeah… Really.” At this point, Trevor was breathing down on you, his arms locking you against the wall behind. He began to smirk at how trapped you were. He enjoyed seeing you covered in his shadow with that nasty look in your eye.

You tried to lean away, despite his nudges. His hands began leaving achy bruises on your wrists, them cruel fingers spreading his disease while you avoided the discourse of his intoxicating breath. It smelt like death. Your throat numbed at the inhale of his mucky scent, and before you knew it, he lowered his head and began to combatively whisper slander in your ear.

“I ain’t leaving, prick. I am not leaving this place until it’s fuckin’. You hear me?” His hot breath antagonising your neck.

“Get off me, Trevor.”

“No, I think you like it.”

“You fucking pervert!”

His voice rumbled, “Mmm… Maybe I am. Maybe I’m just a burden, a pervert, a creep. Maybe I just wanna bash your fuckin’ head in? What do you think about that, baby? Sounds good?”

You striked his cheek suddenly, his frame falling back at the impact. Trevor held his cheek with a disturbed expression, his eyes wide. Your hand stung with succession as you gave him a gnarly grin.

“I think that’s a great idea, Trevor,” You said, approaching him, “Maybe I should bash your fucking head in,” Your left hand rapidly grasped his jaw before he could fight back, “And you’ll definitely enjoy it.”

“The fuck? –“ He whinged when you grabbed his neck and jaw.

“What’s the matter? It’s not nice being treated like a dog, isn’t it?” Your other hand jolted forwards, hitting his cheek again where a small cry of pain left his lips.

“Fuckin’ stop!”

“You are going to pick up every shard of glass on this very floor. If you don’t, I’m kicking your ass goodbye. You got that?” You shouted in his flushed face.

Trevor threw your hands off, a look of disgust painting his face. He studied you up and down, a sense of uncertainty behind those unstable eyes.

“You’re taking the shitting piss, [y/n]. I’m not doing that.” He mocked.

“You are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Really?” You licked your teeth, “I think you are.”

He sent you a hefty glare, “The fuck are you playing?”

“You want to play?”

“What? – “

“Okay, Trevor. If you really wanna play.” Within a second, Trevor felt his trousers being torn off as he cried out in surprise. His hands automatically covered his bulge but you slapped them away, your fists threatening to interrogate his crotch.

“[y/n], fuck off!” He demanded, fighting against your hands.

“No, I think you like it.” You reflected his words from before, smirking.

“Stop! – “ His voice wobbled with vulnerability. He bellowed forwards and tried to pull his trousers up until his underwear was confiscated as well. Trevor gritted his teeth, seeing you enjoy the struggle he was going through when his cock was on display. He noticed you were grinning at his exposure, feeling fragile and insecure, “C’mon – this ain’t funny. Fuck off!”

“Awh…” You teased and allowed him to scatter, his trousers clumsily being buckled up again. He did not look happy. Trevor’s nostrils flared as he stared at you with raw fury.

“You think this is funny?” He shouted, “You’re a fuckin’ cunt!”

“Easy…”

“EASY? YOU TELLING ME TO BE EASY?”

“You always liked showing yourself off. What’s so bad about it now?” You questioned, smirking up at him.

Trevor stumbled backwards, his feet stomping on the shards of glass that he littered. One piece made a crunching sound from under his foot. He gazed up to see if you had noticed, biting his lip when you stared heavily; watching his every move like a vulture feasting on it’s future prey, the impulsive climax barely containing itself.

His lips snarled when you spoke again, “I heard it – you heard it.”

“I ain’t cleaning.” He responded, crossing his arms.

“Why not?”

“Because I ain’t. You can’t make me.”

“Oh, okay.” You hummed and dismissed the conversation, turning your back.

Trevor smirked when he thought you backed away from the argument. He uncrossed his arms and whistled, singing your name as he placed his foot over a broken frame of you and him. Once he had gained your attention, Trevor licked his lips and pressed down, breaking the picture even more – clearing wanting a strong reaction, as he found it enjoyable.

You felt something stab your gut when he pathetically destroyed the only good picture of you both. And he smiled after it broke. It made you distressed, furious, hated. He stood there carefree, his belt still loose from your stunt beforehand, making him look like a golden stud. A golden stud you wanted to hammer.

“Whoops.” He winked, rotating away from the living room before a hard-hitting hand clenched his shoulder, launching him backwards and onto the rumble of glass. Trevor cried out, his skin scratched and prickled by the mess he made.

You stood over him and stared down; no sign of pleasure nor happiness. He cursed your name as he tried to stand up from the pile of shards but your foot sent him flying down again. It crushed his lower stomach, his breathing becoming unhinged and erratic. Extending weight onto your foot, his hands wrapped around your ankle, begging for you to get off.

“Fuckin’ get off!” He pled repeatedly.

Of course, it didn’t convince you. Your foot dug into his torso until he was threatening to lose his ability to breathe. Waiting for the moment Trevor’s eyes would portray the seconds left of his near-death experience, you released the pressure, and he frantically crawled to his knees, wailing for some air. He mercilessly wailed, believing he was on the road to death by your strangulation.

“Why are you crying?” You degraded, grabbing his hair and forcing his knees to kneel against the glassy carpet.

Trevor panted. His head being forced to look up, staring directly towards your thighs. He didn’t say anything but whined when you’d occasionally tug his hair, trying to pressure some rise out of him.

“C’mon… You’re feeling shameful now, aren’t you?”

He shook his head, still being stubborn.

“You like being on your hands and knees, Trevor?”

He whined again.

“Why don’t you get the fuck up?” You smirked.

“I hate you,” He finally mewled, “I’ll kill you!”

“Get the fuck up then.”

Trevor struggled, trying to use his weak arms but you only pushed him back down with a laugh.

“[y/n]!” He snapped.

“What?”

Your fingers tickled his scalp, falling down his back, reaching the hem of his trousers as he remained on his all fours, having a hard time keeping balance due to the amount of scratches and impaled glass in his skin. Nonetheless, your fingers tickled him. Trevor felt his trousers being pulled down again, and he dropped his head, whispering profound insults that definitely included the words “evil”, “witch”, and “bitch.” But you didn’t care. You waited until his ass was exposed and his cock dangling between his legs. He was shaky, unsure of what you’re about to do. He wanted to stand up, but your grip on him only tightened and his knees were too weak. Did he beg you to stop? No. So you only made it harder for him.

Very hard.

“Fuck… The fuck you doing to me?” Trevor murmured in pain.

“If you wanna ruin my home, you can be ruined with it.” You said before kicking your shoe against his exposed cock, making him jump and cry out in agony.

“FUCK!”

“You like that?” His whole arousal was being beaten with your shoe again, the repetitive kicks destructing Trevor’s last ounce of his aggression.

“FUCK – I HATE YOU! – “ He’d cry, tears oozing down his red cheeks as you kicked him from behind again.

“You deserve so much more hate,” You huffed – his cock and balls being left swollen and bruised, “I’m giving you the bare minimum of it. You should thank me, Trevor.”

It ended with his face crazing against the glass-scattered floor, his cheek embedding deep wounds as he wails from the pain of his genitals being physically abused. He attempted to cover his cock but you slapped his hands away, kicking him one last time before giving him a minor break.

He collapsed, body sprawled out.

The glass was ignored now. You stepped over him, your shadow overcasting the menacing danger of your touch. Trevor, with his eyes closed, felt the shade and spoke through his condition, his voice crackled and fable – like an emotional child begging for some hugs after a traumatic nightmare.

“I’m not thanking… I’m not! Not thanking – you! Kick me again, I fuckin’ dare you! I’m never – FUCK!” You obeyed his request and pressed the soul of your shore against his manhood, crushing until it went numb.

“You never give up, baby…”

He whimpered with is nose stuffed in the carpet floor.

“Wish you’d last this long in bed.” You ended.

Trevor’s head jerked up at the mention of you judging his struggle to hold. He gritted his teeth and aimed to spit, unsuccessfully watching the saliva reach barely half way as you just watched with a frown. A piece of clammy drool fell from his lips, dropping onto the floor, along with his tears.

“And what was that for, huh?”

“Fuck you.”

“Sensitive topic?”

“FUCK YOU!”

You grabbed his waist and forced him to his knees again. Trevor tried to resist but fell into your hands, murmuring complaints about the pain. He winced, trying to face you. But yet again, he failed. And he was beyond angered at his power being taken away.

“This is not FUCKIN’ funny, baby,” He whinged, “I hate you so much sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” You grinned.

“Mm, shut the fuck up…”

“C’mon. Admit it.”

“I said; shut the fuck up!”

“Fucking man up, Trevor. You’re on the floor with your cock fucked and your knees asleep – what are you gonna do? Encourage me to enjoy this more?” You caressed the back of his neck.

“Keep on going…” He whispered, almost quiet enough for you to miss.

“Sorry?”

“Keep going.”

A small smirk twitched and you crouched down, Trevor hesitantly putting his chin on your knee as he looked at you with an angry but lustful stare. He tried to lean closer, wanting a kiss, but he was refused and grunted when you dropped his head onto the floor again. He hit the floor and cursed your name menacingly.

“Fuck you, baby! I want you!”

“You wanted this, Trev?”

“Shut the fuck up and kill me already! Just end my life, make me cry!” He protested with desperation.

“You’re gonna be a man and last long for me?”

He nodded his head, “I wanna last long for you.”

“And you’re going to apologise? – “

“[y/n]! Please, just help me already!” Trevor complained and returned to his knees and hands, his dick burning red.

You laughed and shook your head with a small grin. Now that he was vulnerable and eager for your touch, it made it easier to gain a reaction. Your knee pressed against his backside and you forced him up, his back grinding against your thigh. Trevor closed his eyes as he felt your arms wrap around him, the skin-contact trailing from his stomach, closer to his arousal. He twitched with excitement, his hair mangled and skin tattered with oozing blood.

“So good for me, baby.” You praised and hugged his cock with your cold hands, massaging the tip and roughly mishandling the length to ensure your power is still prominent.

His whole body shook at your touch and he groaned when you demanded him to keep his hands away. It took some courage to follow your authorities, but it was worth it when you began stroking him, caressing his sore skin.

“Yes…” Trevor breathed, “Yes… Yes, that’s right.”

“You wanna be rubbed like the pervert that you are?”

“I’m a fuckin’… God! Yes!”

“Tell me how bad you want it, Trevor.”

He struggled to speak, “I – I… Oh, fuck… M’yeah. C’mon… Fuckin’ faster! Now! – “ Then he paused, dread clogging his throat when you clenched his cock.

“You want to continue being a little fucker?” You hissed in his ear.

“No… No, ma,” Trevor felt it get tighter as he whimpered, “I’m your fucker… I’m your pervert, God!”

“Say my name.”

“[y/n]…”

“Prefer me being in charge, baby?” You giggled, not used to seeing him so submissive.

“I love being treated like a rape toy, mommy!” And he had lost the plot, so emerged in his attraction.

You rubbed him harder and faster, your lips pressing down his neck as he was moaning frantically. From the way he was so stiff and hot, it was clear he had been holding a semi for a long, long time. It made you smirk. Trevor was so pathetic. He made it harder for himself – just so he could feel some pleasure in the end.

“I’m gonna cum – “

“What did I say?” Your lips moved against his skin.

“I – “ Trevor rolled his eyes back and dramatically growled, his hips jerking and cock twitching.

“Don’t cum yet.”

He panted, “Fuck you… Fuck you… Fuck you, I love you!”

“Easy. Concentrate on me, baby.”

“All for you, ma. All for you!”

“You’re so hard, sugar.” You held his body weight so he was forced to deal with you edging him. Even though he was erratic and fierce, you managed to keep him in check and he remained huddled in your arms, his cock being molested by your hands.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!” He sobbed.

“You’re such a slut, Trevor.”

“Ohhh… Fuuuck!” His words mingled for so long that it would crack. Then it went silent before his body spazzed, his dick delivering a huge load of cum that squirted onto the floor that was stained with damp tears, blood, glass.

He had silently cried through the orgasm. You looked at Trevor, his face scrunched and tongue hanging out like a dog. You had overstimulated him too much that climaxing had become a huge revolution, almost as though he transported through time.

“All good, baby?” You asked.

It took a few seconds before he nodded.

“You sore?”

He nodded again, chest heaving in and out.

“Good boy…” You kissed his cheek.

“You’re killing me,” Trevor airily slurred, “You almost killed me.”

“I know.”

“Fuck… Fuck! Fuck you… That was so hot…”

“You gonna clean up now?”

“[y/n]!” He whined tiredly, “You punished me enough, baby…”

You’d smirk, “Fine. You’ve proven how much of a baby you are. I wouldn’t want to cross the line and over exhaust you.”

“Fuck you.”

“And stop insulting me. Who’s house are you in?”

“…Yours.”

“So treat this place with respect, and me.” You warned.

Trevor gave you a playful glare before nodding, “Fuckin’ fine…”

“Now stand up. You reek.”

[backtothefanfiction]

One Last Date For Christmas | PART ONE: An Arrangement At The Christmas Party

Summary: Another year, The same Christmas party and holiday hook up... or is it?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Smut (oral M & F receiving, p in v, mild dirty talk with Christmas references), Mentions of Cancer/Death, Fake Dating, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, this is basically Hallmark/Netflix Christmas movie vibes

Word Count: 5.9K+

A/N: Okay, so I've been feeling crumby lately and really need a boost, so although we took a poll and it was decided this whole story would go up as one piece at the same time, I need the motivation and have had a crumby week mentally and need a boost. So here is part 1. If you do enjoy PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I am like Tinkerbell, if I don't get attention I will die haha. But seriously my mental health needs the kind words for energy so please take a moment to share some if you like this part and not just like it. Anyway... ENJOY!!!

Another year, another fancy corporate business party Peter was obliged to attend due to his job. It had become such a regular routine over these last 7 years J. Jonah Jameson didn’t even bother asking if he was available to come anymore, just automatically emailed over the details so he could attend. 

Peter couldn’t completely complain. He got free drinks and fancy food for the night. I mean in reality he got to act just like any other guest, despite the camera he had around his neck for the night. And instead of paying to be there, he was instead getting paid to be there. Sure it was only an extra couple hundred bucks, but at this time of year it really did make all the difference.

Being a freelance photographer only made him so much a year, especially when the rest of his time was spent moonlighting as the local superhero which didn’t pay a thing. Not that he couldn’t have made some money as a public figure. A couple grand here to endorse a few products. A donation of thanks or two from business owners or generous members of the community there. All of which had been options that he had turned down. That wasn’t who Spider-Man was and definitely not who he wanted Spider-Man to be. And so at almost 40 years old, this was Peter’s life.

No wife. No kids. Not even a pet, because he couldn’t commit to spending enough time at home in his tiny run down box of a studio apartment, to look after it. He sometimes brought girls home, he did have needs after all, but no matter how interested they had been in him, he’d never let himself get attached. After Gwen he would never get attached again.

The only one to ever even come close was you. He had met you 5 years ago now at this very event. Just like him, you always felt like a fish out of water at these parties, despite always being on the guest list. Your Father was one of the big business benefactors of the party and ever since the divorce you had become his regular plus one. 

Just like Peter you were a chronic singleton, always too busy traveling for work to be able to sustain an actual relationship, despite your Mother trying her best every time you were home to set you up with some poor soul. She just didn’t get it. You didn’t believe in marriage anymore as most of them ended in divorce, your parents marriage and even two of your Uncle’s marriages prime examples alone; and as for children? You had decided at the age of 13 you wouldn’t have kids and no matter how many times your Mother, Grandmother or Aunt Sarah told you, you would change your mind, you hadn’t. If anything the birth of your brother’s kids had only cemented things more. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your niece and nephew, you were just always glad you could pass them back off to your brother and his wife after a few hours of their shrieking play and demands for cookies and ice cream, while fighting over what to watch on the telly. No, you had never wanted kids and you never would. You had however always wanted to get a cat, but until you changed jobs or just simply didn’t have to travel for work anymore, that would just remain a lovely little dream for the future.

Peter always arrived to the party early. After all, he was getting paid by the hour, so the longer he was there taking photos, the more money he could claim from the Daily Bugle finance department on Monday. He aimlessly wandered around taking photos of the venue and the table settings and the odd entering guest as people arrived. He helped himself to horderves off of shiny platters and the odd glass of champagne as he worked, seamlessly floating through the crowd, formally stopping people every now and again for more posed group shots, other times just taking candid photos of people mingling. He took the occasional booming order from J. Jonah Jameson, “Hey Parker! Make sure you get a shot of me with the Mayor. Parker! Come here and take a photo of me and Mrs Perez! Parker! Take a picture of me and my wife!”

“Yes, sir.” Peter would respond with a smile. Usually you were here by now to laugh at the way he followed the head of the Daily Bugle around like his lap dog, but as of yet you still hadn’t arrived. Then a horrible thought crossed Peter’s mind, ‘what if you weren’t coming this year.’ He had seen your Father walking about, had even taken a couple of photos of him with various business partners and city officials, but as of yet there had been no sign of you.

Peter checked his watch again hoping you were just running late, but the closer it got to 8.30pm and the start of the meal portion of the night, he started to give up hope. He knew you were busy, always flying between Tokyo, Milan, London and Paris for work; but you were always usually back home for the holidays. He was just about to check his watch again when you came through the door like a whirlwind in red.

He watched you like a Spider sizing up his prey as you made a beeline for your Father. You gave him a rushed greeting and an apologetic kiss to the cheek, before you followed him and the rest of his group to their table, placed closer to the small makeshift stage that had been erected at one end of the long window lined room. He kept his focus on you as you took your seat, your father pushing your chair in for you as you turned to greet one of the other women at the table a couple seats away from you. That was, until J. Jonah Jameson’s booming voice called him away again.

“Parker! You’re over here with us!” He barked as he ushered Peter over to a table on the other side of the room. He was just able to lock eyes with you and give you a friendly smile before he took his seat. “I’ve sat you on this side so you can get the wife’s good side.” Jameson continued to say.

There was a couple of speeches and awards before the food was served. Peter was pleased to find that he was in fact in a good vantage point in which he could take pictures of the stage this year without having to move. He also had a clear sightline to you too, his lens unconsciously moving in your direction every few shots then back again.

Peter had chosen the steak and hasselback potatoes for his dinner with a rich chocolate pudding for dessert. When he finished his meal, he dismissed himself from the table, as he traditionally did, to go around the tables and take a few more candid shots of people before taking a break at the bar. 

“I’ll take an old fashioned, please.” Your familiar voice suddenly came from beside him. “I’m sorry I was late.” you said as you leaned into him as if conspiratorially. “My flight got delayed.”

“Where were you coming from this time?” Peter asked as he took a sip from his own drink.

“Boston.” You said with a sigh. It definitely hadn’t been the answer he was expecting and his quizzical look at you said as much. “I was visiting my Mother. Her and her new partner Brad moved there a few months back to be closer to his grandchildren.” You explained.

“I’m guessing that means you got away with not being set up on a blind date this visit.” Peter fished, knowing your Mother’s habits and routines well after these last 5 years of annual hookups.

“You’d think so.” You said as you took a sip of your stiff drink, just to emphasize the drama of it all. “Turns out Maggie’s teacher is single and available.” you say with mock enthusiasm.

“Maggie?” Peter questions.

“One of Brad’s grandchildren.” you fill in with another sigh and eyebrow raise. “I wish she’d just give it a rest, you know?” You pause as you take another sip of your drink before you tell him, “I’m thinking of coming up with a fake boyfriend just to get her off my back. But then I know she’ll be all like ‘when do I get to meet him?’” you say doing an exaggerated impersonation of your Mother’s voice.

“Yeah, I think about doing the same thing with Aunt May sometimes, but I’d hate lying to her.” Peter confided.

“How is your Aunt?” you ask. The one blessing of only seeing each other once a year meant there were always things for you both to talk about and catch up on.

You watch as his face falls, his eyes turning sad as he looks into his drink. “Umm, they’re not good actually. We found out this year she has stage 4 breast cancer. The doctor said this is probably gonna be her last Christmas.” He struggles to look at you.

“Peter, I’m so sorry.” you say, mustering up as much empathy as you can as your hand instinctively comes to rub at his back. “Is there nothing they can do?”

“They said they could try a few different treatments but it wasn’t guaranteed to work and May ultimately decided that… Well she said that she’s lived to a good age and if this is how she is meant to go, this is how she is meant to go.” He paused, blinking hard as he continued to stare at the liquid in his glass. “She said I was a grown man and didn’t need her anymore.” He let out a small unsatisfied chuckle that wreaked of denial, before he finally looked at you again. “I just… I just feel guilty, you know?”

“What for?” You asked him.

“It’s just. I know she was always holding onto this hope that I’d meet someone. That I’d end up finding someone and settling down. Live a life like her and Ben did.”

“But that’s not what you want from your life?” you question him now unsure, as you finally sit yourself on the bar stool next to him. “I mean, if you wanted that, isn’t that what you would have done? Gone out, met a girl. Settled down. You can’t be someone you’re not just to please others.”

“But it was what I wanted.” he suddenly confides. “And that’s why I feel guilty because she knows that. When I first introduced her to Gwen, I said, ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry Aunt May.’” he says with gusto, like he’s saying it exactly how he had said it to her, before his body deflates again.

“But things change. People change. We’re allowed to change Peter.”

“I know, but��� she just, I know she never gave up hope.”

“You know what they say about hope?” You say.

“It breeds eternal misery,” he bristles.

“No.” You chastise. “It’s like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

Peter’s brow furrows as his head turns back to you. “Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”

“Princess Leia.” you smile.

“God I love you.” he says casually with a smile.

“I know.” you continue to beam back before you raise your glass towards him. “For Aunt May?”

“For Aunt May.” he agrees before clinking your glass with his own.

You both creep away a little before midnight, catching a cab back to your apartment. You always went back to your apartment. Peter said it was because he wanted you to be comfortable and said it was more homelier than his place, but the truth was, Peter was ashamed to take you back to his own apartment. It looked like a dingy run down squat or some really dodgy student housing in comparison to your place. 

He didn’t want to kid himself, he knew he was definitely punching above his weight a little when it came to you, not because he necessarily thought he was ugly, but more simply because you had more money than him. You’d never made him feel inferior for it. In fact you’d always wanted to help him by offering to put him in contact with some galleries so he could get more of his work out there. Maybe make some extra cash by selling some of his photos as art for the rich and wealthy, not just to a local paper, but Peter had never had the guts to take you up on the offer. It would make him feel indebted to you and throw the balance of your relationship off even more than it somewhat already was.

“Did you choose red because it’s my favourite color or just for the festivities?” He nibbled on your ear as his fingers ran across the velvet skirt of the dress, dragging it up to your thigh as he pressed himself against your back.

You hadn’t bothered turning on any other lights than the Christmas tree, before you stopped to take a moment to look out your window at the city. Christmas in New York was your favorite time of year. Every year to mark the occasion, you would go down to Rockefeller Plaza, grab a hot chocolate and watch as they turned on the lights. As kids you would go ice skating there. Less so now you were adults, your brother and his own kids had their own tradition of skating in Central Park on Christmas Eve, but some years you would still partake.

“I chose it for the season.” You sighed, your body relaxing back into him, head resting on his shoulder as he kissed his way down your neck.

“My festive little elf.” He teased as his fingers continued to work up the hem of your dress until they could reach your panties, which you had in fact bought new and chosen with Peter in mind.

“I even brought presents.” You plaid along teasingly.

Your breathing hitched slightly as the pads of his fingers dragged over your lace covered clit.

“Really? For me?” You could feel him smiling into the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“Mhmm.” You hum. “Maybe, you should unwrap me.” You tease back.

“Mmm.” He hums back deeply in delight as he turns you around to face him. The hand that was just ghosting at your centre, now wraps firmly around the back of your neck, as he smashes your rouge stained lips into his. 

His other hand begins pawing at the velvety fabric of your dress again before he’s pulling his face away from you, his grin growing too big and you can’t help but give a satisfying smile back as you notice how your lipstick has transferred from your lips to his, marking him as yours for the evening. Your hand reaches for his and you begin taking steps backwards, pulling him in the direction of your bedroom and awaiting bed.

Your room is a slight mess from your hasty packing before you left for Boston and your equally hasty unpacking upon your return. You’d just had enough time to get home and get changed, rushing your make up and hair, before you left to go to the party. Your suitcase lay open on the floor, some of the contents lay spilling out from where you had hunted around for your makeup bag. The little pink bag from Victoria Secret sat upside down on the floor beside it. Peter spies it the moment he enters the room.

He feigns shock, “Did you buy this for me?” He teases as he picks up the bag.

“Don’t get too excited Parker, they were having a sale.”

“I don’t care.” He says with a boyish grin, despite his 39 years of age. “Come here and let me see.”

You smile at him as you begin to step closer to him before calling out into the room, “Alexa, turn on mood lighting.”

His eyebrows raise as a lamp in the corner of the room turns on, illuminating your bedroom in a magenta hue. “Mood lighting huh?”

“Do you wanna be able to see your Christmas gift or not?” You sass back with a hand on your hip.

“I mean, I’ve always thought of you as my Christmas present, regardless of what you wear.” He says as his fingers begin to grab for you again and pull you into him.

“Next year I won’t bother then.”

“Oh no, you’ve made it a thing now. I’m gonna expect this, every- single- year- from now on.” He says between kisses across your cheek and down your neck and upper chest. You begin to giggle and shriek in delight as his lips gently nibble at your skin. “Mmm.  Come on then. Let’s see what you got for me.” He says ripping himself away from you so you have the space to reach behind you for the zipper to your dress. 

The dress begins to relax its hold on your body, slowly exposing the black strapless lace bra to Peter before you slide the dress down the rest of your body to show off the matching lacey bikini briefs. You carefully step out of the puddle that now is the red velvet dress on your floor, your ankles only wobbling slightly as you still stand in your heels for him to take in the full sight.

He pauses for a moment silently taking you in before he gives a small nod. “Yes. Yes, this will do. Excuse me a moment while I go and write my thank you letter to San-“

“Peter.” You whine.

“Oh come on, don’t be bratty with me now.” He says jokingly as he steps closer and wraps you in his arms again.

“I thought you liked it when I was bratty.” You joke back as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Nope. You become completely intolerable and insufferable and…” You roll your eyes as he continues to list words, but nonetheless, begin to snake your arms from around his neck, trailing them down his chest as you begin to get down on your knees before him.

You begin to work open the button of his jeans, freeing his semi hard cock from its confines. He only stops his fake monologue about you acting like a brat when you take his length into your mouth and his hand involuntarily reaches out for the side of your head as he sighs. 

The only sounds that fill the room now are his small gasps and moans and your saliva slick lips around his cock. One of your hands braces itself on his thigh, whilst the other works the rest of his shaft your mouth won’t reach.

You pull off him with a sloppy pop of your lips and Peter groans before you begin to circle the tip of his cock with your tongue and he jumps away from you with sensitivity, suddenly worried he’d blow his load too soon if you continue like that. It makes you giggle.

His fingers reach around the flesh of your bicep and he pulls you up off the floor before pulling you into him, his head nuzzling into your neck, lips and teeth nibbling and teasing at your skin and driving you crazy. He’d worked out that you liked that on the second Christmas you had slept together. He loved the way it made you sigh but also giggle and shriek when the sensation grew too much.

“Ahhh Peter.” you cried out with a high pitched moan. 

He reluctantly broke himself away from you and the intoxicating smell of your favorite perfume so you could latch your mouth onto his, a satisfied smile struggling to be contained on your lips. He can’t help but smile back.

“Peter!” you shriek and giggle as he reaches around to pick you up and drop you back onto the covers of your bed.

Your hands get lost in his hair as he begins kissing his way down your chest. Your stomach involuntarily twitches as his lips move across it and the way his hands reach for your hips to forcefully hold you in place sends you reeling, a wave of arousal soaking your panties. His lips skip over your underwear, instead kissing at the inside of your thigh as his hands begin to relax on your hips, his fingers curling under the waistband of your underwear, ready to pull them down.

As he removes you of your underwear, he also takes the opportunity to rid himself of the flattering black long sleeved top he’d been wearing all evening. The removal of his shirt reveals a silver necklace that had been hiding beneath the shirt and the way the chain hangs off his neck has you biting your lip. It is so rare to see a man wear jewelry so you never realized the effect the sight had on you before, but there's something about the connotations and hidden meaning to it, his choice and confidence to wear it, makes you want to rub your thighs together in want. 

His fingers are suddenly teasing at your entrance though and its almost enough to take the edge off, or it would be if his finger hadn’t stopped at the first knuckle of his middle finger. You realize he’s only done it so he can spread the arousal that was already leaking out of your cunt around between your folds and across your clit so he can then go in and lick it all off. Your head falls back into the pillows of your bed as you sigh out his name in relief.

You can feel the focus he has radiating off of him without even looking as he begins to expertly lick up from your entrance, swirl his tongue around your clit and then back down again as he draws moans, ever increasing in volume, from your lips. You found out very early on in your yearly dalliances that he was an expert with that tongue, making you cum not once, not twice, but three times just from his tongue alone, when you told him no one had ever actually gotten you off that way before.

You could feel your first climax of the night building low within you, your muscles growing tight, clit growing extra sensitive as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, encouraging him and guiding him and not allowing him to pull away until you finished. The pressure of his tongue grew firmer and you ground your clit down against it until that tight thread within you snapped, your hips stuttering as pleasure rippled through you. He held tightly onto you, lapping up everything you gave him and helping you ride it out until you were actively pushing him away from you. He gave your bare thighs a small satisfactory slap as he gave you his smug tight lipped  smile that seemed to say ‘another happy customer’ and you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle before turning your head and trying to hide the ear to ear smile that was on your face.

You were able to compose yourself as he shifted from the bed to shuck himself fully off the rest of his clothes, his jeans joining your red dress in a puddle on the floor, before he carefully lifted the necklace off over his head and placed it on your bedside table. You shifted yourself over on the bed as he came down to rest beside you, his hand reaching out to pull your face to him as he gave you a kiss before he encouraged you to climb up on top of him.  Your lips didn’t part from his as you straddled his waist, your cunt involuntarily rubbing itself along his hard length as your tongues intermingled with one another.

His fingers reached round to grab a hold of your ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh as he encouraged you to grind down harder. You moaned and gasped against his lips at the drag of your clit across his skin. Your open mouth before him allowed him to reach out for your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth making you moan louder, before he began to trail kisses down your chin and neck. You closed your eyes, getting lost in the feeling and the sounds of your own voice. It sent a new flood of arousal between your legs and you could feel Peter grinning against your skin as you worked your slick over his length.

You paused only long enough to reach over to your chest of drawers, pulling a box of condoms out of the second drawer. The position allowed Peter to attach his mouth over your breasts, his teeth biting at them over the lace bra. You reached behind you to unclasp it and take it off as you sat upright, Peter’s hands resting patiently on the tops of your thighs as he waited for you to then open the condom. You held out the torn open packet for him to take the condom and start rolling it down onto his length as you reached back over the side of the bed to drop the wrapper in the bin. 

You shifted your legs back slightly as you recentred yourself, one hand balancing on the bed, the other on his bare chest as he lined himself up with your entrance. He glided the tip of his cock against your folds, covering the tip of his cock with your slick before he began to encourage you back onto it. The slow fill of his cock inside you had you letting out a long sigh of satisfaction, your eyes falling closed, head tilting back as you savored the feeling.

It had been a slow year. Despite a brief hook up with a guy over the summer after a night out with friends and a quick tinder hookup in your hotel in Rome (where the guy spoke barely a lick of English), your only companion had been your old reliable rabbit toy. You’d be lying if you hadn’t been counting down the days to tonight the whole time you had been visiting your Mother. When your flight had been delayed, it was the thought of missing out on your one good and guaranteed fuck of the year that had stressed you out. Now it all seemed worth it.

Peter started slowly, his hips pushing up into you at an agonizing pace as he guided you down and your hips back with every thrust, the contours of his cock dragging agonizingly slowly across every sensitive spot inside you, working you up gradually to another earth shattering climax. Your body bowed over him as you let out small gasps of praise into his forehead, your fingers gripping tightly into the sheets either side of his head. You felt one of his hands run soothingly up your back and it sent shivers down your spine that only added to the sensation building in between your legs.

“Peter.” you sighed against him, as you pressed your forehead into his, your eyes closed in concentration as you chased that feeling inside you.

“What is it? What do you need?” his voice gently calls to you as he moves the hand that was caressing your back round behind your neck, pulling your lips down to his for a kiss.

“More. I need more.” you say equally as gently back into his lips. 

You feel his head give a small nod in acknowledgment before he seals the deal with a kiss, as his thrusts begin to grow quicker and firmer in pace. It makes him hit something deep inside you that has you crying out. Your eyes fly open, desperate to lock onto his. He looks up at you with such beauty and gratitude. It makes you want to kiss him again and you do, your tongue licking deeply and slowly into his mouth in rhythm with his thrusts.

Your thighs shudder slightly as the sensation between your legs changes and you know your cumming again but the feeling of his cock moving between your legs doesn’t stop. It works you through the high and he still doesn’t stop. Instead his thrusts grow fast as he searches for his own release. You brace yourself, holding yourself over him as he just takes what he wants. If he holds out long enough you think you can get out one more orgasm of your own.

You balance yourself on one arm as your other hand reaches between your legs, swirling rapidly at your clit as you push yourself against his length, feeling every sensation of his rapid thrust. Peter grunts in response at the sensation of your fluttering cunt and it forces him to find one final push, his hips sputtering only slightly before he increases his angle and speed one last time, then he’s embracing you.

His arms wrap tightly around you as your final climax soaks his cock. Your head is buried into his neck as you try to shut out the overstimulation for just a few more strokes of his cock before he stills, his length pulsating as he finishes, only adding to the sensitivity between your legs making you squirm. He’s quick to push you off him as you do, his own sensitivity unable to take the feeling.

You both pause breathing deeply as you come down before he gives you a small tap and you flop onto your side on the bed. He quickly gets up, kicking his legs out to disperse the blood around them as his cock softens. You close your eyes to revel in the last dregs of your orgasm as he goes to your adjoining ensuite to sort himself out.

He takes a little longer than usual and you begin to frown, but then you hear the flush of the toilet and the door opening and you settle. You quickly get up, flashing him a smile as you hobble to your bathroom with legs like a newborn calf. Usual he’d let out a proud little chuffing laugh but this year he doesn’t.

When you return to see him sat on the side of the bed in his underwear, his fingers reaching to fix the necklace he had taken off back over his head and around his neck, you realize he looks distracted. “What is it? What’s wrong?” you ask him as you climb over the bed to your rightful side and slip between the covers.

His head turns, eyebrows raising as if he’s only just noticed you’re back in the room. “Huh?” he says. “Oh, nothing.”

“Really?” you say as he shuffles himself round to face you, put he doesn’t get under the covers. Peter doesn’t sleep over. He stays for a debrief and a chat for maybe another hour, some years two, but always leaves to return to his own apartment and bed.

“It’s just,” he says as he places an arm under his head as he gets himself comfortable, “I was just thinking about what you said earlier.”

“What did I say earlier?” you reply as you shift into a similar position to his, facing him. You look like two kids at a slumber party who have moved so close to each other so you can whisper really quietly and not disturb the others who are sleeping.

“About pretending to have a boyfriend to get your Mom off your case.”

You frown at him, “Yeah, but it’d never work because she’d want to meet him.”

“Okay, yeah.” he says, but his tone isn’t one of defeat, it instead says ‘wait, hear me out’. “But what if you had someone to take home and pretend to be said boyfriend?”

You’re still confused. “What are you trying to get at here Parker?” You suddenly sit up, placing distance between the two of you as a realization hits you. “Wait, this isn’t you asking me out or trying to be my boyfriend is it? You know I don’t really do the whole dating thing. We have our arrangement and that's-”

“No. NO. Would you just hear me out.” he speaks over you and cuts you off as he too sits up defensively. “Look, I just thought we could come to some sort of arrangement.” You’re silent as he pauses and takes a deep breath and you wait for him to continue. “Okay.” he says, his hands folding in his lap, “This is probably gonna be my Aunt May’s last Christmas.” he says and the implication of his words make you bristle. He struggles to look at you, but your eyes remain fixed on him so he know that you are listening and paying attention, even if his words are starting to make you uncomfortable. “I don’t want her to die thinking I’m gonna spend the rest of my life alone, you know? I mean,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts before he continues, “I don’t want her to die without hope.”

“Okay.” you acknowledge quietly as you follow his words.

“So I was thinking, what if- just for this christmas,” he emphasizes, “what if we pretend to you know, actually date. Come the New Year we go our separate ways as normal, no strings attached, but you know, just to get our families off our backs so we can live our chosenly single lives.” He screws up his face a little at the word chosenly, which he’s all but sure he’s made up but figures he’s gotten his point across.

“So, we pretend to date for the holidays to get our parents off our backs?” you frown, checking you’ve got his proposal right.

“Yeah. You’d come for Christmas Eve dinner with my Aunt and I’ll…” his voice trails off as he wracks his brain for an equal solution for you.

“You’ll come to Boston with me for my Mother’s New Years party.” You fill in for him.

He hesitates a second realizing he’d actually need to travel and stay with you and your family to make things even on your side of things, but the thought of letting May die thinking he’s going to be lonely forever, has his stomach turning more so he hastily agrees. “Fine, but-” he interjects, knowing a single day with his Aunt for a supposedly 2-3 day trip with your family isn’t a fair exchange, “if my Aunt is still with us in February, you have to stop by on Valentines day.”

“I thought you just said we go our separate ways come January.” You respond.

“Yes, but one meal with my Aunt in comparison to a multi day trip to Boston is hardly an equal-”

“Fine. Fine.” You concede with your hands raised.

He relaxes slightly as you come to an agreement. “You wanna shake hands on it or something?” he offers. You roll your eyes, your fingers reaching for the pillow you’d pulled into your lap to nervously fiddle with instead, picking it up and throwing it at him. “Hey.” he jokingly exclaims as he holds his hands up to catch the pillow before it hits him in the face. “Is that any way to treat your new boyfriend?” he deadpans.

“Uuuhhgg.” you scoff back with another eye roll but you can’t help the tiny smirk that creeps into the corner of your mouth.

I'm going to upload the other parts of this mini series on the dates that match up with the story (Christmas Eve, New Years Eve), if you want to be added to the list below, please put it in writing. All current tags have been taken from likes, reblogs or comments from other posts about this series, if you wish to be removed, just let me know. (I had a few more names who liked posts but it wouldn't let me tag you, apologies, I'm not sure how to fix that but I hope this finds you anyway.) Once again if you did like this, please don't just like it, respond with some words of your own to give me a boost.

@sincericida @tarzinnia @raindropsandteaandtears @xenasolos @dil3mma @ms-wild-card-56 @shivani1902

[not-goldy]

God I can't really stand JK anymore.

Everything regarding him went a downhill since 2023. The way he behaved changed a lot.. LIKE A LOT now he's way cockier as if no one in the whole world can top him and he doesn't need to listen to anyone giving even good advises, how he used to present himself and looked changed drastically now he looks like a junkie, how he used to perform changed so much now he doesn't half half the energy or stage presence and doesn't give af about making mistake a ton times while before he used to perform with extreme perfection. He's listening to their PR teams too much like where did I go live when I miss fans went ? Now he's listening to their cheap promo tricks. His work ethics is completely opposite from what BTS was.. he's working with payola king of the whole industry and buying success. Releasing a 100 version and a western collab with some B grade pop artist. The songs he releasing are basically shit now when he used to release magic shop, film out, your eyes tell and still with you kind of gems.

The ONLY thing connecting me to him now is Jimin. There's no way to avoid JK when you are a Jimin stan. But i'm WAITING for the day Jimin finally open his eyes and get out of this toxic relationship so I don't want to put up with him anymore.

You see, your problem is that Jungkook is not Jimin. That's your problem. Half way through your comment, I smiled to myself and I thought well this Anon would certainly love Jimin then if these are the qualities they looking for in an idol. only to get to the end of the Ask to find out you actually do like Jimin💀

That complicates things for me.

Where should I even begin

There's nothing wrong with having a preference. There's nothing wrong with having a bias.

I'm not gonna come for your throat on this.

You prefer Jimin's work ethics and prefer how seriously he takes his public relations, how he puts on effort and that's alright.

BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO HATE JUNGKOOK just because he's not YOUR PREFERENCE.

If you keep that up you and I gon have a problem.

Do I think Jungkook can take a page or two out of the Jimin idol manual? Sure.

As much as I looove seeing Jungkook live his life on his own terms not giving a fuck what anyone cares- some times, in certain areas I do think he could use that self regulation.

Yet on the other hand, I don't find Jimin's over regulation appealing either. I've ever said his kumbaya persona, caring too much what others think, trying to be perfect, self regulated, evolved, controlling his words, his attention, being overly polite, smiling when he should be cussing people out all in the name of his consciousness of the fact he is an idol really REALLY FRUSTRATES ME.

Jimin struggles with this. The never mind tattoos, the song lyrics yearning for freedom, set me free- where do you think that comes from?

I don't know how we can call ourselves stans and not sense some of these things: the members constantly telling him not to care what people would think, to do whatever he wants,- even Jungkook openly reminding him HE IS AN ADULT and shouldn't care about certain things.

Jungkook is good for Jimin and Jimin is good for Jungkook.

Jimin is the leash and restrain Jungkook needs and Jungkook is the freedom Jimin craves.

Please don't come for jikook I'll paint you and it ain't going to be pretty.

Also remember, this is a human being you are talking about. He is not an alien. He is human just like you. That vitriol and animosity towards him is so not necessary.

I can't help you unhate him.

But please, be a good human.

He is a relatively young man navigating overwhelming situations. I personally think going solo has taught him so much and there is much more he'd learn along the way.

And please, it's slander to say he half ass his performance- have you seen his tiktok? THE THIBGS HE CAN DO WITH HIS WAIST- MY GOD!

Oh and did you see Tae's smoke challenge? I may or may not be addicted to the part he wines his waist- lolay lolay lolay

Sorry I had to go and watch that clip again.

Liste, the point I'm making here is, It's his journey and his choice to decide the type of idol he wants to be. You may like it or you may not. That's a you problem. However he's responsible for his own reputation and his own success in the industry and I think he is still learning to hone his values and filter his choices through those values.

Give that man a break .

AND FREE JUNGKOOK.

Peace out

[octoberautumnbox]

You Got This

woo!ah! Wooyeon (Park Jinkyung) & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff, light swearing

Word count: idfk its short

a/n: wrote in 15 minutes before the work day starts. I miss writing a lot, and this felt good to get out. no editing no proofreading no planning even. idc if you enjoy this one tbh, more than anything this was for me :)

"You really should take a break."

She tosses you a water bottle, which you fumble and barely catch.

"Thanks. Don't throw next time," you jeer irritatedly as you drape her blanket over your shoulder. Then, you unscrew the cap and take a mouthful of energy drink. Swallowing was no easy task for how much fluid you took, but you manage.

"You're not the fucking boss of me, asshole. By the way, the photoshoot is going great, lots of great shots. Thank you." She places a hand gently on your shoulder. "I wish you wouldn't work so hard, though. I'm doing fine."

"And the rest of your group? No comeback or solos for the past twelve months?" You take a seat on the floor and then place the water bottle of energy drink on a spot next to you. "At this rate, your next comeback will sell for half of your last. I can't have that. I need this job."

Wooyeon takes a seat next to you on the floor. You notice how she shivers as she does, and you offer her back her blanket to sit on, which she takes gratefully. "You make it seem like this is all fun and games to me, like I don't care what happens to my members. Why do you have to be that mean?"

"I'm just... concerned, that's all. You know me. I worry about you. All of you." Looking her in the eye, you notice her deep concern for you as well. "Let's just do our jobs, alright? We'll get through this. You'll be famous soon."

"Don't I get a say in that? What if I don't want to be famous anymore? What if I'm content with doing these sorts of gigs, and having my worrywart of a manager fumble bottles of mysterious fluid I throw at him?" She chuckles and smiles at the thought, and her warmth spreads to you. She places her head on your shoulder, and sighs deeply with her eyes closed.

"We'll be fine. After all, we have you. I know you won't let us down, Oppa."

The sound of the bell rings across the entire set, and people bustle about once more. You nudge against her lightly, and the both of you slowly get up. "Just do your best, Wooyeon. Let me handle everything else. I got you."

"Call me by my name." She pleads seriously, with eyes that shone like nothing you've seen before. You admire the woman before you, her strength and courage bringing her farther than you'd have ever thought.

"Jinkyung... Thanks." Turning around and walking away from you, she raises her hand and yells back, "You're welcome! Now come on, we're late."

a/n: just a little bit of fluff(?) as a break from not only writing but,,,,, everything going on. I hope everyone finds the sort of support they need today and everyday! fighting!

[lollieskk]

Angry love confession

"I don't get you Kacchan!" Izuku screams, frustration bubblig up inside of him. "God! I mean, y-you do these things. You scream at people when they talk badly about me, you punched Shindo when he tried to kiss me!"

Izuku turns around, facing Kacchan. He was standing by the doorway into Izuku's apartment still. The both of them were still a bit drunk probably but the greenette was sobering up very quickly. Kacchan looked shocked, mouth a bit agape.

"A-and then you talk to me like you hate me still! You ignore me for days on end. And then you hate people when you do the same to me!" The door was still wide open behind Kacchan, his neighbors could probably hear every single word.

"Say something!" Izuku finally screamed when his childhood friend didn't answer.

His and Kacchan's relationship has always been a disaster, ever since they were 3 their life's have been entangled. For better or for worse they have always been in each other's life's. Katsuki is the only person in Izuku's life who has ever pulled his strings like this- who has ever made him this mad- even so, he's the only one who has made him feel an overwhelming amount of happiness and bliss. No one could make Izuku sadder than Kacchan, but no one could lift Izuku as high.

"Look Deku, I just don' like when people talks shit 'bout ya," He sighed, stepping into the apartment more, closing the door behind him.

"No, don't do that! Don't undermine it, people don't just punch others for no reason!" He was breathing hard now, heaving even.

"He was forcing himself onto you, I just-"

"No he didn't!" Izuku interrupted. "I actually initiated the kiss Kacchan!"

"Fine, Deku! 'M sorry then, fuck!" The blond yelled, undoubtedly frustrated. "Can we just go to sleep? 'M tired 'n' to drunk for this shit". Kacchan took off his jacket and shoes, slumping in on himself and walking towards Izuku's bathroom.

The blond lived further away, train had stopped for the night, and was to drunk to drive, so Izuku -the dumbass he is- offered his sofa for the night.

"No! I wanna talk about this now!" The blond let out a loud groan, back toward Izuku now.

"Deku, seriously."

"I've been trying to be understanding, I have tried to see things your way, I have, really. But fuck I'm tired Kacchan, I-I can't do this anymore," Izuku's throat was closing up, like a big tennis ball stuck in his throat he can't swallow.

Kacchan turned abound, he looked shocked, afraid maybe but honestly Izuku was too tired to even try and confirm or deny.

"I'm done Kacchan, please," Izuku sighed, shoulders slumping.

Izuku tried walking by Kacchan and into his room, his plan was to probably just sleep for 12 hours, wake up and hope for Kacchan to leave on his own. And then after that, keep laying in bed until he felt like his bladders about to burst.

"Deku-" Katsuki grabbed onto his arm, more gently than expected. Izuku could easily rip his arm away but the stupid, delusional part of him didn't want to. If this was going to be the last time Kacchan's ever going to talk to him then Izuku would drag it out as long as he could.

"Look I'm sorry, I'm fucking sorry. I'll stop, just don't- don't-"

"Don't what Kacchan? Stop talking to someone who gets set of the second someone talks to me?" He didn't even have the energy anymore to yell at his friend ex friend.

"I'll stop, okay? Just don't leave."

"Why?" Kacchan's mouth opened and closed the second after. "Why Kacchan, why are we even friends? You don't even like me!"

"Yes we are!"

"Well you sure as fuck don't act like it Kacchan!" Seems like his energy was building up again.

"I'm not good at expressing my fuckin' feelings Deku! You know that!"

"Yes Kacchan, I know. But I can't be friends with someone who punches someone and then can't tell me why!"

Silence spread through the apartment, defending.

"Why Kacchan!" Izuku was screaming at the top of his lungs. He hadn't ever screamed like this before in this life he thinks. "Why!"

"Wh-"

"Beacuse I'm in love with you!"